A Sermon Preached March 25, 2012 at Crissey Farm

by the Rev. Ted Cobden

Lent 5 B ~ John 12:20-33

“Leadership”

The hour has come”...now is the time…”for the Son of Man to be glorified.” Each time I read this passage, I marvel at Jesus and his authority, his sense of who he is and what he is about. Here he is at the turning point in his ministry. He is heading to the cross. He feels the horror and terror of the path. Yet he is in control. He holds on to his vision and conviction. He is showing us what leadership is about.

When we see Jesus at these moments, we marvel at his authority and leadership. But let us not suppose we are here merely to observe Jesus and to cheer him on. As if Jesus were running in an arena, and we were in the stands applauding him. He says to us “Whoever serves me must follow me. Or as Mark has it: “If any want to become my

followers, let them take up their cross and follow me.” He is pointing to us; calling each of us by name. “Come down from the bleachers; join me in the way of the cross. He wants us to share his vision. To be followers of him and to be leaders ourselves. That is a paradox. The follower of Jesus is a leader. He calls us to lead by learning from his way of leading.

The first thing we notice about his leadership style is that he is clear about his goal. He is going to confront the powers and dominions of this world. Those forces which are messing up God’s people and God’s creation: making people narrow-minded, dividing people into hostile groups, splintering people into self-absorbed bubbles. Those forces which bring fear and darkness. Forces of oppression, addiction and degradation. Jesus enters into the very center of this black hole of evil to show that the ultimate power is light and life. Truth. Selfless love. Irrepressible justice.

One of the reasons we worship regularly is to keep this goal in front of us. This goal of being free of fear because we believe light will shine out of darkness, fairness will prevail, forgiveness heals broken relationships. During the week this vision can easily be distorted. We come back to it in worship to embrace the vision afresh.

So Jesus models leadership for us first because he is clear about his goal and purpose. The second way he models leadership is that he demonstrates the way he achieves the goal. He sees the immensity of the undertaking, and he steps forward into the horrendous struggle. He admits, “Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say- ‘Father, save me from this hour?’ No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour.” He knows the pain and the desperate lonesomeness he will experience. But he steps forward toward the cross.

Those of us who follow Jesus have walked in the way of the cross. Not to the scale and depth of Jesus. But we have experienced loss and sorrow. On occasion we have stood for the hard right against the easy wrong.

What we found as we walked the way of the cross was that we were not alone. The risen Jesus was with us. The friends of Jesus were with us. The power of God was with us. With that support we came to newness of life.

That's how the goal is accomplished--with that support.

That is the third aspect of leadership Jesus demonstrates. Not only does a good leader have a clear objective and demonstrate the way to achieve the goal, the leader comes along side those he or she is leading.

Christ is with us as he was with the disciples on the way to Emmaus.

I have seen you going along side others who were struggling on the way of the cross. I have seen you being the hands of Christ. Even more importantly Christ has seen you as you cared for others. The risen one says, “I have seen you standing beside those who were being discriminated against. I have seen you holding the month old infant in the Ghana orphanage. I have seen you bringing teenagers to learn to serve others at Breaking Bread Kitchen.

“Whoever serves me,” says Jesus, “must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also.” The Gospel for today show us Jesus as our leader. He is clear about his vision. He shows us the way to step forward and achieve the goal. And as with the best of leaders he comes along side of us to help us. To help us be steadfast in keeping our vision of the way of the cross. He empowers us to achieve our vision as he comes beside us on the way, the way to Emmaus, the way of the compassionate rule of God.

Edging Into the Light

Sermon preached by Lee Cheek, Lay Preacher, Christ Church Episcopal/Trinity Lutheran Church, Sheffield, MA, Lent 4B 3-18-12

If only the world knew of you! If only the world knew what got you up this morning and brought you here!

Could you tell the world of your desire to be governed by love rather than fear? Could you speak of your desire to hear something deeply and profoundly liberating in the Scriptures?

Could you speak of your desire to give your heart over to The One who truly “likes” you and is “for” you and everyone else?

