Earth Day 2025 C

 Earth Day 2025 

As we observe the 50^th Anniversary of Earth Day, we honor the passing of Pope Francis who warned that the outlook regarding the health of our natural environment is mixed at best, and leaning towards alarming. When an American Administration appoints an Oil Executive to the Department of Interior, an agency responsible, among other things, for the management of our National Parks and Federally managed timberland, it is natural to think that these lands, among our most precious resources, might be endangered in an effort to extract maximum profit from oil and gas drilling and timber harvesting. Indeed, there has already been an Executive Order to increase the timberland open to harvesting to be 112 million acres of the 193 million acres under federal control. That’s an increase from 35% of federally controlled timberland open to harvest to 58.8%. Some see this as potentially better forest management, while others see it as a grab for more profit in the American energy, timber, and lumber sectors. 

Other things such as more violent storm systems, more powerful hurricanes, more devastating wildfires and floods are at least in part the result of human degradation of the environment, principally by the over-use of fossil fuels causing land and ocean temperatures to continue to rise. The disappearance of large numbers of bees threatens our nation’s farm communities, which results in negative economic impact as well as a drop-off in crops heading to market, eventually causing food deserts, especially in poor neighborhoods and poor countries. Not to mention the inevitable loss of more and more farmland. 

Those who call upon us to be more responsible in managing the natural world that surrounds us and supports come from a variety of backgrounds. A powerful voice for the environment is an encyclical from Pope Francis in 2015 titled Laudato Si. It is the first such statement ever from a Pope in the history of the Church.  The Pope writes, “The universe unfolds in God, who fills it completely. Hence, there is a mystical meaning to be found in a leaf, in a mountain trail, in a dewdrop, in a poor person’s face. Standing awestruck before a mountain, we cannot separate this experience from God” (233). [i] It is fair to say that the recently departed Pope Francis was a poet, theologian, and mystic rolled into one compelling personality. In Laudato Si, Francis goes on to say that integral action must be taken on behalf of the environment of which we, all of us together, are a part.

 He writes that all impact on the environment and climate is intrinsically linked to our present day social, political, and economic problems, and cannot be addressed in isolation from them. “We are faced not with two separate crises, one environmental and the other social,” the Pope writes, “but rather with one complex crisis which is both social and environmental.” He concludes that we need “an integrated approach to combating poverty”, one which “protects nature” while at the same time “restoring dignity to the excluded” (139). [ii] 

For those of us who desire to follow in The Way of Jesus, Pope Francis’s linking environmental issues with social crises should come as no surprise. From beginning to end, the Bible describes, as Woody Guthrie expressed it, every spec of dust as Holy Ground, of which Moses is reminded while conversing with a bush on fire that is not consumed. [iii] And at the end of the Bible, the vision of the Revelation of St. John of Patmos depicts a renewed Earth as a garden city, with a crystal river flowing from the throne of God and The Lamb, Jesus Christ, with abundant trees of fruit, and “the leaves of the trees [are] for the healing of the nations.” [iv] We do well to note that when God chooses to reveal God’s self to Moses, it is from the midst of a bush. And when Jesus describes our relationship with him, he depicts us as a fruit on a vine; fruit nurtured with energies from the very root of the vine, which root is Jesus, God in Christ. He urges us to bear much fruit following his command to love one another as he loves us, even unto death on a Roman cross. He tells us that the health of the vine is vital for our joy in living here, upon this Earth, so far, the one place in the 14 billion light-years of the universe capable of sustaining human life. [v] 

Indeed, it is the fully human expression of God, Jesus, who makes the link between social justice and environmental sustainability Pope Francis writes about. Are we called, as those who desire to follow The Christ, to maximize profitability and production out of Earth’s resources? Or, are we called to conserve and sustain these resources of the fragile Earth, our island home, so that there is enough for all to know the kind of joy Jesus prays for us the night before his betrayal? He wants there to be joy for all people, all creatures, all living things, and the very planet itself. 

Earth Day is not some sort of invented “woke ideology.” Earth day means to redirect us, our minds and our efforts, to the very vision of stewardship of the Earth and of all who dwell on this most abundant and sustaining of all regions of the known universe as expressed in The Bible in chapter one of Genesis where we are created, male and female, each of us and all of us, to care for the creation God has gifted us. A vision that finds its final expression in the very last words of the last book of the Bible, urging us to see, to understand, there will be no joy until we respect the environment as a necessary condition for the healing of nations – the healing of all exploitation of the Earth which produces nothing but conflict, unhappiness, and poverty of mind, body, and spirit. 

Pope Francis read the texts correctly: The life of Jesus represents “an integrated approach to combating poverty”:  one which “protects nature” while at the same time “restoring dignity to the excluded.” He often warned, “There is a real danger that we will leave future generations only rubble, deserts and refuse.” 

To sum it up differently, continued exploitation of the natural environment offers only a passing moment of joy and profitability for a few corporations and their investors. To protect the natural environment, on the other hand, is to ensure a future for our children, for those who are excluded from such “profitability,” and for all future generations. In fact, the guarantee that there will be future generations at all can only result from how we protect the environment and restore dignity to the excluded. Jorge Mario Bergoglio, we thank you for your inspiration and faithful devotion to the Good News of Jesus. May your new and eternal life continue to challenge us to do the same, and may you rest in peace. Amen.

---

[i] https://www.vaticannews.va/en/pope/news/2025-04/laudato-si-pope-francis-death-environment-advocacy.html

[ii] Ibid

[iii] Exodus 3:1-6

[iv] Revelation 22: 1-5

[v] John 15:1-11

 

 

Easter 2025C Resurrection Must Be Hard Work

 

Easter 2025C    Resurrection Must Be Hard Work 

Alleluia! Christ is risen! The Lord is risen, indeed! Alleluia! 

