A Sermon for Maundy Thursday
March 20, 2008
by Pastor Laura Gentry
John 13:1-13, 33-35
Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. The devil had already put it into the heart of Judas son of Simon Iscariot to betray him. And during supper Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?” Jesus answered, “You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand.” Peter said to him, “You will never wash my feet.” Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.” Simon Peter said to him, “Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!” Jesus said to him, “One who has bathed does not need to wash, except for the feet, but is entirely clean. And you are clean, though not all of you.” For he knew who was to betray him; for this reason he said, “Not all of you are clean.” After he had washed their feet, had put on his robe, and had returned to the table, he said to them, “Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord—and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you. Very truly, I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them. If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them.
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.”
Shoes! Don’t you just love shoes? I do. I confess I have a particular weakness for shoes. I especially love the bold and bright, the interesting, whimsical as well as the comfortable. In fact, I’ve brought a few of these tonight—just my favorite ones, the ones that really demanded to make an appearance.
First, my newest: fuchsia Crocs. They just arrived yesterday and I’ve already got them mostly broken in. I’ve resisted getting Crocs because, frankly they’ve been a bit too popular and on most people they look rather silly. But after reading a review that says even podiatrists are now recommending them because of their extreme comfort, I broke down and got a pair. Of course, the fact that they were available in fuchsia was also another plus.
I’ve also got these fuchsia shoes, which I painted myself nearly 15 years ago. I had a dress this color and couldn’t find any other shoes to match so I painted these. As you can imagine, they went splendidly with my dress!
There are also my orange Keen shoes, which helped me walk comfortably all over Bulgaria and slip off easily while in the car or airplane. I’ve got these patent leather red Danskos, also known for their great comfort. Professionals who are on their feet a lot, like nurses and chefs tend to wear them. They helped me stand in museums all over Scandinavia without any back pain.
Now even though comfort is important to me, so is style. That’s why I have these patterned boots (and I’ve got a matching suit and handbag for them). I’m also a sucker for polka dots and so I’ve got the red polka dotted gardening clogs and the retro polka dotted sandals. And while these are perhaps my most uncomfortable shoes, they also get the most compliments and look fabulous with my polka dotted apparel.
As I look at this portion of my shoe collection, I am reminded of all the places my shoes have taken me. I think of that old saying about walking a mile in someone else’s shoes. And as we have come to Maundy Thursday, we take upon ourselves the task of walking the way of the cross in Jesus’ shoes. We hear again the passion narrative with all the painful steps and we remember how much his journey means to each one of us.
And tonight, we hear how this journey to the cross continues from where we left off on Sunday. We heard of his triumphal entry into Jerusalem. The cheering crowds, waving palms and shouting “Hosanna” was certainly an exciting part of Jesus’ walk. But now, he dines with his disciples for what he knows will be the last time before his death. It is likely the Passover meal they are celebrating. They would have retold the great story of how God delivered their ancestors from slavery in Egypt.
But suddenly, Jesus does something unexpected: he strips off his robe and kneels down to wash each one’s feet. Feet? Why does it have to be feet? This is such an important night—their last supper—and he has to drag feet into it.
Feet are perhaps the most unglamorous thing about us. They are kind of funny looking, they can give us pain, they are hard to reach because they are way down at the bottom of our bodies and worse of all, they stink! Well, at least after a day of use, they tend to stink. One year for Christmas, someone gave me a bottle of “Albert Einstein’s ‘No More Smelly Shoes!’” spray. A hint? Perhaps. There are many such products because, well, foot smell is a reality. Even my new Crocs advertise that they are built with an antibacterial material as well as ventilation air holes to keep your feet smelling nice all day.
Now in the time of Jesus, feet were even more problematic. They didn’t have any great products like this Einstein spray or stinkless rubber shoes and people wore open-toed sandals and walked through dusty deserts and messy downtowns where people drove donkeys instead of SUVs, so you can imagine the mess that their feet would have been through in any given day. Yet, here is Jesus grabbing up those day-old feet and lovingly washing them.
It’s a bit difficult for us to understand how outrageous this was for his disciples to witness. On top of the hygiene issue, feet were symbolically unclean according to their religious traditions. Yes, feet needed to be washed, but religious people didn’t wash their own. They had slaves do it for them, and not just any slave, but the lowest slave in the household. It was an embarrassing chore that nobody but nobody would have volunteered to do. So there is, no doubt, shock when Jesus decides to do this task himself.
Why would he do such a thing? Jesus explains a few verses later when he tells them: 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. Not only is his foot-washing stunt an example of humility and love for us, but it foreshadows his final act of love: his self-sacrificial death on the cross. Jesus does not beat around the bush. He commands his disciples to love in the same way that he has loved. And why wouldn’t he? His whole life centered around this message. The love of Christians for all people should be the distinguishing mark by which the world recognizes them as followers of Jesus.
So if Jesus’ commandment is so clear: that we are to love one another, why aren’t we Christians more focused on that task? Why is it that this priority sometimes take a back seat to less important issues—even within the church? How is the world going to know that we are Christians if we do not love? This annual service of Maundy Thursday is always an important reminder that love—showing itself in humble service—is our highest calling.
How that service plays out in our daily lives is up to us, but the commandment is clear: serve. And so we ritualize this annually at our Maundy Thursday worship service. Last year, I decided that instead of just talking about foot-washing, I should give you the opportunity to come forward and have your feet washed. There were a couple of “plants” in the congregation that I had arranged with ahead of time. They promised me that even if nobody else came forward, they would do so. Even just a couple of foot-washings would be a sufficient object lesson. To my surprise, however, most people came forward and let me wash their feet! It was a powerful experience for all of us and so we’re doing it again tonight.
Many of us feel rather self-conscious about our feet, even if we are wearing nice shoes on them. To come forward and take off a sock and let it be washed, demands that you let go of those inhibitions and come as you are. This is not about how your feet look, though. This is about experiencing what the disciples got to experience. It is about being served in a symbolic, humble gesture so that it will empower you to go out and do likewise.
Our feet carry us so many places in the course of our lives. Jesus wants to have control of those feet. He wants to wash them in his love and self-sacrificial death on the cross and he wants to empower them to continue his work so that we walk in “his shoes” in the light of God.
I urge you to think about your feet in this Holy Week journey. As they are washed tonight, may you listen carefully to what the Spirit is saying to you. Where exactly are your feet supposed to take you? Perhaps it is to that family member of friend with whom you have a conflict. Your feet need to go make peace. Perhaps it is to that person in physical pain. Your feet need to take you to their bedside. Perhaps it is to that outsider whom everyone else has forgotten. Your feet need to include them, to take you to them so they can feel included. Perhaps it is to those people across the globe in need. Your feet need to serve them through the funding of missionaries or perhaps even becoming one yourself. There are endless possibilities for your little feet. They have great journeys to make. To walk in Jesus’ shoes means that we must always be eager to help, to uplift, to comfort, to support and to serve. That’s what being a disciple is all about.
On this Holy Thursday, our feet are compelled to take action. Jesus calls us to love one another, generously, recklessly, without counting the cost. That’s why Jesus spent his very last evening on earth washing his disciples feet and emphatically issuing this new commandment—a commandment which speaks to us as loudly today as it did then. May we walk in the light of Christ, polka dotted shoes and all. Amen.
© 2008 Laura Gentry
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Sunday, March 16, 2008
SAVE NOW!
A Sermon for Palm Sunday
March 16, 2008
Pastor Laura Gentry
Matthew 21:1-11
When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, "Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, 'The Lord needs them.' And he will send them immediately." This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet, saying, "Tell the daughter of Zion, Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey." The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting, "Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!" When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, "Who is this?" The crowds were saying, "This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee." (NRSV)
Grace and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
“Hosanna!” they shout at Jesus as he enters the great city of Jerusalem. “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” They welcome Jesus into the city with open arms. They show great enthusiasm, waving branches as he comes. It must have been a marvelous parade! How exciting to see Jesus riding in upon a colt and being heralded as the prophet from Nazareth.
But wait a minute! Aren’t these the same people who make up the crowd who will turn on him by the end of the week and throw their angry fists in the air? Aren’t they the same ones that will soon beg Pilate to “Crucify Him!” Aren’t they the bloodthirsty crowd who would rather see a convicted felon, Barabas, released than allow Jesus to live? From “Hosanna” to “Crucify him!” Quite a change in public opinion in one week’s time. What’s going on here?
This story begins with the explanation of how Jesus' disciples obtain the colt upon which Jesus will ride into Jerusalem. Matthew makes it clear that Jesus’ entrance into the Holy City upon this young donkey is another fulfillment of Zechariah’s prophesy about him: “Tell the daughter of Zion, look , your king is coming to you, humble and mounted on a donkey, and on a cold, the foal of a donkey.”(Zech. 9:9) So the disciples go and do as Jesus commands them and they retrieve the colt for him without incident. Jesus is intentional about his use of a colt—even though he has to borrow one for this purpose—because in fulfilling the prophesy, he is claiming to be Messiah.
Not only that, but Jesus' use of a donkey shows that he is coming in peace. In biblical times, if a king was going to war, he would ride into the city on a horse as a sign that he intended to wage war. But when a king came in peace, he would ride in on a donkey. We can see that Jesus chooses the animal of peace. He comes as the king not of war, but of peace.
But the crowd doesn’t seem to want peace! They want a military leader to reign over Israel. They want a king who ride in triumphantly on a horse—who will wage war and win the victory for them. A leader who will overthrow their Roman oppressors, that’s what they prefer. Jesus' desire for peace truly the hopes of the energetic crowd. They don't even seem to notice that he’s not on a horse. They still think he’s going to lead them to war so they give him a conqueror's welcome, a military hero's welcome.
They shout: “Hosanna!” This cry is used today as a praise word. We sing it in our communion liturgy, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, Hosanna in the highest.” Yet, in Hebrew, it literally means “Save now!” It is an expression ancient Israelites used to beg for help and protection from their king. When the people cry “Hosanna!” it is not a shout of praise, it is a cry for help. They want God to intervene in their human affairs through the gift of this Messiah. They want so badly to be saved.
They toss their garments on the ground—another expression of respect for a king. For many, this cloak is all they own, yet they willingly cast it before Jesus, their king. “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” they say. The phrase “He who comes,” was a common expression for Messiah. They had always spoken of the coming Messiah as “the one who is coming.” So they do recognize that Jesus is the Savior, but they don't know what kind of savior he intends to be.
And this expression the people use, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” is from Psalm 118 (verse 32), which we heard at the start of today’s service. In 167 B.C. there was an extraordinary king in Syria called Antiocheius. He was a zealot of Greek religion who, for a time, conquered Palestine. He made it against the law to possess a copy of the Jewish law or to circumcise a child. These were crimes punishable by death. He desecrated the Temple courts and made it a worship place for Zeus instead of God. With deliberate insult, he offered swine's flesh at the great altar of the temple. You must understand this was most blasphemous act imaginable. He did everything he could to wipe out the Jewish faith. It was then that the hero Judas Maccabaeus arose. He drove Antiocheius out and repurified and reconsecrated the temple, an event which is now celebrated as the feast of Hanukkah. Scholars believe Psalm 118 was written to commemorate that great day of purification and the battle, which Maccabaeus won. Therefore, is a conqueror's psalm.
