What are You Going to Do?

Sermon preached Sunday, March 31, 2024, Resurrection of Our Lord, at Lutheran Church of Our Saviour in North Chesterfield, VA. 

Did you notice anything strange about the end of our Gospel reading? Anything strike you as odd in Mark’s account of the resurrection? I’ll help you out: Mary Magdalene, another Mary, and a woman named Salome go to the tomb to anoint Jesus’ body. Not only is the stone rolled away and the body gone, but an angel is there who tells them that Jesus has risen from the dead and that they need to go and tell the other disciples.

What do they do? Nothing! Hear it again: “So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” (Mark 16:8) They do nothing! They don’t follow the angel’s instructions, they don’t tell the disciples, they don’t tell anyone!

This is where the Gospel of Mark originally ended. You’ll notice if you look in most Bibles that the eleven verses that follow are usually bracketed off and set apart—they aren’t found in our earliest manuscripts. Most scholars agree that this book of the Bible originally ended right there, with the women not telling anyone anything because they were afraid.

It’s easy to understand why people would want to add more onto it. Fear and silence doesn’t make for a great ending. I mean, where does the story even go from there? People tried to explain it away and tried to fix the problem. But what does it mean that this is the end? What does it say to you? What does it say to us?

Imagine that you are a Jesus believer in those early days, early years, hearing this story. You’re sitting in someone’s house, gathered with other early believers being told and retold these accounts of Jesus’ life: his miracles, his teachings, his actions, and, of course, his death. You are invested and passionate and finally the story teller comes to the end and says, “…and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.”

Silence.

All of a sudden, there’s an unspoken challenge: they said nothing. They said nothing—what are you going to do? Are you going to tell the story? Are you going to proclaim that Christ has risen? Are you going to be brave and bold in your faith?

It’s a challenge for us, too.  What will we do with the news of the resurrection? Will we tell it to anyone who will listen? Or will we remain quiet?

There is, of course, a difference between the church almost two thousand years ago and the church today. Whereas they were persecuted and under threat and had the uphill battle of telling an incredible, mystifying, miraculous story to people and trying to get them to believe it, Christians today, at least in our current society, don’t have those same challenges.

If someone sees a cross somewhere, they probably know what it refers to. If someone says the name “Jesus of Nazareth,” people usually know the basic biography: born in a manger, died on a cross, rose from the dead. The story of Christianity, the story of Jesus is almost ubiquitous in our culture, even for people who have never stepped foot in a church.

The challenge Mark’s Gospel gives us, then, is a little different. Instead of simply telling the story to as many people as we can, we are called and compelled to proclaim why the story matters. Why it matters for us as individuals and for us collectively and for the world. It’s not enough to shout “He is risen!” We’re called to name how Christ’s resurrection affects and influences our lives and our world.

All of you are here this morning for a reason. Only you know what that reason is. For many of you, it’s simply because you are an active part of this congregation and worship is an integral part of congregational life. Some of you are here because you always go to church on Easter, even if you don’t come very often throughout the rest of the year. Some of you might be here because you just felt a pull, a tug, a calling that maybe you should give this church—or any church—a try, and this seemed like a good week for it. Or maybe you’re here for another reason all together. Nonetheless, you’re here.

And since you’re here, let me remind you that God has done, is doing, and will continue to do incredible things in your life. These acts are not always easy to spot. Oftentimes they are camouflaged through our friends or in tiny miracles of nature or in things we write off to dumb luck or cheerful happenstance…but if we look for it, we can see how God moves in and through our lives bringing hope and life and peace when we need it the most.

When you hear this challenge from Mark to share with the world the story of the Risen Christ and, in particular, the challenge to share why this story matters, think about those moments. Think about the times hope shone in the bleakest setting. Think about when a community came together to care for one another or to work against injustice. Think about the places where hungry people are fed and the oppressed are met with freedom. Think about when illnesses in bodies and minds and spirits are met with holistic healing.

Think about everything God has done and be brave. Be bold. Proclaim God’s saving action with everything you have.

It won’t always be easy. Sharing our faith can be quite scary at times.

