Where Do We Start?

Easter 7A; Acts 1:6-14; John 17:1-11 St. Paul’s Smithfield, NC 5/28/17

Jim Melnyk: “Where Do We Start?”

It’s tough living between times.  Between the hard work of an interview and hopefully a job offer.  Between an argument with someone you love and respect and an opportunity to make up.  Between finding out you’re going to be a parent and actually learning the reality of it all.  Between the proverbial rock and a hard place….  It can be tough living in between times. 

The Seventh Sunday of Easter is all about between times.  Just a few days ago the Church celebrated the Feast of the Ascension – Jesus ascending to be at the right hand of God in all his glory.  Today’s lesson from Acts is sort of a carry-over for those who didn’t have the opportunity to mark that occasion liturgically.  But on the other hand, our gospel lesson pulls us back to the upper room prior to the betrayal and arrest of Jesus – prior to his death and resurrection.  It brings us to a place where Jesus tries to prepare his disciples for living in the between times of their faith.

It’s easy to simply skip over the Ascension – to see it as one more instance of our faith tradition being so outside the box of our normal experience that it doesn’t make sense.  Ascended?  Really?  Up through the clouds and all? The Ascension, as we’ve received it through Scripture and the traditions of the church, is not just difficult to understand, but it is difficult to picture – since much of our ancient artwork was created with a three-tiered universe in mind.  Heaven, and God, was seen to be “up there” somewhere.  We still use that language about God, don’t we?  We’ve looked to the heavens and seen their beauty through the gaze of the Hubble telescope and more – but we don’t see heaven anywhere in the skies. 

But the Ascension, even with its metaphorical “up there,” does solve a problem for us. “Where is the body of this man, who was bodily raised from the grave?” asks one commentator (Jayson Byassee, Sojourners Online, Preaching the Word, 5/28/2017).  The implied answer is that Jesus has in some way left our experiential plain of reality. “And,” the writer continues, [the Ascension] “makes a promise. Jesus will [return just] like that—as weirdly and as physically as he left (Acts 1:11).”  And so, there’s one of those crazy, hard to figure, hard to live out, between times.  The time between Christ’s resurrection from the dead and his coming again in glory to bring to fulfillment the kingdom of God on earth.

In the meantime, there is work to do.  In the between time of the resurrection and the return of Christ there is work to do – there is Good News to proclaim – there is the hope and promise of resurrection power to claim, to live out in this world, and to share.  “The gospel has to go to all the world: Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and the ends of the earth. That is, as endless sermons have explored, your home (Jerusalem), your nearest relations and friends (Judea), your enemies (Samaria), and everybody else” (Byassee).  However, Jesus doesn’t leave us on our own to carry out the work of the gospel.  Jesus promises his disciples that his Spirit – the Holy Spirit of God –

will clothe them from on high, giving them the wisdom and the power to proclaim Good News.  So we have another between-time for the disciples according to Luke – the time spent waiting for the promised Spirit of God to arrive – the promise that is Pentecost.

The idea of God’s Holy Spirit coming upon them had to be a jaw-dropping promise – an astounding promise! “And [in response to that incredulous possibility] the disciples [run home and] ... pray. That’s it. They don’t gear up, study other languages, or prepare to take over the world in God’s name. They gather in a dining room and pray…. Here they’ve been charged to remake the world God’s way and they rush out and ... [they pray]” (Byassee).  Now, praying may not sound like much to many of us, but centering one’s self in presence of God has a way of empowering us – even if all we do is rest for a moment in the goodness of God.

And although today’s gospel lesson skips back to the evening before Jesus is arrested, this portion of what the Church has come to know as the “High Priestly Prayer” of Jesus is really no different than what he had taught throughout his ministry, and no different than what the post resurrection prayers and teachings offered as well. It is the very prayer Jesus offers for us today – that we all might be one with him as he is one with God.

So, where do we start?  How do we live as resurrection people, we who live in the between-time, that time of waiting and longing for Christ’s return – waiting and longing, as we so often pray, for the fulfillment of God’s kingdom here on earth: Thy kingdom come, here on earth, as it is in heaven – sound familiar?  Where and how do we start?  Well, it seems prayer is a good place – at least that’s where Jesus and his followers start.  Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, has called for Anglicans around the world to make a conscientious decision to pray between now and Pentecost for the coming of God’s kingdom here on earth. On Ascension Day Presiding Bishop Michael Curry kicked off ten days of video presentations on prayer as a part of the Archbishop’s call.  The video can be seen on our Facebook page or one the Diocesan website (at http://www.episcopalchurch.org/thy-kingdom-come).