And it is the same phrase used in this Palm Sunday scene. Jesus does not claim to be a military leader—instead he comes in peace. He is riding on a colt. Later in the week, when they see he is not the man of war they thought he was, when they see that he is no Judas Maccabaeus, they turn on him.
Intentionally, Jesus begins his journey—humbly marching headlong into suffering and death. God has a bigger plan to save all of humanity through this Messiah, not just Israel. God has a plan to answer those “Hosanna” cries for salvation, even though the crowd can’t understand that now.
I remember reading about an actress who spent a summer of her college years doing a low-budget, outdoor Easter pageant. The quality of theatrical resources was dismal. It was poorly organized and the cast ended up playing all sorts of practical jokes on each other just to keep up their moral. In the rain and the mud, the actor portraying Jesus tried to get the donkey to cooperate in the Palm Sunday scene. The donkey (named Jack) always refused to cooperate. So Jesus, who was supposed to be riding the donkey, many times ended up trying to lead him and often slipped in the mud and fell on his behind (so you can imagine the jokes it sparked about Jesus arriving into Jerusalem on his you-know-what). The whole miserable thing suddenly took on a new meaning for this actress who was struck by the extremely vulnerable position of Jesus in front of the crowd. She wrote: “I realized God sent a savior not as a powerful conqueror but as one with an extremely vulnerable heart of compassion. Suddenly, I can see that I don't want a powerful conqueror. No, I want this vulnerable one. He's the one I can give my own vulnerable heart to. He's the only one who can save me.”
Jesus is not the military leader come to vanquish our earthly enemies and instantly make life easy for us according to earthly standards. He is the vulnerable king who has come to wage war, not on enemy people, but on sin and death. We may not understand him. We may wish he'd come to save us some other way. But we do know that he has come to answer our “Hosanna!” cries. “Save now!” we cry, “Save now!” From our troubled breasts, our cry goes up to God and because of what Jesus has done for us on the cross, we know that that cry will not go unheard.
As we enter into Holy Week, may we have the courage to follow this vulnerable one to the cross that we may rise victoriously with him on Easter morning.
Now, may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
© 2008 Laura E. Gentry
March 16, 2008
Pastor Laura Gentry
Matthew 21:1-11
When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, "Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, 'The Lord needs them.' And he will send them immediately." This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet, saying, "Tell the daughter of Zion, Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey." The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting, "Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!" When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, "Who is this?" The crowds were saying, "This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee." (NRSV)
Grace and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
“Hosanna!” they shout at Jesus as he enters the great city of Jerusalem. “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” They welcome Jesus into the city with open arms. They show great enthusiasm, waving branches as he comes. It must have been a marvelous parade! How exciting to see Jesus riding in upon a colt and being heralded as the prophet from Nazareth.
But wait a minute! Aren’t these the same people who make up the crowd who will turn on him by the end of the week and throw their angry fists in the air? Aren’t they the same ones that will soon beg Pilate to “Crucify Him!” Aren’t they the bloodthirsty crowd who would rather see a convicted felon, Barabas, released than allow Jesus to live? From “Hosanna” to “Crucify him!” Quite a change in public opinion in one week’s time. What’s going on here?
This story begins with the explanation of how Jesus' disciples obtain the colt upon which Jesus will ride into Jerusalem. Matthew makes it clear that Jesus’ entrance into the Holy City upon this young donkey is another fulfillment of Zechariah’s prophesy about him: “Tell the daughter of Zion, look , your king is coming to you, humble and mounted on a donkey, and on a cold, the foal of a donkey.”(Zech. 9:9) So the disciples go and do as Jesus commands them and they retrieve the colt for him without incident. Jesus is intentional about his use of a colt—even though he has to borrow one for this purpose—because in fulfilling the prophesy, he is claiming to be Messiah.
Not only that, but Jesus' use of a donkey shows that he is coming in peace. In biblical times, if a king was going to war, he would ride into the city on a horse as a sign that he intended to wage war. But when a king came in peace, he would ride in on a donkey. We can see that Jesus chooses the animal of peace. He comes as the king not of war, but of peace.
But the crowd doesn’t seem to want peace! They want a military leader to reign over Israel. They want a king who ride in triumphantly on a horse—who will wage war and win the victory for them. A leader who will overthrow their Roman oppressors, that’s what they prefer. Jesus' desire for peace truly the hopes of the energetic crowd. They don't even seem to notice that he’s not on a horse. They still think he’s going to lead them to war so they give him a conqueror's welcome, a military hero's welcome.
They shout: “Hosanna!” This cry is used today as a praise word. We sing it in our communion liturgy, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, Hosanna in the highest.” Yet, in Hebrew, it literally means “Save now!” It is an expression ancient Israelites used to beg for help and protection from their king. When the people cry “Hosanna!” it is not a shout of praise, it is a cry for help. They want God to intervene in their human affairs through the gift of this Messiah. They want so badly to be saved.
They toss their garments on the ground—another expression of respect for a king. For many, this cloak is all they own, yet they willingly cast it before Jesus, their king. “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” they say. The phrase “He who comes,” was a common expression for Messiah. They had always spoken of the coming Messiah as “the one who is coming.” So they do recognize that Jesus is the Savior, but they don't know what kind of savior he intends to be.
And this expression the people use, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” is from Psalm 118 (verse 32), which we heard at the start of today’s service. In 167 B.C. there was an extraordinary king in Syria called Antiocheius. He was a zealot of Greek religion who, for a time, conquered Palestine. He made it against the law to possess a copy of the Jewish law or to circumcise a child. These were crimes punishable by death. He desecrated the Temple courts and made it a worship place for Zeus instead of God. With deliberate insult, he offered swine's flesh at the great altar of the temple. You must understand this was most blasphemous act imaginable. He did everything he could to wipe out the Jewish faith. It was then that the hero Judas Maccabaeus arose. He drove Antiocheius out and repurified and reconsecrated the temple, an event which is now celebrated as the feast of Hanukkah. Scholars believe Psalm 118 was written to commemorate that great day of purification and the battle, which Maccabaeus won. Therefore, is a conqueror's psalm.
And it is the same phrase used in this Palm Sunday scene. Jesus does not claim to be a military leader—instead he comes in peace. He is riding on a colt. Later in the week, when they see he is not the man of war they thought he was, when they see that he is no Judas Maccabaeus, they turn on him.
Intentionally, Jesus begins his journey—humbly marching headlong into suffering and death. God has a bigger plan to save all of humanity through this Messiah, not just Israel. God has a plan to answer those “Hosanna” cries for salvation, even though the crowd can’t understand that now.
I remember reading about an actress who spent a summer of her college years doing a low-budget, outdoor Easter pageant. The quality of theatrical resources was dismal. It was poorly organized and the cast ended up playing all sorts of practical jokes on each other just to keep up their moral. In the rain and the mud, the actor portraying Jesus tried to get the donkey to cooperate in the Palm Sunday scene. The donkey (named Jack) always refused to cooperate. So Jesus, who was supposed to be riding the donkey, many times ended up trying to lead him and often slipped in the mud and fell on his behind (so you can imagine the jokes it sparked about Jesus arriving into Jerusalem on his you-know-what). The whole miserable thing suddenly took on a new meaning for this actress who was struck by the extremely vulnerable position of Jesus in front of the crowd. She wrote: “I realized God sent a savior not as a powerful conqueror but as one with an extremely vulnerable heart of compassion. Suddenly, I can see that I don't want a powerful conqueror. No, I want this vulnerable one. He's the one I can give my own vulnerable heart to. He's the only one who can save me.”
Jesus is not the military leader come to vanquish our earthly enemies and instantly make life easy for us according to earthly standards. He is the vulnerable king who has come to wage war, not on enemy people, but on sin and death. We may not understand him. We may wish he'd come to save us some other way. But we do know that he has come to answer our “Hosanna!” cries. “Save now!” we cry, “Save now!” From our troubled breasts, our cry goes up to God and because of what Jesus has done for us on the cross, we know that that cry will not go unheard.
As we enter into Holy Week, may we have the courage to follow this vulnerable one to the cross that we may rise victoriously with him on Easter morning.
Now, may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
© 2008 Laura E. Gentry
Sunday, March 9, 2008
DRY BONES, NO MORE
A Sermon for the 5th Sunday of Lent
March 9, 2008
Pastor Laura Gentry
Ezekiel 37:1-14
The hand of the Lord came upon me, and he brought me out by the spirit of the Lord and set me down in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. He led me all around them; there were very many lying in the valley, and they were very dry. He said to me, “Mortal, can these bones live?” I answered, “O Lord God, you know.” Then he said to me, “Prophesy to these bones, and say to them: O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord. Thus says the Lord God to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. I will lay sinews on you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live; and you shall know that I am the Lord.” So I prophesied as I had been commanded; and as I prophesied, suddenly there was a noise, a rattling, and the bones came together, bone to its bone. I looked, and there were sinews on them, and flesh had come upon them, and skin had covered them; but there was no breath in them. Then he said to me, “Prophesy to the breath, prophesy, mortal, and say to the breath: Thus says the Lord God: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live.” I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived, and stood on their feet, a vast multitude. Then he said to me, “Mortal, these bones are the whole house of Israel. They say, ‘Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.’ Therefore prophesy, and say to them, Thus says the Lord God: I am going to open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people; and I will bring you back to the land of Israel. And you shall know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people. I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act,” says the Lord. (NRSV)
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
The prophet Ezekiel is famous for his poetic flare and graphic visions and today’s lesson from the Hebrew Scripture, we heard his grand vision of the valley of the dry bones. It is a bizarre and shocking passage and yet it brings an amazing message of resurrection, a message we desperately need to hear. So let’s give it a closer look.
In this vision, the Spirit of the Lord comes upon Ezekiel. It leads him out into a valley that is carpeted with dry bones—long-forgotten bones who’s flesh has disintegrated in the hot desert sun, bones that have been scattered from flash flooding and wind or erosion, bones that are crumbling, worthless bones. It is an eerie landscape to be sure. And yet, this is where the Lord has brought Ezekiel. According to the Law, anyone who touched a bone was considered unclean and priests like Ezekiel were not allowed to come in contact with the dead. And here stands Ezekiel who doesn’t just view it from a distance, he gets the grand tour of the valley: back and forth God leads him through the awful debris—perhaps he can hear the cracking of bones with each step.
And then comes the big question: God asks, “Son of man, can these bones live?”
It kind of seems like Ezekiel is avoiding the question in the way that he answers. He sighs: “O Lord God, you know.” Knowing what we do about Ezekiel’s circumstance, it must have taken all the faith in the world for him to respond this way. God’s people are living in exile in Babylon, far from where they believe God to be. They are lost, forlorn and afraid. Their tears flow into the river until their hope is dried up like these dry, dry bones. They have absolutely no idea how they can go forward or even if they can keep believing in God. Ezekiel knows that God alone knows if these dry bones can live.