We will face people who are incredulous. Those who can’t imagine believing in any God at all and find our faith misguided at best and dangerous at worst.

We will encounter other Christians who believe our faith is not genuine if we do not agree one hundred percent on every finer point of theology.

We will encounter people who have been hurt by the church and are wary of how we might hurt them as well.

These are all scary scenarios, and they’re not the only ones we might face! But the Gospel is bigger than that. The good news of the resurrection is bigger than that. We might be afraid because of the response we might receive from the world…but Easter is here and there’s not much we can do about it.

God has risen from the dead. The world is a different place. The kingdom of God is here and now. And it matters. It has an impact.

This is our story. It’s our calling to share it.

Alleluia! Christ is Risen!

Christ is Risen indeed! Alleluia!

Amen.

Thomas: A Realistic Model

Sermon preached Sunday, April 11, 2021, the Second Sunday of Easter, at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littlestown, PA. 

It’s no secret that most, if not all of the images we see advertisements are the result of Photoshop. It seems like every week or so there is some expose article floating around about this company’s Photoshop fail or that celebrity’s “untouched” picture being released. Someone is always doing something to make someone look better.

Sometimes it can be egregious, like making a woman’s waist impossibly tiny or putting arms at unnatural angles. Other times it’s pretty harmless. I can remember taking my senior pictures for high school and having them airbrushed to remove some pretty embarrassing acne. For good or for ill, these sorts of alterations happen.

And there is debate about just how good or ill they are. Some people say that all sorts of digital adjustments are fine in the media. After all, these companies are trying to sell something; they are presenting an ideal for everyday people to aspire to. The models aren’t supposed to look ordinary—it’s their job to be extraordinary!

The other camp argues that these representations can be dangerous. They keep people from having a reasonable perspective on their abilities or bodies. Companies should use models representative of the population, not a tiny minority. We should have realistic models.

When we are looking for models and examples for our spiritual lives, we often turn to scripture. Regardless of what camp you may belong to when it comes to our secular culture, when we look at the Bible, it seems we are given nothing but “realistic models.” In the Old Testament, there are stories like the time Abraham lied and passed his wife Sarah off as his sister, or when King David pursued Bathsheba despite her being another man’s wife. The New Testament isn’t all the much better. The disciples as a whole tend to misunderstand what Jesus tries to teach them. Judas hands Jesus over to the authorities and Peter denies that he ever even knew him.

And then we have today’s story about Thomas, who was called the Twin, but who we so often refer to as “The Doubter.” Thomas is one of the most realistic models we have. He doubts what he hasn’t seen for himself. The other disciples had all been able to witness Jesus’ resurrection for themselves when he appeared in the room. Thomas just wanted that same tangible sign.

We’re often the same. We have trouble believing in things we haven’t experienced for ourselves. When we are young, we learn about the five senses. We learn to explore things with our senses of sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch. We use those senses to decipher the world around us, to determine what is real and what isn’t. The trouble is, faith in God can’t rely only on those senses.

Our experiences with God come in lots of other ways. We may feel God’s love and presence in the relationships we have with other people. Or we may feel it in times of peace and tranquility. Or while experiencing and exploring nature. Or we may be overwhelmed by it during an exceptionally spiritual experience brought on through music, meditation, prayer, or worship.

But sometimes we, like Thomas, seek harder evidence. We look for those more concrete signs. We are hungry for things that we can point to and say, “There! There is God!”—because it’s hard to maintain faith without them. We can find ourselves, like Thomas, having doubts and struggling to believe.

And then, in today’s Gospel story Jesus proclaims, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” Those are kind of discouraging words, aren’t they? We can take them to mean that Thomas is somehow “less-than” for not trusting fully in the other disciples’ account. We may begin to see Thomas as a bad example, a bad model for us because he doubted. We may begin to equate doubting with not being a good Christian.

Jesus does say, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe…” The unspoken phrase that we tend to assume follows is, “Woe to those have to see to believe.” But that’s what Jesus intends. Jesus doesn’t speak words of woe to Thomas. He lifts up and blesses those who have faith in the resurrection without proof, but he does not condemn the doubters.

