Keeping the Season

"Sun rise on a beautiful day" by Holly Victoria Norval, on Flickr

How Many Nights
by Galway Kinnell

How many nights
have I lain in terror,
O Creator Spirit, maker of night and day,

only to walk out
the next morning over the frozen world
hearing under the creaking of snow
faint, peaceful breaths...
snake,
bear, earthworm, ant...

and above me
a wild crow crying 'yaw yaw yaw'
from a branch nothing cried from ever in my life.

anatomy" by Ben Giles, on Flickr

Acts 3:12–19
When Peter saw it, he addressed the people, "You Israelites, why do you wonder at this, or why do you stare at us, as though by our own power or piety we had made him walk? The God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, the God of our ancestors has glorified his servant Jesus, whom you handed over and rejected in the presence of Pilate, though he had decided to release him. But you rejected the Holy and Righteous One and asked to have a murderer given to you, and you killed the Author of life, whom God raised from the dead. To this we are witnesses. And by faith in his name, his name itself has made this man strong, whom you see and know; and the faith that is through Jesus has given him this perfect health in the presence of all of you. And now, friends, I know that you acted in ignorance, as did also your rulers. In this way God fulfilled what he had foretold through all the prophets, that his Messiah would suffer. Repent therefore, and turn to God so that your sins may be wiped out.

1 John 3:1–7
See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are. The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Beloved, we are God's children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is. And all who have this hope in him purify themselves, just as he is pure. Everyone who commits sin is guilty of lawlessness; sin is lawlessness. You know that he was revealed to take away sins, and in him there is no sin. No one who abides in him sins; no one who sins has either seen him or known him. Little children, let no one deceive you. Everyone who does what is right is righteous, just as he is righteous.

Luke 24:36b–48
[Jesus said,] "Peace be with you." [The disciples] were startled and terrified, and thought that they were seeing a ghost. He said to them, "Why are you frightened, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself. Touch me and see; for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have." And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet. While in their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering, he said to them, "Have you anything here to eat?" They gave him a piece of broiled fish, and he took it and ate in their presence. Then he said to them, "These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you — that everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled." Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures, and he said to them, "Thus it is written, that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things.
---

So you may have noticed that today’s gospel reading from Luke, on the surface, sounds suspiciously similar to last week’s gospel reading from John. Nope, you haven’t stepped into a weird time warp where you are stuck repeating Easter 2 over and over and over again like the movie Groundhog Day, I promise!

Today, we have another story of the resurrected Jesus showing up among the disciples. Like last week’s account from John, the disciples are gathered together in a room, hidden away. Like last week’s gospel, Jesus shows up among them and says, “Peace be with you.” Like last week’s gospel, Jesus shows them his hands and feet, and the disciples, eventually, come to believe.

What is different between John’s gospel last week and Luke’s gospel today is the question of what the gospel writers were trying to prove about the resurrected Jesus. John, I think, was trying to establish the identity of Jesus post-resurrection. Jesus appeared to the disciples and to Thomas as if to say, “hey look, it’s me, Jesus, and not somebody else!” When Thomas finally gets his chance to encounter the risen Christ, he responds with a declaration of identity: “My Lord and my God!”

Luke’s gospel is less concerned with the identity of the risen Christ, and far more concerned with his bodily reality.

Maybe it’s because tradition says that Luke was a physician that he seems more concerned than the other gospel writers with matters of Christ’s humanity, even from the very outset of his gospel. Luke is the only gospel that gives us a real birth narrative. Luke’s gospel is concerned with establishing Jesus as the real human savior for real human needs like hunger and pain and poverty and oppression. And here, after the resurrection, Luke takes care to establish not just the identity of the resurrected Jesus, but also his bodily reality. For Luke, it is important that the disciples and all of us know that Jesus, who fully died, has been fully raised.

"Why are you frightened?” Jesus asks, “And why do doubts arise in your hearts? Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself. Touch me and see; for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have." And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet.

But even having seen these wounds, Luke tells us that the disciples, even in their joy, were yet also disbelieving and still wondering, and so Jesus takes it one step further: He said to them, "Have you anything here to eat?" They gave him a piece of broiled fish, and he took it and ate in their presence. Ghosts, spirits, disembodied souls: they do not need to eat. But bodies do.

