I have a small red book that I carry with me everywhere I go. The binding is worn, the cover is in leather, and some pages have folded corners with a little candle wax obscuring the words. This little red book is my Pastoral Care book, filled with prayers, scripture readings and worship services. When I visit a hospital, the book comes with me. When I'm sharing holy communion with someone at home, this is the book I use. And when I'm blessing a house or an apartment that someone has moved into, I'm holding this in my left hand and turning its pages with my right. This book holds prayers, but it also holds memories. It holds the memories of people I've known, buried, blessed and celebrated. This little book is more than just something to read—it is a physical reminder of who Jesus is and that Jesus is with us, always.

How do you remember that Jesus is with you? Do you carry a cross around your neck or maybe keep your grandmother's Bible on your nightstand? Or maybe a physical object isn't what stirs your faith. Maybe there's a song you hum, a melody that is always in the back of your mind. And with springtime in full force, maybe getting our hands dirty in our gardens connects us with our God who constantly creates. Or maybe we're inviting friends to sit on our porch or join us for a picnic. By being in each other's company, we give thanks that God brings friends, neighbors and even strangers into our lives because God is love. When we proclaim that God is with us, God is experienced in more than just one way. God is here. When we see the world, we're seeing more than just the scene in front of us. We're also seeing God's presence, too.

This May I invite you to see God's presence. Take a look at your children playing and notice God. Even when we're caught in traffic, God is there among the honks. Stop by the church on Tuesday nights, enter our Genesis Garden, and see God in the planting of vegetables that will feed our neighbors in need. And when our day is done and silence surrounds you, know that the air is filled with Jesus' love for you and for the entire world.

See you in church!
Pastor Marc

0 comments

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them as their God; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them; he will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away.” And the one who was seated on the throne said, “See, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this, for these words are trustworthy and true.” Then he said to me, “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life.

Revelation 21:1-6

Pastor Marc's sermon on the 5th Sunday of Easter (April 24, 2016) on Revelation 21:1-6. Listen to the recording here or read my manuscript below. 

****************************

“A frog and a bear seeing America” that’s the lead in a song from one of my favorite movies - The Muppet Movie. If you haven’t seen it, Kermit the Frog takes a road trip from the swamp he grew up into the bright lights of Hollywood. Along the way, he’s pursued by the evil Doc Hopper, a restaurateur with a chain for frog leg restaurants, who is hoping that Kermit will become his spokesfrog. Near the beginning of the film, Kermit runs into Fozzie Bear, a failed stand up comedian, and possibly the only bear in America who's earned their driver’s license through a correspondence course. The two partner up, with Fozzie driving, Kermit in the passenger seat, and plenty of room in the back of their 1951 Studebaker to carry all the other muppets that they’ll meet. And so, they head off, starting their journey by singing their song: “Movin’ Right Along.” 

Now, it’s a great song. Kermit’s playing his banjo, they can’t read a map, and it sounds like there’s a full orchestra just off screen, who happen to be following along. The two claim to know where they’re going - but the song shows otherwise. They somehow end up in Canada, pass by Rhode Island, notice the sun is rising in the west, and run into a snowstorm while suspiciously driving along some roads through what looks like Southern California. Kermit and Fozzie are “footloose and fancy-free” and in a song that lasts less than 3 minutes, they’re also literally all over the map. When we pay attention to the lyrics and what we see on the screen, none of it makes any logical sense. They can’t go to Rhode Island and Western Canada in just one verse. But what we see makes sense emotionally. We get a foretaste of this new and whacky journey that we get to go on with these two muppets who are ready for the big time - and wondering if the big time is ready for them. And that sense - that feeling - is a part of what our reading in Revelation is trying to do today. We hear a vision of heaven, a vision of the future, a vision of what happens when God comes to earth - but this vision, when we look at the verb tenses in this passage, doesn’t create a logical story. Instead we get an image of how we, right now, are caught up in God’s future and God’s future is already just movin’ right along.

Now, if you didn’t know, I received my undergraduate degree in engineering. When I was in high school, I dreamed about building things, writing computer programming code, and solving complex questions with thousands of variables. I didn’t plan on a career where I would be writing a few thousand woirds each week. If I had, I might have taken a few more English classes than I did. So, when I write, for example, articles for our newsletter, and even manuscripts for my sermons - verb tenses still throw me. Even when I’m careful, making sure each verb tense correctly shows when something happened or existed in the present, the future, or the past, I still slip up. I still need an editor to point out where I’ve gone wrong. 