Thomas is not a bad example for us. Despite his doubts and concerns, he still boldly proclaims Jesus’ identity: “My Lord and my God!” He recognizes the fully divine nature of Christ. He remains with the other disciples as Jesus continues to perform miracles and teach. And then, like the others, after the ascension he is sent out into the world to proclaim the Gospel.

I’ll say it again: Thomas is not a bad example. Rather, he is a realistic model. Even though he has his time of uncertainty, he was still a faithful disciple. He still spread the word of God. God still worked through him. Though he doubted, Jesus still came to him. God can and does still work through all of us. Our loving Creator doesn’t abandon us, even when we aren’t so sure of it all.

And God has provided us with at least two visible and physical signs: our sacraments, baptism and Holy Communion. There are two parts that make up a sacrament: it is commanded by Christ and uses a material or earthly element. Through connection with the Word, is the bearer of God’s promise. The elements of water, wine and bread give us something physical through which we can experience God’s grace.

Through the water that washes us in baptism, we to die to sin and rise to new life in Christ, and we are also reminded that we are beloved children of God. Bread and wine, the body and blood of Christ in Communion, nourish and sustain us and are signs that point to the love of God shown in Christ’s death and resurrection.

Yes, doubts are real. They happen. We have periods of feeling disconnected from God. But the good news today and every day is that God is never disconnected from us. Sometimes we feel that divine presence strongly, other times it may be less noticeable, but God is there. In water, in bread and wine, in the Word, God has given us things we can see, taste, smell, hear and feel.

Our “realistic model,” Thomas, shows us that doubts do not keep us from God’s presence. They do not preclude us from seeing the signs and miraculous works God can do. They do not cause us to be shut out of the community of believers. Jesus came to Thomas and Jesus comes to us, embracing us in times of both faith and trust and in times of uncertainty and wavering belief.

Amen.

God Acts

Sermon preached Saturday, April 3, 2021, Vigil of Easter, at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littlestown, PA.

We’ve all heard a lot today. From the Easter Proclamation that began our worship in which we cried out “This is the night!” to the Resurrection account from the Gospel of John…we’ve heard all about God’s work throughout human history.

Frankly…I don’t think I have much to add. I think the texts, largely, can speak for themselves.

There’s a recurring theme in the readings. Over and over again, we heard about the ways in which God has acted.

We began at Creation—is there a better place to start? In the midst of chaos and a formless void, God calls forth light and life. Piece by piece, our world is created: land, sea, stars, animals, humanity, vegetation. God acts and life is created.

Next, we heard of the flood, when God, after coming close to giving up on creation completely, resolved to never again abandon humanity.

Then we heard one of the touchstone moments of our faith’s history. After years of slavery and hard labor in Egypt, God decides to work through Moses to free God’s people Israel. Moses has led the Israelite people out of Egypt, but before they can be fully free from Pharaoh’s grasp, they are faced with an sea they cannot cross. The Egyptian army is advancing and death and destruction seem imminent. But we have a God who acts. And this God who acts parts the sea and the Israelite’s walk through on dry land to safety.

Our reading from Isaiah has a different feeling. It is the prophet, Isaiah, proclaiming the words of God. These words, written for Israelites in exile from the promised land, have imperatives: Come! Buy! Drink! Eat! Even in exile, even in despair, God prepares a table for all with water, milk, and wine. Even in tragedy, God is acting to sustain and fill God’s people. And those last few verses? They sum it all up:

“¹⁰For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven,

          and do not return there until they have watered the earth,

          making it bring forth and sprout,

          giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,

  ¹¹so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;

          it shall not return to me empty,

          but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,

          and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.” (Isaiah 55:10-11)

God’s word does not return empty—it always accomplishes. God’s promises are not in vain—God acts and things happen.

The pinnacle of these texts, of course, is the story of the empty tomb. The whole life, death, and resurrection of Christ is a sign of who powerfully God acts. God acted and came to us in human flesh. God acted and performed miracles, welcomed the outcast, fed the hungry, forgave sins, and proclaimed the expansive love of God. God acted and was crucified by a humanity that would not welcome that expansive love. And—the best part—God acted and came back. The resurrection promises us that God can and will continue to act even after it seems like death has ended it all.