As we left things on Friday, Joseph of Arimathea asked Pilate if he could take the body of Jesus to his newly hewn tomb for burial. Pilate replied, “Why on earth would you pay good money for a brand-new unused tomb here in prime real estate on the Mount of Olives and waste it on this poor wandering teacher and would-be king?” Joseph smiled and said, “It’s OK, it’s only for the weekend!”

Alleluia! Christ is risen! The Lord is risen, indeed! Alleluia! 

Friday evening began the Sabbath, a day of rest. Friday had been a hectic and tragic day for everyone, and everyone could use some rest. Evidently, most of all Jesus. But little did he or anyone suspect that he was not through yet. We talk and sing about his being in his “three-day prison,” but from Friday evening to Sunday morning is barely 36 hours. And I would hazard a guess that when Shabbat ended Saturday evening the hard work of resurrection had begun. God needed to get his only begotten Son back on the playing field. Jesus still had more to do.

Alleluia! Christ is risen! The Lord is risen, indeed! Alleluia! 

No one witnessed the actual resurrection. It was just God and Jesus in that new tomb. Maybe the two men dressed as if they were headed to South Beach for a night of Disco-Mania in their bright and flashy outfits helped with the rolling stone. The stone looks like a millstone that just rolls back and forth, not a massive boulder. Were they men? Were they angels? Will we ever know?

 Alleluia! Christ is risen! The Lord is risen, indeed! Alleluia! 

At any rate, one suspects resurrection is hard work. And even had one witnessed it, we can be sure trying to describe it would be hard work as well. Which would explain why none of the four canonical evangelists, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, even attempt to describe it. To imagine what it is like one needs to be a poet, like Marie Howe, one time Poet Laureate of New York who offers this description:

Easter

Two of the fingers on his right hand

had been broken

so when he poured back into that hand it surprised

him – it hurt him at first.

And the whole body was too small. Imagine

the sky trying to fit into a tunnel carved into a hill.

He came into it two ways:

From the outside, as we step into a pair of pants.

And from the center – suddenly all at once.

Then he felt himself awake in the dark alone. [i] 

Alleluia! Christ is risen! The Lord is risen, indeed! Alleluia! 

Sounds about right. The Love of God in Christ is like that. No small tunnel of a tomb carved into stone can contain it. It must have been surprising, amazing and astonishing, even to him! No doubt it was hard work. Harder even than spending an afternoon on a Roman Cross. He had repeatedly said it would happen. But even he who, as evangelist John points out is the source of all creation, even he cannot possibly know exactly how love’s attraction really works all of the time. To awaken in the dark, all alone. Alone after being with all that crowd that had followed him into the City of Peace, Jerusalem, City of Shalom, which had become in no time at all the City of Brutality and the Violence under the control of those who somehow believed Love could be hammered to death. Violins. Violence. Silence.

Alleluia! Christ is risen! The Lord is risen, indeed! Alleluia! 

By the time Mary Magdalene, her associate Joanna, and Mary the mother of James arrived with spices to make the appointed preparations for the body, the hard work of resurrection is done. The rolling stone has been rolled away. The body is gone. The two men in dazzling outfits announce, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you all of this three times.” The women are perplexed. Who wouldn’t be. They run off to tell The Eleven that the tomb is empty. Remember how he told us that he would rise again!  The men dismiss the women’s witness as an idle tale. “Women’s trinkets” it says in the Greek. Leave it to a group of men to look at the wrong end of a miracle every time.  

Alleluia! Christ is risen! The Lord is risen, indeed! Alleluia! 

Peter, the one who denied even knowing Jesus three times, runs out to see for himself. Indeed, the tomb is empty! The women were right! He goes home to sort it out. How could this have happened? The women were right! He had told us this would happen, but how could we imagine that it could really happen? Storyteller Luke seems to be asking: Are you going to be like the men who think it’s an idle tale? Or, will you believe like the women do?

Alleluia! Christ is risen! The Lord is risen, indeed! Alleluia! 

Imagine, just for a moment that we are there – as storyteller Luke means to take us there in the here and now. The last few days have been a whirlwind, and danger is lurking behind every stone of the city’s historic walls. We are the women, those first witnesses. What do we bring to the tomb? What do we expect to see? Are we perplexed like they are? Are we capable of being amazed like Peter? What do we bring to the tomb of the crucified One? What would we bring?

Alleluia! Christ is risen! The Lord is risen, indeed! Alleluia! 

Why, Easter Baskets, sillies! Easter Baskets with eggs, candies, toys, money, Mary Sue Easter Eggs, gift cards, and a partridge in a pear tree, and whatever else we can fit in there. Or, here’s what my dear friend and poet, Pamela Pruitt of Christ Church, Columbia, MD imagines what our basket might really hold: 

Easter Baskets

Each year

We try

To bring

Our Easter Baskets

To God

With all our

Accomplishments

Inside.

 

But,

They are

always

Empty

Because

One cannot Measure

Love

In a

Box.

 

God smiles

At us

Anyway.

Filling our baskets

Instead

With

the

Forgiving breath

That continues

To inspire

All our efforts. [ii] 

Alleluia! Christ is risen! The Lord is risen, indeed! Alleluia! 

One cannot measure love in a box! One cannot measure the love, and breath, and mercy, and forgiveness of God at all! The Forgiving breath that continues to inspire all our efforts. By the inspiration – the breathing in – of the Holy Spirit, all is gift. The gift is Love. Love that cannot be measured. It is love that reawakens us renewed, restored, always to begin again, and again, and again! All that we have, all that we are, is gift, freely given to us by a God of gracious Love! [iii]

Alleluia! Christ is risen! The Lord is risen, indeed! Alleluia! 

This is the heart of Resurrection Life – Like Christ, we can always begin again! This is the essence of the repentance to which Jesus calls us. He wants us to know that we are God’s Beloved. That God is well pleased with us. That we come from love, created in the image of God’s gracious, immeasurable Love. We will one day return to love. But for now we are created to be the love that is all around, here, there, and everywhere. This is the deep secret of all life throughout all the created universe.

Alleluia! Christ is risen! The Lord is risen, indeed! Alleluia! 