So it’s surprising to see, in our scripture reading from Revelation today, these verb tenses that are all over the place. The passage starts with our author, John of Patmos, reporting to us after seeing a vision of God’s future. So this vision happened in the past. But this vision is of God’s future. So that’s..the future. And this text, written as a letter to 7 churches - 7 churches who would read this outloud during their worship services - well - that’s the present. So, in a sense, we’re caught in mixed of tenses. Past-present-and future are all mixed up here. John saw a new heaven, a new earth, and a new holy city descending from heaven and landing smack-dab on the face of the earth. But then a voice declares - that God’s home is - right now - among mortals. This same voice then moves into the future - a future where God will dwell with people, live with them, and where God will wipe away every tear. And then, suddenly, we’re back in the past, with John telling us who he saw on the throne of the universe. And then this one on the throne, who is God, tells John - tells us - that God is making all things new, right now, and that God will, in the future, give water from the spring of life as a gift to all. This is a lot of tenses. This is a lot to see and hear at once. This also gets a little confusing - like reading a map upside down or expecting a sunset and seeing a sunrise instead. 

But a God of all tenses - a God where the past-the present-and the future are all wrapped into one - that’s John’s God. That’s the image that John is painting for us. A God of all-tenses isn’t a God who is far-off, like some distant star, who cares little about the details of our daily lives. A God of all-tenses isn’t a God who is hidden, waiting for a series of pre-determined events to just...happen...in an almost myth like way before God, finally, shows up. A God of all-tenses isn’t only a God of the past, a God for yesterday’s people but who has nothing to say today. A God-of-all-tenses is a God who cares about our past, who loves us in our present, and who leads us into God’s future. This is a God who is active. This is a God who, even when we can’t see it, is breaking into our reality. A God of all tenses isn’t going to rapture people up to heaven but is, instead, going to step off the throne and come-on-down. A theology that claims that God is waiting to take the right kind of people up to heaven ignores this God of all tenses because a God-of-all-tenses cares about us in all of our tenses- our past, present, and our future - too. 

Now, we all have our pasts. We all have our own roadtrip that we call life. We have our stories, experiences, and those times when we’ve forgotten God or when God is just not on our radar. We’ve all built our own walls, forcing our loved ones, our friends, our neighbors, and even strangers to pay for them in a multitude of ways. We’ve made choices. We’ve done wonderful things. We’ve even loved others too. But we’ve hurt others - and others have hurt us. Our past is ours - and that matters to a God-of-all-tenses. A God of all tenses doesn’t ignore our past - but instead, our God doesn’t let us stay there. God sees our junk - sees the junk we’ve experienced, created, or that junk that’s just been thrown at us. God sees all of it - and doesn’t let it be our final world, our future tense. Because God is in the business of dwelling with us today and living in the world right now. God is busy breaking in - like a new city, coming down from heaven, and making all things new. That newness includes us. That newness includes those we’ve hurt. And that newness includes those who’ve hurt us too.

When Kermit and Fozzie sing this song - they’re near the start of their adventure. They still have people to see, muppets to run into, and they’re heading to an epic showdown with Doc Hopper, a gang of hired goons, and the biggest Animal we’ve ever seen. Their story is just beginning. And our story, whether we’re 2 or 92, is just beginning too. The God that dwells with us, the Jesus that grabs us in our baptism and doesn’t let go, that’s our Fozzie, that’s our Kermit, in the Studebaker that is our lives. And whatever comes at us - whatever ordeal we face - none of that can undo that we are loved by a God who is in all our tenses - in our past, in our present, and in our future. At the end of “Movin’ Right Along,” Fozzie and Kermit wonder if the big time - if Hollywood and all its fame and fortune are ready for them. John of Patmos, in these last chapters of Revelation, shares that our future, our past, and our present are wrapped in God’s future; a future where the tears we shed are wiped away by the One who created us, redeemed us, and lives with us, right now, even in our broken lives and in our broken world. Our roadtrip is God’s and God’s roadtrip is our roadtrip too. So when we head out, facing our days, facing our world, and facing our lives - we can go footloose and fancy free, knowing that no matter what comes along, the God of our past, the God of our present, and the God of our future is with us - so that we can keep movin’ right along. 

Amen.
 

0 comments

Our First Reading is 1 Kings 17:1-16.

The kingdom that David founded is now split in two. After Solomon's death, the Northern Kingdom and Southern Kingdom split. In book of Kings (1st and 2nd Kings) shares the history of both kingdoms. Both Kingdoms will ebb and flow in the world of politics. They will occasionally fight against each other, unite against common enemies, and sometimes sit on the sidelines while the other kingdom is at war. Located in between the large empires that develop in what is now Iraq and Egypt, the kingdoms are always at war. And it's in the middle of this reality that Elijah appears.

Elijah appears suddenly. We don't know he's coming until he shows up. We know nothing about his childhood and we're still not sure exactly what town he came from. Instead, he heads to the Northern Kingdom and visits King Ahab. He stands before the king and says, because of the Northern Kingdom's idolatry, no rain will fall. He's pronouncement made, Elijah runs for safety while a drought and famine strike the land. He then receives a word from God to leave his hiding spot and cross into enemy territory. He heads to Sidon (in modern day Lebanon) and meets a widow at the entrance to the town. Her food supply is short but Elijah demands that she share. She does and her oil and grain refuse to run out. God not only provides for Elijah. God also provides for this foreigner and her child. 

