Reflections on liturgy from a millennial seminarian.
Read MorePondering the Mystery of the Trinity
A homily for the people of Holy Trinity Lutheran Church in Mercer Island Washington.
The text for the sermon is John 3:1-17 and the occasion is the Celebration of the Holy Trinity.
I’ll still be here next week, but this is my last Sunday in the pulpit here at Holy Trinity as your seminary student. I find it highly fitting that it is also the Celebration of the Holy Trinity.
Photo by tschitscherin/iStock / Getty Images
I love the Holy Trinity. I love the idea that God is more than any one way of describing God. I love the idea that God is constantly in conversation with Godself. I love the paradox. I love the mystery.
I love the Holy Trinity.
But trying to talk about it makes me feel a bit like I imagine Nicodemus felt in our gospel lesson.
Nicodemus is a leader, a teacher, an important person. People look to him for understanding and interpretation.
And here comes this teacher named Jesus who is doing “signs.” I bet people were coming to Nicodemus and asking him to explain Jesus’ signs and hoping for some understanding. And he didn’t know what to tell them.
So he goes and finds Jesus. He tells him that they, the whole community, know Jesus comes from God, for all those “signs” he has been doing can only be done through the power of God.
At this point it seems like he has some understanding, he is saying that he knows Jesus “comes from God.” But does he really get it? After all, he did come alone in the night, like he was ashamed and afraid of being seen bringing it up.
In response, we get a classic Jesus statement,
“Very truly I say to you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born anothen.”
Huh? anothen?
Anothen is translated in the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible, which I read earlier and is in your bulletin, as “from above.”
However, many of you probably grew up hearing this as “born again.”
The reality is anothen means both “from above” and “again” at the same time. We don’t really have a way to capture this in English. We tend to like words to have one clear meaning. The Greek anothen here carries both meanings all the time. So our translators grab one meaning for the simplicity of reading, relegating the other to the footnotes and we miss something.
Just as Nicodemus does. Nicodemus grabs on to the “do it again” meaning. Not only that, he goes for the most literal meaning possible. He starts thinking about literally being born again and talking about reentering the mother’s womb for a second birth.
He is not getting it.
Jesus tries to help him out. I think of Jesus’ response as,
“no, no, I meant the other meaning of anothen.”
He says,
“Very Truly I say to you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit.”
And Nicodemus still does not get it.
Did you notice that the previous two replies both start with “Very Truly I say to you”?
This third time Jesus interrupts this pattern and says
“Are you a teacher of Israel, and you do not understand these things?”
Jesus at this point is pretty annoyed with the state of religious education in Israel.
And Nicodemus still does not get it.
He is trying to be too literal. He is too stuck in what he thinks he knows already. He thinks he knows something because he is a learned man and knows something about signs and has seen the signs.
The signs Jesus was doing were not your run of the mill first century signs, which every teacher and prophet would do.
They were miraculous, marvelous signs. They were signs with meaning, which pointed to something greater than anything that had ever been seen or known.
And Nicodemus could not get it.
Do you ever feel like that?
I do.
When I think about trying to explain the Holy Trinity, I feel flustered and stymied.
I feel perplexed.
And I ponder.
I think that it is good to ponder.
This pondering reminds me that I do not know it all. It reminds me that I cannot know it all. It reminds me that I cannot put God in a box.
Maybe pondering can help us glimpse God, just a little bit.
Yesterday I was at a forum at Seattle University discussing interreligious dialogue. One of our presenters is a teacher at a Jesuit high school. He started out his time by doing something that I’m going to ask you to do with me now.
Sit comfortably.
Close your eyes.
Breathe deeply
And slowly.
As you breathe in, think “Spirit”
As you breathe out, think “Love”
In Spirit
Out Love
We feel the spirit moving through us. We feel the love of God moving through us.
We have a glimpse of God.
When we stand in this room, with these people, and gather around this bowl of water, we have a glimpse of God who claims us as beloved children and calls all things into being.
When we come to this table and eat of this bread and drink of this cup, we have a glimpse of God who comes into the world to die for the world.
Through the signs that are more than signs and words that are more than words, through the mystery of the Holy Trinity, we have a glimpse of God.
May we allow ourselves to sit in this mystery, to revel in it, to marvel at it, and to let it wash over us. May we allow ourselves the grace to not understand and to be okay with not understanding and to strive for not understanding. Perhaps in the not understanding we may find the true meaning.
Amen
Are we there yet? Are we ever? Being opened to the life of interpretation.
It’s already been 40 days since Easter. That means it’s already been 47 days since the quarter began. That also means we only have 22 days left in the quarter, not counting finals week. Twenty days from yesterday is the graduating student blessing.
Are you ready for it?
Are you ready to get out of here for the summer?
I know I’m antsy for it to be my turn to be blessed as a graduating student and to off into ministry. After all, this is the end of my fourth year. And I still have two years to go!
And some of you have been here longer than that. Some of you have longer to go.