We, too, know what it is to be in the valley of the dry bones. Sometimes, I look down at my desk and I see bills and credit card slips and notes to myself and papers to file and junk mail and unread magazines and shoes (sometimes it gets out of hand) and I can’t even see the surface of my desk anymore. And it becomes a metaphor for my life—so full of the clutter of daily life, that I can no longer see the presence of God. I used to have a hamster named Eunice, and she would sit in the corner and chew on the bars of her cage so vigorously that when I’d open the door, she wouldn’t even notice. Sometimes we have hamster vision and can’t find the open door even though it’s right before us. Oh, we can put on a front and make it look like we’re so together that no troubles could ever stick to us. But sometimes at night, those things we can’t reconcile or accept or forgive or overcome—they snuggle up with us and all we can do is cry “Help me, help me, help me, help me.” Usually, it’s not even that dramatic. Sometimes, we can’t feel the stuff that’s going on in our inner lives because we’re just too busy or too numb to process it. Life can be such an effort! Oh, we have our good days and our bad days and we trudge along for the most part—but in those times of immense struggle and heartache, we realize how helpless and how spiritually bankrupt we really are—and deep inside, we know that we know what is is to be in the valley of the dry bones.
“How Long, Oh God, the exiles cry, a cry we make our own
For we are lost, alone, afraid and far away from home.”
But that’s not where the vision ends. “O Lord God, you know,” says Ezekiel. God’s knows, yes God knows. And the Lord says to Ezekiel: “Prophesy to these bones, and say to them: O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord. 5Thus says the Lord God to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. 6I will lay sinews on you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live; and you shall know that I am the Lord.”
And Ezekiel prophesies as he was commanded. What is that noise? The rattling, the rattling grows louder and louder—tired bones suddenly assemble, coming together from all realms of the valley, bones everywhere, moving, swirling, dancing whisking past his face and coming together, end to end in perfect order and tendons grow upon them and muscles and blood vessels and internal viscera and vital organs form and flesh covers them. Can you imagine it?
The Lord speaks again, ““Prophesy to the breath, prophesy, mortal, and say to the breath: Thus says the Lord God: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live.” And when Ezekiel does as he as been commanded, the wind arises and with a loud roar, it blows the mighty breath of God into every single dead body and they not only come to life, but they stand up on their feet!
The Hebrew word “Ru’ach” is translated here as “breath” but it also means wind and spirit. The Spirit of God brings new life. The Spirit resurrect us, not just when we die but now when we need revitalization. That’s the miracle of this vision.
We are not forgotten by God. Not even our driest valley of hopelessness can prevent the Spirit’s revitalizing touch, with all its richness. In those nights when we cry, “Help me, help me!” we may not feel the drama of rattling bones but we will find a shoulder upon which we can lean. For God’s power is made perfect in our weakness. God knows that our dry bones will rise again. Even if it makes no sense to believe that revival will come to us, we can believe it.
Then the Lord says to the exiles in Babylonia, those chosen ones who have been cut off, whose hope is gone: “I am going to open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people; and I will bring you back to the land of Israel. And you shall know that I am the Lord. I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act,” says the Lord.
No stronger word of encouragement could have been spoken to these sorrowful people. And God delivers on this promise. Just 50 years later the great Babylonian empire falls and they are allowed to return home from exile. They are given a new temple in which to worship God.
Where is it that you want the Spirit God to lead you? What do you need to know the resurrection power of God in your life? This vision reminds us that God does not want us dwelling in the valley of the dry bones. God wants to deliver us, to breathe life back into our weary souls, to open the door and lead us back into the heart of God where there is peace—peace that passes all understanding for you in me in the here and now. We do not need to wait until we die to taste of resurrection. It is now for those of us who live in God’s Spirit. It is now. Saint Paul declares: “...If the Spirit of God who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, the one who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through the Spirit who lives in You.”
“How Long, oh God, the exiles cry, a cry we make our own
Though we are lost, alone, afraid, our God will lead us home.”
Now may the peace of God which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Amen.
© 2008 Laura Gentry
March 9, 2008
Pastor Laura Gentry
Ezekiel 37:1-14
The hand of the Lord came upon me, and he brought me out by the spirit of the Lord and set me down in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. He led me all around them; there were very many lying in the valley, and they were very dry. He said to me, “Mortal, can these bones live?” I answered, “O Lord God, you know.” Then he said to me, “Prophesy to these bones, and say to them: O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord. Thus says the Lord God to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. I will lay sinews on you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live; and you shall know that I am the Lord.” So I prophesied as I had been commanded; and as I prophesied, suddenly there was a noise, a rattling, and the bones came together, bone to its bone. I looked, and there were sinews on them, and flesh had come upon them, and skin had covered them; but there was no breath in them. Then he said to me, “Prophesy to the breath, prophesy, mortal, and say to the breath: Thus says the Lord God: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live.” I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived, and stood on their feet, a vast multitude. Then he said to me, “Mortal, these bones are the whole house of Israel. They say, ‘Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.’ Therefore prophesy, and say to them, Thus says the Lord God: I am going to open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people; and I will bring you back to the land of Israel. And you shall know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people. I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act,” says the Lord. (NRSV)
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
The prophet Ezekiel is famous for his poetic flare and graphic visions and today’s lesson from the Hebrew Scripture, we heard his grand vision of the valley of the dry bones. It is a bizarre and shocking passage and yet it brings an amazing message of resurrection, a message we desperately need to hear. So let’s give it a closer look.
In this vision, the Spirit of the Lord comes upon Ezekiel. It leads him out into a valley that is carpeted with dry bones—long-forgotten bones who’s flesh has disintegrated in the hot desert sun, bones that have been scattered from flash flooding and wind or erosion, bones that are crumbling, worthless bones. It is an eerie landscape to be sure. And yet, this is where the Lord has brought Ezekiel. According to the Law, anyone who touched a bone was considered unclean and priests like Ezekiel were not allowed to come in contact with the dead. And here stands Ezekiel who doesn’t just view it from a distance, he gets the grand tour of the valley: back and forth God leads him through the awful debris—perhaps he can hear the cracking of bones with each step.
And then comes the big question: God asks, “Son of man, can these bones live?”
It kind of seems like Ezekiel is avoiding the question in the way that he answers. He sighs: “O Lord God, you know.” Knowing what we do about Ezekiel’s circumstance, it must have taken all the faith in the world for him to respond this way. God’s people are living in exile in Babylon, far from where they believe God to be. They are lost, forlorn and afraid. Their tears flow into the river until their hope is dried up like these dry, dry bones. They have absolutely no idea how they can go forward or even if they can keep believing in God. Ezekiel knows that God alone knows if these dry bones can live.
We, too, know what it is to be in the valley of the dry bones. Sometimes, I look down at my desk and I see bills and credit card slips and notes to myself and papers to file and junk mail and unread magazines and shoes (sometimes it gets out of hand) and I can’t even see the surface of my desk anymore. And it becomes a metaphor for my life—so full of the clutter of daily life, that I can no longer see the presence of God. I used to have a hamster named Eunice, and she would sit in the corner and chew on the bars of her cage so vigorously that when I’d open the door, she wouldn’t even notice. Sometimes we have hamster vision and can’t find the open door even though it’s right before us. Oh, we can put on a front and make it look like we’re so together that no troubles could ever stick to us. But sometimes at night, those things we can’t reconcile or accept or forgive or overcome—they snuggle up with us and all we can do is cry “Help me, help me, help me, help me.” Usually, it’s not even that dramatic. Sometimes, we can’t feel the stuff that’s going on in our inner lives because we’re just too busy or too numb to process it. Life can be such an effort! Oh, we have our good days and our bad days and we trudge along for the most part—but in those times of immense struggle and heartache, we realize how helpless and how spiritually bankrupt we really are—and deep inside, we know that we know what is is to be in the valley of the dry bones.
“How Long, Oh God, the exiles cry, a cry we make our own
For we are lost, alone, afraid and far away from home.”
But that’s not where the vision ends. “O Lord God, you know,” says Ezekiel. God’s knows, yes God knows. And the Lord says to Ezekiel: “Prophesy to these bones, and say to them: O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord. 5Thus says the Lord God to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. 6I will lay sinews on you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live; and you shall know that I am the Lord.”
And Ezekiel prophesies as he was commanded. What is that noise? The rattling, the rattling grows louder and louder—tired bones suddenly assemble, coming together from all realms of the valley, bones everywhere, moving, swirling, dancing whisking past his face and coming together, end to end in perfect order and tendons grow upon them and muscles and blood vessels and internal viscera and vital organs form and flesh covers them. Can you imagine it?
The Lord speaks again, ““Prophesy to the breath, prophesy, mortal, and say to the breath: Thus says the Lord God: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live.” And when Ezekiel does as he as been commanded, the wind arises and with a loud roar, it blows the mighty breath of God into every single dead body and they not only come to life, but they stand up on their feet!
The Hebrew word “Ru’ach” is translated here as “breath” but it also means wind and spirit. The Spirit of God brings new life. The Spirit resurrect us, not just when we die but now when we need revitalization. That’s the miracle of this vision.
We are not forgotten by God. Not even our driest valley of hopelessness can prevent the Spirit’s revitalizing touch, with all its richness. In those nights when we cry, “Help me, help me!” we may not feel the drama of rattling bones but we will find a shoulder upon which we can lean. For God’s power is made perfect in our weakness. God knows that our dry bones will rise again. Even if it makes no sense to believe that revival will come to us, we can believe it.
Then the Lord says to the exiles in Babylonia, those chosen ones who have been cut off, whose hope is gone: “I am going to open your graves, and bring you up from your graves, O my people; and I will bring you back to the land of Israel. And you shall know that I am the Lord. I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act,” says the Lord.
No stronger word of encouragement could have been spoken to these sorrowful people. And God delivers on this promise. Just 50 years later the great Babylonian empire falls and they are allowed to return home from exile. They are given a new temple in which to worship God.
Where is it that you want the Spirit God to lead you? What do you need to know the resurrection power of God in your life? This vision reminds us that God does not want us dwelling in the valley of the dry bones. God wants to deliver us, to breathe life back into our weary souls, to open the door and lead us back into the heart of God where there is peace—peace that passes all understanding for you in me in the here and now. We do not need to wait until we die to taste of resurrection. It is now for those of us who live in God’s Spirit. It is now. Saint Paul declares: “...If the Spirit of God who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, the one who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through the Spirit who lives in You.”
“How Long, oh God, the exiles cry, a cry we make our own
Though we are lost, alone, afraid, our God will lead us home.”
Now may the peace of God which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Amen.
© 2008 Laura Gentry
Monday, March 3, 2008
NOW I SEE!
