“What is to Prevent Us?”

Sermon preached Sunday, April 28, 2024, the Fifth Sunday of Easter at Lutheran Church of Our Saviour in North Chesterfield, VA. 

I love other people’s enthusiasm. I love how contagious it is. I love how all it takes is one person’s passionate response to something to get a whole group of people involved. Have you ever been to a meeting or a planning session where one person’s enthusiasm gets everybody worked up and the ideas are flying across the room and everyone is honestly, truly, excited about doing what needs to be done? I live for those moments.

Maybe it’s because I’m already a pretty enthusiastic person. If you haven’t noticed—and I’m sure you have—I talk with my hands. They’re almost always moving, especially when I’m passionate about something. I sometimes talk fast, as if there are so many words and ideas rolling around in my head that I almost can’t get them out fast enough. I laugh loudly. I use hyperbole liberally, noting that far too many things are “the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”

And maybe all of this is why I love the first story we heard this morning so much. Acts of the Apostles is full of stories about conversion and baptism, but this one I think is my favorite. This story about the Ethiopian eunuch stands out amidst the sermons, miracles and confrontations with authorities. If nothing else, this Ethiopian eunuch is enthusiastic—especially about his faith.

This man has a high power position with the Ethiopian royal court, even if his social status is still rather low. He is in charge of the entire treasury for the queen. He is trusted and is likely well compensated for his loyalty. And yet even with his lofty role, he takes the very long journey to Jerusalem. He goes to worship at the temple, even though, being a eunuch, he wouldn’t be considered a whole man and wouldn’t be able to fully participate in temple worship.

He reads the prophet Isaiah to himself, even though he struggles to understand it. He invites Phillip, a stranger on the road, up into his chariot to teach him. He sees a small bit of water and immediately wants to be baptized. He goes on his way rejoicing and proclaiming the good news of Jesus.

This Ethiopian’s enthusiasm can be best highlighted in the question he asks Phillip: “What is to prevent me from being baptized?”

What would our faith look like if we lived with such enthusiasm? What would it mean to operate out of a place of possibility and hope instead of doubt and pessimism. What might be the questions we would ask?

What is to prevent us from providing food for the hungry and shelter for the homeless?

What is to prevent us from offering equal opportunities to everyone, regardless of race, gender, creed, or any of the other labels we love to put on other human beings?

What is to prevent us from boldly proclaiming the freedom and abundant life we have in Jesus Christ?

These questions, and more questions. What is to prevent us from living our faith and not just talking about it on Sunday mornings?

What is to prevent us from being God’s presence in the world? What is to prevent us from being God’s hands?

I have a classmate from high school. His name is Dwight. We haven’t kept in touch much, but Facebook makes the world small. Nine years ago, he had been attempting to climb Mt. Everest. Let me remind you that nine years ago, in April of 2015, an earthquake hit Nepal…and it hit while he was on Mt. Everest. His expedition was safe, though an avalanche near them took out most of their base camp and ended eighteen lives. Instead of trying to get out of the country as quickly as possible, Dwight and some of his fellow climbers leapt into the rescue effort, helping as much as they could.

Dwight had the Silicon Valley money to afford a helicopter evacuation. He could buy his way onto a flight home. Instead, he asked himself, “What is to prevent me from doing what I can here?” Instead of taking that flight, he donated what it would have cost to the villages he could get to, started up a fundraising site for those same villages and stuck around for at least a month to lend his hands, feet, body and soul to the place he found himself in.

We might not have the financial resources that could allow us to do what Dwight did, but what is to prevent us from doing something when faced with a community in need? What is to prevent us from stepping up like the people we see or read about who accomplish remarkable things? What is to prevent us? Nothing. Nothing, because of what Jesus tells us in verses from the Gospel of John we heard this morning.

Jesus tells us, “I am the true vine.” Jesus is the vine, we are the branches. “…the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine.” We cannot bear fruit unless we abide in Christ—and when we abide in Christ, that is when some truly amazing things are done.

When we abide in God, we have the resources and sustenance to do the will of God. When we abide in God, we are grounded in prayer and discernment, and find ourselves asking what God wants of us, rather than what we want for ourselves.