Jesus, with all the hard work of resurrection complete,

departs from his cold and now empty tomb

to be with us

and to call us to follow him

so that we might do something beautiful with our lives

and bear much fruit. 

Easter calls to us:

The world needs you,

the church needs you,

Jesus needs you. 

They need your light and your love.

Know, my sisters and brothers,

there is a hidden place in your heart where Jesus lives!

Let Jesus live in you.

Go forward with Him.

For in him and with him we are raised

to the New Life of His Kingdom!

Alleluia! Christ is Risen! The Lord is Risen indeed, Alleluia! 

Alleluia! Christ is Risen! The Lord is Risen indeed, Alleluia! 

Alleluia! Christ is Risen! The Lord is Risen indeed, Alleluia! 

And so are we! And so are we! 

Amen!

---

[i] Howe, Marie, The Kingdom of Ordinary Time (W.W.Norton, New York:2008) p. 24

[ii] Pamela Pruitt, Dec.15, 2021

[iii] Delio, Ilya, The Primacy of Love (Fortress Press, Minneapolis:2022) p.55

Good Friday 2025 The Wood of the Manger

 Good Friday 2025    The Wood of the Manger 

I think many of us can relate to the Psalmist who begins Psalm 69: 

“Save me, O God, for the waters have risen up to my neck.

I am sinking in deep mire, and there is no firm ground for my feet.

I have come into deep waters, and the torrent washes over me.” 

We’ve all been there. I recall being on Vinal Haven, an island off the coast of Maine, to play music at an outdoor festival. It had been raining for hours, and some folks who knew what I do when not playing music urged me to pray for the sun to emerge and the rain to stop. I scoured the Book of Common Prayer, but there are only prayers for rain in times of drought. Then I remembered Psalm 69. I took to the stage, which had a hastily built cover over it, addressed the crowd wearing garbage bags as ponchos and began to read Psalm 69. About the time I got to “For the Lord hears the needy and does not despise his own who are in bonds,” (I think I substituted “his own who are standing in the rain”), it happened. Just like in the movies. The clouds parted, a shaft of sunlight came streaming down, with gulls circling like doves of peace, the rain stopped and the show went on. 

We live in times in which the word “unprecedented” is simply getting worn out. New individuals and classes of people discover they need to live in fear of disappearing at any moment. Institutions of higher learning are being threatened by the Federal Government. And there are the everyday problems of friends nearing the end of life, friends or family diagnosed with cancer. There are endless parts of the world mired in warfare, others in starvation, and still others fighting epidemics of disease and death. And of course, actual massive wind and rain storms the likes of which have never been seen arriving with such sudden regularity. We feel as if all is sinking into deep mire. The ground is constantly shifting, no longer firm. And we cry out, “Enough is enough, Lord. Enough is enough!” 

As we read John’s account of The Passion, it is evident that Jesus, his disciples, Pilate, and even the Passover crowds in the streets are having such a really bad day that eventually ends up on the hard wood of the cross. We call it Good Friday, despite nothing about it seems particularly good. Until I was out running Maundy Thursday morning when a song came on my MP3 player that reminded me that indeed, the hard wood of the cross is the hard wood of the manger. Both cross and manger tell us that the very heart and core of the Good News of Jesus Christ the Son of God is that in a dark and overwhelming time in the life of God’s people, Jesus, the Word that is God, came to dwell among us as one of us from beginning to end. And of course, Good Friday is good because we know for certain that the hard wood of the cross is not the end of the story, but just the beginning of a new chapter for the whole world. 

The song, That’s The Mystery, suddenly feels apt for this day we call Good Friday. A word about its inception. While rector at St. Peter’s, Ellicott City, one Advent we decided to deliver, by hand, invitations into the mailboxes of people in the surrounding neighborhood, to stop by one evening to see the inside of our historic church, to meet us, join in some snacks and beverages, and perhaps decide to join us on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. As St. Peter’s has an historic Anglo-Catholic tradition, I thought I would light up some incense ahead of time to give the sanctuary a hint of what it might be like on Christmas. As I dropped a few grains of incense on the coals, the vapor began to rise, and a small voice behind me said, “That’s the mystery!” ‘I turned to see our youngest daughter Cerny, about three or four at the time, telling a friend what I was doing. The mystery became a song which essentially was my sermon that year. And seems appropriate somehow for this Good Friday. It goes like this….. 

A few grains of incense

Scattered on the coals

Smoke begins to rise

The little girl standing there

Opens wide her eyes

 

That’s the mystery, she says!

That’s the mystery!

That’s the mystery she says!

That’s the mystery!

 

See that star up in the sky

Shining on the place

Where the tiny child lies

Lighting up his face

 

Can you see the angels there

Up there in the light

Singing songs for all the world

Singing through the night

 

Hear those angels flying by

Calling out his name

Telling us He’ll change the world

Nothing will be the same

 

That’s the mystery she say

That’s the mystery!

 

Jesus lying in the manger

Listen to him cry

He already seems to know

That he was born to die

 

To die to hate

To die to greed

To die to power and sin

To die to everything that blocks

The God who lives within

 

Within our hearts

Within our souls

Within our minds and hands

The God who is Emmanuel

Breathes his Spirit through all the lands

 

That’s the mystery, she says!

That’s the mystery!

 

A child looks and sees the scene

Eats the bread and drinks the wine

Seems to know what all this means

For now and for all time

 

Can we see him

Can we hear him

Can he make us all his own

If he came down here right now

Would he recognize this as home

 

Whenever there are two or three

Gathered in my name

You’ll see the brokenhearted and the poor

The blind, the sick, the lame

 

Being welcomed, being served

Given dignity and love

Giving thanks for all good gifts

That come down from above

 

That’s the mystery, she says!

That’s the mystery

 

See the baby

See his mother

See the bread and wine

See the angels

See the stars

See that everything is fine

 

He lives in us

He gives us breath

He call us to be his own

He calls us to the manger stall

To make that place our home

 

Then he rises on the clouds

To wake us from our sleep

As we gather to see him one more time

In the darkness that is so deep

 

That’s the mystery, she says!