A Sermon for the Fourth Sunday in Lent
March 3, 2008
Pastor Laura Gentry
John 4:5-42
So he came to a Samaritan city called Sychar, near the plot of ground that Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired out by his journey, was sitting by the well. It was about noon. A Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.” (His disciples had gone to the city to buy food.) The Samaritan woman said to him, “How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?” (Jews do not share things in common with Samaritans.) Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.” The woman said to him, “Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water? Are you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us the well, and with his sons and his flocks drank from it?” Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.” Jesus said to her, “Go, call your husband, and come back.” The woman answered him, “I have no husband.” Jesus said to her, “You are right in saying, ‘I have no husband’; for you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said is true!” The woman said to him, “Sir, I see that you are a prophet. Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, but you say that the place where people must worship is in Jerusalem.” Jesus said to her, “Woman, believe me, the hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for salvation is from the Jews. But the hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father seeks such as these to worship him. God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.” The woman said to him, “I know that Messiah is coming” (who is called Christ). “When he comes, he will proclaim all things to us.” Jesus said to her, “I am he, the one who is speaking to you.”
Just then his disciples came. They were astonished that he was speaking with a woman, but no one said, “What do you want?” or, “Why are you speaking with her?” Then the woman left her water jar and went back to the city. She said to the people, “Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he?” They left the city and were on their way to him. Meanwhile the disciples were urging him, “Rabbi, eat something.” But he said to them, “I have food to eat that you do not know about.” So the disciples said to one another, “Surely no one has brought him something to eat?” Jesus said to them, “My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to complete his work. Do you not say, ‘Four months more, then comes the harvest’? But I tell you, look around you, and see how the fields are ripe for harvesting. The reaper is already receiving wages and is gathering fruit for eternal life, so that sower and reaper may rejoice together. For here the saying holds true, ‘One sows and another reaps.’ I sent you to reap that for which you did not labor. Others have labored, and you have entered into their labor.” Many Samaritans from that city believed in him because of the woman’s testimony, “He told me everything I have ever done.” So when the Samaritans came to him, they asked him to stay with them; and he stayed there two days. And many more believed because of his word. They said to the woman, “It is no longer because of what you said that we believe, for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is truly the Savior of the world.” (NRSV)
Grace and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
Many times, when someone faces tragedy or loss, the first thing they ask is: “What have I done to deserve this? Why is God punishing me?” Perhaps you’ve asked this question a time or two yourself. Whether it is financial crisis, personal health problems, a death in the family, or some other tragedy, it is easy to assume that we’ve offended God in some way, and now we are receiving retribution.
Well this theory that we get what we deserve is exactly what the Pharisees of Jesus’ day were teaching. In our Gospel reading for this morning, Jesus and his disciples are passing a blind man on their way into the temple, and it reminds them of this very theological issue about the cause of suffering. They wonder about this particular beggar, whom everyone knows has been blind since birth—could he have somehow sinned in utero to bring this blindness upon himself, or was it the sin of his parents that caused him to suffer in this way? This may sound like a peculiar question to us, but it was really a pressing issue in Jesus’ time.
You see, the religious teachers had actually developed a whole theory of prenatal sin. They believed a person could begin to sin even before leaving the womb. There were lengthy conversations about whether sin first embraced a person before or after the child was born. Some theologians believed in the preexistence of the soul. They held that all souls existed from the beginning of the world and were holy, but the minute those souls were placed in bodies, they became corrupt and sinful. So certainly a person born blind could have caused his own affliction, or so they thought.
But of course, his troubles could well be the fruit of his parents’ sin. The idea that children inherit the consequences of their parents’ sin is woven into the thought of the Old Testament. In Exodus, we hear from God: “I the Lord your God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children to the third and fourth generations.” (Exodus 20:5, 34:7) The theory behind this is that people do not live to themselves or die to themselves. Sin is infectious. When a person sins, a whole train of consequences is set into action which has no end.
So, back to our story—how does Jesus respond to this question? Surprisingly, he does not validate any of these popular streams of thought about the connection between sin and suffering. He tells them plainly: “Neither this man nor his parents sinned, but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life.” (John 9:3) Suffering, Jesus demonstrates, is not a punishment for sin, but an opportunity for God’s glory to be revealed. It is a chance for God’s endless compassion to shine through and transform the sufferer as well as the whole community. Oh, if we could only believe and embrace these words—rather than blame ourselves every time we face trouble. If only we could truly say: “This tragedy has happened so that the work of God might be displayed in my life!”
Jesus is eager to display God’s work in the blind man’s life. He says to his disciples, “I am the light of the world!” (John 9:5) Then, he goes to work.. He spits on the ground, makes it into a clay paste, and smears it on the eyes of the blind man, then tells him to go wash in the pool of Siloam. Now the use of saliva to effect a cure seems strange and repulsive to us—and most unhygienic. But in the ancient world, believe it or not, it was quite common. Saliva, especially if it came from a famous person, was believed to posses great curative powers. I’m not sure if Medicare covered saliva or not, but I’m sure you would have needed a prescription for it. So, by doing this, Jesus is using the methods and customs of his time. He is a wise physician—first gaining the confidence of his patient.
Then, as the blind man rinses the clay from his eyes at the Pool of Siloam, his sight is miraculously given to him. And immediately, there is trouble. When he returns, the neighbors—who had always seem him begging—begin to gossip about whether or not it is really him. They cannot believe it is the same man. “How could he possibly have been healed?” They wonder.
But that is not even the whole of the dilemma. The religious people get wind of this and the questions begin to fly. Isn’t this the Sabbath day, after all, and isn’t healing someone considered work and isn’t working on the Sabbath day dreadfully sinful and how could such a sinful action produce a pretty convincing miracle like giving a blind man sight for the very first time? You see, this opens a whole can of worms and baffles everyone.
Understandably, it is hard for us to see all of this complexity, because we do not understand the religious laws of Jesus’ day. Sabbath day laws were very strict. You could not do any work on the Sabbath, according to the law. You couldn’t even fill up a dish with oil to light your lamp—you just had to leave the Friday night lamp burning all night long, so you wouldn’t have to “work” to light it on the Sabbath. And you couldn’t wear sandals that had nails in them because walking with the weight of those shoes would be considered “carrying a burden,” which would also be considered work. And in this story, Jesus spits on the ground, stoops down to mix it up, and then stands back up and spreads it on the eyes of the man. This was unquestionably doing “work on the Sabbath,” and by any measure, this is a most unholy thing to do! Jesus is breaking God’s holy law!
And as the on-lookers work to unravel the questions that this scenario brings up for them, they become more and more blind to the things of the Spirit. Ironically, as one man gains his sight, the others lose theirs. The healed man’s neighbors make him prove his identity, the Pharisee’s subject him to formal interrogations, and his own parents waffle under all the pressure, fearing that they will be thrown out of the temple for affirming the healing that Jesus has performed on their son. As for the healed man himself, he has little interest in all these theoretical musings: “Whether Jesus is a sinner or not, I don’t know,” he simply tells them, “One thing I do know. I was blind but now I see.” He has experienced the reality of God’s work in his life and he simply can’t deny it!
The Pharisees are livid about his response. This “prophet” Jesus has been already been censured in Jerusalem for being a heretic, but now he’s stirring up more trouble than they can take. And the worst part for the Pharisees is that, try as they might, they cannot disprove the miracle that Jesus has performed. It has been verified that the man been born blind is now seeing clearly! In fact, during their investigation, he looks them squarely in the eyes and taunts them in open court: “Why do you want to hear my story again?” he asks, “Do you also want to become his disciple?” And then, he says that Jesus must be from God or he would not have been able to perform such a marvelous miracle.
At this, the Pharisees snap right back to their old time-worn theory of punishment that the disciples had discussed with Jesus when the story began. “You were born entirely in sin, and you are trying to teach us?” They are so full of their own pride that they have become blind men! They simply cannot see God’s glory being revealed in this miracle. One Pharisee, sensing this asks, “Surely, we are not blind, are we?” And Jesus verifies that they are, indeed, blind.
Like the Pharisees in this story, many people today are walking around with deep spiritual blindness. We meet them all the time. They can be the super-religious, who feel they are so righteous by their good works that they really don’t need God’s grace to save them. They can be the people who have had a bad experience with a church and so they’ve dismissed God entirely. “I’m spiritual but not religious,” they claim and can never be persuaded into coming back to worship. They can be the self-declared atheists who cannot prove God and therefore, are blind to God’s actions all around them. And they can even be you and me.
This Sunday, our Lenten journey reaches a place where we are called to acknowledge our own spiritual blindness and seek Jesus' healing touch. But this kind of seeking is risky, because it has the possibility of turning our neatly-ordered lives upside-down. The man born blind in today's Gospel finds himself in unusual and unexpected places. Before, he was a beggar that nobody really noticed—his life was simple. After encountering Christ, he becomes unrecognizable to his neighbors and finds himself witnessing about the power of God in the court of the religious authorities. I’m sure he’d have never dreamed he would have the courage to do such a thing. But the power of Jesus has changed him and he will never be the same again.
How might the world look if we were healed of our blindness? We might see leadership emerging in strange and unexpected places. We might hear God speaking through the voices of people we’ve never listened to before, people we might not consider important by worldly standards. We might find new ways of relating to God and each other—ways that we had not even imagined before, ways that could bring healing to our life together. We might be given the grace to truly forgive those people who wronged us back in ‘73, you know, the ones we’ve successfully avoided these many decades? We might even dare to look beyond our conventional ways of thinking, to think "outside the box" and realize that God is greater than our ways of thinking allow. We might discover that the Holy Spirit can give us the courage to witness to the power of the Christ's light, even to people we thought we could never reach. We might realize that the problems we face as individuals and as a church truly are opportunities for God’s glory to be revealed. We might be able to cry out with the healed man, “All I know is that I was blind and now I see!”
So this Lenten Gospel reading indeed confronts us with a great challenge today. Do we dare risk the journey of the man born blind? Do we dare venture out like Samuel did in our first reading, to find something new in the unlikeliest of places? Christ is inviting us to put aside our old ways of seeing and to see, instead, through the eyes of God. And what we will see and how we will see remains a mystery until we actually dare to try—until we put our own blindness completely into the healing hands of the one who says, “I am the light of the world,” and are then, at last declare, “Now I see!”
Now, may the peace of God which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Amen.
© Laura Gentry 2008
March 3, 2008
Pastor Laura Gentry
John 4:5-42
So he came to a Samaritan city called Sychar, near the plot of ground that Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired out by his journey, was sitting by the well. It was about noon. A Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.” (His disciples had gone to the city to buy food.) The Samaritan woman said to him, “How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?” (Jews do not share things in common with Samaritans.) Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.” The woman said to him, “Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water? Are you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us the well, and with his sons and his flocks drank from it?” Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.” Jesus said to her, “Go, call your husband, and come back.” The woman answered him, “I have no husband.” Jesus said to her, “You are right in saying, ‘I have no husband’; for you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said is true!” The woman said to him, “Sir, I see that you are a prophet. Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, but you say that the place where people must worship is in Jerusalem.” Jesus said to her, “Woman, believe me, the hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for salvation is from the Jews. But the hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father seeks such as these to worship him. God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.” The woman said to him, “I know that Messiah is coming” (who is called Christ). “When he comes, he will proclaim all things to us.” Jesus said to her, “I am he, the one who is speaking to you.”