And so he shows his hands and feet and eats a snack to prove that he is, indeed, resurrected in the flesh, because anything less fleshly would cease to be resurrection and would cease to be salvation.

In the opening stanzas of his marvelous poem, “Seven Stanzas for Easter,” John Updike writes,

Make no mistake: if He rose at all
it was as His body;
if the cells’ dissolution did not reverse, the molecules
reknit, the amino acids rekindle,
the Church will fall.

It was not as the flowers,
each soft Spring recurrent;
it was not as His Spirit in the mouths and fuddled
eyes of the eleven apostles;
it was as His flesh: ours.

The heart of our Christian faith rests upon this truth that Christ was born - really born; body, mind, and spirit - and that Christ died - really died; body, mind, and spirit - and that Christ then rose again - really rose; body, mind, and spirit. He's not a ghost. He is touchable. He is hungry. He has wounds and scars. He - his body - is resurrected from the dead, so that our bodies will also will be resurrected at the end of all things.

Saint Gregory of Nazianzus, writing in the fourth century, said “That which He has not assumed He has not healed; but that which is united to His Godhead is also saved.”

By this he means that Christ had to take on flesh so that we, as children of the flesh, might be redeemed. More than this, the very death and resurrection of Christ’s own body has united us with God and, in the words of 1 John, has made us “children of God; and that is what we are.” 1 John goes on to say that when Christ is finally revealed, “we will be like him.” Just as Christ was raised not on in spirit but also in body, so will we be like him in our own resurrection - raised not only in spirit but also in body.

This is the same message as we get in Peter’s sermon in Acts today. The crowds have just watched the apostles heal a lame man at the entrance to the temple, and they are amazed, so Peter starts preaching. He asks, ”Why do you wonder about this? Is the power to heal bodies not the very power of God, the same power that forgives sins and the same power that raised Christ from the dead?” Peter’s message here is that the power of God to raise Christ in the flesh is the power of God to forgive us and to heal our human bodies and to save our created world.

Even though we live a bodily, earthy, dirty life, I think that it is sometimes much easier for us to imagine the work of God taking place the spiritual realm, the neighborhood of the soul, the purification of minds and desires, than it is to understand the work of God on behalf of bodies, and not just human bodies, but animal bodies and plants and trees and the entire body of creation.

But when we, in our confession of faith, proclaim, “I believe in the resurrection of the body,” we are confessing that we have a God who cares about not just souls, but bodies; a God who cares not just for the heavenly realm, but for the created matter of this universe; a God who cares not just for matters of the spirit, but for matters of flesh, too.

And why is this so very important, that God cares about bodies?

It is important because somewhere, there is a transgender youth who is trying to figure out what to do with a body and an identity that don’t fit together.

It is important because somewhere, there is a 99 year old man whose joints are failing who feels creaky and useless as he waits out his days in a care facility.

It is important because somewhere, there is a 45 year old woman who has been yo-yo dieting since she was 14, who believes that her body will forever remain unloveable.

It is important because somewhere, there is a college wrestler with an eating disorder who believes that his whole worth is tied u pin how well his body can perform.

It is important because somewhere, there is an infertile couple who feel like their bodies have completely failed them.

It is important because somewhere, there is a woman with a physical deformity that makes her feel excluded and invisible.

It is important because somewhere, there is a child with leukemia who has been sick for more days in their life than they have been well.

This is the power of the bodily resurrection: That Christ in his flesh has won for us the salvation of our bodies and the body of this world.

This is the power of the bodily resurrection: That Christ in his flesh has ushered the kingdom of God into our midst as it unfolds here and now and in the real stuff of crumbling housing projects and cancer and the dirty feet of children whose shoes have holes and the sunken faces of families who don’t have enough to eat.

This is the power of the bodily resurrection: That Christ in his flesh empowers us to feed hungry people and clothe naked people and march for justice and weep over prejudice and care for the frail and heal broken bodies; to care about carbon emissions and polluted water and to be conscious of how much trash we generate and which animal habitats we are destroying.

This is the power of the bodily resurrection: That Christ comes to us each week in this holy meal, where we touch and taste his body, and remember with our hearts and our tongues and our bodies and our spirits that Christ is here, among us, and that this bread and wine that we can touch are the elements of our salvation.

