Sermons
Reverence this earth. Look down at the dirt. Honor the soil. Let’s call a spiritual moratorium on stigmatizing dirt! But also look up this day to Jesus lifted high on the cross. A sure sign of spring and the world becoming new. Hear Jesus’ words to you this day: “And I, when I am lifted up, will draw all people to myself.”
Jesus turned the tables in the first place because they were set in such a way that actively discriminated against the poor and ritually unclean to the extent that there was no place for them at the table, and Jesus cannot abide so he overturns the table to communicate that the Lord’s table has a place intentionally prepared for each and every one of us. It was set with you and me in mind. In response we are not only called to be table flippers, but table setters as well, inviting all to God’s table of mercy.
We are called to take up the cross and expect that God is fully present in the suffering and brokenness of the world. We are called to take up the cross and be honest about our brokenness and demonstrate our willingness to enter into the brokenness of others. We are called to take up the cross because we follow the One who not only took up his cross, but also revealed that nothing in this world, not even the hate and darkness and death can defeat the love and light and life of God.
We can easily talk ourselves out of improbable divine things with some probable human things we would rather put our trust in. But, as we will soon see come Easter, death, evil, hatred, and darkness have already lost and we need not give them any more power because victory is ours, victory is ours through God who loves us.
Even in the wilderness, even in the pandemic when we are stuck at home and in the city, even what feels like an endless winter, God shows up. Angels minister to us and then we become messengers of mercy of others. It’s not exactly the trip you probably want right about now, but may God bless your Lenten journey. With the beasts. Where the wilds things are. The presence of Christ always with you.
Church gatherings may be canceled for a bit, but we can still be part of the restorative work of connecting with and loving one another so that no one need be isolated during this time of confusion, frustration and uncertainty.
God’s love for humanity is not canceled. God is not distant, but as close to you as your own breath; wiping away your tears, calming your fears, embracing you with a love that is stronger than death.
Let’s all together, virtually through Facebookland, take a deep breath…
Breathe in…Breathe out.
The Holy One is here, offering you the water of life.
God’s love is like a deep well, that never ever runs dry.
Doubt, fear, shame, questions, pulling back or taking space away – all of these are a normal part of our waxing and waning lives of faith. Sometimes, we, like Nicodemus, come to Jesus in the night. Whether literally or figuratively, we have all experienced a nighttime like this. But the night is a great time for conversations. The night led my friend Kate and I to deeper friendship. The night led Nicodemus to Jesus to ask questions that he might not have asked otherwise. And the night isn’t only a place of questions or doubt or fear. It is also a place of storytelling. The night holds creative power.
Welcome to your vision quest in the Lenten wilderness. Find some time alone. Find some time outside. Then find some time to be here in community. Here we will lament the worst of human nature, while celebrating that we are created in the image of God. Here we will face our mortality, name our losses, and grieve the ways human beings treat the earth and one another. Here we seek to worship God alone. Here God nourishes us with the word and the bread of life. When we reach Easter, we may emerge with a different version or ourselves, our true nature.
The internal wildernesses we dwell in must be named, must be shared, whether it is with a friend or family member, an anti-racism caucus, a licensed counselor or psychotherapist, or even here in this community of faith. People are suffering in their internal wildernesses, and because we don’t have safe and trustworthy spaces to share that suffering with others healthily, we transmit it to others in unhealthy ways. The wilderness can be a terrifying and tempting place, but together with God we can accompany through the wildernesses of our lives. And God knows the depths of our wildernesses. God in the person of Jesus Christ was led into the wilderness and was tempted. And because Jesus suffered in the wilderness, the wilderness can be redeemed.
When we say to one another to “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” We are offering an invitation into a honest, blessed life that does not embrace death, rejoice in it, or welcome it, but holds death with a holy reverence and deep ritual. Death in this way does not have to be disregarded, but honestly acknowledged as we hold up the truth that through reality death will we experience the promise of the resurrection. It is with this faithful conviction, that we do not have to fear death.
Today we remember that dust and ashes are Good News. They point us toward the power and love of God - both at the beginning and the end. They remind us that God is with us as we live between dust and dust, and that today and always, we are called to repent and return. Turn toward the one who created and keeps us in love's embrace.