Just then his disciples came. They were astonished that he was speaking with a woman, but no one said, “What do you want?” or, “Why are you speaking with her?” Then the woman left her water jar and went back to the city. She said to the people, “Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he?” They left the city and were on their way to him. Meanwhile the disciples were urging him, “Rabbi, eat something.” But he said to them, “I have food to eat that you do not know about.” So the disciples said to one another, “Surely no one has brought him something to eat?” Jesus said to them, “My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to complete his work. Do you not say, ‘Four months more, then comes the harvest’? But I tell you, look around you, and see how the fields are ripe for harvesting. The reaper is already receiving wages and is gathering fruit for eternal life, so that sower and reaper may rejoice together. For here the saying holds true, ‘One sows and another reaps.’ I sent you to reap that for which you did not labor. Others have labored, and you have entered into their labor.” Many Samaritans from that city believed in him because of the woman’s testimony, “He told me everything I have ever done.” So when the Samaritans came to him, they asked him to stay with them; and he stayed there two days. And many more believed because of his word. They said to the woman, “It is no longer because of what you said that we believe, for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is truly the Savior of the world.” (NRSV)
Grace and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
Many times, when someone faces tragedy or loss, the first thing they ask is: “What have I done to deserve this? Why is God punishing me?” Perhaps you’ve asked this question a time or two yourself. Whether it is financial crisis, personal health problems, a death in the family, or some other tragedy, it is easy to assume that we’ve offended God in some way, and now we are receiving retribution.
Well this theory that we get what we deserve is exactly what the Pharisees of Jesus’ day were teaching. In our Gospel reading for this morning, Jesus and his disciples are passing a blind man on their way into the temple, and it reminds them of this very theological issue about the cause of suffering. They wonder about this particular beggar, whom everyone knows has been blind since birth—could he have somehow sinned in utero to bring this blindness upon himself, or was it the sin of his parents that caused him to suffer in this way? This may sound like a peculiar question to us, but it was really a pressing issue in Jesus’ time.
You see, the religious teachers had actually developed a whole theory of prenatal sin. They believed a person could begin to sin even before leaving the womb. There were lengthy conversations about whether sin first embraced a person before or after the child was born. Some theologians believed in the preexistence of the soul. They held that all souls existed from the beginning of the world and were holy, but the minute those souls were placed in bodies, they became corrupt and sinful. So certainly a person born blind could have caused his own affliction, or so they thought.
But of course, his troubles could well be the fruit of his parents’ sin. The idea that children inherit the consequences of their parents’ sin is woven into the thought of the Old Testament. In Exodus, we hear from God: “I the Lord your God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children to the third and fourth generations.” (Exodus 20:5, 34:7) The theory behind this is that people do not live to themselves or die to themselves. Sin is infectious. When a person sins, a whole train of consequences is set into action which has no end.
So, back to our story—how does Jesus respond to this question? Surprisingly, he does not validate any of these popular streams of thought about the connection between sin and suffering. He tells them plainly: “Neither this man nor his parents sinned, but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life.” (John 9:3) Suffering, Jesus demonstrates, is not a punishment for sin, but an opportunity for God’s glory to be revealed. It is a chance for God’s endless compassion to shine through and transform the sufferer as well as the whole community. Oh, if we could only believe and embrace these words—rather than blame ourselves every time we face trouble. If only we could truly say: “This tragedy has happened so that the work of God might be displayed in my life!”
Jesus is eager to display God’s work in the blind man’s life. He says to his disciples, “I am the light of the world!” (John 9:5) Then, he goes to work.. He spits on the ground, makes it into a clay paste, and smears it on the eyes of the blind man, then tells him to go wash in the pool of Siloam. Now the use of saliva to effect a cure seems strange and repulsive to us—and most unhygienic. But in the ancient world, believe it or not, it was quite common. Saliva, especially if it came from a famous person, was believed to posses great curative powers. I’m not sure if Medicare covered saliva or not, but I’m sure you would have needed a prescription for it. So, by doing this, Jesus is using the methods and customs of his time. He is a wise physician—first gaining the confidence of his patient.
Then, as the blind man rinses the clay from his eyes at the Pool of Siloam, his sight is miraculously given to him. And immediately, there is trouble. When he returns, the neighbors—who had always seem him begging—begin to gossip about whether or not it is really him. They cannot believe it is the same man. “How could he possibly have been healed?” They wonder.
But that is not even the whole of the dilemma. The religious people get wind of this and the questions begin to fly. Isn’t this the Sabbath day, after all, and isn’t healing someone considered work and isn’t working on the Sabbath day dreadfully sinful and how could such a sinful action produce a pretty convincing miracle like giving a blind man sight for the very first time? You see, this opens a whole can of worms and baffles everyone.
Understandably, it is hard for us to see all of this complexity, because we do not understand the religious laws of Jesus’ day. Sabbath day laws were very strict. You could not do any work on the Sabbath, according to the law. You couldn’t even fill up a dish with oil to light your lamp—you just had to leave the Friday night lamp burning all night long, so you wouldn’t have to “work” to light it on the Sabbath. And you couldn’t wear sandals that had nails in them because walking with the weight of those shoes would be considered “carrying a burden,” which would also be considered work. And in this story, Jesus spits on the ground, stoops down to mix it up, and then stands back up and spreads it on the eyes of the man. This was unquestionably doing “work on the Sabbath,” and by any measure, this is a most unholy thing to do! Jesus is breaking God’s holy law!
And as the on-lookers work to unravel the questions that this scenario brings up for them, they become more and more blind to the things of the Spirit. Ironically, as one man gains his sight, the others lose theirs. The healed man’s neighbors make him prove his identity, the Pharisee’s subject him to formal interrogations, and his own parents waffle under all the pressure, fearing that they will be thrown out of the temple for affirming the healing that Jesus has performed on their son. As for the healed man himself, he has little interest in all these theoretical musings: “Whether Jesus is a sinner or not, I don’t know,” he simply tells them, “One thing I do know. I was blind but now I see.” He has experienced the reality of God’s work in his life and he simply can’t deny it!
The Pharisees are livid about his response. This “prophet” Jesus has been already been censured in Jerusalem for being a heretic, but now he’s stirring up more trouble than they can take. And the worst part for the Pharisees is that, try as they might, they cannot disprove the miracle that Jesus has performed. It has been verified that the man been born blind is now seeing clearly! In fact, during their investigation, he looks them squarely in the eyes and taunts them in open court: “Why do you want to hear my story again?” he asks, “Do you also want to become his disciple?” And then, he says that Jesus must be from God or he would not have been able to perform such a marvelous miracle.
At this, the Pharisees snap right back to their old time-worn theory of punishment that the disciples had discussed with Jesus when the story began. “You were born entirely in sin, and you are trying to teach us?” They are so full of their own pride that they have become blind men! They simply cannot see God’s glory being revealed in this miracle. One Pharisee, sensing this asks, “Surely, we are not blind, are we?” And Jesus verifies that they are, indeed, blind.
Like the Pharisees in this story, many people today are walking around with deep spiritual blindness. We meet them all the time. They can be the super-religious, who feel they are so righteous by their good works that they really don’t need God’s grace to save them. They can be the people who have had a bad experience with a church and so they’ve dismissed God entirely. “I’m spiritual but not religious,” they claim and can never be persuaded into coming back to worship. They can be the self-declared atheists who cannot prove God and therefore, are blind to God’s actions all around them. And they can even be you and me.
This Sunday, our Lenten journey reaches a place where we are called to acknowledge our own spiritual blindness and seek Jesus' healing touch. But this kind of seeking is risky, because it has the possibility of turning our neatly-ordered lives upside-down. The man born blind in today's Gospel finds himself in unusual and unexpected places. Before, he was a beggar that nobody really noticed—his life was simple. After encountering Christ, he becomes unrecognizable to his neighbors and finds himself witnessing about the power of God in the court of the religious authorities. I’m sure he’d have never dreamed he would have the courage to do such a thing. But the power of Jesus has changed him and he will never be the same again.
How might the world look if we were healed of our blindness? We might see leadership emerging in strange and unexpected places. We might hear God speaking through the voices of people we’ve never listened to before, people we might not consider important by worldly standards. We might find new ways of relating to God and each other—ways that we had not even imagined before, ways that could bring healing to our life together. We might be given the grace to truly forgive those people who wronged us back in ‘73, you know, the ones we’ve successfully avoided these many decades? We might even dare to look beyond our conventional ways of thinking, to think "outside the box" and realize that God is greater than our ways of thinking allow. We might discover that the Holy Spirit can give us the courage to witness to the power of the Christ's light, even to people we thought we could never reach. We might realize that the problems we face as individuals and as a church truly are opportunities for God’s glory to be revealed. We might be able to cry out with the healed man, “All I know is that I was blind and now I see!”
So this Lenten Gospel reading indeed confronts us with a great challenge today. Do we dare risk the journey of the man born blind? Do we dare venture out like Samuel did in our first reading, to find something new in the unlikeliest of places? Christ is inviting us to put aside our old ways of seeing and to see, instead, through the eyes of God. And what we will see and how we will see remains a mystery until we actually dare to try—until we put our own blindness completely into the healing hands of the one who says, “I am the light of the world,” and are then, at last declare, “Now I see!”
Now, may the peace of God which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Amen.
© Laura Gentry 2008
Sunday, February 24, 2008
SPRING OF LIVING WATER
A Sermon for the Third Sunday in Lent
February 24, 2002
Pastor Laura Gentry
John 4:5-42
So he came to a Samaritan city called Sychar, near the plot of ground that Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired out by his journey, was sitting by the well. It was about noon. A Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.” (His disciples had gone to the city to buy food.) The Samaritan woman said to him, “How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?” (Jews do not share things in common with Samaritans.) Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.” The woman said to him, “Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water? Are you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us the well, and with his sons and his flocks drank from it?” Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.” Jesus said to her, “Go, call your husband, and come back.” The woman answered him, “I have no husband.” Jesus said to her, “You are right in saying, ‘I have no husband’; for you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said is true!” The woman said to him, “Sir, I see that you are a prophet. Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, but you say that the place where people must worship is in Jerusalem.” Jesus said to her, “Woman, believe me, the hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for salvation is from the Jews. But the hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father seeks such as these to worship him. God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.” The woman said to him, “I know that Messiah is coming” (who is called Christ). “When he comes, he will proclaim all things to us.” Jesus said to her, “I am he, the one who is speaking to you.”
Just then his disciples came. They were astonished that he was speaking with a woman, but no one said, “What do you want?” or, “Why are you speaking with her?” Then the woman left her water jar and went back to the city. She said to the people, “Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he?” They left the city and were on their way to him. Meanwhile the disciples were urging him, “Rabbi, eat something.” But he said to them, “I have food to eat that you do not know about.” So the disciples said to one another, “Surely no one has brought him something to eat?” Jesus said to them, “My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to complete his work. Do you not say, ‘Four months more, then comes the harvest’? But I tell you, look around you, and see how the fields are ripe for harvesting. The reaper is already receiving wages and is gathering fruit for eternal life, so that sower and reaper may rejoice together. For here the saying holds true, ‘One sows and another reaps.’ I sent you to reap that for which you did not labor. Others have labored, and you have entered into their labor.” Many Samaritans from that city believed in him because of the woman’s testimony, “He told me everything I have ever done.” So when the Samaritans came to him, they asked him to stay with them; and he stayed there two days. And many more believed because of his word. They said to the woman, “It is no longer because of what you said that we believe, for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is truly the Savior of the world.”