Brothers and sisters, just as the disciples touched the risen Christ, in the body, and by touching were assured of their salvation, so also do we touch Christ not only in the elements of communion, but in the body of Christ gathered here. If you were to reach out and touch the shoulder of the person next to you, you would be touching Christ’s body. If you were to clasp your own hands, you would be touching Christ’s body. If you were to plant your feet firmly on the ground to feel the strength of the foundations of the earth below, you would be touching Christ’s body.

Whatever you feel about your body - love it, hate it, whether it is strong or weak, a finished product or a work in progress - your body is blessed and saved and will be resurrected, and it is given the very power of God to be a blessing in the world.

So let us close by blessing these very bodies that God has given us, through which we know God, by which we are called to be a blessing in the body of this world.

You have heard the holy and saving gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ. Now receive the sign of that gospel on your body and in your heart, that you may know the Lord and the power of his resurrection.

As a sign of God’s endless love and mercy for you,
Receive the + sign of the cross on your forehead.

That you may hear the gospel of Christ, the word of life,
receive the + cross on your ears.

That you may see the light of Christ illumining your way,
receive the + cross on your eyes.

That you may sing the praise of Christ, the joy of the church,
receive the + cross on your lips.

That God may dwell within you by faith,
receive the + cross on your heart.

That you may bear the gentle yoke of Christ,
receive the + cross on your shoulders.

That God's mercy may be known in your work,
receive the + cross on your hands.

That you may follow in the way of Christ,
receive the + cross on your feet.

May God bring you in peace and joy to fullness of life in the risen Christ. May the God of all grace, who has called you to glory, support you and make you strong, now and forever. Amen.
(from the ELW “Welcome to Baptism” rite)

Isaiah 40:21–31
Have you not known? Have you not heard?
Has it not been told you from the beginning?
Have you not understood from the foundations of the earth?

It is he who sits above the circle of the earth,
and its inhabitants are like grasshoppers;
who stretches out the heavens like a curtain,
and spreads them like a tent to live in;
who brings princes to naught,
and makes the rulers of the earth as nothing.

Scarcely are they planted, scarcely sown,
scarcely has their stem taken root in the earth,
when he blows upon them, and they wither,
and the tempest carries them off like stubble.

To whom then will you compare me,
or who is my equal? says the Holy One.
Lift up your eyes on high and see:
Who created these?

He who brings out their host and numbers them,
calling them all by name;
because he is great in strength,
mighty in power,
not one is missing.

Why do you say, O Jacob,
and speak, O Israel,
"My way is hidden from the LORD,
and my right is disregarded by my God"?
Have you not known? Have you not heard?

The LORD is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary;
his understanding is unsearchable.
He gives power to the faint,
and strengthens the powerless.
Even youths will faint and be weary,
and the young will fall exhausted;
but those who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength,
they shall mount up with wings like eagles,
they shall run and not be weary,
they shall walk and not faint.

"more clouds." by kaija, on Flickr

Genesis 1:1–5
In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. Then God said, "Let there be light"; and there was light. And God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.

Mark 1:4–11
John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. Now John was clothed with camel's hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. He proclaimed, "The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit."

In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased."
---

More than ever, it feels like our world is tearing apart at the seams.

In France, a nation rends its garments in grief over this week's shootings. In Nigeria, the border town of Baga has been ripped apart by a devastating attack by Boko Haram which has left as many as 2000 people dead, many of them women, children, and the elderly. In Pakistan, an ordinary day has been torn apart by a suicide bomber killing innocent victims outside a mosque.

Often our Christian theology centers on beautiful things like the kindness and compassion of God. We talk about God in terms of forgiveness, grace, and mercy.

But when the powers of death and destruction in our world seem so prevalent and insurmountable, we are lucky that our story of faith also includes images of God's strength and power, especially over darkness and despair. In heart-rending times like these, we need to have the confidence that God has the power to overcome all these heart-breaking things. We need be able to say to the forces that tear apart our world that our God has power to tear apart the very powers of sin and death and destruction.

In the Old Testament, we see example after example of the power of God which accompanies the Israelites through slavery, in the wilderness, and even in battle. In her Magnificat, Mary sings about a God who scatters the proud with the power of his arm. And at his baptism, Jesus reveals the power of God to break open the very heavens themselves.

