Month: April 2012

Easter 4, Year B, 2012

/ Sarah / Leave a comment

I am the Good Middle Manager.  The Good Middle Manager asks for reports on time.  The Consultant, who is not the Good Middle Manager, sees the buyout coming and leaves the employees and runs away and the corporation calls them in and fires them. The consultant runs away because a consultant does not care for the employees.

The Good Middle Manager doesn’t quite have the same ring as The Good Shepherd, does it?

The image of a shepherd is a romantic one.  We think of Heidi in the Swiss Alps, and those sentimental paintings of Jesus with a baby lamb in his arms.  While the life of a shepherd might be far removed from our experience, to the crowds that followed Jesus, the idea of someone being a shepherd would have been as familiar as someone being in management is to us.

And not only that, but Hebrew Scriptures are filled with shepherds.  Abraham was a shepherd, Jacob was a shepherd, Moses was a shepherd, and of course David was a shepherd.

What about being a shepherd makes a person so likely to get called into service by God?  Why does Jesus identify with this job?

Shepherds must be both responsible and courageous.  They must seek out good pasture in which their sheep can feed and they must diligently protect their flocks from wolves and other predators.

Unlike herding cattle, which can be done from behind, a shepherd leads from the front, calling out to her sheep, who know her voice and follow her.

Abraham, Moses, and David all ended up being called to rely on these skills when it was their turn to lead people.  Whether they felt prepared or not, each of them became responsible for leading God’s people to new places and new adventures.  And each of them had to defend God’s people against various dangers.

Jesus, of course, is more than just a shepherd of us, his followers, he is The Good Shepherd.  He is not a hired hand, who is going to run away.  He is not a Pharisee who has lost intimacy with God’s people.  He is not a consultant, who has professional distance.

Jesus is the Good Shepherd. Jesus loves his flock of followers and they followed them, and still follow him, by listening to his voice as it is handed down to us in the Gospels. For generations now, Christians have learned that by following Jesus, they are led into rich pastures.  Following Jesus leads to intimacy with God.   Following Jesus leads to lives rich with meaning.

Lately, I’ve been reading books about parenting.  This week I am reading a book called “Raising Happiness” by Christine Carter.  Dr. Carter has done a ton of research about what generates happiness.  She has carefully compiled this research and thought about how parents can use it to raise well adjusted, happy human beings.

Frankly, she could have titled her book, “Being Sheep:  How following The Good Shepherd can lead to a Lifetime of Happiness.”  She covers the importance of having deep social connections, practicing gratitude, letting go of perfectionism, learning how to ask for and give forgiveness, serving others, learning self control, even eating together!  If that doesn’t sound like life in Jesus’ sheepfold, I don’t know what does.

Dr. Carter describes behaviors that Christians who follow Jesus should be practicing whether we have read her book or not.  Our Shepherd leads us into community.  Our Shepherd acknowledges our imperfections and chooses to take the fall himself, teaching us about forgiveness. Our Shepherd shows us how God is at work in the world, teaching us gratitude.  Our Shepherd is a servant, teaching us to serve.  Our Shepherd gives us the Holy Spirit, empowering us to have self control. And, of course, Our Shepherd gives us the gift of the Eucharist, which we eat together every week.

The sheepfold is not a perfect place.  After all, it is filled with sheep.  But the sheepfold is this amazing crucible in which we sheep can practice all the things the Shepherd teaches us.  It is in the sheepfold, this very church, where we can practice asking for forgiveness when we have wronged someone; serve one another, practice gratitude for all God has given us; work on self control of our bodies and speech; and encounter that Good Shepherd as we gather together weekly to partake of his body and blood.

It is in this sheepfold that we try to follow our Shepherd together.  We may bump into each other occasionally, step on one another’s toes, get into each other’s patch of grass, but we are all trying to go in the same direction, listening for that voice so we can follow together.

Whether we are a rummage volunteer, Sunday School teacher, grounds beautifier, mission trip goer, St. Nick’s wreath maker, chorister, priest, sexton, usher, verger; we are all in the same flock, following the same Shepherd.

We are a few weeks away from moving into our summer rhythm at Trinity. This is a perfect time to take a few months and for all of us to listen to our Shepherd’s voice.  Where is our Shepherd leading us?  What new adventures are in store?

Whatever they are, we know we can trust our Good Shepherd to lead us safely on the journey.

Thanks be to God.

 

Easter Vigil, Year B, 2012

/ Sarah / Leave a comment

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.

Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome are grieving.  They are expecting their Jesus, the one they loved, to be in a tomb.  They are going to anoint his body and prepare him for a proper burial.  They are coming because they love him.  They are coming to do right by him.

But Jesus is not there.

The Gospel of Mark does not give us the resurrection we expect.  Jesus is just. . .gone.  There is no celebration.  There are no alleluias.

Jesus is on the loose.

This is, and this should be, terrifying to the women who have come to anoint him.

When a person is nailed to a cross, and pierced with a spear, when his blood flows out of his body, he ought to die.  The rules of physics and biology and logic demand death.

The women who loved Jesus expect death.

And Jesus experienced death.

But not for long.

From the beginning of Jesus’ ministry in the Gospel of Mark, God has been rewriting the rules.  At Jesus’ baptism, the very heavens tear open, the Holy Spirit descends, and the Father’s voice booms over the crowd, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with him I am well pleased.”

God the Father announces to the crowd, and to us, that everything about life as a human being is about to change.  God breaks into human history in a new way and reclaims us for his own.

Now, we tried to control that in-breaking.  We followed Jesus and listened to his stories, but as soon as Jesus got a little out of hand, as soon as Jesus began sharing his identity as the Son of God, we turned him over the authorities.