Could you, could I, speak of our desire to step out of the darkness of getting our security and good feelings about ourselves at the expense of others? Could we confess our deep longing to step out of the darkness of cheap togetherness purchased with the humiliation, demonization, torture, and murder of other human beings?

Well, I think these desires, or desires like these, were some of the same ones that drove Nicodemus, a high-ranking priest of Jerusalem to visit Jesus under the cover of night. It is this nocturnal encounter that immediately precedes today's gospel. It sets up John’s expanded discourse on how Jesus will make explicit once and for all what God’s intentions for the Hebrew people—and indeed for the whole world—had been along: to love us out of our propensity to become very dangerous to each other when our desire for mammon becomes greater than our desire to love God and others.

In 2006, John and I heard North Carolina Episcopal Bishop Michael Curry say that he believed that Nicodemus was the first Episcopalian. He said he was absolutely convinced of that because—and I know you Lutherans will love this—because “only Episcopalians would try to come to Jesus, quietly, at night, when nobody was looking.”[1] (That’s the truth, isn’t it?)

Anyway, in the Fourth Gospel, Nicodemus appears only three times. And I like to think these three slender appearances provide a clue to the Fourth Evangelists’ own spiritual journey because they are slight yet potent, and just a little off-stage. Just the thing a biographer might slip in to disclose his own witness.

Nicodemus’s story (which could be the beloved disciple’s story, or even your story or my story) is the story of being gradually enabled to step out of the darkness and into the light. Out of the darkness of using power over someone else to cover one’s insecurities. And into the light with those who are powerless because they are excluded, suspected, maltreated, oppressed, and reviled.[2]

Nicodemus already knows a lot about such things. He’s a member of an authoritative group of priests and Pharisees to whom the temple police report. Yet he has been impressed by the signs Jesus does, and he tells Jesus he sees the presence of God in them. Now isn’t that interesting?

So sensing Nicodemus’ desire to be closer to God, which means that he would prefer to be in God’s kingdom sooner rather than later, Jesus tells him he must be born of the Spirit.

Then Nicodemus seems to disappear off the page as the Fourth Evangelist begins the long discourse we heard this morning. If you remember, it begins with a peculiar story about one way of dealing with the human tendency to start looking for a scapegoat when the going gets rough, like it did when the Israelites ran out of food and water.

Imagine what life was like for Moses! He had to organize over a half million people over several decades to move from one place to another in order to forge their identity as the people of God. Of course there was grumbling, in-fighting, jealousies, pettiness, violence, and lots of murmuring. And this story, which we heard earlier, is the fifth and final such “murmuring” story in the Book of Numbers.

Really, it is amazing that Moses lived as long as he did! Because it is human vindictiveness and spitefulness that is so colorfully and aptly represented by the biting, fiery serpents. Human vindictiveness and spitefulness that ends up coalescing to blame Moses, and for the first time, God.

A major distraction is needed, so God gives Moses instructions to wave a staff with a bronze serpent “to cure” them of the bites they have in reality inflicted upon each other and have begun to inflict on Moses.

They are magically distracted—perhaps because the coiled bronze serpent reminds them of the cobra on Pharoah’s headgear. Fearful fascination can be a powerful diversion for a little while, but clearly by the time King Hezekiah throws it out of the 1^st Temple[3], it is no longer working.

So what the Fourth Evangelist is telling us with this reference is that something more real than a bronze serpent will be lifted up in order to show the world that its fake unity and peace is always bought with the blood of innocent victims.

The “Something Real” that will be lifted up will be an innocent man. An innocent man at a particular moment of apocalyptic crisis in first-century Judea who will show his love for the world by yielding in compassion, non-retaliation, and non-violence to the brutal reality of a Roman execution on a cross, brought on by the fear and guilt of the temple priesthood and supported by the mob rule of a ginned-up resentful, occupied people.

You see, it is terrifically difficult for we human beings to realize our complicity in purchasing our power, goodness, and security at the expense of others until someone who is completely free to love us and be for us freely steps into the vortex of our wrath.