The branches do nothing apart from God: they die, their ideas die, the momentum and enthusiasm dies the more it moves away from God and instead focuses on us. This is the reality of everything we do as church. When we focus on things that aren’t God, it just doesn’t work.

If our main goal and focus is to increase membership, or giving, or pay off our mortgage faster, or renovate a space, we will never succeed. Those goals are not us abiding in the vine. We will not have the patience, endurance, or energy to see them through.

But if our goal is to spread the Gospel of Christ, or to show God’s abundance love through word and deed, or to truly welcome the stranger (instead of seeing them as another warm body)—then we are abiding in the true vine. Then we can have true, lasting, renewal. Focusing on God’s mission may very well result in more people or more money, but it’s not the goal. Our eyes are on God—our lives are abiding in God and God has promised to abide in us.

When we remember our roots and ask what God is calling us to do instead of letting fear take over, real change and life and growth happens. Let’s ask the questions of hope instead of the questions of fear.

Instead of: How can we get more members?” Or “How can we be sure we do things the way they’ve always been done?” Or “How can we get more money?”

Let’s flip the script like the Ethiopian Eunuch and look for the new places God is taking us.

Let’s ask:

“What is to prevent us from abiding in God?” “What is to prevent us from discerning God’s will for this place and this people?” “What is to prevent us from doing something remarkable for the sake of the Gospel?”

What is to prevent us?

Nothing.

And Christ, the True Vine, will give us the life to do it.

Amen.

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.

Testimony

Sermon preached Sunday, December 10, 2023, the Third Sunday of Advent, at Lutheran Church of Our Saviour, in North Chesterfield, VA. 

It might seem like a bit of déjà vu this morning. It’s the second week in a row that we’re hearing from John the Baptist—just from a different Gospel. The message is generally the same: there is still the quotation from Isaiah about the voice crying out. But, in this morning’s reading, the focus is on John’s role as “the one who testifies,” and not just the one who cries out or the one who baptizes.

John, in this morning’s reading, is first and foremost a witness who testifies to the identity of Jesus and the power of God.

And John is not the only one to testify in this way.

Later, Jesus will have a conversation will a woman at a well and she will share her encounter with her town. The evangelist writes, “Many Samaritans from that city believed in him because of the woman’s testimony…” (4:39)

Jesus tells the disciples, “You search the scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; and it is they that testify on my behalf.” (5:39)

When Jesus enters Jerusalem on what we now call Palm Sunday, those who had witnessed him raise Lazarus from the dead were there as well and it is written, “So the crowd that had been with him when he called Lazarus out of the tomb and raised him from the dead continued to testify.” (12:17)

There are more examples. The Gospel of John is filled with person after person recognizing who Jesus is and then sharing that witness, telling others about who Jesus is and what Jesus has done.

They are testifying to God’s work of salvation, done in coming to live in our world, to die in our world, and finally to rise again among us. They are testifying that “God so loved the world that—“ Can you finish the sentence? It’s from the Gospel of John. “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” (3:16)

John the baptizer is questioned by the religious authorities because they aren’t sure he has the right to testify. They aren’t sure he has the right to speak about God in this way.

This Advent, I want you to think about your own testimony. If someone asked you to share your faith, what would you say?

Would you talk about baptism and how God has claimed you and promised to love and forgive you?

Would you talk about communion and how Christ has promised to meet us there and feed us with himself?

Would you talk about the hope of the resurrection and how you trust that God has the final word?

What would be your testimony?

It’s important to know what we might say, and it’s important to not be afraid to share our faith. We don’t need to stop people on the street and make them listen to us against their will. We don’t need to broadcast in some of the obvious ways that probably make many of us uncomfortable—but our faith is meant to be shared: in words, and in deeds.

We share our faith by recounting God’s acts in our lives. By showing compassion for others. By advocating for justice and mercy. By fighting for peace in a world bent on war and violence. As Christians, our testimony can take many shapes.

Ultimately, though, it’s Jesus’ own testimony that is critical.

Seven times, in the Gospel of John, Jesus says, “I am.” Think about that for a second. In our reading this morning, John is asked, “Who are you? Are you Elijah? Are you the prophet?” And he responds with, “I am not.”