Are y’all ready to graduate? To get out there and “do church”?
Read MoreHearing the voice of the Good Shepherd
In the midst of the cacophony surrounding us all of the time, what do we hear?
Do we hear the voice of the Good Shepherd, calling us into one flock?
Do we hear the voice of Grace and Love, love without end or condition?
Do we hear the voice of Jesus Christ?
Proclaiming the Foolishness of God
A homily for the people of Holy Trinity Lutheran Church in Mercer Island, WA.
The texts for the week are Exodus 20:1-17; Psalm 19; 1 Corinthians 1:18-25; John 2:13-22
Photo by strixcode/iStock / Getty Images
I don’t know about y’all, but when I think of a hero, John McClane, the character portrayed by Bruce Willis in the Die Hard movies, often pops into my head. He was usually reluctant to get involved, but he always rose to the occasion, challenged the ineffective bureaucracy–because it’s always ineffective in the movies–and saved the day, and the lives of the people in the building, or the airport, or the whole city of New York.
What comes to your mind when you think of a hero?
Perhaps Superman, Captain America, or Wonder Woman come to mind, championing truth, justice, and the American Way. Perhaps Spartacus comes to mind, leading a revolt of slaves in Rome. Maybe King David, rising up from obscurity to defeat the badest of the bad enemies and then unite the people into one kingdom.
Imagine for a moment that you had been waiting for a hero like these to rescue you. You had been waiting a really long time, your whole life even. No, not just your whole life; for generations you have been waiting. Your parents, and their parents, and their parents’ parents, and so on. All waiting and telling the story of the one who would come.
Now imagine that your friends started telling you about a person who was this hero. He was even related to that most awesome hero David. And instead of leading people in open revolt, bringing the oppressors to their knees, he goes around talking about peace and love and forgiveness and faith. And then he dies. On a cross.
The hero not only died on a cross, but the hero predicted and even allowed his death on a cross.
Is this what the great hero does?
Is this what the savior does?
To those of us steeped in two thousand years of Christian tradition it may not seem that bizarre. After all, we currently live in an era of the reluctant hero and the antihero dominating popular culture.
But to the ancient people? To the ancient Jews awaiting the coming of Messiah, could the Messiah be someone who would die on the cross? Would you call it foolishness? I probably would.
And yet this is the foolishness of God that Paul is talking about in his letter to the church in Corinth that we heard this morning.
Come into the world to save it, only to die? Foolishness!
Give yourself over to the enemies of the people to be killed? Foolishness!
Allow the temple to be destroyed? Foolishness!
Rebuild it in three days? Foolishness?
And yet this is the foolishness of God which is wiser than our greatest wisdom.
When, Jesus told the leaders of the faith that the temple would be destroyed and rebuilt in three days, it was clearly foolishness.
The temple took FORTY-SIX years to build!!!
FORTY-SIX YEARS
How can it be rebuilt in three days?
Sheer foolishness.
Photo by Charissa Ragsdale/iStock / Getty Images
However, the temple that Jesus spoke of is not the half-millennium old building in Jerusalem.
The temple is where the world and God are most connected. This is what Jesus is talking about. This connection occurs in Jesus' own body.
In the person of Jesus, God comes into the world and walks in the world. God connects directly to the world and makes a human body into a temple.
In the foolishness of God, we are most closely connected to God through a body.
In the foolishness of God, that body was killed at the hands of the world.
In the foolishness of God, that body is the temple that was rebuilt in three days.
In the foolishness of God, that temple remains active in the world through the eternal members of the Body of Christ, the Community of Saints that form Christ’s Church.
In this mystery, in this foolishness, in this wonder that is Christ Crucified, Christ lives on.
When we come to the font and gather around the waters of baptism, we are joined to all the Church that ever was, is now, and ever will be in the mystery of Christ Crucified.
When we come to this table together, we join with all the Church that ever was, is now, and ever will be in proclaiming the mystery of faith, in proclaiming Christ Crucified.
When we go out into the world, as the body of Christ, we proclaim Christ Crucified in the world.
We do not go out into the world to be clever and through our cleverness convince people. We do not go out into the world with appeals to reason, science, and philosophy to prove our belief. We do not go out into the world to chastise, shame, cajole, intimidate, or otherwise harm any member of God’s Creation in the name of Christ.
We go out into the world to proclaim Christ Crucified.
When we smile at a stranger on the street, we proclaim Christ Crucified. When we gather with friends and celebrate one another, we proclaim Christ Crucified. When we work to make the world a more just place, we proclaim Christ Crucified. When we stand with our neighbor, we proclaim Christ Crucified.
When we reflect the love of God that goes beyond all understanding in our daily life, we proclaim Christ Crucified.
Proclaiming Christ Crucified is how we live each and every day.
As we continue through our Lenten journey of reflection and contemplation; our walk through the wilderness that prepares us for living into the mystery of the Cross, I invite us all to consider how we proclaim Christ Crucified in everyday life.