At no point will this innocent man ask God to avenge him and even more unexpectedly in a moment of radiant transcendence, he forgives everyone in his last breaths. In such a moment of transcendent forgiveness and compassion even the cruelest of persecutors can learn to humble herself and renounce her vengeful passion. Such love could only come from God and indeed, this innocent victim will be recognized as God himself.

But let us return to our friend Nicodemus, who after the speech we heard today is not even granted an exit. We meet him next in chapter 7 when the temple police are reporting back to the chief priests and Pharisees about not having arrested Jesus as ordered. They declare in their defense that never has anyone spoken like Jesus. Curious…

Nicodemus, a member of this group, offers this: “Our law does not judge people without first giving them a hearing to find out what they are doing, does it?” Small, sure, truthful, edging into the light. Though we don’t know for sure, this may be his first public witness to the truth of what is unfolding in Jerusalem and what is simultaneously unfolding in his heart.

The last time we meet Nicodemus, he is with Joseph of Arimathea at the burial of Jesus.

Nicodemus, who had at first come to Jesus by night, also came, bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes, weighing about a hundred pounds. They took the body of Jesus and wrapped it with the spices in linen cloths, according to the burial custom of the Jews.

So simple. So relaxed. So non-hurried. Nicodemus, in the daylight, living out in full view the truth of his conversion to trusting and believing with his whole heart in the power of the love that brought him back to a life in the light. He oils and wraps the body of the man who drank the cup of our wrath to its dregs. He oils and wraps the body of the man whose powerlessness and weakness eventually challenged all history.

We don’t know how Nicodemus’ story continues but what we do know of it—his first movement toward Love under the cover of night, his clear, first witness at the ruling council, and his generous, loving care of Jesus’ body—these three events might be enough to persuade us, as with Nicodemus, that Love only comes into the world case by case, individual by individual.

Like Nicodemus, we are enabled to learn that Love is not a system of beliefs dividing true believers from non-believers, nor is Love a system of goodness that excludes those whom we agree are not good. For neither of these systems were ever enfleshed by Jesus. And by definition, the Kingdom of God is not populated with their adherents.

That is the judgment—which is simply another way of saying that moment to moment, encounter by encounter, it is our choice, by virtue of grace, whether or not to live in the darkness of self-justification by ethnicity, country, religion, political party, skin color or sexual orientation in order to secure our identity at the expense of others.

Or, alternatively, moment by moment, encounter by encounter, it is our choice by grace to live as if we really trusted that Love’s eternal life is going on right now, this side of our physical deaths.

Is this the Love that brought you here this morning? I hope so. Because if it is, the world should know about you ... and you ... and you ...and you!

AMEN.[4]

---

[1] http://religiousleft.bmgbiz.net/u2charist.html Bishop Michael Curry’s sermon at General Convention, U2Charist, June 13, 2006, Columbus, Ohio.

[2]See Bonhoefferr, Dietrich. Letters and Papers from Prison, p. 17, “the view from below” (New York: Touchstone, 1997)

[3] 2 Kings 18.4

[4] The preacher wishes to acknowledge the following authors and their publications for inspiring and shaping this sermon: James Alison (2009: “What sorts of difference does René Girard make to how we read the Bible?” http://www.jamesalison.co.uk/texts/eng56.html, and 2006: “Sacrifice, Law, and the Catholic Faith: Is secularity really the enemy?” http://www.jamesalison.co.uk/texts/eng36.html ); Anthony Bartlett (Cross Purposes, 2001, Trinity Press); J. Martin C. Scott (“John” in Eerdmans Commentary on the Bible, 2003). Thank you!

A Sermon Preached March 18, 2012, on the Fourth Sunday in Lent at Crissey Farm

by the Rev. Howard Seip

John 3:14-21

As we gather for worship this morning we are in the midst of a very special season in the church.  One in which we prepare our hearts and minds for the joy of Easter and seek to grow in our spiritual lives.  But this is also a special day in particular because in times past, when the season of Lent was a much more serious and somber thing, when it involved much more rigorous discipline and adversity for even the average church goer, people came to church on this day in the very midst of Lent to find some spiritual refreshment. 

