A Sermon Preached Easter Vigil, April 23, 2011: Greetings!

by Lee Cheek, Lay Preacher

at St. Paul's, Stockbridge, MA (St. Paul, St. George, St. James, Good Shepherd Episcopal Churches)

Good Evening—or is it Good Morning? I’m not quite sure. I’m kind of dizzy from all the time travel we’ve done this evening from the beginning of creation to Matthew’s empty tomb.

These and all the other stories in the Hebrew Scriptures are the rich record of a people who heard the voice of a God different from their friends, families, and enemies. They all began, about 4000 years ago when our forbearers—the elderly Abraham and Sarah--left their fathers and the idols of their fathers to follow the God of Love wherever faithfulness to this God would lead them.

And what a journey it has been with this God who was gradually shorn of violence and sacrifice and discovered to be the one, true God of Love! These are holy stories of the spectacular ups and tragic downs of a people remembering and forgetting who and whose they were. Desire for mammon. Desire for God. Temples built, destroyed, rebuilt. Humiliating defeats and painful exiles. Feasts. Famines. Self-serving retribution. Gracious benevolence. Eyes for eyes, teeth for teeth. Joseph, Job, Esther, Jezebel. Judges, Kings, and Prophets. Laws and punishments. Treachery. Lies. Murder and salvation.

Think of it! All those stories have brought us here to sit in this lovely sanctuary of St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Stockbridge, Massachusetts, 2011 years this side of a Passover Feast in Jerusalem, when human desire went wrong (again) and converged in a vortex of violence that ended in a tomb of a murdered man.

A murdered man, who if we are to believe our witness Matthew, emerges from that tomb of tombs and says to the first people he meets, “Greetings!” Imagine that! “Greetings!” “Hi!”

That just slays me! I mean isn’t what we expect from a murdered man something like, “Wooooo, I’m going to get you!”? Something like the ghost of John the Baptist that visited the guilty Herod?

No. Matthew clearly does not want us to think that this is a ghost, for he writes: “And they--Mary Magdalen and the other Mary--came to him, took HOLD of his feet (!), and worshiped him.” You can’t hold on to the feet of a ghost.

This realness that Matthew and all the gospel witnesses insist on, is how they are saying to us that even though they were with Jesus for three years and hung on his every word, they were not able to piece it together and really know Jesus and what he was doing in any real way until after the events of that horrible, wrenching week in Jerusalem.

“Jerusalem, Jerusalem! The city that kills the prophets”¹ was a city on the brink of disaster then: a brutal occupying Roman army, rival factions at each other’s throat about how to deal with it, a volatile mob tired of it’s most recent celebrity, bitter memories of captivities and exiles, and a handful of desperate leaders whose only common interest was to quell the surging waters of violence that threatened to overflow and destroy them all.

They succumbed to the temptation, not unreasonable, of selecting a common enemy to draw all the violence in one direction. “It is better that one man should die for the many.”²

Who better, then, for the accusing finger to point to than that charismatic young rabbi whose life for the past three years had been a living interpretation of their own holy scripture—their holy stories of being called out by Love on a journey to a Promised Land where no one’s life or dignity or well-being would ever be sacrificed for the good of the order.

So then, the shameful spectacle of trumped up charges and trials. At no point did the young rabbi run away from his teaching of absolute non-violence. Not even in the face of empire, temple, crowd, and faithless friends.

The brutal public execution and burial in a sealed and guarded tomb brings us just this side of something extraordinary. Matthew sets the scene:

Earth-quake! Angel that looks like “lightning! Fainting soldiers! Angel rolls back the stone of the tomb. Waits for two Marys. Tells two Marys, “don’t be afraid, look inside, and run tell the disciples that Jesus will be waiting for them in Galilee.” Two Marys dash off to Jerusalem. Two Marys met in road by Jesus.

And then--after all the tortured, wretched, sorry business of the past three days—Jesus tosses out the word that sets the world in forward motion again, spinning out Love’s light from the abyss of the tomb of tombs, so that we, each and every one of us since then—betrayed and betrayer, tortured and torturer, slave and enslaver, liar and lied to—is miraculously back on the road to the Promised Land, inconceivably forgiven and loved.

“Greetings!” The word, evacuated of anger, reproach, even triumph, that gives us—we who have turned out to be wrong!—a very soft place to land. A soft landing where our nervous systems can relax.