In his video Bishop Curry tells us, “Prayer alters the chemistry of the moment – changes the equation of history and life – sometimes in ways that we can see – sometimes in ways that we cannot.  Prayer changes things.”  He goes on to say that when we pray, there is “silence in heaven because God is listening…”listening to our cries – to the cries of those in pain, sorrow, and need – and listening to the cries of thanksgiving from those in the midst of joy.  “If you want things to stay the same,” says Bishop Curry, “If you want things to stay the same, don’t bother to pray.  But if you want to change – if you want the world to change – pray.”  God came among us in the person of Jesus to show us the way – to change the world – and to be changed. 

But prayer not only changes our relationship with God – prayer changes us as well.  Prayer – resting in God’s love – yearning for the coming of God’s kingdom on earth – changes us as well.  Prayer is a good place to start living the resurrection life during the between times.  And I don’t know about you, but if you’re at all like me, I suspect we can all do a better job of praying faithfully on a daily basis.  But there’s more to it than praying – we have to live as if the kingdom of heaven has already arrived – we have to live our lives as kingdom people – asking ourselves if what we’re thinking, saying, or doing, truly reflects the kingdom of heaven.

Our good friend, the Rev. Dr. Otis Hamm writes, “Humanity, in every sense, is here to be the embodiment of Christ” (Incarnation Life, not yet in print).  I know that can seem daunting – me? me becoming Christ to and for this world?  But as the 16th century mystic, Teresa of Ávila, wrote: “Christ has no body now but yours. No hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes through which he looks compassion on this world. Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good. Yours are the hands through which he blesses all the world.  Yours are the hands, yours are the feet, yours are the eyes, you are his body. Christ has no body now on earth but yours.”

The Incarnation of Jesus, that is, his life, death, and resurrection, along with the gift of God’s Holy Spirit in our lives – are all meant to help us become the embodiment of Christ; and prayer is a starting point to help us come to recognize and nurture the presence of God within us.  And while I will be the first to admit that embodying Christ in our lives is challenging, God in Christ is present with us to help make that happen.  We will take wrong turns along the journey from time to time.  We may even lose ground on occasion.  We are, after all, not what we eventually shall be – but we are growing toward it – enfolded and enfleshed in the mystery that is Christ.

All In

Easter 5A; John 14:1-14; St. Paul’s, Smithfield, NC 5/14/2017

Jim Melnyk: “All In”

I’m willing to bet that no matter how comforting the words we hear in today’s Gospel lesson from John might be, we hear them more often than we would like.  Along with it coming up every three years on the Fifth Sunday of Easter, we hear the same passage fairly regularly as part of the burial office, which reminds us that we have just lost someone who was dear to us.  In fact, some of us heard this morning’s passage read just a few weeks ago when we celebrated the life of Bill Smart.

Aside from the passage reminding us so often of those who have passed from this life to the next; we may have also seen how verse six, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” and verse 14, “If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it,” have been abused over the years.  Verse six being used by too many Christians to throw non-Christians under the bus – no one comes to the Father except through me – and verse 14 being used by too many to support some for or other of prosperity gospel – If in my name you ask me for anything.  In fact, I once worked at a Christian radio station with a guy who drove a big, red, Caddie with the bumper sticker: My God Goes First Class.  It made those of us with beat-up, old, cars scratch our heads and wonder if he thought we worshiped a different God.

But following Jesus is about more than giving assent to the claims of the Gospel or saying the right words.  Over the years a lot of folks have come to define “belief” as an intellectual nod toward acknowledging something to be true.  In other words, to believe in something is to give assent to its validity. But, as I’ve mentioned before, the ancient words we translate as “believe” in the scriptures and in our liturgies – We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ – actually means “to set one’s heart.”  Setting one’s heart is an act – an act of being and doing – which transcends simple acknowledgment.  Setting one’s heart is an act in which we join ourselves to God in Christ. 

Sister Joan Chittister writes, “The fact is that the only purpose of the spiritual life…is to begin to see the world as God sees the world.  It is about becoming the self that sees life through the eyes of Jesus and then, like Jesus, bends to become the miracle the world awaits” (Synthesis, 4/14/2017).

If we are indeed serious about coming to God through the way, and the truth, and the life, that is Jesus, it means opening ourselves to becoming Christ-like in how we live, and move, and have our being.  It means setting our hearts in sync with the heart of Jesus, who “shares bread and cup with the receptive, [and] the needy, [with those who are broken as well as those who are whole.  Who] risks standing up against injustice despite what is done to him. In Jesus’ words and deeds we see the truth that he is inviting us to live along with him day to day. Here is the way, he says, my blood, my body—my word, my love (Synthesis, 5/14/2017).