They came to connect with the sense of joy that there is in following God that can delight the heart.  To seek and find treasures of spiritual wisdom that would enlighten the heart and inspire the soul.  So I invite us all to reflect and meditate together for just a little while with that journey and pilgrimage of discovery in mind.  And we’ll seek to do this by using the Bible readings that have been selected for this Sunday.

Now when I began to try to do just this very thing for myself and also see where I might lead us in our own reflections this morning, I started with our reading from the Old Testament book of Numbers.  The story that we just heard about the people of Israel during their journey in the wilderness after their exodus from Egypt.  Perhaps I thought, we will be inspired and strengthened in our spiritual lives by what we read there.  Well, you remember the beginning of that story, where the people, rather than being a model of trusting faithfulness, explode in anger and complain against both Moses and even worse, against their God.  In a short account that appears to have been badly edited in ancient times, they are both enraged because they are starving because they have no water or food, and at the same time are infuriated because the food that they have been given tastes horrible.

Well, aside from being reminded that complaining is a bad thing, I didn’t find the inspiration that I was seeking there, so I thought that I would keep looking.  And when I did, I found that the very next section was about the people being bitten by poisonous snakes so that many of them died.  Now fruitless wandering in the desert for years without food or water would have been just about quite enough for me.  But when you add in poisonous snakes that could kill me, I would have been out of there for sure!  So I kept reading.

We all remember that the passage ends with Moses making a bronze snake and put it on a pole so that the people could gaze upon it.  And when they did, they would be healed and cured.  Now that was interesting, but still perhaps not completely inspiring, so I decided to look further and came upon a commentary that suggested that this conclusion to the story reflected origins in of all things, a primitive Canaanite snake cult. 

A primitive Canaanite snake cult?  Well, for better or worse, I’m the kind of person who would find that interesting, and still seeking spiritual inspiration, I decided to dig even deeper.  And when I did, and finally found something, I discovered that scholars think that it had something to do with erotic activities involving a fertility god.  Now once again, I’m just the kind of person who would find exploring that intriguing, but for a sermon at 10 o’clock on a Sunday morning, not so much.  Still not exactly what I’d call spiritual inspiration.  You’re welcome.

But if we remember our gospel lesson, we will recall that the author of the Gospel of John clearly did find inspiration in the image of Moses and the people and the raising of the bronze serpent in the desert for his interpretation of the meaning of the life of Christ.  For in it he sees an image or symbol of the meaning and power of Christ’s cross and crucifixion to heal and bring salvation to us.  So mercifully we will leave behind our story from Numbers and see if the wisdom and spiritual truth we seek this morning will be found in our reading from John’s gospel.

Some of you will probably recall that our reading today is taken from John’s story of Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus.  Nicodemus comes to Jesus seeking wisdom, and he tells him that no one can see God, or God’s presence or reign without being born again, or from above, from God’s mysterious and elusive Spirit.  It is in this context that John proclaims that just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness so that the people could see it and be healed and have new life, so Jesus was lifted up so that those who have faith in him might have eternal life and come to know God.

And for many of us here today, in the cross we might find the image or symbol for our spiritual inspiration and growth in wisdom.  We might spend time reflecting on its power to bring God’s love and salvation and new life to us.  Probably at least a few of us are wearing crosses this very day here in church because the importance of this symbol to us in our lives with Christ.  I myself am wearing a cross that is made out of nails wrapped together that was put together by children in a Sunday school class during Lent in a church I was serving one year and then presented to me by them during worship.  Because of that, it has real personal significance to me.

          But as fruitful as the cross might be for our reflection and inspiration, I’d like to turn our attention to another image or symbol of Christ in our passage, that of Christ as the light.  You might remember that it comes in at the end of the reading where John proclaims that the light (that is, Christ) has come into the world.  And you might also recall that this is not the first time that John has used the image of light to describe Christ.  For instead of using a birth story to tell us about how Christ came into the world, he says that in Christ was life and that life was the light of all people.  For that light shines in the night and that true light, which enlightens everyone, had come into the world.