Surprised and gentled by the infinite friendliness and patience of this forgiveness, we can feel the tension draining away, and it becomes possible for us to love others back into their dignity, as well.

“Greetings!” he said then, and still says to us today,

“I know your pettiness, your distorted desires, your tightly held grudges, your pride and your prejudice. I like you anyway! Now, go. Be on your way, and play your part: Tell everyone I’m coming, because, My Dears, when you waste Forgiveness and Love on them, I will already have arrived!”

AMEN.

---

¹Matthew 23:37

²John 18:14

The preacher gratefully acknowledges:

James Alison, http://www.ravenfoundation.org/projects/making-religion-reasonable/james-alison-s-forgiving-victim-dvd-series

Anthony Bartlett, Virtually Christian, O-Books, 2011

Nina Simone who preached it in song at Montreux 1976 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5dlrXCYrNYI&feature=related

A sermon preached Easter Sunday, April 24, 2011

by the Rev. Frances Hills, Rector

Colossians 3:1-4, John 20:1-18


 It’s always so good to hear the “alleluias”, to see the lilies, to sing the Easter hymns. And hearing the Easter Gospel is always astonishing! The empty tomb. The angels. And the gardener, who turns out to be Jesus himself! There’s a poem I love about this Easter Day Gospel of John. It’s by Janet Morley and called “They have taken away my lord”.

           

            It was unfinished.

            We stayed there, fixed, until the end,

            women waiting for the body that we loved;

            and then it was unfinished.

            There was no time to cherish, cleanse, anoint;

            no time to handle him with love,

            no farewell.

            Since then, my hands have waited,

            aching to touch even his deadness,

            smoothe oil into bruises that no longer hurt,

            offer his silent flesh my finished act of love.

            I came early, as the darkness lifted,

            to find the grave ripped open and his body gone;

            container of my grief smashed, looted,

            leaving my hands still empty,

            I turned on the man who came:

            ‘They have taken away my Lord—where is his

            corpse?

            Where is the body that is mine to greet?

            He is not gone

            I am not ready yet, I am not finished—

            I cannot let him go.

            I am not whole.’

            And then he spoke, no corpse,

            and breathed,

            and offered me my name.

            My hands rushed to grasp him;

            to hold and hug and grip his body close;       

to give myself again, to cling to him,

            and lose my self in love.

            ‘Don’t touch me now.’

            I stopped, and waited, my rejected passion

            hovering between us like some dying thing.

            I Mary, stood and grieved, and then departed.

            I have a gospel to proclaim.

(Janet Morley, All Desires Known: Prayers Uniting Faith and Feminism, p. 54.)

Mary had a gospel to proclaim. We have a gospel to proclaim—and not just those of us who are called to preach. As followers of our Risen Lord, all of us have a gospel to proclaim. I’m reminded of something attributed to St. Francis of Assisi, “Preach the Gospel always. If necessary, use words!” Francis realizes that the way we live our lives—all that we say and do—has the potential of showing forth the Gospel, the Good News of Jesus Christ, our Risen Lord! So, we all have a gospel to preach and proclaim, with our without words.

With that in mind I want to turn to today’s short lesson from the letter to the Colossians, because this letter gives us strength and direction for proclaiming the Gospel. Hear it again, but this time from The Message translation (Eugene Peterson):

He Is Your Life

 ^1-2 So if you're serious about living this new resurrection life with Christ, act like it. Pursue the things over which Christ presides. Don't shuffle along, eyes to the ground, absorbed with the things right in front of you. Look up, and be alert to what is going on around Christ—that's where the action is. See things from his perspective.