That’s the mystery!

 

The angels and the stars

The shepherds and the light

The incense and the bread and wine

All call us to this night

To enter deeper into the tale

Of how God came to Earth

To sing the mystery of love come down

The mystery of his birth

 

A few grains of incense

Scattered on the coals

Smoke begins to rise

The little girl standing there

Opens wide her eyes

 

That’s the mystery, she says!

That’s the mystery!

That’s the mystery, she says

That’s the mystery! 

The story we hear this day describes a few scenes of what was happening in Jerusalem just days after Jesus and his friends and supporters had entered the city. We may note, despite the kind of attention it gets in books, movies and tv shows, the actual crucifixion only takes up one brief sentence in John’s account: “There they crucified him, and with him two others, one on either side, with Jesus between them.” That’s it. No brutal details of hammers and nails to distract us. Just the rather matter of fact, metaphysical, bare-bones account.  He was crucified and left to die.  On to the next scene. It’s rather comforting in a way to know he had company on either side of him. At least he was not alone, as so many people seem to be these days.

Good Friday, therefore, means to remind us that Christmas is one of the reasons Good Friday is Good. Receiving a sentence of capital punishment and being executed all in one day does not stir up visions of sugar plums or anything else good in our little Christmas saturated heads. Good Friday is Good because of Christmas – because Jesus Christ the human being means that God entered our reality, allowing that we may, and even should, be human beings like him. Being created in God’s image carries some responsibilities after all, and being human like Jesus is as good a place to start as any. 

Just because it is Good Friday does not mean that we or the world are frozen in time and place. Christ has been raised from the dead. Resurrection and new life has already commenced in the midst of a tired old world with its wars and tumults of wars, famine, poverty, cancer, depression, hunger, and all manner of chaos and suffering. 

Incarnation, cross and resurrection become clear in their unity and in their differences. They make up a kind of mosaic of life in Christ – we cannot survive with just one dimension of God in Christ. We need all three at all times and in all places. As the World War II Martyr and theologian Deitrich Bonhoffer once observed: “Christian Life means being human by virtue of the Incarnation. It means being judged and pardoned by virtue of the cross, and it means to live a new life in the power of resurrection. None of these becomes real without the others.” [i] 

The hard wood of the manger is the hard wood of the cross. The Biblical story begins with a tree in a garden, and begins again on a tree outside of Jerusalem. Good Friday is good when we take the time to reflect on just where we stand in the midst of these three dimensions of life in Christ – Incarnation, Cross and Resurrection. That’s the mystery! Where we find ourselves and where we can see ourselves makes all the difference in the world and for the world. Even in times as chaotic and disruptive as was at noon on the Day of Preparation for the Passover; as chaotic and disruptive as it may be today as we prepare to celebrate the Resurrection of the one we call Lord, the Christ; we come to stand before his cross to prepare ourselves to be fully incorporated into the Lfe of Christ as the Body of Christ, here and now. 

The wood of the manger is the wood of the cross. That is what makes this day good. It is very good, indeed. Amen.

---

[i] Bonhoeffer, Dietrich, Meditations on the Cross (Westminster John Knox, Louisville:1996) p.78.

Maundy Thursday 2025 Remember

 Maundy Thursday 2025 Remember

“This day shall be a day of remembrance for you,” thus sayeth the Lord as he instituted the first Passover. [i] This is an apt description of Maundy Thursday as well: a day of remembrance. Remember means to bring back or keep information in your mind. We might say it is a kind of mindfulness to remember. 

In this year in which Passover and Holy week coincide, we do well to remember that first Passover which led to a remarkable new life for those Hebrew people, some 600,000 we are told, who had been slaves in Egypt for several generations. The Jewish people remember this each year, especially since the destruction of the Temple and Jerusalem in the year 70 as they have been largely living in diaspora – scattered throughout the nations of the world, without a homeland until 1948. The genius of Judaism is that almost all rituals are enacted with family gathered at a dinner table. No need for a temple or synagogue to celebrate this day of remembrance, the day of liberation from the yoke of the Empire of Pharaoh. 

It's important for us to remember the Passover and Exodus events for the result after forty years of formation in the wilderness, a people of God was forged, which people some 1,300 years later gave us the young man we know as Jesus, or as The Christ, God’s anointed Son. Every year his people gather at a dinner table and retell, re-member, the story that is the foundational story of who they are and whose they are. When times have been dark in the years since the diaspora, remembering this story of Passover serves as a reminder that God’s past faithfulness is a sign of God’s present faithfulness. 

Then there is the apostle Paul, formerly Saul of Tarsus, a Pharisee deployed by the Romans to root out the emerging community know as The Way – The Way of Jesus. Until one day on his way to Damascus he encountered the Risen Christ. And life was never the same again as he became an ambassador for Christ among the Gentiles. He became friends with the disciples who lived and worshipped daily at the Temple in Jerusalem. He convinced them that the Good News was too important not to share it with those beyond the Jewish followers of the Man from Galilee.

Writing to the emerging church in Corinth, he shares with them what the Lord and his disciples has shared with him: the institution of the Lord’s Supper we now call Holy Eucharist – Holy Thanksgiving. The night before his betrayal, Jesus took hold of the most basic elements and ritual of all Jewish life: the blessing of bread and wine at the Sabbath dinner table. A weekly reminder to pause life even at its most hectic, even at its most dangerous, and remember who we are and whose we are as we enjoy a day of rest. Only now the bread is to help us to remember Christ’s body, and the wine is to help us remember his blood. In so doing, we do this as a community of his people to remember him. And to remember who we are and whose we are: we are the Lord’s people. 