Elijah and his student Elisha are the center of the story of the book of Kings (1 and 2 Kings) Elijah is a larger than life figure who becomes the herald to the Messiah (see John the Baptist). His prophetic voice and story will focus on who the God of Israel is. This God, for Elijah, is a God who provides. In the prophetic battles between Elijah and the prophets of other gods, the God of Israel always provides while the others do not. Elijah's mission, in some ways, is to turn people away from themselves and towards the one who provides life. His mission is still our mission as we struggle to turn ourselves towards the source of our life. May Elijah's voice continue to speak to us, turning us to Jesus, our center and our life.  

0 comments

Today's First Reading is 1 Kings 6:1-2,11-14, 19-22, 37-38.

Today's first reading depicts the building of the temple. One of David's sons, Solomon, has ascended the throne. The kingdom is still united and Solomon's reign will be filled with giant building projects. God tells Solomon to finally build the Temple. The Temple will replace what the tabernacle was before. Instead of God promising to be only where the people go, God is now promising to be with the people as the live, and die, in cities and villages. Our reading today covers the construction of the outside of the complex. In parts we don't hear today, the measurements of the walls, the type of wood, and the kind of stone are described. A rear-chamber, an inner-sanctum is described, where the ark of the covenant will be placed. The room will be covered in gold and cedar, both very previous in the time of ancient Israel. It takes 7 years to complete the temple (7 is usually the biblical number for 'perfection' and 'completeness'). 

During the building, God makes a promise we've heard before. God promises Solomon that, as long as they keep God's ways, God will be with the people. If the situation changes, then God will leave. That idea of presence is central to the biblical narrative. Being in the presence of God matters. Without God's presence, the promise for life falters. This was already seen in the story of the Exodus where God doesn't just lead the people with a pillar of fire but has a tent built so God can live among the people. Now with the people settled, a more permanent structure is built. 

The Temple isn't, however, the only place God can be. Rather the Temple is (in my reading at least) the spot where God promises to be. If we want to see God, that is where we go. If we want a relationship with the divine, we head to the Temple. If we want an assurance of being in God's presence, we go to the spot where God promises to dwell. God can, and does, interact us in many different ways and in many different places. But when our soul needs a grounded assurance, a physical place we can go to helps. 

As Christians, the physical place we go to experience God isn't at a temple. Isn't only at a church. Instead, as Jesus claims, where two or three are gathered, God is there. Where people gather intentionally to be in the presence of Jesus, Jesus promises to join them. God's presence isn't just a place. God's presence is also tied to the people who gather. Without people, a church building isn't a church. Community, gathered around God's words and what Jesus gives us, is where Jesus promises to be. So let's experience Jesus in this place today.

0 comments

After this I looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, robed in white, with palm branches in their hands. They cried out in a loud voice, saying, “Salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb!” And all the angels stood around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures, and they fell on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, singing, “Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen.”

Then one of the elders addressed me, saying, “Who are these, robed in white, and where have they come from?” I said to him, “Sir, you are the one that knows.” Then he said to me, “These are they who have come out of the great ordeal; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. For this reason they are before the throne of God, and worship him day and night within his temple, and the one who is seated on the throne will shelter them. They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

Revelation 7:9-17

Pastor Marc's sermon on the Fourth Sunday of Easter (April 17, 216) on Revelation 7:9-17. Listen to the recording here or read my manuscript below. 

****************************

Now, I don’t know about you but when I’m asked a question by someone who already knows the answer, and they’re not a teacher, or a mentor,….I find that to be pretty annoying. Like, when we’re with a colleague, or a friend, or our spouse, and they experience something but instead of sharing what it is or what it’s about - they instead ask us a question about it. They’re taking a moment, an experience, and turning it into a test. I always feel like I’m being asked to admit that there’s something in this world I don’t know - so that the other person can, for a moment at least, feel like they’re better than me. It’s hard not to get mad when this happens. A friend of mine, when this kind of thing happens to her, immediately responds to such a question with “Don’t quiz me!” Because that’s what these type of questions are - they’re a pop-quiz, given to us when we’re not expecting a test. So, in our reading from Revelation today, when the elder addressed John, asking him about those who are robed in white - I give props to John for his answer. We know that this elder knows the answer. But John plays it cool. He doesn’t get mad or tell the elder not to quiz him. Instead, John waits. He let’s the elder paint a picture of what John is seeing. And that’s one thing that the book of Revelation does. Our author, John of Patmos, like some first century Bob Ross, speaks in image. John uses words to paint pictures, igniting our imagination with intense and vibrant images. We see more than just happy little clouds and trees. Instead, we get an image like today. We’re there, among this huge group of people, a group so large, it can’t be counted. The group is full of all kinds of people - people from every nation, every race, every ethnic group, and who speak every language. John is painting a picture where every kind of person that we know and see - and even those we don’t know and can’t see - they’re all here, gathered around God, and robed in white. 