While John is reminding people of who he is (a witness) and who he is not (the Messiah, Elijah or the prophet), Jesus declares, “I am.”

I am…what, exactly? What does Jesus say about himself?

“I AM the bread of life.” (John 6:48)

“I AM the light of the world” (John 8:12)

“I AM the door” (John 10:9)

“I AM the good shepherd” (John 10:11)

“I AM the resurrection and the life” (John 11:35)

“I AM the way, the truth, and the life” (John 14:6)

“I AM the true vine” (John 15:1)

Over and over again Jesus not only provides rich imagery for who he is and what his work will be, but he also asserts that he is.

This is not a far-off promise and some fuzzy, nebulous dream. Jesus is.

Jesus is present, Jesus is ready and Jesus has work to do—in the world and in each one of us.

And that work? That work of justice and peace and compassion and light? That work becomes our testimony. Through us, God continues to find ways to testify to who God is and what God does.

Testimonies of hope, grace, and love.

Amen.

How Will You Bear Witness?

Sermon preached Sunday, January 15, 2023, the Second Sunday after Epiphany, at Lutheran Church of Our Saviour in North Chesterfield, VA. 

A colleague posted on a clergy Facebook page, “Well, who’s got something new to say about John the Baptist?” If you’ve been in church through Advent and even up to last week, you know we’ve had quite a few Gospel lessons telling the story of John and his preparations for Jesus. It starts to feel a little repetitive, but luckily each portion of text we’ve read has had it’s own nuance.

Today’s account of John comes from the Gospel of John (incidentally, these are not the same man). Words mean a lot to this Gospel writer and he is particular about the words he chooses. Any miraculous deed Jesus does, for example, is called a “sign” and not a “miracle” because they only serve as signs that point to the power of God. So, in his telling of the story of John the Baptist or Baptizer…he never calls him that. John is not the baptizer…he is the witness.

What does a witness do? They testify. They testify to what they have seen and heard and know to be true. John’s testimony is what he declares as Jesus comes walking towards him: “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” The next day, he does the same thing! He sees Jesus and calls out, “Look, here is the Lamb of God!” His testimony is so compelling that even two of his own disciples begin to follow Jesus.

The idea of Christian witness, of our witness, is a complicated issue. What should our witness consist of? How should we share it? Who should we share it with? What are the best strategies? These are arguments and discussions that fill evangelism committee meetings around the world. The thing is, no one idea or style works in every culture or in every time period.

There used to be a time in this country when the most effective evangelism you could do would be to walk around the neighborhoods closest to the church and introduce yourself, maybe bring along some nice baked goods, and invite someone to your church. This just isn’t the case anymore. The drop-in culture that used to exist, when you might expect someone to stop by unexpectedly at any time has changed.

Nowadays, most people don’t appreciate an unanticipated visitor. They’d prefer to have time to pick up the house or get changed out of their sweats, or maybe they are just enjoying a day at home and don’t want to interact with other people. More and more folks don’t want to answer the door at all if they don’t know ahead of time that someone is coming by. You can see, then, why this door-to-door strategy just doesn’t work as well anymore. The well-meaning congregation members doing this work often come off as pushy or intrusive when before they would simply come off as friendly.

So, you’re probably asking, well, what then? What are we supposed to do? What strategies do work?

I wish I could give you a ten-point list of things to do that would get this church full and bursting. …but I can’t. No one can. Evangelism is an experimental process and the goal should not be more members for the church. The goal of evangelism should be that more people are able to experience the love of God. If that compels or encourages them to attend worship with us, great. But that’s not the purpose. And if we approach evangelism with a “butts and bucks” mentality, we will almost certainly fail.

People can sense when they are being used, when others aren’t being sincere with them. If we are just angling for warm bodies, we are missing the point entirely. We are sent out to proclaim the Gospel of Jesus simply so that others might know what a loving God we have—nothing more, nothing less.

All that being said, perhaps we need to look at Jesus’ own strategy in John’s gospel.

As Jesus is walking by John, John yells out that this is that Lamb of God. Curious, two of John’s disciples end up following Jesus. Eventually Jesus turns around sees them following him. He asks them, “What are you looking for?” They ignore his question and respond with, “Rabbi, where are you staying?” And what does he say in response? “Come and see.”