Those authorities helped us control the situation even further by killing Jesus.

But when God decides to reclaim his people, not even death can stop him.

So, Jesus is resurrected.  Jesus is on the loose.

The Gospel of Mark ends right there.

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.

The author leaves us in tension with this ending in which nothing is resolved.  Jesus is on the loose.  Mary and Mary and Salome are uncomfortable and so are we..

If you remember your Gospel of Mark, you’ll remember there is a long section that comes after this ending.  It’s marked in parentheses because scribes, uncomfortable with the original ending felt the need to tell the rest of the story.  They could not handle Jesus not wrapping up loose ends.  They wanted to pin Jesus down.  They wanted closure.

But there is no closure.

Jesus is on the loose.

We still try to pin Jesus down.  We set aside one day a week to worship him.  We celebrate his birthday in December.  We give him a week in the spring to remember his death and resurrection.  We say that his presence is kept in that tiny bronze box back there with the reserved sacrament.

But Jesus isn’t just in that box.  And Jesus doesn’t wait here in this church for you to come and worship him.

Jesus is on the loose.

Jesus is on the loose in your life.

Before Jesus’ death and resurrection, we were owned by sin and death.  They were our masters and we were forced to do their bidding.  But God defeated sin and death through Jesus’ resurrection and now we belong to God.

You may think you can control Jesus by setting aside Sunday to think about him and going back to your real life the rest of the week, but good luck with that.  The God who created the Universe is reclaiming you.  The God who saved Isaac is reclaiming you.  The God who parted the Red Sea is reclaiming you.  The God who enfleshed the dry bones is reclaiming you.  The God who broke through the heavens, and became a human being is reclaiming you. The God who defeated sin and death is reclaiming you.

Jesus is at loose in your life when you brush your teeth in the morning.  Jesus is at loose in your life when you write your Facebook status or balance your checkbook.  Jesus is at loose in your life when you commute to work, when your boss gives you a dressing down, when you turn on your television at night.  There is no moment in your life that is apart from Jesus and his Father who raised him from the dead.

Think about that for a moment and now tell me that the ending of the Gospel of Mark doesn’t just about sum up your reaction.

Terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.

The author of the Gospel of Mark gives us a little clue about this mysterious resurrected Jesus to calm our anxiety.  The heavenly messenger at the empty tomb tells the women,

. . .Go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.”

Why Galilee?

If you turn to the first chapter of the Gospel of Mark, you’ll see that Jesus first arrives on the scene in Galilee.  Mark is pointing us back to the beginning of his Gospel.  The resurrected Jesus is the same Jesus that taught and healed and exorcised demons.  The Jesus that is on the loose in your lives is not some zombie, not some spiritual Santa Claus, spying on you in judgment. He is the Jesus who loved men, women, and children; brought wholeness out of brokenness; and spoke truth to power.  He is the Jesus who loved Peter, even through Peter’s betrayal.  He is the Jesus who loved us so much that he wanted to identify fully with our human experience and was willing to die so we no longer have to.

This is the Jesus who is on the loose, loving us, healing us and bringing us eternal life.

And for that we can heartily say,

Alleluia, Christ is risen!

Palm Sunday, Year B, 2012

/ Sarah / Leave a comment

Listen to the sermon here.

 

In the room, she pours the nard over Jesus’ head, slowly.  It drips down his neck and soaks his tunic, some catches in his beard, reflects the light of the candles in the room.  Jesus can feel it soaking into his skin, feels it slippery between his fingers.

 

Later, Judas nervously walks, tap-tap-tapping his fingers in his empty pocket.  Breathing heavily, unable to shake the smell out of his nose.

 

In the room, she touches Jesus’ head.  She lays her hands on the healer, on the demon-chaser, on the resurrector of Lazarus.  She feels his curls, sees his cowlick, traces his part with her fingers.

 

Later, Judas in the dark, in the cold, sees the door.  He reaches out, feels its heft, waits for a moment. Breathes.

 

In the room, she ignores the murmurs.  She knows what she is doing.  For a year she’s been saving.  Her coins hidden in jars in the kitchen, under her mattress, buried in the garden.

 

Later, outside that door, Judas remembers.  Remembers having a job, having money in his pocket.  Remembers how easy it was to buy what he needed.  Remembers being respected, having prospects.  Remembers giving it all up, remembers the sacrifice, remembers following,.

 

In the room, she remembers.  Remembers her suffering, remembers how far Yahweh seemed, tucked into the temple, guarded by fierce, unsympathetic priests.  She remembers the very presence of God appearing, out of nowhere, and touching her, healing her.  She remembers how his words changed everything she thought she knew.  She remembers following.

 

Later, Judas faces the priests.  He shuffles his feet, looks down, speaks too fast, they have to ask him to repeat.  He does.  Slow grins light up their faces.  Judas feels relief and a surge of nausea all at once.

 

In the room, she feels Jesus’ warmth through her fingers.  She prays silent prayers.  Prayers that he might be spared, that he won’t feel alone, that he will know how loved he is.

 

In the room, Jesus sees them both.  Sees his death in both their eyes.  Sees her silent acknowledgement, feels her hands anointing him, blessing him.  Jesus sees Judas, too.  His shifty eyes and nervous hands.  His sneer.  His back.

 

Later, she wipes the perfume off her hands.  She hears about the soldiers.  She weeps.

 

Later, Judas feels the coins weigh down his pocket.  He runs his fingers through them, listens to them clink against each other.  Cold.  Hard.  Satisfying.  He looks around, realizes he is alone.

 

Later, she waits underneath the cross with the others.   She grips his mother’s hand.  She hears his last breath.  She experiences the deep silence, the emptiness, the end.

 

But later.  Oh, later!