Our reading today is a continuation of what we heard last week. We saw an image of God’s throne room, filled with songs, and with Jesus standing in the middle, holding a scroll in his hand. Now, John’s vision describes this scroll as having 7 seals. No one else, but Jesus, can open it. The scroll is sealed tight - unbreakable - completely encrypted - and only Jesus has the key. So in the text that we don’t hear today, Jesus starts opening the scroll. The seals start breaking. And each time one is snapped off, something epic happens. And this is where Revelation gets the reputation that it does as a playbook for the end of the world. The first seal is broken - and one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse shows up. He’s riding a pale white horse, with a massive bow, ready to conquer all. The next three seals bring his friends. There’s one on a bright red horse, carrying a giant sword, and all peace between the nations on the earth ends. He’s followed by a rider on a black horse, who plunges the world in hunger and thirst. And they’re all followed by Death - the only horsemen in the bible to actually have a name. And he uses his powers to destroy one quarter of the world. One by one, as the seals break, calamity and violence come. This part of Revelation sounds, and reads, like something Michael Bay would try to film and put on the big screen. This is an end of the world that needs to be seen on an IMAX screen, in 3D, filled with epic scenery, amazing villains, incredible special effects, and as we sit there, munching our popcorn and drinking our oversized sodas, we’re left in awe. One by one, the seals fall. One by one, the violence escalates. Once the sixth seal is broken, we can’t wait to see what comes next. 

But before the 7th seal is broken, we get our reading from today. The story almost stops. That blockbuster Hollywood climax is going to wait because John is taken back to God’s throne room, to see who all the servants of God - past, present, and future - are. And this is what John sees: “a great multitude that no one could count - from every nation, from all tribe and peoples and languages,... robed in white.” This immense group, countless beyond number, they are all gathered around Jesus, and all they can do is worship and sing. 

Now, I’m no expert when it comes to doing laundry - but, from my experience, it’s usually not possible for robes to turn white after they’ve been through blood. The commercials for laundry detergent on tv show us how to get blood out of our clothes, not soak clothes in it. But those white robes aren’t as strange as they first seem. The churches John wrote Revelation to - they recognized those robes. They knew those robes. They knew how they felt, what they were made out of, and how bright they shimmered in candlelight. The people who first heard Revelation - knew these robes because each one of them, no matter where they came from or what language they spoke, each person wore one. In the early church, after someone was baptized, they were dressed in white robes. They had been washed - brought into Jesus’ family - not because they were perfect but because Jesus died for them. The robes were a gift from the community to the newly baptized, a symbol of the forgiveness, mercy, and love given to them by Jesus Christ. The poor and rich, the small and large, the young and old - each wore the same white robe - a reminder that in Christ Jesus, they were one. They showed that God’s family is a family so diverse - so huge - so unlimited that no one race, or gender, or language could limit what God’s family looks like. In the middle of describing what seems like the end of the world, John’s vision takes a step back to remind him - to remind those who first heard his words - and to remind us, 2000 years later, just who we are. We are God’s. And in our baptism, we belong to Christ - and there’s no person on earth that can change that. 

Now, these multitudes are caught in the act of worship. And their worship, like our worship, involves song. So they sing these beautiful verses of chapter 7, 15 through 17. And they’re almost too beautiful to even describe. I’ll admit, as I tried to write this part of my sermon, I spent most of my time just hitting the delete key. My words can’t do justice to what this vision holds or what God’s promise means. God’s promise here isn’t telling John that the faithful will escape or be spared struggle. A life of faith means that we will have our ordeals. We’ll have our struggles. We’ll have our doubts. And we’ll have things happen to us - or things we do to others that will break our heart - and will break God’s heart too. A life of faith includes failures. A life of faith includes not knowing what to do next. A life of faith includes tears. But in the failure, in the heartbreak, and in the tears, God is still there because God’s love is big enough to hold all our tears. 

That’s the image of God that John is trying to paint in the book of Revelation. This God who is stronger than any Empire, who is more powerful than any army, and who can unleash the end of the world, this God is the same God who sent Jesus to live a human life, to heal the sick, bring good news to the poor, to bring comfort to the afflicted and to afflict the comfortable. This Jesus didn’t run away from tears. He shed them too. God sent Jesus to bring hope to a world where tears sometimes outnumber songs. And this hope isn’t a pop-quiz from God. We’re not being put on notice by someone who already knows the answer and is seeing if we’ll be able to get everything right. The book of Revelation is painting a picture - painting a picture of who God is - what God’s people look like - and that God knows all our tears. In our struggles, God is with us. In our challenges, Jesus is there. We have been robed in white. We are part of God’s vision for the world. The violence and pain and suffering in the world - suffering that we’ll experience and suffering that we’ll cause - none of that is part of God’s song. It’s not what the multitudes, gathered around Jesus, sing. Their song - their vision of God’s dream for the world - that’s our song too. A hope and a prayer that the world loves like Jesus loves, that we would spend less time causing tears and more time wiping them away. And a hope that we will sing like Jesus’ people sing - not running away from our ordeals but singing through them because we are with Christ - and that changes everything. 