 ^3-4Your old life is dead. Your new life, which is your real life—even though invisible to spectators—is with Christ in God. He is your life. When Christ (your real life, remember) shows up again on this earth, you'll show up, too—the real you, the glorious you!
The writer reminds us, we have been raised with Christ. We are Easter People! If we’re really serious about it, we have the opportunity to live into the fullness of the “resurrection life”. Right here. Right now! So we can indeed proclaim the Good News by all that we say and do!
But do we have a deep, passionate sense of being Resurrection people? Are we truly alive and walking in the light of the Risen Christ? Or are we more like people who hang out in the tomb?
The Colossians writer says, to be the Resurrection People we already are, all we have to do is act like it. Just do it! Act like Easter People! Then he gives us some clues about how to do it. He tells us to pursue the things Jesus presided over. Maybe that means to love what Jesus loved, things like justice, love, peace. andacts of mercy and compassion to those who are poor and suffering.
Our life in the Risen Christ calls us to a new set of values and actions centered on God. These are acts of courage to protest death and darkness in our world and acts of self-giving for the victory of life and love. In Colossians we’re told to get out of ourselves, to look beyond “what’s next” in our lives and to join whatever is going on around Jesus! That’s where the action is.
So we’ve got to figure out what Jesus is up to in our world. Where is Jesus acting in our day? Where is the real action?  It takes time to discern these things, but living in the Resurrection, we’re empowered to see things as Christ does. So we can discern God’s mission and join it! Colossians says as Resurrection people, we are transformed, set ablaze, and empowered to live lives that are real and glorious—Lives that embody the resurrection in all we say and do. We have a Gospel to proclaim! Right now, in this life! So let’s do it…

Alleluia. Christ is risen. (The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia.) Amen.
(Part of the inspiration for this sermon came from Synthesis, Easter Day 2011.)

A sermon preached Maundy Thursday 2011

by the Rev. Frances A. Hills, Rector of St. James, Vicar of St. George

at Christ Church Episcopal-Trinity Lutheran Church, Sheffield, MA

Foot Washing is in both the Book of Common Prayer and the Lutheran Book of Worship. In fact it’s the Lutheran’s beautiful service we are using this evening for our liturgy. So since it’s in our prayer books, we can conclude this action of foot washing is important to the Church. And yet, it’s not an official “sacrament”. Now that puzzles me because it is an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace, and besides that Jesus told us to “do it”!

But I suppose it’s just as well it’s not considered a sacrament…If foot washing were called a sacrament of the Church, then just think about all the various standing liturgical commissions that would have had to have endless debates: Where to do it. Who could do it. When to do it. Exactly why we do it. If the water should be warm or cool. If the towels should be white or red or gold. Which foot should be washed first! And then, of course, church architects would have to figure out some special kind of drain for all that the dirty water! So this gracious act happily flies slightly under the radar of all that scrutiny, and we are left to do it in whatever way the Spirit moves us.

Now we’ve all come here this evening after our various long days with the stresses of  jobs, homes, school work, or even Spring Break leisure. The concerns of the world are probably heavy in our hearts. We’re frightened by the unending wars, natural disasters, and economic instabilities that seem to compound daily. And as we gather here tonight, we probably bring a variety of opinions about how these things might be helped or resolved. Some of these ideas we might discuss here, others we probably do not.  

And we come here tonight with concerns in our hearts for our friends and families.

Some are in pain, sick, and/or dying. Some are in transition or on the verge of new possibilities. Some are perhaps estranged from us. Some in this church tonight share our joys and burdens with us as close companions. Others have no idea. 

And there are all our more practical thoughts about what needs to be done between now and when Easter Dinner’s on the table…and who will be at that table.

And then there’s our thoughts and feelings about being here together tonight…Lutherans and Episcopalians from four congregations joyfully sharing this very holy Maundy Thursday. Some of us have a lovely church building. Others of us are homeless, by circumstance or choice or a complicated mixture of these. Some of us here tonight have shared an earlier history. Some of that was joyful.

Some of it—not so pretty.

So we’re here this evening with all this (and more) going on inside us. We’re not unlike those first disciples that night at the supper and foot washing. They gathered there after their various busy days. They lived in a world of political and religious chaos. Both the Romans and the Jewish authorities were breathing down their necks because their teacher, Jesus, was such a threat to the established order. They were afraid. They didn’t understand. They disagreed sometimes. At least some of them clung tightly to the idea that their friend Jesus was the Messiah. They believed he would set things right. For them that meant he would overthrow the Roman oppressors. After all, that’s what happened in the Moses story. When God delivered their ancestors out of bondage in Egypt, the Egyptians were overthrown. That’s how they expected God to act. So they thought Jesus would reign as an earthly king, who would forcefully overthrow the Romans. Then they would be in the new king’s “inner circle”. So this band of 12, who knew Jesus better than anyone, mostly just didn’t get it! There were power struggles among them. Personal agendas and concerns. Hopes. Fears. Worldly aspirations. Strong opinions about the way things should have been, are, and will be.