One of our first theologians, Paul, knew this and in his letter to the Romans reminded everyone that God’s action didn’t stop with the resurrection with Christ. God’s action goes on!

³Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?  ⁴Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.

⁵For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.  (Romans 6:3-5a)

God’s continuing action means that God continues to give us new life. We are forever joined to Christ in our baptism and there is nothing we can do about it. Our ever-loving God will never abandon us and will always be acting to bring about reconciliation in all of creation.

In the end, it goes back to the beginning. The beginning of creation, the beginning of our service. As I inscribed our new paschal candle, I said these words: “Christ, yesterday and today, the beginning and the ending. To Christ belongs all time and all the ages to Christ belongs glory and dominion now and forever.” Or, to put it another way on at this Easter Vigil, “Christ has died, Christ is Risen, Christ will come again.” Our words proclaim the power of God’s action, then and now.

Resurrection that happened then and resurrection that continues to happen over and over again. Alleluia! Christ is risen! God has acted!

Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

How Do We Know It’s Easter?

Sermon preached Sunday, April 12, 2020, Resurrection of Our Lord, from my home in Gettysburg, PA due to the COVID-19 Stay at Home order.

Alleluia! Christ is Risen!

I don’t know about you, but I am sooo glad to be celebrating Easter. There’s a meme going around right now that said, “This is the Lentiest Lent I ever Lented,” and I have to say I agree. Lent is already a time of introspection and some degree of somberness in our worship, but when we layered on top of it all of the anxiety and stress and isolation of this pandemic, it’s been especially muted.

But today, finally, we can say “Alleluia!” and rejoice and celebrate and remember the resurrection of our Lord!

It does look different, though, doesn’t it?

Another pastor asked the question: “How do we know it’s Easter?”

How do we know it’s Easter when none of the trappings we’re used to are here? We’re not in the sanctuary with flowers crowding the chancel and the organ playing those familiar Easter hymns and everyone dressed to the nines and eating our breakfast together in Karns Hall. I’m not wearing that heavy white and gold chasuble and welcoming you to the Lord’s table.

So how do we know it’s Easter?

Because the calendar says so? Because it’s the first Sunday after the first full moon after the Spring Equinox? (Did you know that’s how we decide when Easter is?)

Or do we know it’s Easter because it’s something we feel in our bones?

Yes, this Easter is different from those in the past. There are no large family gatherings. I mean, we might decide to get dressed up, or we might just move from our sleeping PJs to our lounging PJs. This is a much more casual celebration than many of us are used to—and that’s okay!

If we go back and look at the resurrection account from the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus is a little more casual, too!

Mary Magdalene and the other Mary arrive and the tomb and it’s a BIG EVENT. There’s an earthquake! There’s an angel descending from heaven and rolling back the stone! His appearance is like lightning and the guards at the tomb are so scared they shake and are paralyzed. WOW! Compared to this, our big blow-out Easter festival celebrations are nothing!

But after the women flee the tomb, Jesus meets them on the road. It’s simple. He says, “Greetings,” the Greek form of “Hey.” No earthquake. No descending from heaven. No blinding white clothes or lightning-like appearance. Just a simple, “hey,” and instructions to pass along to the rest of his friends and followers.

The women are afraid. The disciples are afraid. Everyone who loved Jesus is grieving and worried about whether or not the Romans or religious authorities will come for them next. They’ve gone into hiding. They are isolated and don’t know what the future holds.

But on this day, Jesus meets two of them and makes plans to meet the rest.

Because that’s the thing, we can certainly meet Christ and celebrate the resurrection with big worship services that blow the roof off…but we can just as certainly meet Christ when we are alone, when we are afraid, and when we are unsure of what lies ahead.

As you embrace an Easter unlike many you’ve probably had in the past, keep that in mind. We know it’s Easter by the presence of the Risen Christ, not by any other thing we’ve attached to the day.