          It’s a great image for Christ, because light is so important and powerful in our lives.  And I think that is especially true in the season of winter that we have been going through in these past months.  How many of us groan in the days of late December when the days are so short and the light seems to vanish from the sky so early.  Too many of us then leave for work in the darkness and return home after the sun has already set.  But yet how quickly do we rejoice in early January, when it seems like the sunlight is coming back to us by leaps and bounds each day.

          How wonderful does it feel on a cold winter morning after several gloomy, cloudy, depressing days in a row, to awake one morning and open our eyes to see the bright light of the sun returning, peaking its head over the horizon.  And then how our spirits can soar when later in the midst of a bright winter’s day its warmth brings us the promise of spring.  I’ll bet we’ve all stood in our yards, eyes closed, faces lifted up, our arms out stretched, just basking in the flood of warmth that light brings.

          Well, during these months when light has been so important to us, you may have noticed that the stories in our Bible readings have at incredibly important points also focused on the theme of light.  We have already mentioned that at Christmas time, when the church has chosen the exact time of increasing light in our world to celebrate the birth of Christ, we read of Jesus being the light who is coming into the world.  The same is true at the time of the Epiphany and Christ’s baptism, when this true light of God is revealed and manifested to the peoples and the world.

          Then early in February, there is an important holy day, which we don’t celebrate on Sunday, called the Feast of the Presentation, which focuses on the Bible story of Jesus being presented in the temple after his birth.  In it, the prophet Simeon takes Jesus in his arms and gives thanks that he has seen the savior sent by God , who is a light to the nations and the glory of Israel. On the Presentation, the whole theme is that of Christ as the light, symbolized in the radiant light of candles.  Finally, our church brings the season of the Epiphany to a close with a celebration of Christ’s transfiguration, when disciples see his clothing and face gleaming with the light of God’s presence and glory and behold is divine nature.

          Then today in the midst of Lent, Christ is again the true light of God that has come into the world.  Can we come today, at the invitation of the evangelist to join our wonder and delight in the light and warmth of the truly glorious winter we have experienced this year with the theme of Christ as light as well?  Can we come to have the same love and thankfulness and awareness of the presence of Christ’s life in our hearts and in our world as we do for the light of the sun?

          I want to close today by returning to the Bible passages that we’ve seen speak of Christ as light and try to help us unite these physical and spiritual senses of light by sharing a few reflections from devotional and spiritual writings from early Christian leaders that might inspire us.

          Speaking of Christ’s baptism, Gregory Nazianzus says, “Christ is bathed in light; let us also be bathed in light. Christ is baptized; let us also go down with him, and rise with him.  Today let us do honor to Christ’s baptism and celebrate this feast in holiness.  God wants us to be lights shining in the world.  You are to be radiant lights as you stand beside Christ, the great light.”

          For the Presentation of Christ in the temple, Sophronious of Jerusalem, says this.  “Let us all hasten to met Christ, and honor the divine mystery we celebrate today.  Let no on refuse to carry a light.  Our bright shining candles are a sign of the divine splendor of the one who comes to make the whole universe radiant with the brilliance of his eternal light. We should carry a light for all to see and reflect the radiance of the true light as we hasten to meet him.  For the light has come into the world and we carry our lights to show that the light has shown upon us.  So let us all hasten to meet Christ and sing a hymn of thanksgiving to our God.”

          And finally, in honor of the transfiguration, Anastasius of Sinai says, “Let us run with confidence and joy to enter into the cloud and be caught up to behold the divine vision and be transfigured.  For it is good for us to be here, to be with God and live in God’s light.  It is good for us to be here, who possess God in our hearts, where all things shine with divine radiance where there is joy and gladness and exultation, where there is in our hearts peace and serenity and stillness where God is seen.”

          Pay attention to light as you live your lives this week.  And let it remind you of Christ.  Let us see if we can bring the joy of the light of the sun and the light of Christ and join them together in our hearts this day, and leave this place with our spirits bathed in the radiance of them both.  Amen.  