On the night before he suffered, Jesus tries again to show them what he was really about. and he chooses to do it in an ordinary way with both actions and words. He removes his robe, ties a towel around his waist, takes a basin of water, and begins to wash the feet of the 12. This is a task normally and routinely done by a household slave when a dusty guest arrives. So when their master and lord Jesus does it, it transforms an ordinary gesture of practical hospitality into a revolutionary act. It’s an act of humility and self-emptying, and it epitomizes the paradox of the Gospel. Jesus, their teacher, lord, and master turns their hierarchical expectations upside down. He shows them the way of his Kingdom is not one of worldly power, prestige and control. It’s not one with military might. Instead it’s a Kingdom built on lowliness and self-sacrifice. To follow his example is to create a community of equals in which all are served—Faithful and unfaithful alike.

Remember John’s Gospel is careful to let us see that Jesus even washes Judas’ feet, although he knew he would later betray him. But for that time and moment all were at the table together being physically shown what following Jesus would require.

What’s required is nothing short of total surrender: Letting go of our resentments about past hurts and disappointments. Putting things right and letting go of our guilt about past wrongs. Letting go of our plans and ideas about the way we think things should be. Letting go of our cherished hopes and dreams about what the future will be like. The 12—and we—are called to this kind of radical self-emptying. We are called to do this so we can follow Jesus’ New Commandment…To love one another.

If we’re full of our own self and our own hopes, fears, ambitions, and agendas, then we need to protect these things. We are easily threatened. So our responses to others will often be ones of defense, anger, blame and resentment. These are not responses of gracious, spacious welcome, where we have lots of room to offer hospitality and love to all God’s people, no matter who they are. For me the inward grace of the foot washing is that it makes us vulnerable to one another. We become able to admit we need to be cleansed. We need to be forgiven. We need to be served. We need to be emptied out so that God can fill us with God’s love. I think the only way we can put down our swords, hurts, and resentments is if we are able to accept that we are—each and every one of us—God’s beloved one. If we can appropriate our belovedness, then our belovedness becomes the most important fact of our lives. We don’t need to protect or defend anything. So no matter who disappoints us or hurts us or threatens us in any way, we always have at our core that belovedness, which is the one thing that’s eternally essential to us. Our belovedness is the one thing that we can’t afford to lose.

I think that’s what Jesus was trying to show his disciples when he washed their feet…They are beloved, and their mission in the world is to help everyone know they are beloved as well. If we can live in that place of belovedness, then we don’t need to use force. We don’t need to feel threatened. We don’t need to blame anyone. We don’t need to let anyone hurt our feelings, because we have the one thing that we really need…GOD’S LOVE; and we will do the one thing we really need to do…LOVE OTHERS. May we do these things this night and always in remembrance that Christ died for us. Amen. 

(Inspiration for this sermon came in part from Synthesis Maundy Thursay 2011 and also from the ideas of Henri Nouwen.)

Episcopal Tourist, Palm Sunday with the Lutherans

I am down in South Carolina near my birthplace Greenville staying with my old college roommate John and his wife Marise who arranged a recital and master classes for me here. I attended their church Joy Lutheran for Palm Sunday services.

Marise was singing in the choir so John and I arrived just as the service was beginning out on the front lawn. We were warmly greeted and given palms and bulletins. I was identified as a visitor and invited to fill out an information card.

We joined the liturgy in progress led by the “vicar” a young woman seminarian who read the Matthew Gospel. There was a donkey lead by a local farmer.

We processed into the church as the farmer took his donkey away to a waiting trailer. There was a musical prelude with instruments. As we came in the choir began singing “All Glory Laud and Honor”. Their version is slightly different in melody and rhythm and I needed to pay attention. We came to the front, left our palms by the altar and took our seats.

There was an anthem Hosanna Loud Hosanna played on the hand chimes, quite lovely.

After brief prayers Pastor Lane Bembenck welcomed us and made a number of announcements.

This is a church plant. The area was once farmland and is now rapidly becoming residential. In 1998, Pastor Lane went house to house and invited people to come to his new church. First they met in a home but soon outgrew it. They now have a fine new Sanctuary and church buildings. There were at least 125 present at this service. There are many activities and very active outreach including a shelter for homeless in the church.. Next month they will vote to refinance their mortgage.