Alleluia! Christ is Risen!

Happy Easter.

Amen.

Jesus is Still Risen

Sermon preached Sunday, April 21, 2019, Easter Sunday, at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littlestown, PA.

The two sermons that tend to give pastors the most anxiety are for Christmas Eve and Easter Sunday. It’s not that the texts themselves are particularly tricky or obscure—they are, in fact, the most well-known stories our faith has! But there is pressure because it’s a big, festival service when we try to pull out the stops and make everything as beautiful and meaningful as possible. …which means that most pastors, me included, feel like we’ve got to come up with something amazingly insightful and unique and special. We’ve got to wow for the people who are here most weeks and show off for anyone who might be visiting.

Truly, though, we should give ourselves a break. Yes, we want to preach well, we want the story of the resurrection to be proclaimed loudly and explicitly… but the good news about preaching on Easter is that, no matter what I say, no matter what happens during this service, even if everything falls Jesus is still resurrected.

Even if Carolyn, our organist, fell terribly ill and couldn’t make it, Jesus is still risen. Even if the flowers all died overnight, Jesus is still risen. Even if, somehow, we all showed up and were locked out of the sanctuary, Jesus is still risen. That is the reality and there is nothing we can do or fail to do to contradict that simple fact.

After all, that’s the story of Easter, the good news that we are here this morning to celebrate. Jesus is risen and any time we are faced with death, we know that God can bring life out of it.

I’m sure that most of, if not all of, you are aware of the fire at Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris on Monday. In what appears to be an accident, a fire sparked on the roof and spread, causing a great deal of damage. Emergency crews battled the flames for hours, and it looks at points as if the whole building might be lost. Faithful Parisians gathered outside and sang hymns as they waited to see whether or not Notre Dame would be spared.

Luckily, the fire was put out before the building was damaged beyond repair. It will be years before it will be open to visitors. But, in the rubble, the beauty of the space could still be seen in the cross, gleaming and golden on the altar, surrounded by piles of ash.

The fire caught the world’s attention, but it also highlighted a troubling string of church fires that occurred in Louisiana, beginning at the end of March. Three churches in St. Landry Parish were burned beyond repair, but under very different circumstances. Instead of being accidentally set off, these churches were victims of arson—a hate crime against these predominantly black congregations.

Sacred places burning. Sacred places turning from places of refuge to places of danger. Sacred places facing despair and desolation and, yes, even death.

In both cases, though, we can see renewal coming. Millions of dollars have already been pledged to restore Notre Dame. And the generosity seen there has inspired people to give to the St. Landry Parish congregations, as well, bringing in about $2 million to be split among the three churches in their own efforts to rebuild. The buildings will be renewed, but the real renewal is in the spirit of the faithful who worship in these places. One might expect these people to cut their losses and move on, or to give into despair…but they know God might still have work to do in those places.

The morning of the resurrection wasn’t what anyone expected, either. When the women came to the tomb, all they were expecting were the ashes and the burned-out shell, if you will. All they were expecting to find was the tortured body of their beloved teacher and messiah so that they could properly anoint him for burial. Instead, they encountered angels and an incredible story the other disciples didn’t believe. “He is not here but has risen!”

Even with all the prophetic words Jesus spoke about his death and how he would return, it is the unexpected outcome—and yet, it is the only outcome that could from God who first brought forth life out of chaos and came to be the Light of the World.

So, no, the story might not be new. It might not be fresh. I might not have anything terribly new or insightful or earthshaking to share with you this morning…but that’s not the point. We don’t need new. We need the old, constant story. Easter is here. Jesus is Risen. This is the foundation of our faith and thanks be to God that it just never changes.

Amen.

So What Are You Going To Do?

Sermon preached Sunday, April 1, 2018, the Resurrection of Our Lord, at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littlestown, PA. Audio can be found here.

Did you notice anything strange about the end of our Gospel reading? Anything strike you as odd in Mark’s account of the resurrection? I’ll help you out: Mary Magdalene, another Mary, and a woman named Salome go to the tomb to anoint Jesus’ body. Not only is the stone rolled away and the body gone, but an angel is there who tells them that Jesus has risen from the dead and that they need to go and tell the other disciples.