Amen. 
 

0 comments

Then I saw between the throne and the four living creatures and among the elders a Lamb standing as if it had been slaughtered, having seven horns and seven eyes, which are the seven spirits of God sent out into all the earth. He went and took the scroll from the right hand of the one who was seated on the throne. When he had taken the scroll, the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders fell before the Lamb, each holding a harp and golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of the saints. They sing a new song: “You are worthy to take the scroll and to open its seals, for you were slaughtered and by your blood you ransomed for God saints from every tribe and language and people and nation; you have made them to be a kingdom and priests serving our God, and they will reign on earth.” Then I looked, and I heard the voice of many angels surrounding the throne and the living creatures and the elders; they numbered myriads of myriads and thousands of thousands, singing with full voice, “Worthy is the Lamb that was slaughtered to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!” Then I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea, and all that is in them, singing, “To the one seated on the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever!” And the four living creatures said, “Amen!” And the elders fell down and worshiped.

Revelation 5:6-14

Pastor Marc's sermon on the Third Sunday of Easter (April 10, 216) on Revelation 5:6-14. Listen to the recording here or read my manuscript below. 

****************************

A few years ago, two Lutheran pastors I knew were setting off on a new adventure. At the invitation of the Lutheran Church in Romania, they were leaving the United States to start a brand new English-speaking church in the town of Cluj. They were leaving everything they knew to be part of what God is doing on the other side of the world. As the date for their departure neared, a little church service was held to commission them as missionaries. Now, I don’t remember a lot of the service but I do remember the singing. I was sitting in a pew with a few friends and there was someone behind me who I didn’t know well. I knew they were a pastor - and they were kind, tall, boisterous, and very fun to be around. But I didn’t know that they could sing. And by sing, I mean sing loud. And this was great because the worship service was filled with hymns I didn’t know. When these kinds of hymns showed up, I was...quiet because I didn’t know how they went. But not this other guy. Even if he didn’t know the tune, he sang. He sang loud. His voice is so large and deep, that even without a mic, you could still hear him in the parking lot outside. He was so loud that I couldn’t hear myself sing. And that... was incredibly freeing. So what if I didn’t know the tune? No one could hear me anyways so I just sang out, as loud as I could. I wasn’t singing well - but I could sing loud because my voice was being overpowered by the larger voice behind me. Supported by that largeness, that fullness, I was empowered. With some new found gumption, that large voice let me sing boldly and loudly. 

Singing and song - so much of our life as a church revolves around those two things. When we gather together to worship, there’s just something that makes us sing. Ever our order of worship reflects that. It doesn’t matter if we can’t carry a tune. One of the first things we do each Sunday morning is sing. When we’re in God’s presence - surrounded by God’s people - the only thing we can do is sing. And we see that in our reading from the book of Revelation today. All of heaven is gathered around God. There are too many angels and creatures and divine beings to even count. Everybody is there - gathered around the throne of God. And all they can do is sing. 

Last week, when we started this journey through Revelation, I mentioned that we should keep an eye on our image of Jesus and what Jesus looks like in the book of Revelation. This book is really a letter, written by a man named John, directed towards seven churches located in what is today Turkey. Last week, we heard the very start of the letter. But today, we’re in chapter 5, at the start of John’s vision of what’s to come. In the text between last Sunday and today, John has been offering a word of advice and a word of comfort to these seven churches. It seems they are under great pressure and are being attacked in someway. These communities are wondering what’s going on, where’s God, and what are they to do next. So after some words of comfort, John moves immediately into the next part of his letter, the part that is filled with fantastic images, epic scenes, and over-the-top experiences. It’s in this part of the letter that some Christians see a roadmap or a playbook about how the end of the world comes. These giant battles and imaginative scenes are so big, that even Peter Jackson, director of the Lord of the Rings film series, even he couldn’t showcase everything Revelation has to offer. But before the battles and the so-called end of the world, John describes the first thing he sees in his vision. He sees God’s throne room. If God was located in only one place, and God had a palace or a mansion or a penthouse apartment on 5th avenue, this - chapter 4 and 5 - is what that place would look and sound like. The Father is there, so is the Son, as well as angels and other divine beings. And what are they doing? They’re singing. And the text today doesn’t say if they sang well. I mean, I guess we can assume that if anyone can sing well, it’s probably angels. But the text doesn’t talk about the beauty of their singing. The text focuses on the fullness - the loudness - how every nook and cranny in that space is filled with song and there’s no spot that is silent. And after Jesus, this lamb who was slaughtered, is acknowledged and pointed to - that’s when John notices others singing as well. The songs around Jesus - around this one who was killed but who triumphed because God’s love can’t be defeated - when Jesus is around, everything - “every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea:” everything sings. This massive song isn’t a song only for tomorrow. John isn’t describing what’s going to happen next, what’s only going to happen in the future. John is describing what’s going on, right now, in God’s reality. Jesus was born. Jesus lived. Jesus loved. And Jesus was killed. And now, this lamb who was slaughtered, he’s in charge. He’s in control. And that’s why everyone sings. God’s son appeared so powerless on the cross but in his death, and through God’s love, he rose, promising all of us that we are part of something bigger. Our story and God’s story are linked. Our story and Jesus’ story are the same. The life he lives is the life we now have. Revelation isn’t a book that’s only about the future. Revelation is a book about the victory Jesus has already won. Our salvation, our relationship, through Jesus and in faith, is secure. And there’s no authority on earth that can change that. God’s love for us can’t be overturn by those around us - no matter how hard they try. God gave us that love - and, in our baptism, we’re part of how God is loving the world. No matter what others do or say - we are part of how God is reconciling the world to Godself. The story ends in God’s love and that’s why God sent Jesus into the world and why God sends us too. So how can we love like Jesus loved? And just what does that look like?