The service continued with a reading by four people of the St Matthew Passion, after which we sang “Were you there”. There was no sermon though Marise tells me Pastor Lane is an excellent speaker.

The prayers of the people were read by the Pastor and were quite brief.. After the offering we celebrated Holy Communion. The only thing that made it really different for me was that intinction was the only option, no drinking from the cup. After the blessing we left the church in silence.

The silence was quickly broken as we lined up to greet the Pastor and Vicar. I was recognized as a visitor. The pastor said “you must be Episcopalian”. Somewhat taken aback I asked how he knew. He said “your cross. I was wearing my Jerusalem Cross that Lee brought me from the Holy Land.

John and I continued outside into the warm sunshine and spoke with several people. One couple came up to our car as we were leaving to say how much they had enjoyed my singing.

As we drove out of the driveway to the highway we passed a sign that said “You are entering the Mission field.”

SUNDAY OF THE PASSION; PALM SUNDAY

April 17, 2011 by The Rev. Howard Seip

In 1610, Francis de Sales proclaimed the following in his first major book, “Be conscious of the love with which Jesus Christ, our Lord, suffered so much in this world.  You were the object of this love.  Remember, the heart of our Lord saw your heart, and loved you surely from the tree of the cross.  By this love he obtained for you all the good things that you will ever have.  His divine goodness has prepared in his love and mercy all the means for our salvation.  This loving heart of God thought of us, loved us, and obtained for us a thousand means of salvation.  How much then should we love, cherish, and make good use of all this for our benefit!  Imprint this on your spirit.”

         As we gather here for worship today, with all of the hustle and bustle and joyous celebration of Palm Sunday, and with all of the quiet and painful and somber reflection of the reading of Christ’s Passion, if we are thoughtful and wonder what the meaning of this day is for us with all of its contradictory thoughts and feelings, I think that we could do no better than to internalize what Francis de Sales is saying to us.  For he is saying that this whole life and passion of Christ that we participate in is a picture to us of God’s loving care for us and God’s desire for our salvation and new life.  And perhaps more than that, he says that it is a call to us to respond and reach out to God in love and wonder and to grow into new life because of that.  In the cross God reaches out to us in love, and in seeing it, we reach back in our own love and are transformed by it.

         I want us to spend a little time with Francis de Sales this morning because he was the focus of my reading and meditation during this Lenten season, and as I have suggested in my quote from him, I think that he can guide us to the meaning of our worship celebration today.  But I also think that he can give us practical guidance in living our Christian lives right here and now.  Because Francis was committed to preaching the truth that the spiritual life of seeking God is something that is the calling of every Christian person and the heart of our life in the church.  He lived in a day, somewhat like our own, in which people thought that serious religious life was just for professionals like priests and nuns, and not for the ordinary person in the pew.  But Francis saw that the life of faith with God was for everyone, and was something relevant to our real lives everyday in this world.  It wasn’t just some heavenly vision or something just in a monastery.

         That means that he is calling us to a life in the church that goes beyond what it ordinarily can be.  There is a spiritual reality beyond the politics, the business meetings, the problems and personal conflicts, and the trivia that can so dominate and choke up our lives in the church.  And he not only calls us to that spiritual life, he also clearly identifies what it is.  For, he says, it is nothing beyond two simple, but terribly important things – an inner transformation of our hearts and spirits by a devotion that is nothing other than a sincere and true love of God.  He is utterly convinced that we will never find the true fulfillment of our lives or their deepest meaning until we let go of the surface things of life and seek a true inner transformation of our hearts and spirits by seeking to love God with all of our hearts and minds.

And for Francis as a Christian leader and member of the church, that search for God and making God real in our lives focuses on the person of Jesus Christ whose life is at the heart of our worship today.  In fact, de Sales had a very short motto that summarized his whole approach to the spiritual life.  And that motto was “Live Jesus”.  Live Jesus.  He wanted to see us grow in our hearts of devotion until we get to the point where we are so close to Christ in our lives that we have a sense of him living in our hearts and spirits so that we could live a life of love as he did.