After several years living, teaching, healing, and feeding people throughout Galilee and Judea, Jesus blesses the bread, as he had every Sabbath evening, and he blesses the wine, as he had every Sabbath evening, and utters the poignant words, “Do this in remembrance of me.” Paul, in his letter to the church in Corinth is the first recorded memory of this mysterious transformation of the Sabbath meal. [ii] As I utter these words as we gather to give thanks, I still shudder to think he feared we would forget him and all that he had taught us about God’s faithfulness even in the darkest of times. That we might lose sight of the Good News: God has been faithful in the past and is faithful in the present, for we are God’s Beloved Community of Love. Paul is the first witness of our day of remembrance, Holy Communion, the Lord’s Supper: The bread and wine which are to sustain us in good times and in bad. A simple meal of remembrance. 

Perhaps this is why when John reports the evening of the Last Supper he records everything but the blessing of the bread and the wine. The central recollection of that night before the betrayal was Jesus washing people’s feet, followed by his issuing a commandment, a mandatum, “to love one another” as he has loved us. “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” [iii] One could easily lose sight of the Sabbath meal, the blessing of bread and wine, and its new and added significance for those of us who call ourselves by his title, The Christ. But who can ever forget the sight of Jesus stripping down, wrapping a towel around himself, filling a basin with water, and commences to get down on his hands and knees to wash people’s feet. That is usually the assigned chore for the youngest household servant or slave. Yet, here is the Son of God, God’s own Beloved, who “did not regard equality with God as something to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, assuming human likeness,” [iv] and washed feet. 

Peter is scandalized and refuses, until Jesus says, “I must do this, or you shall have no part in me.” Peter then asks to be bathed from head to foot. No doubt Jesus utters a long sigh. You have already been bathed, remember, in the baptism of John. This is different. This is for you to remember to love one another as I have loved you. This is a ritual reminder that we are to serve one another, now and always. And to remind us all that God my Father has been faithful in the past, is faithful in the present, and remains faithful forever. And ever. 

To remember. This night we call Maundy Thursday is a night to remember all the good things God has done for us throughout centuries and centuries all the way back to the first Passover, all the way back to the Last Supper of our Lord, and every day since. And so, we wash feet. And we bless bread and wine. And we seek new ways in which we can serve Christ in all persons, loving our neighbor as ourselves. The present time seems dark to some, hopeful to others. Either way, God is in the midst of it all. All the time. Psalm 116 calls us to say every day: 

10 How shall I repay the Lord for all the good things he has done for me?

11 I will lift up the cup of salvation and call upon the Name of the Lord.

12 I will fulfill my vows to the Lord in the presence of all his people. [v] 

By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, says Jesus, if you have love for one another. Amen.

[i] Exodus 12:1-14

[ii] 1 Corinthians 11:23-26

[iii] John 13: 1-17, 31b-35

[iv] Philippians 2:

[v] Psalm 116

Palm Sunday/Sunday of the Passion: Revolutionary Texts for Our Time 2025 C

Palm Sunday/Sunday of the Passion: Revolutionary Texts for Our Time

As we begin the octave of Holy Week, this Sunday is honestly overloaded with important texts with meaning for us today. I wish to focus on just a few things. Luke 19:29-47 helps us to see Palm Sunday in its full perspective. For if we were to continue the reading we are given, it becomes easier to see that this is no Triumphal Entry to Jerusalem the Church would like us to think it is. That is how the Church when it became The Empire of Rome some 200 years after the gospels would like us to believe. And cutting the story short supports such an interpretation. 

We were left wondering why the Pharisees begged Jesus to instruct his followers to tamp down the enthusiasm. Jesus responds, “If they were not to shout out, the very stones of the city ramparts would cry out!” That is, the brutality and injustice of the Empire, and the co-option of the Temple Priesthood is already painfully obvious. To get to Jerusalem from Galilee, one would have passed any number of crucifixions along the roadside meant to instill fear into one and all not to speak out against the authoritarian state. 

After this declaration, we are told that Jesus wept at the sight of the city as he descended down from the Mount of Olives with his followers cheering, and covering the roadway with the only garments they owned as all the wealth of Israel was consolidated among the few at the top of the “food chain.” Then once inside the city gates the very first thing Jesus does is to drive the merchants out of the Temple district, interrupting the Temple monopoly of the local economy. The merchants were for the most part selling unblemished animals for sacrifice to pilgrims from all over the ancient world who could not risk their own livestock becoming “unclean” for sacrifice. The money changers were a currency exchange, for monies to make offerings that did not carry the offensive image of Caesar and inscription, “Caesar is God.” They made I possible to pay the tithes and make offerings inside the Temple. Jesus attacks the heart of the Temple economy. This was a public demonstration against an unfair and unjust system of oppression. 

Conclusion: riding into the city on a donkey was political satire, mocking the triumphal entries of the Emperor, should he visit his vassal state, or the first in charge, Pontious Pilate, on white steeds, with armed military guard, incense to cover the offensive odors of the peasantry, flags, and all the trappings of the Military occupation. Jesus’s entry was a demonstration, followed by further prophetic protest of the injustices of life under the Boot of Rome. Note: Luke mentions no palms or other branches, but the people’s own clothing, perhaps to symbolize the sacrifices they were making to join Jesus in replacing the Empire of Brutality with a Kingdom of God. 

A few words about the Passion text itself. All four gospels describe the events of the week once Jesus was in the city. All four describe most of the same events, though some details are t adjusted – most often for the specific evangelist to make a point. What is not obvious to modern-day readers and listeners, much of the Passion stories is coded. It was dangerous to state the obvious, risking the texts to be considered subversive toward the Empire and thereby destroyed. 

It is especially important to recognize that Rome, like all Empires, would divide the conquered peoples against one another. To do so, you must create “an organ of liaison,” an official link between the colonial power and the local population. Which organ of liaison must be close to the heart of the subject people. Rome chose wisely in appointing the Temple Priesthood to fill that role. The Temple was the center of Israelite life, and was believed to be the center of the universe. Co-opting the priesthood to deliver orders accomplishes two goals of dominance: first, the people had already been trained to listen to everything the priests had to say; secondly, it undercuts the authority of the leadership of the Temple Priests themselves. This tactic was evident during the Holocaust as the Nazis would appoint a Jewish prisoner in each bunkhouse as a kapo, who would deliver the orders and punishments on behalf of the camp command. The stories of these brutal kapos were revealed after the camps were liberated by allied forces. These kapos, like the Temple Priesthood, were seen as collaborators. 