Those questions - that discovery of love - is how God transforms us into a song for the world. [And It’s what God is doing today for Riley too. Riley is being added to God’s song] [God’s song is our song] - a song that is sung through our words and our voices, a song that is sung through our acts of love and acts of kindness, a song that is sung when we are a Christ for our neighbors even when we don’t have a dog in their fight. And even when we don’t know the words, even if the tune we hear isn’t like anything we’ve experienced before, we sing it with confidence and boldness because Christ loves us. And this love isn’t just louder than ours, it also empowers us, to love each other, and the world. The lamb who was slaughtered is teaching us a new song. This Jesus who lives is teaching us to sing. We, like the myriads of myriads who came before us and who will come after us and who are singing, right now, around God’s throne, we are here to love - and to sing God’s love song to the entire world.

Amen. 
 

0 comments

Our first reading is 2 Samuel 5:1-7,9-10.

Jerusalem wasn't always an Israelite city. Even after the Israelites moved into the Promised Land (Canaan), Jerusalem remained a city in someone else's hands. When David arrives at the gates of the city, it is own by the Jebusites. Not much is known about them but scholars believe they were not the original founders of the city and probably lived in the city only a short time before David arrived. David, after a successful series of military victories, is crowned king at the city of Hebron. Although Scripture doesn't tell us initially why he marched to Jerusalem, later chapters will make evident that David was being politically astute in this choice. He picked a city that no one tribe had claim over. The city, also, is close to the traditional border between the Northern and Southern tribes and is also very defensible. With the city secure, David begins to fortify his new capital, turning Jerusalem into the city of David. 

With Jerusalem's capture, the city begins to be the political and religious center for ancient Israel. Even after a later civil war and the splitting of the kingdom into two (The Kingdom of Judah, centered around Jerusalem, and the Kingdom of Israel centered in the North), the religious focus for the rest of scripture is Jerusalem. Even when we meet prophets who preach only in the Northern Kingdom, we read their stories with Jerusalem-oriented eyes. As Christians, we hold Jerusalem close because it was the site of Jesus' death, resurrection, and where the early church community first gathered. We also see in Jerusalem a hope for tomorrow. The end of Revelation, the last book in our scriptures, points to the heavenly Jerusalem descending to the earth. 

Jerusalem is more than a city. Jerusalem is where Jesus walked and God promises to dwell. Jerusalem is a city of hope, a vision of what God is working in us and in our world through Jesus Christ. David's capture of Jerusalem is leading us to the vision of Revelation 21, the new Jerusalem, where God dwells among us. This vision of the future isn't only for the future. It's also a vision for the present. We aren't only Christians. We are also a people of the Resurrection and of God's unfolding future. Jesus isn't just for tomorrow. Jesus is also here, today, in our world and in our lives. The heavenly Jerusalem started with David's work but continues in us because we are, through baptism, bound with the God of yesterday, today, and tomorrow. The new Jerusalem is here so let's live like it truly is.

0 comments

The revelation of Jesus Christ, which God gave him to show his servants what must soon take place; he made it known by sending his angel to his servant John, who testified to the word of God and to the testimony of Jesus Christ, even to all that he saw.

Blessed is the one who reads aloud the words of the prophecy, and blessed are those who hear and who keep what is written in it; for the time is near. John to the seven churches that are in Asia: Grace to you and peace from him who is and who was and who is to come, and from the seven spirits who are before his throne, and from Jesus Christ, the faithful witness, the firstborn of the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth. To him who loves us and freed us from our sins by his blood, and made us to be a kingdom, priests serving his God and Father, to him be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen. Look! He is coming with the clouds; every eye will see him, even those who pierced him; and on his account all the tribes of the earth will wail. So it is to be. Amen. “I am the Alpha and the Omega,” says the Lord God, who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty.