Come and see.

Such a simple phrase and yet it ends up being all these first disciples need. They came and saw and then later told others about their experience and those others also came and saw. Jesus’ first disciples came about as a chain reaction of coming and seeing and then witnessing to it all.

So, let’s expand on that. What might it look like for us to invite someone to come and see? What might be contained in that?

Of course, there’s the obvious answer: we might invite someone to church, to come and see what God is doing here, in this place, when we gather for worship. That, for some folks, can be a powerful way of witnessing. Maybe they are looking for a church home. Maybe they are searching for a worshipping community that they can enter into. For those folks, an invitation to worship might be just the thing!

For others, though, the worshipping body might not be the thing that helps them see God the most. If we invite them to come and see, where else could we invite them to see God at work? Where else might they encounter Jesus?

Maybe it’s in volunteering! Maybe you help out put together lunches for Richmond Friends of the Homeless and invite someone to help you out. Maybe there’s another organization you give your time to. Maybe you meet up on Saturday mornings with the men’s group or Esther Circle. Maybe you just want a friend to go shopping with you while you pick out food to bring in and donate or while you’re buying gifts for Christmas Mother. It could be as simple as that—doing something that you feel called to do in service to others and letting someone else bear witness to it.

Maybe, more than that, it’s just the way you live your life: the way others see you live your life. If someone were to “come and see” your day-to-day living, what would they see? Now, none of us are perfect and we all make mistakes, but what would the greater trend be? Compassion? Justice? Grace? Or selfishness, a me-first mentality, and a refusal to forgive?

In the calling of these first disciples in the Gospel of John, it is their experiences that lead them to Christ. They spent time with John and through that, heard his testimony about Jesus. Then, they went to Jesus and it was their encounter with him, staying with him that day, that led them to share their own testimony in turn. John’s preaching was one thing…but it wasn’t the only think that led people to Christ.

There’s a popular quote, often attributed to St. Francis of Assisi, maybe you’ve heard it before: “Preach the Gospel at all times—if necessary, use words.” Our words are powerful and, for some, they can be the doorway to a life of faith or deeper engagement. But, for others, our actions have a far greater impact.

Think about your own life, your own faith. What first brought you to church? Maybe your parents. Maybe a friend’s invitation. Maybe a sense you should come that was triggered when you drove by. Maybe something else entirely.

…but what is it that keeps you here? What is it that keeps you engaged with God? I’d be willing to be it isn’t someone else’s words. It isn’t just the recounting of stories in the Bible—it’s what God has done for you and what God is continuing to do in your life. You’ve felt the Holy Spirit moving and seen incredible things happen that can only come from God.

So, bear witness, my beloved siblings, in whatever way works for you. Live the story of God’s love in your words and in your deeds. Invite the world to “come and see.”

Amen.

What Happens When We Reject God?

Sermon preached Sunday, July 3, 2022, the Fourth Sunday after Pentecost, at Lutheran Church of Our Saviour in North Chesterfield, VA.

So here we are, another Sunday where Jesus makes some BOLD statements that we are left to wrestle with and figure out.

Last week, Jesus talked about leaving our family and not even taking the time to bury our dead. This time around, he talks about shaking his followers shaking the dust off their feet when they are not accepted. This time around he’s got this doozy of a one-liner: “Whoever listens to you listens to me, and whoever rejects you rejects me, and whoever rejects me rejects the one who sent me.”

I mean, Jesus doesn’t usually mince words. He is honest and forthright and doesn’t beat around the bush when he is trying to make a point. At the same time, we know that any one thing Jesus says isn’t the whole story. Jesus was doing his ministry, travelling, preaching, teaching, healing, for a while. It would be foolish to think that we have everything he ever said or taught recorded. And it would be equally foolish to take any one sentence or phrase and take it at face value without holding it up against what else he says and what else scripture as a whole tells us about God.

Because verses like this can be used as weapons—and they often are.

They are verses used to exclude or dismiss or devalue others and their experiences. After all, if someone has rejected us and, in turn, rejected God, then it doesn’t really matter how they feel or what they think. We can just dust our feet off and move on. Not only do we not need to care about their opinion, too often we feel like we don’t need to care about them at all.