How do we, as the arms and legs, hands and feet, of the body of Christ proclaim Christ Crucified in our life?
How do we live out the primary commandments of loving one another and loving our neighbors as ourselves?
If we live each day proclaiming Christ Crucified, spreading the love of God to all creation, we assist God in making the Kingdom of God real.
Now and always.
May the grace of God show us the way of life that proclaims Christ Crucified and the courage to walk in the way proclaiming Christ Crucified each and every day.
Amen
Thrown out into the Wilderness
A homily for the people of Holy Trinity Lutheran Church in Mercer Island, WA.
The primary text is Mark 1:9-15.
As homilies are primarily a spoken medium, I encourage listening to the audio recording.
When I was a kid, my brother and I would give up something for Lent, usually something food related. For me it would probably have been candy or sweets. At various times in my life I have stopped eating meat, or drinking coffee, or having dessert, or some combination thereof. Usually something I probably should have cut back on anyway.
For Joseph, my younger brother, it would often be caffeine related. I remember one year, when he was about 12, he decided to give up cola for Lent. This is also the year that I realized he was probably going to grow up to be an attorney.
This is because Lent is counted as the “forty days before Easter, not counting Sundays.” Joseph, future attorney that he was, really paid attention to the “not counting Sundays” bit and decided he could break his fast on Sundays and would have a Mountain Dew on Sunday afternoon.
Some of us may add a new devotional practice, or may give more to charity, or take on extra service projects, or this, or that.
And these are all great.
But they are not really the point.
Our reading from Mark today is a bit of a promise sandwich, with trials and temptation in the middle.
First we have God’s promise in Jesus’s baptism. Just as Jesus comes out of the water, the Spirit of God descends on him and he hears God claim him as God’s own and name him as Beloved. We see Jesus becoming bound to God in the promise conferred through baptism and being claimed as God’s own.
At the end of the reading from Mark, we have the announcement of God’s promise to creation becoming manifest. We see Jesus launching out in to his ministry of proclamation about the promise of God’s love and calling people to come into the Kingdom which is at hand.
In the middle of these two reminders of God’s promise we have verses twelve and thirteen
“And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.”
There is a lot of action in these two verses.
For starters, the word that is translated as “drove out” is a swift action of being thrown out.
Thus immediately after his baptism, the Holy Spirit threw Jesus out into the wilderness. This is not a gentle invitation to a safari or a day hike. This is a compulsion. Jesus is violently thrust out of his comfort zone and into the wilderness.
And in the wilderness, he spends FORTY DAYS being tempted by Satan.
Again this is not a gentle action.
This is not like being tempted by that extra piece of chocolate or another episode of House Of Cards before bed.
The word for tempting here goes way deeper than that.
It evokes a tormenting trial, being really put to the test. Jesus is having the screws put to him by Satan, the adversary of all that is good.
Jesus is sent forth into the wilderness and slammed up against his humanness.
And he comes back from the wilderness and immediately goes about proclaiming the Good News that the kingdom of God is at hand.
In order to begin his ministry, Jesus had to confront himself. He had to confront the reality of his mission on Earth; that he would die for the sake of the world on the cross. He had to meet the parts of himself that pull him away from that mission head on and overcome them.
And so do we.
In our baptism we are named as Beloved by God and claimed by the Holy Spirit, we are also marked by the cross of Christ forever. That mark compels us out into the world, announcing and bringing about the Kingdom of God.
But first we have to get ready.
These next forty-two days, including Sundays in this counting, are not some mere remembrance of Jesus’s walk in the wilderness. They are not a time for gently working on ourselves, for nice self-help and doing things we ought to be doing already.
This season is not about us at all, it is about God. It is about It is about preparing to heed the call of our baptism and live into the cross of Christ.
These next forty-two days, we are cast out into the wilderness to confront ourselves. This is a time to examine ourselves and come face to face with our own issues, behaviors, and demons that turn us away from God.
Thankfully we have help in this. When Jesus was in the desert, he was waited on by angels. In other words, Jesus was ministered to by the ones sent by God. They are not some ephemeral spirits in the wilderness to serve Jesus. They are very real beings sent by God to minister to Jesus and keep him whole while he confronted his temptations.
Just as Jesus had help, we have the entire community of saints, those sent by God into the world, throughout all time to help us through our examination and confrontation. Not only do we have help, but we are all sent by God to minister to each other along this Lenten journey of examination, contemplation, and repentance.
When we travel together into the wilderness, we become better prepared for responding to the promise of God made to us in our baptism and going out together with God and each other to proclaim to all the world the love of God.
As we traverse the wilderness of these forty-two days, may the grace of God keep our hearts and minds ever steadfast in the love of Christ Jesus our Brother.
May we come to the end of these six weeks, finding ourselves reoriented towards God and renewed in our calling as the beloved of God to make known to all the world that all the world is named beloved as well.
Amen and Amen