Revelation 1:1-8

Pastor Marc's sermon on 2nd Sunday of Easter (April 3, 2016) on Revelation 1:1-8. Listen to the recording here or read my manuscript below. 

****************************

Did anyone this week say something that, after you heard it, you wished you thought of that? Or maybe they shared an insight we’ve had before but expressed it in such a way that left us a little bit in awe? Well, this week, that happened to me. I was looking over the gospel reading today - this story about a disciple named Thomas who wasn’t there when Jesus showed up to visit his friends. And someone else, looking at this text, shared a thought I know I’ve had but one I’ve never articulated in 140 characters or less. They looked at Jesus, visualized him, made an image of who he is in this text - and they saw that Jesus today, “doesn’t show up with scars. He’s still wounded.” Even after his resurrection, Jesus’ wounds from the crucifixion are still there. And all I could think was “I wish I thought of that.” Because they’re right. It isn’t enough to only say that Jesus is still wounded. When we share that Jesus doesn’t have scars either - we uncover a little bit more of just who this Jesus is. He is the Son of God. He is resurrected from the dead. He is fully alive but the wounds inflicted on him during his life are still there. The signs of his life - a life lived with brokenness and joy, laughter and trouble, temptation and holiness - those wounds are still there. This isn’t an image of a resurrected Jesus who looks like his best self. He’s still broken; he’s still pierced. But his wounds don’t have the final word on who he is. The image of Jesus in this gospel is a Jesus who, after his death, still carries the signs of death. But he is now so full of life, his story doesn’t end. And that’s image of Jesus - a Jesus still wounded but now more than alive - that’s the image we need with us, in our back pocket, when we start to take a look at one of the strangest books of the entire bible - the book of Revelation. 

Now, for the next six weeks, our 2nd reading will come from the book of Revelation. It's the last book in our bible, written by a guy named John while he’s living on an island called Patmos, located a little bit off the coast of modern day Turkey. Now, tradition says that this John is the same John who wrote the Gospel according to John but that’s debatable. There’s not a whole lot in the gospel or in Revelation that hints that both authors the same. Instead, we have two authors for two works and one of them is named John, and he’s sitting on an island. And while he’s on that island, feels compelled to write a letter to seven communities, seven churches, that he has a relationship with. So that's what the book of Revelation is: a letter between friends, a letter between a pastor, teacher, disciple and the churches he knows and loves. And John starts his letter by painting a picture of just who his Jesus is. 

And we see that in the titles for Jesus that John uses. What follows isn’t only a vision from the Son of God. This Jesus is also the faithful witness, the firstborn of the dead, and the ruler over all the other kings on earth. This Jesus who died and was resurrected is still active, using messengers, angels, and even a guy named John to connect with God’s people on earth. Jesus is that faithful witness who never turned back from his calling to show the world just how much God loves it and its many peoples. Jesus was also the first born from the dead - but he won’t be the last. And finally, there’s no king on earth, no general, no Emperor in Rome, more powerful than he. This is an image of Jesus that is strong - mighty - powerful, and above all, victorious in all that he does. This is an image of Jesus who is a savior that kicks butt and always wins. And if this is our vision of Jesus - Revelation becomes a book looking for victory. It becomes a book about choosing sides, about good versus evil, and a book centered around battle and bloodshed. If this-kind-of-Victory Jesus is our Jesus, than Revelation becomes a playbook to try and find where the bad guys might be today so that we can match up people and places with the fantastical images in Revelation that are about to come. Once we figure out who is who and what is what, the future God promises will finally be on it’s way. A Victory Jesus looks, hopes, and prays for a victory that’s just about to come. 

But John’s Jesus isn’t looking for victory. That victory has already come. Jesus is the Son of God. He is the faithful witness. And he is the ruler over all kings. But this king, this warrior, this Son of God, - he died. He’s been pierced. And when given the chance, he showed his wounds, not his scars, to his friends. Jesus is a faithful witness to who God is and what God promises. Whatever tribulations, trials, and struggles they are going through, God sees them, understands them, and still loves them. God isn’t waiting to for a victory over the earth and humanity. Instead, God lived in humanity, as a person because God’s love couldn’t do anything less. John’s Jesus isn’t looking for a victory that’s about to come. John’s Jesus knows that even after humanity nailed him to the Cross, God’s love still won. The victory over death, the victory over sin, the victory over our disconnect from God - that’s already won. And Jesus has the wounds to prove it. 