Grace and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
Once, while I was an interim pastor at a church 70 miles from my home, out in the desert east of Los Angeles, I was contacted by a former member of the church who wanted to talk with me. She had moved another 50 miles south of the church but had some important things to tell me about the church I was serving and somehow convinced me to come down and visit her. I arrived there quite safely and we had a great visit. But she, trying to be helpful, told me about a great short cut I should take on my way back. Without a map in hand and with her rather flimsy directions in my head, I set out on the return voyage. After about and hour of driving on some twisty, empty roads where I didn’t see another car, I came to realize I had not gone a very good way. The sun was baking down on me in my Miata. The temperature was well over 110 degrees and the water bottle I had in the car was empty. I put the top up for shade but I was still severely dehydrated and in great danger. I really wanted to just pull over and wait for someone to help me but there were no other cars on this road and so I knew this was not a good option so I keep driving and driving. It was on this sojourn that I came to appreciate the vital necessity of water.
Needless to say, I eventually got back to the freeway and survived the ordeal and it was also the catalyst to make me spring for adding air conditioning to my car.
And the Middle Eastern desert climate in which Jesus lived, such dryness was a way of life. It was a place of chronic drought. People understood their desperate need for water in this desert environment and they didn’t have the option of getting their car air conditioned. One of the primary tasks of women was to go each day to the well, to draw water for the family. Many women had to walk miles to get to the nearest well, and so retrieving water consumed much of their day.
It is here, at the well, where Jesus encounters a Samaritan woman in our Gospel text for today. Now this is an extremely unlikely place for Jesus to be. He is a foreigner in Samaria, which is located in modern day Turkey. A proper Jew would not have even wandered through this country, but would have traveled around it. Instead, Jesus goes right on into it, and not only that, he goes to the well. This was traditionally a place reserved for women. Seeing Jesus there must have been shocking for the Samaritan woman—perhaps as shocking as a modern day woman finding a man sitting in the lounge of a ladies’ restroom! And to top it off, he begins a conversation with her. Again this was a great social taboo. Men and women who were not married to each other were not to engage in a conversation. This is still the case in some places of the Middle East. Earlier this month in Saudi Arabia, a married woman was having a conversation with a male colleage in the Starbucks of a government building and when authorities recognized that she was not related to the man she was sitting with, she was arrested and jailed. Imagine how much more shocking it was in Jesus’ day for him to engage a woman to whom he was not related in conversation?
And of course, there were religious taboos against a Samaritan and a Jew conversing. This was also forbidden. So here is Jesus breaking two major rules so that he can reach out to this person at the well.
Now it is easy to see how confused the woman was when Jesus just shows up and asks her for a drink. She asks, “How is it that you a Jewish man are asking me, a Samaritan women, to give you a drink?” Ignoring her question, Jesus introduces his metaphor of water. He says, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying it to you, you would have asked and been given living water.”
The confused woman, thinking he means fresh water—water which flows from a spring—replies something about Jacob's well not having any such water. Besides (and I always love this random aside) she notes that he has no bucket. Befuddled, she asks where Jesus could find “living water” in the desert.
Jesus continues with his spiritual imagery, saying: “Everyone who drinks of the water from this well will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty.” Still thinking literally, the woman says she'd certainly like to have some of that water because she is tired of her tedious daily trips to the well.
In saying this, Jesus is not talking about a literal spring in the desert, but he is identifying himself as that spring. Jesus himself is the gift from God, which gives life. He is the “water,” that can quench her spiritual thirst foreverr. So in this first part of their conversation, Jesus establishes that it is he who is the spring of life.
As the story continues, we discover that this woman of Samaria has a deep, deep spiritual thirst. Her life has been difficult. She has been married five times and each time, the marriage ended in divorce or the death of her spouse. We don’t know how these relationships ended but because of the cultural context, we can be sure that each divorce must have been devastating for her. Now she was living in an unmarried relationship—which was a very shameful situation in ancient Samaria.
In her conversation with Jesus, he reveals that he already knows about her marriage history, and she recognizes immediately, that he is a prophet. So, she seeks wisdom from him about which mountain is the proper place for worship: is it Mount Gerizim where the Samaritans worship, or is it Mount Zion in Jerusalem where the Jews worship? Jesus won’t get caught up in this on-going theological debate. He explains that neither is the exclusive place where God will be present in the future, but that true worship must be be done in “spirit and in truth.” Once Jesus is risen from the dead, all will see that he is the Messiah, and to be in his Spirit is to worship in spirit and in truth.
Now the woman is beginning to discover who Jesus is and what he is offering. Her spiritual thirst, which is even greater than her physical thirst, can be met in the life-giving spiritual water that only God can provide! She he known that the Messiah was coming, but now she realizes that Jesus is this Messiah.
Immediately, the woman abandons her water jar. She forsakes her purpose in coming to the well, for she has taken on a new, more important purpose. She runs off to tell the others about Christ. Her zealous evangelism causes many other Samaritans to believe in him also.
Then, along come Jesus’ disciples. They are clueless as to why Jesus is breaking all the rules to talk to this Samaritan woman. They urge him to get something to eat. Again, Jesus takes the element of a physical need—this time it is eating—and uses it as metaphor for spiritual need. Jesus tells them that the food he has that “they do not know about” is “to do the will of him who sent me and to complete his work.” (v. 34-35) This explains why Jesus has come through Samaria—in order to do God’s work, to share the good news with these people as well. Already, he has evangelized one woman who is currently out evangelizing herself! Doing the will of God both drives and sustains Jesus and it must drive and sustain the disciples as well.
And so in this gospel story, we learn quite a bit about Jesus. We see that Jesus is the Messiah and he bestows the “living water” of Holy Spirit, that he is the Son of God, and that he reveals the truth about God—that doing God’s will of proclaiming the good news is the very food with which is soul is nurtured.
As Jesus offered living water to the Samaritan woman, God offers refreshment for our spiritual thirsts as well. There are times when we in thirsty in spirit—more thirsty than I was on my dehydrating desert road trip. There are times when spiritual drought makes us especially desperate for the water that can give life to our spirits. These are the thirsty times when life seems empty, shallow and without purpose, and we just can’t find peace of mind.. I’m sure you know what it’s like to experience a deep dryness of the soul. The good new, my friends, is that Jesus offers us all that he offered the Samaritan woman. We can have it, too—that is, if we share with her a thirst for acceptance, forgiveness, love and healing for our parched lives.
The season of Lent is a time of attending atively to our deep spiritual thirst. Our Lenten disciplines aim to open the door for God's Spirit to become active in our lives. In our thirsty state, the Lord calls to us: “Come to his living water! Come to me, for I know you thirst for acceptance in a desert of rejection, that you thirst for forgiveness in the parched land of your sins, that you thirst for hope in the dry despair of your failures. While you were still sinners, I came to save you. Come to the living water!” For us, as for the Samaritan woman, there comes, into the drought of life, the life-giving water of Christ, the one who pours his love and grace into every crack and crevice of the dried and broken ground of our spirits.
And when we, in turn, come to him in hope of receiving this water, our Jesus not only gives us a drink, he offers us the whole spring of living water that can run deep inside each of us as an ever-refreshing source of life—life that will see us through all the hard times of drought and direct our wandering hearts back to God. And not only that, Jesus offers us food, the sustaining food of doing the will of God. May we come in hope and be filled. Amen.
Now, may the peace of God keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
© 2008 Laura E. Gentry
February 24, 2002
Pastor Laura Gentry
John 4:5-42
So he came to a Samaritan city called Sychar, near the plot of ground that Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired out by his journey, was sitting by the well. It was about noon. A Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.” (His disciples had gone to the city to buy food.) The Samaritan woman said to him, “How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?” (Jews do not share things in common with Samaritans.) Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.” The woman said to him, “Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water? Are you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us the well, and with his sons and his flocks drank from it?” Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.” Jesus said to her, “Go, call your husband, and come back.” The woman answered him, “I have no husband.” Jesus said to her, “You are right in saying, ‘I have no husband’; for you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said is true!” The woman said to him, “Sir, I see that you are a prophet. Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, but you say that the place where people must worship is in Jerusalem.” Jesus said to her, “Woman, believe me, the hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for salvation is from the Jews. But the hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father seeks such as these to worship him. God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.” The woman said to him, “I know that Messiah is coming” (who is called Christ). “When he comes, he will proclaim all things to us.” Jesus said to her, “I am he, the one who is speaking to you.”
Just then his disciples came. They were astonished that he was speaking with a woman, but no one said, “What do you want?” or, “Why are you speaking with her?” Then the woman left her water jar and went back to the city. She said to the people, “Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he?” They left the city and were on their way to him. Meanwhile the disciples were urging him, “Rabbi, eat something.” But he said to them, “I have food to eat that you do not know about.” So the disciples said to one another, “Surely no one has brought him something to eat?” Jesus said to them, “My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to complete his work. Do you not say, ‘Four months more, then comes the harvest’? But I tell you, look around you, and see how the fields are ripe for harvesting. The reaper is already receiving wages and is gathering fruit for eternal life, so that sower and reaper may rejoice together. For here the saying holds true, ‘One sows and another reaps.’ I sent you to reap that for which you did not labor. Others have labored, and you have entered into their labor.” Many Samaritans from that city believed in him because of the woman’s testimony, “He told me everything I have ever done.” So when the Samaritans came to him, they asked him to stay with them; and he stayed there two days. And many more believed because of his word. They said to the woman, “It is no longer because of what you said that we believe, for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is truly the Savior of the world.”
Grace and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
Once, while I was an interim pastor at a church 70 miles from my home, out in the desert east of Los Angeles, I was contacted by a former member of the church who wanted to talk with me. She had moved another 50 miles south of the church but had some important things to tell me about the church I was serving and somehow convinced me to come down and visit her. I arrived there quite safely and we had a great visit. But she, trying to be helpful, told me about a great short cut I should take on my way back. Without a map in hand and with her rather flimsy directions in my head, I set out on the return voyage. After about and hour of driving on some twisty, empty roads where I didn’t see another car, I came to realize I had not gone a very good way. The sun was baking down on me in my Miata. The temperature was well over 110 degrees and the water bottle I had in the car was empty. I put the top up for shade but I was still severely dehydrated and in great danger. I really wanted to just pull over and wait for someone to help me but there were no other cars on this road and so I knew this was not a good option so I keep driving and driving. It was on this sojourn that I came to appreciate the vital necessity of water.
Needless to say, I eventually got back to the freeway and survived the ordeal and it was also the catalyst to make me spring for adding air conditioning to my car.