But how do you do that?  After calling us to the spiritual life, and then giving us a sense of what it is and its meaning, he also gives us practical advice about just how then we go about beginning that process in our lives and cultivating and growing it.  In the course of his major works, he has many suggestions that cover many hundreds of pages, but for him, the central thing is prayer.  But not just prayer in the sense that we usually think of it as prayers for ourselves or for others like we have in the prayers of the people each week.  He believes that we will really be able to enter into the spiritual life and begin to transform our hearts so that we can be close to God by meditation and contemplation.  Meditation and contemplation.

Now those long, fancy words are just technical terms for two really quite simple notions.  Francis wants us to come close to God by entering into the stories of Christ through our imagination and make them ours so that we can gradually identify ourselves with Christ and grow closer to him with devotion and affection.  That is the process of meditation, and our stories of Christ’s entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, or the story of his Passion with all of its profound elements are good examples of ones to use to do this.  Contemplation on the other hand is a form of prayer that is simpler, less imaginative and connected with words, that is a prayer of simple being in God’s presence and attentiveness to God’s loving reality in silence and solitude that is done to awaken us to our closeness to God.

That still might seem like a hard thing for us busy people to do all by ourselves.  So after encouraging us to pursue this spiritual life of devotion that would bring us to love God and to live close to Jesus, Francis declares that this is actually something that is really possible for us and can become a reality in our lives.  It is no mere dream of fantasy.  For he is convinced that God is alive and working in our lives through grace and love to make these things a possibility.  And he uses a delightful and strikingly contemporary image to get his point across and help us to see that we are not alone in the world in our spiritual struggles but are accompanied by a divine presence that is active and gracious and loving.

For as we seek to pursue the spiritual life, de Sales says that God is like a woman who is expecting a baby.  What does such a pregnant woman do?  She lovingly prepares for the coming of this new life into her world.  She selects a special place in her home for the new baby, she builds or procures a beautiful cradle as their new dwelling place, and collects soft and comfy sheets and blankets and pillows to make them happy and secure.

And Francis declares that this is just what God is like.  For as he says, God is like that expectant mother, only God is pregnant with us.  And desires your new life and fulfillment, salvation and spiritual riches.  So like the woman in the story, God in grace and love provides all the spiritual dwelling places, cradles, blankets and pillows that we will need in our pilgrimage to travel the spiritual path and come to seek and love our God.  And this connects us back with the quote that we read at the beginning of how in his life and in his passion on the cross, Christ shows God’s love for us, but also creates for us all of the spiritual conditions and blessings that will make salvation possible for us.

“My God”, Francis asks, “how deeply this truth should be fixed in our memory.  Is it possible that I have been loved, and loved so tenderly, by my Savior?”  And this reflection on Christ’s love for us brings us back to our celebration for today, because his vision of Christ’s love centers on his passion.  In the conclusion of his last major writing, published in 1616, de Sales shares with us some profound words.  May they guide our way through the meaning of this Palm and Passion Sunday, our way through Holy Week that is to come, and our vision of the spiritual life that we are called to embrace.

He says,“Our Lord’s passion and death form the sweetest, strongest motive capable of moving our hearts in this life. Calvary is the mountain of lovers.  Love that does not spring from the Savior’s passion is perilous.  In our Lord’s passion love and death blend so inextricably that no heart can contain one without the other.

One path alone our feet must tread

While this life lasts, and God holds sway;

Eternal love or death – the choice;

And God has left no middle way.

Eternal love – my soul demands it; my choice is made!  Yes, come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful and kindle in them the fire of your love.  Death to all other loves, to live for love of Jesus.  Living in your eternal love, Savior of our souls, let this be our song forever:

All for Jesus!  All for Jesus, my love, living and reigning forever and ever. Amen!”

A Sermon preached April 10, 2011, Lent 5 A 2011

By The Rev. Frances A. Hills, Rector

Texts: Ezekiel 37:1-14, John 11:1-45

When Lent began this year, I talked about it as a “Come as you are party”. . . Come as you are to God…with all your flaws, insecurities, doubts, and fears. I talked about Lent as an opportunity for honesty and self-examination, a time to grow spiritually.