The story Luke tells, therefore, is coded in the sense that when the priests insist on Jesus being crucified, they do not represent Israel, they do not represent the people of the land. Their only allegiance is to Caesar’s Rome. The earliest readers and hearers of Luke’s Passion would know this. Similarly, they would know that Pilate, rather than having an ounce of reluctance about crucifying Jesus, would see the priests presenting Jesus as a threat to Rome because the people believed him to be a king as a joke. Pilate looks at Jesus and says, in effect, “This is the best you can do for a king? Some bumpkin from Galilee? You’ve got to be kidding.” He then sends Jesus to Herod so that Herod can see the joke for what it is, since Herod is also an organ of liaison in the region of Galilee, and happens to be in Jerusalem for Passover – the busiest most crowded week of the year with pilgrims from all over the ancient world. Herod plays along with Pilate’s joke and dresses Jesus in a kingly robe and sends him back to Pilate. They are toying with Jesus on one hand, which they know forces the Temple Priests to more stridently call for his execution. Both Herod and the priests know what side their bread is buttered on![i] 

Make no mistake, the “they” who take Jesus out to be crucified is Rome, not the Judeans. Only Pilate, only Rome can order this execution by the state. Thus, follows the public humiliation and torture of Jesus by the foot soldiers of Pilate and Caesar. Meanwhile, Jesus is still gathering lost souls of Israel as he promises another criminal on the cross nearby that he too will join Jesus in the life to come! It is even possible that he converts the Centurion who oversees his torture who says, “Certainly this man was innocent.” It is also possible, however, that the crowds may have understood that this Roman soldier is saying in effect, “Yes this man was observant of your god’s Torah, and this is what happens to all who do likewise! For only Caesar is God!” Jesus’s friends, Luke tells us, watch all of this from afar. 

Finally, we need to focus on the image of Jesus on the cross. For it is in this image that one can come to a deeper understanding of just who we are and who Jesus is. Clare of Assisi, one of the earliest people to follow St. Francis, urges us all to look at Christ on the Cross as if the crucified image is a mirror. “Gaze into this mirror every day” she writes to Agnes of Prague. “…and constantly see your own face reflected in it so that you may adorn your whole being, within and without…for in that mirror shine blessed poverty holy humility, love beyond words – by the grace of God.[ii]  This is so that the image of who we are reflects what we are; when our face expresses what fills the heart; then we become the image Christ, the image  of love incarnate – God’s agape love. [iii] This is who Christ calls us to be. 

There is something else to see in this crucified image. Years ago, I worked with teens living in seven group homes throughout four of New York City’s boroughs. These were young people who lived in dangerous homes, no home at all, were in trouble, lonely, with no one to care for them but an agency run by the Sisters of Charity. It was my privilege to be their chaplain for two years. We had much to learn from one another. One image I carry to this day was the realization that these youngsters, and people from all walks of life throughout the whole world, often live whole lives on the cross with Jesus. Jesus who said that as you care for these the least of my sisters and brothers, you care for me. As we gaze upon Christ on the Cross may we remember those war orphans in Gaza, the families who lost loved ones in Israel, the people living and dead in Ukraine and Russia, those starving or living with rampant diseases in Africa, political prisoners in El Salvador, young people in group homes and childcare agencies around the world, and all those living under authoritarian regimes like the one which crucified our Lord. 

The Passion of our Lord Jesus, the Christ, according to Luke 22:39 – 23:56. 

After the reading of the Passion we pray:

“Be faithful to the one to whom you are promised until death.

By him you will be crowned with the laurels of life.

For our labor is short, but the reward is eternal;

do not be confounded by the clamor of a world as fleeting as shadows.

Let not the empty specters of a deceitful world torment you.

Close your eyes to the whispers of hell and strongly resist its assaults…

With your whole being love God and Jesus his Son,

crucified for us sinners;

never let the memory of him slip from your mind;

always reflect the mystery of the cross

and the anguish of his Mother

standing firm beneath the cross.

Watch and pray always…

Let us pray to God for each other,

then in this way we will each bear the burden of the other

in love, easily fulfilling the law and love of Christ.” [iv]

Amen. 

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[i] Swanson, Richard W., Provoking the Gospel of Luke (Pilgrim Press, Cleveland: 2006) 134-138

[ii] Downing, Sr Frances Teresa, OSC, Saint Clare of Assisi Volume One: The Original Writings (Tau Publishing, Phoenix: 2012) “Fourth Letter to Agnes of Prague,” 85-87

[iii] Delio, Ilia, The Primacy of Love (Fortress Press, Minneapolis: 2022) 49-50

[iv] Ibid, Downing “Letter to Ermentrude of Bruges,” 101-107

Come and Join the Party Every Day! Lent 4C

 Come and Join the Party Every Day

Luke begins chapter 15: “All the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to Jesus. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, ‘This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.’ So Jesus told them this parable.” Actually, he tells them three parables: One about one out of 100 sheep is lost and found; one about one out of ten coins is lost and found; one about one out of two brothers is lost and found. Well, maybe that last one is not correct since it depends upon which of the two sons we think is lost. And that’s where things get complicated. Is it the parable of the Prodigal Son? Or, the Parable of Two Lost Sons? Or, the Parable Overly Indulgent Father? Or, The Father Who Lost His Two Sons? Or, as an answer to the Pharisees and Scribes it might be, Three Parables of Those Who Are Simply Lost, Not Sinners. 