But when we commit to looking at the whole picture, to being willing to hold things in tension and in context, it becomes much harder to abuse and misuse Jesus’ words.

In this case, Jesus says, “Whoever listens to you listens to me, and whoever rejects you rejects me, and whoever rejects me rejects the one who sent me.” And if we just isolate those words, yeah, that can feel pretty tough. It sounds final.

But what happens when we think about the stories in the Bible about all the times people rejected God?

Paul rejected Jesus. And not only rejected Jesus, but actively persecuted the people who chose to follow him after his resurrection. He was not looking to change, he was pretty content with his life.

Jonah was called by God to preach a prophetic word to the city of Nineveh to get them to repent. Not only did Jonah not go there to proclaim God’s message, but he got on a boat headed in the opposite direction and sought to get as far away as he possibly could.

And that doesn’t even touch on the whole people of Israel! God’s people continually reject God in the Bible. They build an idol to worship when they’re wandering in the desert. They ignore God’s call to care for the poor and vulnerable among them. They turn away from the prophets God sends.

And yet…we know that the stories don’t end with these rejections, do they?

Paul was living his life, in the words of Acts “breathing fire” against the disciples, when God decides to change things around. Paul has his vision of Jesus on the road to Damascus and, we know, the rest is history. He is met by Ananias and offered words of grace. God sets him on a new path.

In the case of Jonah, God calls up a storm on the sea as Jonah is fleeing and Jonah asks to be thrown overboard to attempt to escape God even more. He is swallowed by a big fish, yet God makes sure he is safe and whole and, eventually, spit up on land. God didn’t give up on Jonah and, in time, Jonah finally preached his prophetic words and the town of Nineveh immediately repented.

And there are God’s chosen people, the people of Israel. Set apart, they mess up over and over again, rejecting the gifts and love God offers them. It eventually leads to their exile…but even that isn’t the end. As we hear in this morning’s reading from Isaiah, they come back from exile and it is better than they could have imagined:

For thus says the Lord:
I will extend prosperity to her like a river,
and the wealth of the nations like an overflowing stream;
and you shall nurse and be carried on her arm,
and dandled on her knees.
¹³As a mother comforts her child,
so I will comfort you;
you shall be comforted in Jerusalem.[i]

And so, even as Jesus talks about rejection and wiping the dust off of feet, we hold the entire canon together to help us discern what is happening here.

We know, from what God has revealed in history and through scripture, that God doesn’t ever allow our rejection to be the end of the story. We want it to be. Holding grudges, stopping up our own ears, closing our eyes—we’re well versed in closing doors and burning bridges. We do it protect ourselves.

And I want to be careful here because there are some reasons—good reasons!—why we might need to set up boundaries or keep ourselves apart from someone else. In cases of abuse or unrepentant hurtful behavior, God doesn’t want us to continue being hurt. We don’t have to allow ourselves to remain in situations that are harmful or dangerous. It is more than okay to make sure we are safe.

Rather, this way of thinking reminds us that God may choose to surprise us in the future…and that God’s forgiveness and grace is always available even when we are unable ourselves to offer it. We don’t need to expose ourselves to harm for someone to experience God’s love.

When Jesus gives his instructions to the seventy, he tells them what to say and do, both in the communities that welcome them and in those that reject them. There was a commonality, though—did you catch it?

In both cases, Jesus advises them to tell the community, “the kingdom of God has come near.”

I find this really striking. The nearness of God’s reign is not dependent on whether the people are receiving or rejecting it.

This is a comforting thought to me. When I think of faith, I think of something that that ebbs and flows, shifts, and adjusts. It is something that can be so strong you feel like you can touch it, and so thin you are afraid it will blow away in the wind. I’ve experienced that gamut and I imagine you have, too.

And that’s why I find Jesus’ words so comforting. It reminds me that the kingdom of God, God’s reign, comes close even when I’m struggling. Even when I might be prone to reject what God is trying to do…God comes close anyway.

Because God always has more to say, more to offer, more to transform in our lives and never accepts our rejection as the final word.

Amen.

[i] Isaiah 66:12-13

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.