What do they do? Nothing! Hear it again: “So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” (Mark 16:8) They do nothing! They don’t follow the angel’s instructions, they don’t tell the disciples, they don’t tell anyone!

This is where the Gospel of Mark originally ended. You’ll notice if you look in most Bibles that the eleven verses that follow are usually bracketed off and set apart—they aren’t found in our earliest manuscripts. Most scholars agree that this book of the Bible ended right there, with the women not telling anyone anything because they were afraid.

It’s easy to understand why people would want to add more onto it. Fear and silence doesn’t make for a great ending. People tried to explain it away and tried to fix the problem. But what does it mean that this is the end? What does it say to you? What does it say to us?

Imagine that you are a Jesus believer hearing this story. You’re sitting in someone’s house, gathered with other early believers being told and retold these accounts of Jesus’ life: his miracles, his teachings, his actions, and, of course, his death. You are invested and passionate and finally the story teller comes to the end and says, “…and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” All of a sudden, there’s an unspoken challenge: they said nothing—what are you going to do? Are you going to tell the story? Are you going to proclaim that Christ has risen? Are you going to be brave and bold in your faith?

It’s not only a challenge issued to those early followers…it is given to us, as well. What will you do with the news of the resurrection? Will you tell it to anyone who will listen? Or will you remain quiet?

There is, of course, a difference between the church almost two thousand years ago and the church today. Whereas they were persecuted and under threat and had the uphill battle of telling an incredible, mystifying, miraculous story to people and trying to get them to believe it, Christians today, at least in our current society, don’t have those same challenges. If someone sees a cross somewhere, they probably know what it refers to. If someone says the name “Jesus of Nazareth,” people usually know the basic biography: born in a manger, died on a cross, rose from the dead. The story of Christianity, the story of Jesus is almost ubiquitous in our culture, even for people who have never stepped foot in a church.

The challenge Mark’s Gospel gives us, then, is a little different. Instead of simply telling the story to as many people as we can, we are called and compelled to proclaim why the story matters. It’s not enough to shout “He is risen!” We’re called to name how Christ’s resurrection affects and influences our lives and our world.

All of you are here this morning for a reason. Only you know what that reason is. For many of you, it’s simply because you are an active part of this congregation and worship is an integral part of congregational life. Some of you are here because you always go to church on Easter, even if you don’t come very often throughout the rest of the year. Some of you might be here because you just felt a pull, a tug, a calling that maybe you should give this church—or any church—a try and this seemed like a good week for it. Or maybe you’re here for another reason all together. Nonetheless, you’re here.

And since you’re here, let me remind you that God has done, is doing, and will continue to do incredible things in your life. These acts are not always easy to spot. Oftentimes they are camouflaged through our friends or in tiny miracles of nature or in things we write off to dumb luck or cheerful happenstance…but if we look for it, we can see how God moves in and through our lives bringing hope and life and peace when we need it the most.

When you hear this challenge from Mark to share with the world the story of the Risen Christ and, in particular, the challenge to share why this story matters, think about those moments. Think about everything God has done and be brave. Be bold. Proclaim God’s saving action with everything you have.

It won’t always be easy. Sharing our faith can be quite scary at times.

We will face people who are incredulous. Those who can’t imagine believing in any God at all and find our faith misguided at best and dangerous at worst.

We will encounter other Christians who believe our faith is not genuine if we do not agree one hundred percent on every finer point of theology.

We will encounter people who have been hurt by the church and are wary of how we might hurt them as well.

These are all scary scenarios, and they’re not the only ones we might face! But the Gospel is bigger than that. The good news of the resurrection is bigger than that. We might be afraid because of the response we might receive from the world…but Easter is here and there’s not much we can do about it.

God has risen from the dead. The world is a different place. The kingdom of God is here and now.

This is our story. It’s our calling to share it and to share how much it matters.

Alleluia! Christ is Risen!

Christ is Risen indeed! Alleluia!

Amen.