From the outset we can agree it is much easier to find a lost sheep or coin than it is to find a lost person. Further, when a Jewish story begins, “There was a man who had two sons,” we are immediately expected to recall the history of such stories in The Bible: Cain and Abel; Ishmael and Isaac; Esau and Jacob; and now “a man with two unnamed sons.” The biblical literate amongst those listening to Jesus, especially the Pharisees and the Scribes, know that one is to identify with the younger son. One surprise in this third parable is that the younger son turns out to be an “irresponsible, self-indulgent, and probably indulged child, whom I would notdespite his being Jewish, be pleased to have my daughter date,” writes Amy Jill Levine in her book, Short Stories by Jesus. [i] We can only imagine just how much more the Pharisees and Scribes must grumble at this immediate deviation from the standard “two-sons story.” 

Although our primary attention is to be on the father with two sons, it should be noted that sheep and coins do not sin, they simply get lost. And sheep and coins are more easily found than people, since people can be right in front of us and still be lost. Arguably, both sons in the third story are lost: one discovers the hard way through his own self-indulgent appetites that in fact the grass is not greener elsewhere, and that there is no place like home. While the other brother, after years of watching his father overly indulge his younger brother, feels neglected for all the good he does, and alienated from pretty much everyone. Which may seem perfectly justified since once the profligate brother is given a royal welcome and a party, and that it seems pretty clear that no one, including the father, has invited the older brother to join in the celebration. He hears some carrying on and has to ask one of the family slaves, “What’s going on up at the house?” 

One gets the sense that the younger son is a repeat offender. After running through his inheritance, he ends up in Gentile territory feeding pigs. That, for a young Jewish man, is about as low as it goes. But we note how quickly he comes to his senses, and with apparent ease concocts a speech he will deliver when he gets home suggesting that he might at least return as a hired servant. He practices it all the way home. He has delivered such speeches before, but this time he really has come up with a good one with the new twist. 

Lo and behold! Before he can get even half-way through his speech his father comes running to greet him, throws his arms around him, kisses him, and orders the servants to get the best robe, the family signet ring, and the fatted calf to celebrate, “my son, who once was dead and now is alive again.” The story is so exciting and familiar that we no doubt overlook the resurrection language despite the fact it is repeated twice in the course of this story. Foreshadowing? Perhaps. 

We can imagine the younger son saying, to himself, “Wow! I didn’t even have to get to the best part of my speech, offering to be treated as a hired hand! I can save that for the next time!” Another clue is that he addresses his father as “father,” not Lord or Master. He did not really expect to be taken in as a hired hand. Is the father over-indulgent and going overboard? Or, is he just relieved and happy to have the family back together again? Or, is the family back together? Perhaps he just likes any excuse to have a party! And one should note, the son, unlike the sheep and the coin, was not lost. He walked away of his own volition. Coins cannot do this. Sheep could. The point being that people get lost, some on purpose, some not so on purpose. The older brother is a perfect example. 

When he finds out why there is a party going on, he refuses to join the party. It’s that no good, irresponsible brother of mine again. The father notices that the older brother is lost, missing from the party, and goes out to plead with him to join in. As a sign of just how fractured this family is, the brother starts, “Your son.” Not “my brother.” That says a lot, and is meant to hurt. In a somewhat self-righteous and somewhat justified rant, he catalogs just how everything he does for the father seems to be overlooked while the ne’er-do-well brother gets all the attention despite “devouring” the father’s property on “whores.” There’s no mention of prostitutes, but it sure could be possible that “dissolute living” might include such behavior. “Then the father said to him, 'Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.'" There’s that resurrection talk again. End of story. We never find out if the older brother comes around. Does the father apologize? Is the family made whole once again? Had it ever been whole, and safe, and sound? We are left to imagine how the story ends. Or, if it does. 

So, there’s a shepherd that leaves ninety-nine sheep to fend for themselves to find just one lost sheep, and throws a party. There’s a woman who finds one lost coin and probably spends two or three of her other eight coins to throw a block party. And a father who seems to reward bad behavior with a lavish welcome home party. Is Jesus suggesting to the Scribes and Pharisees: Do you have a problem with God my Father acting in such extravagant and foolish ways to accept all people to his endless eternal party? Can that possibly be a bad thing? Something to be grumble about? Wouldn’t you like to be celebrated in just such a way as the younger brother in this story of mine? 

Amy Jill Levine sums it up perfectly to my way of thinking:

“A father had two sons - Cain and Abel – and so we realize that to kill an individual is not only to kill a brother: it is to kill a quarter of the world’s population…Cain not only survives: he thrives. We may judge him as guilty, but he has a story to tell. Cain committed fratricide, but that is not the sum total of who he is. The mark of Cain is a mark of divine protection: if God can protect him, surely we can as well. Can we find it in our hearts to reconcile him to the human family? 

“A father had two sons – Ishmael and Issaac – if either is sacrificed then both are. Today some of the children of Isaac and Ishmael can find themselves at odds or at war, as the Middle East shows us. Yet, these two sons reunite at Abraham’s death, and together they bury him. Ishmael’s hand was to be against his brother’s, but Ishmael here proves the prediction wrong. If Ishmael and Issac can reconcile, perhaps their children can do the same. 

“A father had two sons – Jacob and Esau – one who stole birthright and blessing, and one who vowed to murder in revenge. And yet, when Jacob, wounded from his wrestling at the Jabbok River, encounters Esau, the two reconcile. 

a“A father has two sons … The details can be filled in, and filled by any among us. The scriptures of Israel give us hope for the sons in Luke’s parable. They should give us hope for our own reconciliations from personal to international. We need to take count not only of our blessings, but also of those in our families, and in our communities. And once we count, we need to act. Finding the lost, whether they are sheep, coins, or people, takes work. It also requires our efforts, and from those efforts there is potential for wholeness and joy!”  [ii]

Three stories of Hope for Wholeness and Joy. May we all find our way home, May we all find ways to welcome others to come home as well. 

“Hey hey, hey, come right away; Come and join the party every day!” [iii]

 

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[i] Levine, Amy Jill, Short Stories By Jesus (Harper One, New York, New York:2014) p.51

[ii] Ibid, p.75-76

[iii] The Grateful Dead, The Golden Road (to Unlimited Devotion) lyrics © Boyletown Music, Ice Nine Publishing Co Inc.