Episcopal Tourist, St Luke's Cathedral Orlando

On the day of my final show in Orlando, I decided to attend St Luke's Cathedral a 15 minute walk from my hotel downtown. It was winter in Florida with a stiff wind and temps in the high 50s.

I arrived, was greeted warmly and went inside the magnificent sanctuary with its stained glass on both the ground and clerestory levels. Above the altar an elaborately carved crucifix was suspended just below a large round stained glass window. Light streamed in from above. Episcopal and US flags stood next to the pulpit and lector's sides. The choir and a large pipe organ were located in the rear balcony. There appeared to be 150-200 present.

There was silence before the opening acclimation followed by the decalogue with the familiar Healy Willan responses. Then followed the confession of sin and absolution. After this came the procession to a beautiful Kyrie (Link to youtube of that service) by Michael Miller . Only the priests, deacon, acolytes, and verger processed as the choir was already in place.

After the Genesis reading the Orlando Deanery Boychoir and Girls Choir sang "O for theWings of a Dove by Mendelssohn. What a glorious sound they made, pure and very strong! After the Epistle came the sequence hymn "Take up your Cross and follow me". There was no Gospel procession perhaps because of the season. The Deacon read the Mark Gospel.

Dean Clark gave the sermon. He compared Christianity to baseball spring training now going in in Orlando. All the players need to do is throw, hit, and catch the ball. The principle is simple but like Christianity, to actually do it well is very difficult. Jesus polls the crowd "Who am I? Peter says, you are the Messiah. Jesus is not what many think the Messiah would be, a conquering hero. Instead, he will be killed and rise again. To follow Jesus is simple, but not easy.

For Lent he suggests setting aside our agenda and following His. Take up the cross , identify with His humiliation. Visit a jail, feed the hungry. How well do you hear the voice of the Good Shepherd. Look to God for help in this difficult test. Temptation is hard to resist.

After the peace volunteers came down the aisle. Visitors were asked to identify themselves and we were given a lovely gift bag.

The anthem at the offertory was "Christ Hath a Garden" by Gerald Near, word by Robert Bridges

Christ hath a garden walled around,
A Paradise of fruitful ground,
Chosen by love and fenced by grace
From out the world's wide wilderness.

Like trees of spice his servants stand,
There planted by his mighty hand;
By Eden's gracious streams, that flow
To feed their beauty where they grow.

Awake, O wind of heav'n and bear
Their sweetest perfume through the air:
Stir up, O south, the boughs that bloom,
Till the beloved Master come:

That he may come, and linger yet
Among the trees that he hath set;
That he may evermore be seen
To walk amid the springing green.

The Eucharist was Rite I Prayer II. The Prayer of Humble Access was the old form including "Not worthy so much as to gather up the Crumbs under thy Table". It was definitely "High Church" with smells, bells and chanting all very well done.

The Communion anthem was "The Eyes of God" words and music by Benjamin Lane. This was sung with aching beauty and moved me very much. The organist played the hymns with imagination and skill on a wonderful instrument. It was a joy to sing with him.

The recessional was "The God of Abraham Praise". As the organist piled on registration I also ramped up my own volume. I am afraid I actually frightened the little girl in the pew in front of me. But as soon as the service ended, the lady sitting next to me engaged me in conversation. She was a member of the adult choir who were mostly taking the Sunday off. I was not able to speak to the family of the little girl as they left rather quickly. So I stayed for the rest of the postlude Bach's Fugue in B Minor. Afterwards I walked slowly out carrying my gift bag, which of course identified me as a visitor. There were groups of people talking as I left, but none looked up or spoke to me. The clergy had left by this time, possibly for a coffee hour to which I was not invited. I lingered briefly in the narthex and finally left. No one noticed.

I live in fear of this happening at our own church. But I hope it does not and we do try very hard. This service was beautifully done, anglo Catholicism at its best, truly wonderful music and liturgy in a magnificent space. And unlike last week the congregation were very engaged in participating. But their participation seemed very inward. What is the point of our beautiful liturgy if it does not transform hearts?