And the Middle Eastern desert climate in which Jesus lived, such dryness was a way of life. It was a place of chronic drought. People understood their desperate need for water in this desert environment and they didn’t have the option of getting their car air conditioned. One of the primary tasks of women was to go each day to the well, to draw water for the family. Many women had to walk miles to get to the nearest well, and so retrieving water consumed much of their day.
It is here, at the well, where Jesus encounters a Samaritan woman in our Gospel text for today. Now this is an extremely unlikely place for Jesus to be. He is a foreigner in Samaria, which is located in modern day Turkey. A proper Jew would not have even wandered through this country, but would have traveled around it. Instead, Jesus goes right on into it, and not only that, he goes to the well. This was traditionally a place reserved for women. Seeing Jesus there must have been shocking for the Samaritan woman—perhaps as shocking as a modern day woman finding a man sitting in the lounge of a ladies’ restroom! And to top it off, he begins a conversation with her. Again this was a great social taboo. Men and women who were not married to each other were not to engage in a conversation. This is still the case in some places of the Middle East. Earlier this month in Saudi Arabia, a married woman was having a conversation with a male colleage in the Starbucks of a government building and when authorities recognized that she was not related to the man she was sitting with, she was arrested and jailed. Imagine how much more shocking it was in Jesus’ day for him to engage a woman to whom he was not related in conversation?
And of course, there were religious taboos against a Samaritan and a Jew conversing. This was also forbidden. So here is Jesus breaking two major rules so that he can reach out to this person at the well.
Now it is easy to see how confused the woman was when Jesus just shows up and asks her for a drink. She asks, “How is it that you a Jewish man are asking me, a Samaritan women, to give you a drink?” Ignoring her question, Jesus introduces his metaphor of water. He says, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying it to you, you would have asked and been given living water.”
The confused woman, thinking he means fresh water—water which flows from a spring—replies something about Jacob's well not having any such water. Besides (and I always love this random aside) she notes that he has no bucket. Befuddled, she asks where Jesus could find “living water” in the desert.
Jesus continues with his spiritual imagery, saying: “Everyone who drinks of the water from this well will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty.” Still thinking literally, the woman says she'd certainly like to have some of that water because she is tired of her tedious daily trips to the well.
In saying this, Jesus is not talking about a literal spring in the desert, but he is identifying himself as that spring. Jesus himself is the gift from God, which gives life. He is the “water,” that can quench her spiritual thirst foreverr. So in this first part of their conversation, Jesus establishes that it is he who is the spring of life.
As the story continues, we discover that this woman of Samaria has a deep, deep spiritual thirst. Her life has been difficult. She has been married five times and each time, the marriage ended in divorce or the death of her spouse. We don’t know how these relationships ended but because of the cultural context, we can be sure that each divorce must have been devastating for her. Now she was living in an unmarried relationship—which was a very shameful situation in ancient Samaria.
In her conversation with Jesus, he reveals that he already knows about her marriage history, and she recognizes immediately, that he is a prophet. So, she seeks wisdom from him about which mountain is the proper place for worship: is it Mount Gerizim where the Samaritans worship, or is it Mount Zion in Jerusalem where the Jews worship? Jesus won’t get caught up in this on-going theological debate. He explains that neither is the exclusive place where God will be present in the future, but that true worship must be be done in “spirit and in truth.” Once Jesus is risen from the dead, all will see that he is the Messiah, and to be in his Spirit is to worship in spirit and in truth.
Now the woman is beginning to discover who Jesus is and what he is offering. Her spiritual thirst, which is even greater than her physical thirst, can be met in the life-giving spiritual water that only God can provide! She he known that the Messiah was coming, but now she realizes that Jesus is this Messiah.
Immediately, the woman abandons her water jar. She forsakes her purpose in coming to the well, for she has taken on a new, more important purpose. She runs off to tell the others about Christ. Her zealous evangelism causes many other Samaritans to believe in him also.
Then, along come Jesus’ disciples. They are clueless as to why Jesus is breaking all the rules to talk to this Samaritan woman. They urge him to get something to eat. Again, Jesus takes the element of a physical need—this time it is eating—and uses it as metaphor for spiritual need. Jesus tells them that the food he has that “they do not know about” is “to do the will of him who sent me and to complete his work.” (v. 34-35) This explains why Jesus has come through Samaria—in order to do God’s work, to share the good news with these people as well. Already, he has evangelized one woman who is currently out evangelizing herself! Doing the will of God both drives and sustains Jesus and it must drive and sustain the disciples as well.
And so in this gospel story, we learn quite a bit about Jesus. We see that Jesus is the Messiah and he bestows the “living water” of Holy Spirit, that he is the Son of God, and that he reveals the truth about God—that doing God’s will of proclaiming the good news is the very food with which is soul is nurtured.
As Jesus offered living water to the Samaritan woman, God offers refreshment for our spiritual thirsts as well. There are times when we in thirsty in spirit—more thirsty than I was on my dehydrating desert road trip. There are times when spiritual drought makes us especially desperate for the water that can give life to our spirits. These are the thirsty times when life seems empty, shallow and without purpose, and we just can’t find peace of mind.. I’m sure you know what it’s like to experience a deep dryness of the soul. The good new, my friends, is that Jesus offers us all that he offered the Samaritan woman. We can have it, too—that is, if we share with her a thirst for acceptance, forgiveness, love and healing for our parched lives.
The season of Lent is a time of attending atively to our deep spiritual thirst. Our Lenten disciplines aim to open the door for God's Spirit to become active in our lives. In our thirsty state, the Lord calls to us: “Come to his living water! Come to me, for I know you thirst for acceptance in a desert of rejection, that you thirst for forgiveness in the parched land of your sins, that you thirst for hope in the dry despair of your failures. While you were still sinners, I came to save you. Come to the living water!” For us, as for the Samaritan woman, there comes, into the drought of life, the life-giving water of Christ, the one who pours his love and grace into every crack and crevice of the dried and broken ground of our spirits.
And when we, in turn, come to him in hope of receiving this water, our Jesus not only gives us a drink, he offers us the whole spring of living water that can run deep inside each of us as an ever-refreshing source of life—life that will see us through all the hard times of drought and direct our wandering hearts back to God. And not only that, Jesus offers us food, the sustaining food of doing the will of God. May we come in hope and be filled. Amen.
Now, may the peace of God keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
© 2008 Laura E. Gentry
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
BOASTING OF OUR SHIPWRECKS
A Sermon for
Ash Wednesday
February 6, 2008
Pastor Laura Gentry
II Corinthians
11:21-31
But whatever anyone dares to boast of—I am speaking as a fool—I also dare to boast of that.
Are they Hebrews? So am I. Are they Israelites? So am I. Are they descendants of Abraham? So am I. Are they ministers of Christ? I am talking like a madman—I am a better one: with far greater labors, far more imprisonments, with countless floggings, and often near death. Five times I have received from the Jews the forty lashes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods. Once I received a stoning. Three times I was shipwrecked; for a night and a day I was adrift at sea; on frequent journeys, in danger from rivers, danger from bandits, danger from my own people, danger from Gentiles, danger in the city, danger in the wilderness, danger at sea, danger from false brothers and sisters;in toil and hardship, through many a sleepless night, hungry and thirsty, often without food, cold and naked. And, besides other things, I am under daily pressure because of my anxiety for all the churches. Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is made to stumble, and I am not indignant? If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness. The God and Father of the Lord Jesus (blessed be he forever!) (NRSV)
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
Tonight marks the start of our Lenten season, you will soon be invited to come forward to receive the cross of ashes upon your forehead with those hard-hitting words “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.” We are dust.
For our second reading tonight, we heard the dramatic plea from Saint Paul written in Second Corinthians about boasting. Boasting, he says, is quite easy to do. He especially was one who could have boasted in his accomplishments. He had absolutely the right spiritual pedigree to proclaim himself righteous. He could have bragged and bragged about it.
But instead, Paul goes into a long list of his horrible moments. He tells us of his labors, his imprisonments, the countless floggings he’s endured, and his near death experiences. He brags of times he was beaten with rods, given lashings, stonings, and yes, even 3 shipwrecks. He emphasizes all the danger and trouble he’s been through—even nakedness! Ultimately, he’s making the point that he is weak. Both his own weakness and the weakness brought about by the cruel world have battered this man down.
He does not despair, however, he boasts. He boasts in his weaknesses and invites us to do the same. Yes, our weaknesses!
When have we had horrible moments? I doubt any of us can top Paul. Perhaps we’ve been through times, though, when just about everything went wrong. I am doubtful that any of us have been literally shipwrecked—let alone 3 times like Paul. But I’m sure we’ve had devastating situations that we might deem shipwrecks. Maybe we’ve had an illness, maybe a break up in an important and vital relationship, maybe financial hardship or a crisis of another kind. It’s a dreadful thing to have a shipwreck.
Yet Paul tells us that it’s okay to be broken and beat up by life. It’s okay to have been shipwrecked. In fact, it is these very shipwrecks that draw us near to God. It is only then, when we are at the bottom, that we can admit to ourselves that we are merely dust, heading for dust again. It is only then that we can confess our sinfulness. It is only then that we can truly grasp our deep need for God and begin to turn back towards our Creator, seeking redemption.
This Lent, we are invited to engage in an emphasis on prayer. Because we are shipwrecked souls, ash in need of redemption, we cry out to God.
But it is not simply our own doing. We pray because the Spirit woos us into prayer. The Spirit wants us to connect with God, to open our hearts and to pray. Martin Luther explained that our faith is always a result of the Spirit. In the catechism, he wrote:
I believe that I cannot by my own reason or strength believe in Jesus Christ my Lord or come to him, but the Holy Spirit calls me by the gospel, enlightens me with God’s gifts, makes me holy and keeps me in the true faith.
Because of the Spirit’s work within us, we thirst for God. Our hearts are restless and search for God. We know that we cannot live without the Grace of God holding onto us.
During these 40 days of Lent, we engage in an intentional repentance, an intentional turning to God for redemption. And prayer is a marvelous way for us to do this.
How much are you praying now? What are the obstacles in your life to prayer? For example, you are busy and can’t seem to fit prayer into your schedule or you pray at bedtime and fall asleep before you can pray very long. Maybe you just don’t feel equipped to pray because you have never learned much on the subject. Whatever our obstacles, Lent is a time to face them head-on. We can’t afford to let them stand in our way. These are our souls we’re talking about and they need to connect with God.
So what if we’ve failed along our journey? So what if we’ve made some poor choices and been hurtful? So what if we’ve been shipwrecked? We boast in these things because it opens us up, it invites God to stoop down and breathe life back into our broken and tattered selves. How much healing and life awaits us! How much joy and peace! Let us not neglect to take up our spiritual disciplines this season and to pray with all our hearts that we may be one with God. Amen.