Under the Shadow of Your Wings Lent 3C

 Under the Shadow of Your Wings        Lent 3C

Here’s a case where chapters and verses in the Bible are arbitrary – added to the text to make it easier to study, but not always easy. As it stands, Luke 13:1-9 seems enigmatic at best until one is lucky enough to see it as a continuation of what was happening at the end of chapter 12 where Jesus, exhibiting a good deal of frustration, says, ‘You see a cloud rising in the west you know it’s going to rain, and when the wind shifts from the south you know there’s going to be scorching heat. So, why can’t you see what’s going on at the present time? And why can’t you judge for yourselves how to make things right? Why leave it up to a judge to decide? 

Which is to say, do the right thing to begin with and save yourselves a lot of unnecessary trouble. The right answer from anyone who has been paying attention to the young man from Galilee is that it is time to repent. Luke then offers two scenarios to illustrate that the time for repentance is always NOW! You may end up before the judge before you know it. Like that time a group of Jesus’s Galilean neighbors were in Jerusalem to make offerings at the Temple when out of nowhere, Pilate, the local governing Roman authority, slaughtered them right then and there, mingling their blood with that of the sacrifices. Those who were chided for not reading the times ask, “Were they worse sinners than all other Galileans?” “No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did. Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them--do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did." 

We easily jump to the wrong conclusion, and much Christian preaching has done just that ignoring the fact that people living in Galilee and in Jerusalem were not all Jews, but a mixture of Gentiles (non-Jews), Jews, and pagans of all sorts. This is not about recalcitrant Jews not accepting Jesus. This is about everyone. All of us, Luke’s readers, included. And it is important not miss that Jesus specifically says those who died were no worse sinners than the rest of us. They just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, and their deaths were not some cosmic, karmic, divine retribution or punishment. God my Father does not work that way. Yet, most assuredly we try to make ourselves believe otherwise so as not to look at what Jesus really says – they were no worse sinners that the rest of us. That is the rest of us are sinners, no better or worse than those who died. You never know when your time may come, and you will want to repent before that happens. 

One problem is to think that repentance is some sort of one-and-done ritual. That we can say we’re sorry and move on to the next ritualistic box to check. To repent, suggests Frederick Buechner in his little book, Wishful Thinking, is to come to one’s senses. It is not so much something we do, but rather something that happens to us. Buechner goes on to suggest that true repentance does less time looking at the past and saying, ‘I’m sorry,’ than to look to the future and say, ‘Wow!’ [i] The words in the Bible translated repentance mean either a total change of one’s mind, one’s worldview, or, to realize we have been walking in the wrong direction all along and need to turn and chart a new pathway home. Home being, of course, under those big, cozy, Mother Hen wings we have heard about. 

Psalm 63, which was the Psalm read at my ordination to the diaconate, reads in part, “For you have been my helper, and under the shadow of your wings I will rejoice.” [ii] Which tells us at least two things: true repentance is an ongoing, life changing experience, and that we need a someone to help us with our ongoing repentance, and that that helper most often is God. The same God who speaks to Moses out of the bush that was burning but not consumed. And we know that repentance need be ongoing because we keep walking back the same old way and pop out from under those wings-of-God, and need someone or something to send us back in the right direction. 

Jesus is talking to us. Not to individuals, but to those gathered to listen to him, including those who, like the disciples, have already formed a new community of God’s love in Christ. Communities and society are in constant need of repentance, which Buechner also addresses when speaking of ‘guilt’ as taking responsibility for wrongdoing. “Apart from the wrong we are each responsible for personally, in a sense no wrong is done anywhere which we are not all of us responsible collectively. With or without knowing it, either through what we have done or what we have failed to do, we have all helped create the kind of world mess that makes wrongdoing inevitable.” [iii] 

The danger of our guilt, he says, both individually and collectively is not so much that we don’t take it to heart, but that we take it to heart “overmuch” and try to hide it, where it festers in ways that even we don’t recognize. We blame others for the wrong we don’t want to see in ourselves, or in our community. We grow vindictive against those who try to help us see our wrongs as wrong. The resulting inner sense of brokenness often separates us from the very ones who could help us with our repentance and help patch us and the community back together again. We wither, like the fig tree, and become no longer capable of bearing fruit, let alone the good fruit of repentance. Fruit that shows we love God and love our neighbors as ourselves. 

Jesus introduces what may be a hopeful note when he talks about the fig tree that does not bear fruit. The owner of the garden tells the gardener, “For three years I have come looking for fruit, but there is none. Cut it down.” To which the gardener suggests tending to the tree, dress its roots with manure, and give it another year, and if it still bears no fruit, “you can cut it down.” The tree seems to get a reprieve. Perhaps there is still time to repent. Another year?  Maybe, maybe not. But note that the gardener does not say he will cut it down. He says, “You can cut it down.” Why didn’t it bear fruit? Had the gardener not been tending it properly the past three years? Did the owner have unrealistic expectations? Did the Tower of Siloam collapse because those who built it skirted getting the proper permits and cut corners? Did Pilate slaughter all those Galileans because of a bad dream? Or, perhaps indigestion from the night before? 

There we go. It starts all over again. The cycle of guilt. Looking outside ourselves for the answer. Hoping to blame others. What will it take to make us come to our senses and stop looking back at the past? Is there still time to change our minds? To change direction and actually follow the one who says to one and all, “Follow me”? Can we find ways to turn around and get back under the protective wings of God, that Mother Hen of us all? Are we ready to repent? 

“My soul clings to you, your right hand holds me fast,” sings the psalmist. “For you have been my helper, and under the shadow of your wings I will rejoice.”  Amen.

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[i] Buechner, Frederick, Wishful Thinking (Harper Collins, San Francisco;1973) p.79

[ii] Psalm 63:7

[iii] Ibid Buechner, p.34-35