As one theologian puts it, “When we look at how Jesus lived, this is the way God acts.  Jesus is God deep in the flesh.  To know [Jesus] is to know not only the way, [but also] the One who draws us along this earthly path to our own ultimate experience of awe and reunion” with God (ibid).

Thomas asks Jesus, “How can we know the way?”  Philip says to Jesus, “Show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.”  Jesus’ answer to Philip is probably behind his response to Thomas as well.  “Have I been with you all this time, and still you don’t know me?”  The answers to Thomas and Philip are rather simple: Look to Jesus.  His life – his ministry – his relationship with God – not only shows us the way, but shows us the Father – shows us God – as well.  Now, living out those answers from Jesus?  Well, that’s the hard part.  “Here is the way, Jesus says, my blood, my body – my word, my love.”  The way of Jesus is found in the total, unbridled, unconditional, self-offering of Jesus on our behalf – on behalf of the whole world.  The way of Jesus is first and foremost the way of the cross – the way of giving oneself wholly on behalf of all.  It is a challenging way indeed.

I know this might sound a bit crazy, but thinking about the sacrificial love of God in Christ brought to mind for me the game of poker.  Bear with me a moment!  Now, I’m not much of a poker player, but there is a move you may have heard of – it’s called “going all in.”  The person making the bet puts every single chip into the pot – often with a resounding flourish.  “I’m all in,” the person proclaims.   “I’m betting it all.”  The subtext of the move is an unspoken, “That’s how sure I am of my hand.

There are a couple of possible ways of considering such a move.  One possibility is that the person betting has a poor hand and is bluffing – hoping that everyone else will fold, and so win the pot – even with a bad hand. The second possibility is that the person betting has a great hand – and hopes the other players will think the bettor is bluffing, thereby throwing in even more chips and calling the bet.  In reality the ploy is most risky when the bettor is bluffing – especially if that person is terrible at bluffing.

To use this as a metaphor, Jesus went all in.  He called the ruling powers of this world on their hand – he went all in – and in the end he took not only the hand, but the whole game. “My blood, my body – my word, my love.”  He wasn't bluffing. He gave up everything. This is the way, and the truth, and the life that is Jesus.  This is the promise and the love upon which we are called to set our hearts.

Jesus calls us to go all in with him.  And each Sunday, as we come to this Holy Table to receive body and blood, word and love, we are asked to “present unto God ourselves, our souls and bodies, as a reasonable, holy and living sacrifice unto God” (BCP, Rite I). 

Stephen, whom we heard about in this morning’s lesson from the Book of Acts, was someone who knew what it meant to go all in as a follower of Jesus.  He believed the whole of his faith tradition’s history pointed to the promise of God in Jesus.  He was willing to proclaim God’s redeeming love in Christ even when it put his life at risk.  As we just finished singing, “he bore no shield before his face, no weapon in his hand.”  And even as he died, Stephen boldly proclaimed the forgiving love made real for us in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.

In the end we must decide for ourselves what being “all in” for Jesus means for each of us.  How do we each choose to live out the way, the truth, and the life that is Jesus?  For many members of local Christian clergy and laity one expression of this commitment meant standing with our Muslim sisters and brothers in Smithfield yesterday for the opening of their Islamic Center and Mosque on Brightleaf Boulevard.  In today’s climate it probably felt quite risky for all of us.

But we must learn to recognize that as long as members of both religions claim sole possession of God’s truth, we will live at best in anxious tension; but that when we seek to see each other as children of God and bearers of a deeper truth of mercy and love, we can change our world – we can make it a place where the love of God flourishes.

Being “all in” will mean different things for different people. It might mean supporting and/or participating in the “Wheels of Hope” program in Selma, which brings food to those in need as well as books to help young people learn how to read – perhaps going into the neighborhoods we have spent lifetime trying to avoid.  It might mean giving up time or money to help meet emergency needs of teachers and students in our school system, driving nails home with Habitat for Humanity, speaking out on behalf of adequate, affordable health care for all people,

or standing side-by-side with folks like our migrant farmer neighbors who live hand-to-mouth – many in fear of ICE agents these days, or standing side-by-side with refugees seeking a safe home.

“My blood, my body – my word, my love,” is the way, the truth, and the life our Lord Jesus chose to live.  Jesus did not hold back – but gave of his whole self.  Being “all in” will always bring with it challenges – this is a truth we must be willing to acknowledge.  But being “all in” also has the power to call forth the best that is in each of us, and it has the power to bring us great joy as well, as we “become the miracle the world awaits.”