I believe that we all carry our own images of Jesus. And wel probably carry more than one. Some of these images are easy to point to and easy to share. Others are much harder to describe. And when a faith moment happens - our images of Jesus come out. Now, these images come from all sorts of places. We learn them from our church, from our Sunday School, from the image of Jesus that our parents modeled for us, and our friends inspire in us. We see Jesus in art, and films, through music, and tv. And I like to imagine that these images of Jesus are images we keep in our back pocket. So when our faith moments happen, we slip these images of Jesus on, fitting them over our eyes and mind like some faith-based kaleidoscopes, trying to make sense of what we’re seeing or experiencing. Sometimes the images work - and we’re able to learn, grow, and come to some sort of peace with what’s happened. But other times, what we experience shatters whatever image of Jesus we carry. Living means we’ll wonder. We’ll question. We’ll have doubts and concerns and prayers that feel unanswered. A life with faith is a life where our images of Jesus are constantly challenge, upended, changed, and refined. A life with a faith that is lived is a life whose faith continues to evolve, eb, flow, and change. [And this is the life that we, together, are inviting Alex into today. He’s not only being joined to the body of Christ - he’s also being joined to that life of faith that is full of questions, doubts, struggles, and concerns. We know that we, as this community of faith, will give him images of Jesus that will feed his life, grow his faith, hold him in dark times - and we also know these images will sometimes fail and will grow cold.] But there is no image of Jesus that is bigger than who Jesus is. The images we carry in our back pocket, these images that we form and forge through a life we live, they can never fully unwrap and unravel all of who Jesus is. He is the faithful witness. He is the first born from the dead. He is the Son of God. And he is the one who calls us by our name, in our baptism, to live out his love, and see the world through his eyes. This Jesus who is wounded yet still whole; this Jesus who carries the signs of death but who is more than alive; he has turned us from our disconnect with God. The victory is already here. God’s future is now. The wounded-yet-unscarred Savior has made us, we who are wounded and scarred by what we’ve done and by what’s been done to us, we are part of his mission in this world. We struggle to grasp and hold on to an image of Jesus that contains all of who he is. But this Jesus is, with God’s grace, God’s love, and God’s hope and revelation, Jesus is changing us so that we, who are wounded, can live and love and reflect his a more perfect image of just who He truly is. 

Amen.   
 

0 comments

Our Year with the Bible reading (reflected in our first reading in worship today) is bringing us into the kings of Ancient Israel. After the confederation of tribes collapsed at the end of Judges, Saul is eventually crowned as the first king of Israel. However, his rule does not last long. Originally chosen by God, he's eventually rejected. His descent is not about being evil. Instead, he is a tragically marred character who, near the end of his rule, obsesses with the next king in line: David.

Our reading from 1 Samuel begins with God speaking to Samuel, telling him to go and find the next king of Israel. God doesn't tell Samuel who that king will be. Instead Samuel, like the reader of the text, has to discover who God has chosen. Samuel visits a household filled with 7 sons. Each son, eldest first and descending through birth order, parades before Samuel. When Samuel sees each son, he is sure that God has appointed this one as the next king of Israel. But each time Samuel sees a son, God doesn't speak. Samuel hears nothing. After the parade, Samuel speaks up. He asks if there's another son. The youngest son is shepherding the flock. He is young, with no hope for an inheritance. Instead, while the other sons are entertaining Samuel, David is taking care of others. This imagery of a king as a shepherd is an important one. A king was, by default, a shepherd of the people. Even Moses, when he ran into the wilderness after he struck an Egyptian, became a shepherd. When Samuel arrives to discover the next king of Israel, he forgets to look where a king is supposed to be.

The story of David isn't only the story of the birth of a king. The story of David shows the complexity of the human life. Even as a beloved servant of God, David is not perfect. Once his hold on the monarchy is secure, he will fall victim to a lust for power. He will forget who he is and his relationship with the one who chose him to be king. The life of David becomes the model for how each of the future kings of Israel will live their lives. Power, control, and sin will cause each of them to forget God. And when God is forgotten, sin starts to win.

0 comments

Spring is starting flower! As I write this, the first blooms of the season are appearing at the house where I live. The grass is turning green, trees are starting to bud, and yellows, blues, whites, and purples are making themselves known. The signs of new birth are all around. It's beautiful.  

This new birth is also exciting. This is my first spring in my new house which means I have no idea what plants are going to come out of the ground. The previous owners planted bulbs and shrubs during their fifty years there. Even though the lawn started to overgrow these last few years, their tender love and care for where they lived is now mine. My family and I have inherited their handy work. Each day, as we watch robins, blue jays, and cardinals fly through the trees, my kids and I discover a new flowering gift. Each flower is unexpected. Each bloom is brand new to us. Each plant is an opportunity to give thanks for the hands that planted it and to celebrate the new life that has come forth. 

Unexpected flowering gifts; that's what the Easter season is about. The door to the tomb is open. Jesus couldn't stay locked inside. Like the flowers blooming in my garden, Jesus' coming forth from the ground was unexpected and exciting. Even his close friends didn't know what would happened. Even Jesus' followers didn't really believe him when he said he would return. When the cold ground covered him up, the disciples thought they knew what would come next. They didn't expect that the new life given to us by Jesus is going to be exactly that: life. 

This Easter season, let's give thanks for those unexpected gifts in our lives. Let's see the flowers, the buds, and notice that God's future is already here. Jesus has broken through the ground so we, in our lives and in our world, can too. 

See you in church!

Pastor Marc

0 comments