Well, here we are, starting the last week of Lent before Holy Week. How have you done in terms of growing spiritually? If you’re like me, perhaps you haven’t come as far as you’d hoped. But take heart. It’s not too late. Today Jesus calls us to a “coming out party”! He stands at the tomb of our hearts and says “Lazarus, Harry, Mary, Francie…Come out!” Quit hiding behind the deadly tomb of unresolved relationships, old grudges, insecurities, resentments, fears of failure, depression, anxiety grief, and isolation. Quit hiding, and COME OUT! Come into the light! Believe in the awesome power of a God who can give you new life! It’s the God who puts new flesh on dry bones and breathes the breath of life into them. It’s the God who raises Lazarus from the tomb, after he was dead for four days. It’s the God who gives hope to the depressed, when they fear they’re doomed to exile, desertion or isolation. It’s the God who eventually brings forth the reality of a brand new future.

Now, of course, if we allow ourselves to hope and allow our powerful God to call us forth from whatever keeps us from living fully, we might actually stink a bit… But probably not for long! Over time we’d be much fresher, more alive than ever before. But somehow human beings are reluctant to heed God’s call to “come out.”

We tend to withdraw from people, pain, effort, and from the risks of trying something new. We avoid things that might threaten our status-quo. But God persists, “Come Out!” Don’t miss your own growth. Your own becoming! Your own BEING! Don’t wish yourself and the world dead with negativity and hopelessness.

Jesus summons us to LIFE.  HOPE.  HUMOR. COMPASSION.  LOVE.  CREATIVITY. SOLIDARITY—Things that make the cynic recoil and that make God glad! We may try to resist, but ultimately, Jesus’ call is too strong, “Come out!”  So we come forth from our timidity toward life, perhaps wrapped and bound, and smelly; but we do come out! And then there’s the next call, “Untie him/ Unbind her. Let them go free.”   There’s no end to the ways God can set us free—as individuals, and as a church. And there’s no end to the trouble God will go to in order to set us free.

Today’s Gospel is a great example: On a previous trip, Jesus and the disciples were almost stoned in Judea, so they’d withdrawn to a safer place. But now, in spite of the disciples’ reluctance, Jesus puts himself and them in great danger. He returns to Judea in order to raise his beloved friend Lazarus.

In the process of our spiritual growth, we must sometimes go back to places we’d rather not…Places where we were not accepted or places where we’ve felt unsafe.

Sometimes we must revisit painful relationships, or topics that feel threatening, or a grief that won’t heal. And in our churches, there are also places we don’t like to revisit: Perhaps a difficult chapter in our history, or the fact of empty pews, or a shortage of money.     Even if our instincts, like the disciples’, tell us to avoid these places, our God tells us to GO THERE:

These are the places we must revisit, if we want the healing and new life our powerful God can give us.

Jesus goes there willingly, to give us resurrection and life. He goes there to open the graves and to call us forth. Even if we’re not really sure we want our graves opened, our powerful God does it to break our isolations, and to bring forth healing and hope and all manner of New Life. Jesus goes there willingly, and invites us to join him…To be part of his saving ministry.

Some of you know that yesterday six church vestries in South County met for a Joint Retreat. Over the past few years, each of these churches has become paired with one of the others- Some formally, some only informally. Each pair is in a different place in their relationship. So yesterday we met:

·       CCE-TLC, a conjoined parish;

·       St. Paul and Good Shepherd,

Churches that are in the process of merging;

·    And us— St. James and St. George,

Churches that are worshiping together, sharing a priest, and in conversation about how our relationship might continue to develop.

At the retreat, each pair of churches told its unique story of how they began to be in relationship. Sometimes the stories were funny. Sometimes they were sad, but they were always Holy. They all showed the most incredible work of God’s Spirit.

I think it caused all of us to revisit some painful things… About finances, buildings, dwindling numbers, and previously failed or dissolved relationships with each other. We had to go places that perhaps felt dangerous…

Obviously for congregations to be in or even entertain the idea of becoming something new together upsets the status quo. But for whatever reasons, God has called us back to Judea. And more than that, as I listened to the stories of all our congregations, I was in awe of the new life and hope that was gathered in that space. For the Episcopal-Lutheran Churches in South Berkshire County, God has called us out of our tombs of death and isolation! God has come to us and bid us be unbound...To come into the Light! Not just for our own sakes, but that we might roll away the stones for others, so that they may also live in the light!  Amen.

Parts of this sermon are adapted from an article in Homily Service, March 2005, by Hilary Hayden, O.S.B.