Now, may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
© 2008 Laura E. Gentry
Sunday, February 3, 2008
WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS
A Sermon for the Transfiguration
February 3, 2008
Pastor Laura Gentry
Matthew 17:1-9
Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. Then Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Get up and do not be afraid.” And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone. As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, “Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.” (NRSV)
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
These days when you go to an internet movie discussion site, you often see the label “Warning: Contains Spoilers.” This means that the description of the film will give away the ending. So if you are planning to see the film and you don’t want to know what happens, then by all means, don’t read on. But sometimes, you want spoilers.
I remember some years back, I went to see a movie in the theatre with my husband. When the movie got to a tense and uncertain juncture, many of our fellow moviegoers were sobbing and sniffling. We could hear wet noses all around. William turned to me to see if I was alright. I admit it: I can sniffle with the best of them over a good drama. But this time, I was just fine. I wasn’t even a tad misty, much to his surprise. You see, a friend had already told me the spoiler so I knew that everything was going to be okay in the end—even though the movie’s plot was looking rather bleak. I could even handle the protagonist’s suffering.
Now today’s Gospel lesson really ought to have the warning label: “Contains Spoilers!” Because it gives us a glimpse at the resurrection—the end of the Jesus drama. The Transfiguration iis what I would call a spoiler, a divine ‘sneak preview’ to those disciples considered part of Jesus’ inner circle.
We know this story well. Jesus takes Peter, James and John up the mountain then then his face becomes radiant and his clothes a dazzling white. The images of Moses and Elijah appear in their midst and begin speaking with Jesus. Peter speaks up and mentions how it is good for them to be there and suggests creating three dwellings for the men. Immediately a cloud overtakes the men, from, which they hear a voice that informs the disciples that Jesus is God’s son and that the disciples are to listen to him. Shrinking in fear, the disciples fall with their faces to the ground. Moments later, Jesus bids them rise and the images of Elijah and Moses are gone. From there the four men descend the mountain and Jesus bids them not to speak of this incident to anyone until he has ascended to heaven.
The disciples have just received a preview, but what type of preview is it? The Transfiguration is another incident in which Jesus is arrayed as the Messiah, the anointed, the one sent to fulfill God’s plan of redemption for the world. The image of Jesus in heavenly splendor, his face radiant with the power of God and his clothes a remarkable white are precursors to the day of his ascension when, indeed, he will reside in heavenly splendor surrounded by the host of heaven. The images of Moses and Elijah are equally significant. Moses was set apart to present God’s law to the children of Israel. Moses himself had a transfiguring moment on top of Mt. Sinai when he spoke to God and received the tablets containing God’s law for Israel. Moses appears at the transfiguration representing the law of God, the Law that Jesus fulfills perfectly. The prophet Elijah appears as the greatest of the prophets signifying that Jesus fulfills the prophecies regarding the one to come. While Jesus is talking to with Moses and Elijah, presumably about the way in which he will make his transition to heaven, Peter enters in with his own talk.
Peter makes a suggestion that three dwellings be made for them. It is a suggestion that is virtually ignored by Jesus, but Matthew does not tell us why. Biblical scholars suggest that the dwellings that Peter might be referring to would be those maintained by the pagan religions of the day. Booths, shrines if you prefer, were placed in various places in, and around, Judea where people could go to make offerings to a particular god. Peter did not know how else to react to what he was witnessing. He sees a radiant Jesus accompanied by Moses and Elijah and his only response is, “we have to make this pay somehow, we have to make this last.” The suggestion to build three dwellings is Peter’s attempt at sustaining the glory of the transfiguration, as if he could contain the majesty portrayed in these three characters so people could come and make offerings on the mountaintop at will. In making this suggestion Peter was reducing Jesus to a pagan deity, hence Peter was ignored.
What we receive next is the resounding voice, presumably the voice of God, declaring that Jesus is the beloved son and we should pay him the attention. This voice comes deliberately because the mountaintop experience these men have observed is not going to last. The glory of the transfiguration is a preview of the future glory that we will all enjoy on the day of resurrection, but until then we must come down from the mountain and enter into the valley of death in the season of Lent.
We are heading towards Lent, a time to go inward, to really reflect upon our mortal condition, to focus upon the stuff we are made of—Lent is a time to make a solemn progression towards the cross of Christ, our cross. However, we know how the story ends. We know it doesn’t end with the cross of shame and death. We’ve seen the radiance of Jesus’ face, we’ve heard the voice of God—we can deal with Lent because we’ve already read the spoiler. It is precisely this preview of the ascended Jesus that gives us the strength to make it through the cross and beyond.
God did not have to provide this instance of the Transfiguration. God could have chosen to send us straight towards the cross with out any inclination of what lies in store. Even in light of the transfiguration, even in light of the glory of Easter we still see those who are hesitant—so caught up with the cross that they are stymied, unable to move for fear of suffering and death. Jesus has revealed just enough for us to know that although the way of the cross will be difficult, it will in no way be the end, but rather a door that we all must pass through before we are met on the other side, by Jesus. Even Jesus had to come down from the mountain. Transfigured as he was, in conversation with Moses and Elijah, glorified by God… even he had to enter into the suffering that was required to fulfill God’s plan of salvation.
Lent may not be our favorite liturgical season. We may not like the austere nature of Lent. The pains of our human condition may be disagreeable to our chosen interests, but remember this: each one of us goes into Lent with a preview of the coming attraction. God has not forsaken us. God has provided a beacon that will illumine the way ahead of us. It is the one preview that we find ourselves excited to see. We like what it has to offer us. May we enter into the season of Lent following Jesus' example of prayer and obedience. May we be transfigured by our acts of repentance and drawn closer to God than we’ve been in the past. Amen
Now, may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
© 2008 Laura E. Gentry
February 3, 2008
Pastor Laura Gentry
Matthew 17:1-9
Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. Then Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, “Get up and do not be afraid.” And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone. As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, “Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.” (NRSV)
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
These days when you go to an internet movie discussion site, you often see the label “Warning: Contains Spoilers.” This means that the description of the film will give away the ending. So if you are planning to see the film and you don’t want to know what happens, then by all means, don’t read on. But sometimes, you want spoilers.
I remember some years back, I went to see a movie in the theatre with my husband. When the movie got to a tense and uncertain juncture, many of our fellow moviegoers were sobbing and sniffling. We could hear wet noses all around. William turned to me to see if I was alright. I admit it: I can sniffle with the best of them over a good drama. But this time, I was just fine. I wasn’t even a tad misty, much to his surprise. You see, a friend had already told me the spoiler so I knew that everything was going to be okay in the end—even though the movie’s plot was looking rather bleak. I could even handle the protagonist’s suffering.
Now today’s Gospel lesson really ought to have the warning label: “Contains Spoilers!” Because it gives us a glimpse at the resurrection—the end of the Jesus drama. The Transfiguration iis what I would call a spoiler, a divine ‘sneak preview’ to those disciples considered part of Jesus’ inner circle.
We know this story well. Jesus takes Peter, James and John up the mountain then then his face becomes radiant and his clothes a dazzling white. The images of Moses and Elijah appear in their midst and begin speaking with Jesus. Peter speaks up and mentions how it is good for them to be there and suggests creating three dwellings for the men. Immediately a cloud overtakes the men, from, which they hear a voice that informs the disciples that Jesus is God’s son and that the disciples are to listen to him. Shrinking in fear, the disciples fall with their faces to the ground. Moments later, Jesus bids them rise and the images of Elijah and Moses are gone. From there the four men descend the mountain and Jesus bids them not to speak of this incident to anyone until he has ascended to heaven.
The disciples have just received a preview, but what type of preview is it? The Transfiguration is another incident in which Jesus is arrayed as the Messiah, the anointed, the one sent to fulfill God’s plan of redemption for the world. The image of Jesus in heavenly splendor, his face radiant with the power of God and his clothes a remarkable white are precursors to the day of his ascension when, indeed, he will reside in heavenly splendor surrounded by the host of heaven. The images of Moses and Elijah are equally significant. Moses was set apart to present God’s law to the children of Israel. Moses himself had a transfiguring moment on top of Mt. Sinai when he spoke to God and received the tablets containing God’s law for Israel. Moses appears at the transfiguration representing the law of God, the Law that Jesus fulfills perfectly. The prophet Elijah appears as the greatest of the prophets signifying that Jesus fulfills the prophecies regarding the one to come. While Jesus is talking to with Moses and Elijah, presumably about the way in which he will make his transition to heaven, Peter enters in with his own talk.
Peter makes a suggestion that three dwellings be made for them. It is a suggestion that is virtually ignored by Jesus, but Matthew does not tell us why. Biblical scholars suggest that the dwellings that Peter might be referring to would be those maintained by the pagan religions of the day. Booths, shrines if you prefer, were placed in various places in, and around, Judea where people could go to make offerings to a particular god. Peter did not know how else to react to what he was witnessing. He sees a radiant Jesus accompanied by Moses and Elijah and his only response is, “we have to make this pay somehow, we have to make this last.” The suggestion to build three dwellings is Peter’s attempt at sustaining the glory of the transfiguration, as if he could contain the majesty portrayed in these three characters so people could come and make offerings on the mountaintop at will. In making this suggestion Peter was reducing Jesus to a pagan deity, hence Peter was ignored.
What we receive next is the resounding voice, presumably the voice of God, declaring that Jesus is the beloved son and we should pay him the attention. This voice comes deliberately because the mountaintop experience these men have observed is not going to last. The glory of the transfiguration is a preview of the future glory that we will all enjoy on the day of resurrection, but until then we must come down from the mountain and enter into the valley of death in the season of Lent.
We are heading towards Lent, a time to go inward, to really reflect upon our mortal condition, to focus upon the stuff we are made of—Lent is a time to make a solemn progression towards the cross of Christ, our cross. However, we know how the story ends. We know it doesn’t end with the cross of shame and death. We’ve seen the radiance of Jesus’ face, we’ve heard the voice of God—we can deal with Lent because we’ve already read the spoiler. It is precisely this preview of the ascended Jesus that gives us the strength to make it through the cross and beyond.
God did not have to provide this instance of the Transfiguration. God could have chosen to send us straight towards the cross with out any inclination of what lies in store. Even in light of the transfiguration, even in light of the glory of Easter we still see those who are hesitant—so caught up with the cross that they are stymied, unable to move for fear of suffering and death. Jesus has revealed just enough for us to know that although the way of the cross will be difficult, it will in no way be the end, but rather a door that we all must pass through before we are met on the other side, by Jesus. Even Jesus had to come down from the mountain. Transfigured as he was, in conversation with Moses and Elijah, glorified by God… even he had to enter into the suffering that was required to fulfill God’s plan of salvation.
Lent may not be our favorite liturgical season. We may not like the austere nature of Lent. The pains of our human condition may be disagreeable to our chosen interests, but remember this: each one of us goes into Lent with a preview of the coming attraction. God has not forsaken us. God has provided a beacon that will illumine the way ahead of us. It is the one preview that we find ourselves excited to see. We like what it has to offer us. May we enter into the season of Lent following Jesus' example of prayer and obedience. May we be transfigured by our acts of repentance and drawn closer to God than we’ve been in the past. Amen
Now, may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
© 2008 Laura E. Gentry
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