Jesus comes to the river to be baptized from John. He plunges into the water, breaking its surface both at his descent and at his emerging. In response, the heavens themselves break apart. God in his power splits open the sky, from which the Spirit pours down upon Jesus and into him, affirming him as beloved Son of God, empowering him to begin a life of public ministry, and setting him at the start of a journey that will eventually take him to the cross. It will be by this cross that the world itself will crack open.

Mark, at the end of his gospel, will talk about the temple curtain being torn in two at the moment of Jesus' death, symbolizing the destruction of the boundary separating God and humans. He uses the same verb to talk about the heavens rending open at Jesus' baptism and the curtain rending in two at Jesus' death to make the point that the power of God does not stand idly by, is not subtle. The power of God as creator and redeemer crashes through barriers and smashes into the world with urgency.

From the very beginning of all things, we hear in Genesis of a God who rips apart chaos itself into little pieces and reorganizes them into the poetry of creation. This same God rips apart the waters of the Red Sea to create a clear path for the Israelites to escape their Egyptian slavery. When God's chosen people are suffering in exile, the prophet Isaiah does not pray for the meek compassion of God to sneak in and calm their grieving hearts. No, Isaiah says, "Oh that you would tear open the heavens and come down so that the mountains would quake at your presence, so that the nations might tremble at your presence!" And then, in Revelation, when we imagine a cosmic battle between good and evil where God in Christ ultimately triumphs over all the powers of sin and death, we hear again of the heavens opening up and God breaking in: "Then I saw the new heaven and the new earth, and I saw the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God."

In our current age, as in all ages before us, we need God to tear apart the heaven and come down. We need to pray this again and again and again. Because unlike the senseless, destructive powers that try to tear apart our world, our God breaks things open in order to fill up the world with his presence, to flood all things with mercy, to pour into our world and our hearts the full measure of his goodness, life, and salvation.

This is what we learn from Jesus’ baptism. God is strong enough to tear open the heavens, and God is gracious enough to break open our hardened hearts, and God destroys evil and death by drowning them in love and grace and hope.

We use lots of images to talk about baptism. We talk about it as a washing or cleansing. We talk about it as dying and rising with Christ. We talk about being clothed in baptism - an image that we recall at funerals as we clothe the casket in the pall at the beginning of the service. We talk about how baptism gives us gifts of the Holy Spirit.

But when do we ever talk about baptism as a rending apart?

When we reject sin, death, and the devil in baptism, we are professing faith in a God who tears us away from the darkest forces in all creation. When we pour that water over our heads, we are trusting God to crack open our hearts and come rushing into us. When we anoint with oil and speak the words, “Child of God, you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever,” we are breaking apart old identities to make room for God’s claim on us as his beloved.

The author Joanna Macy writes, “The heart that breaks open can contain the whole universe.” This, brothers and sisters, is what baptism is all about.

By these crushing waters of baptism, we are broken in order that we might be filled with the power of God's salvation. And by this power we get pushed out into the world to resist darkness and create salvation for all our broken world.

In these baptismal waters we ride along on a current, where God acts and God acts in us, and we act in God, and we tumble all over one another and spill out over the edges, and it all sounds very messy, but it turns out that it is actually very beautiful.

For we have a God who tears into the world not for sport but for salvation.

And there is no better, warmer, brighter news for our broken world and our broken hearts than to hear God say to us, "You are my children. You are beloved. In you I am well-pleased." Yes, the fullness of God-in-Christ is pleased - pleased - to dwell in you and to make a home among us.

Oh, that you would continue to tear open the heavens, Lord God.
Oh, that you would continue to rend our hearts, Lord God.
Fill this longing world with your power and mercy.
Pour out your Spirit upon us and move over the face of the earth.
Burst through the skies and come to us, again and again, that we might know ever more deeply what it is to be yours. To be your broken and beloved. To be your children.

Amen.

"'Rebirth' by Anne-Mari Burger" by Cue Online, on Flickr

John 3:1-17
Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. He came to Jesus by night and said to him, "Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God." 
Jesus answered him, "Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above." 

Nicodemus said to him, "How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother's womb and be born?" 

Jesus answered, "Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not be astonished that I said to you, 'You must be born from above.' The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit." 

Nicodemus said to him, "How can these things be?" 

Jesus answered him, "Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things?

Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen; yet you do not receive our testimony. If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.

Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.
---

Nicodemus’s encounter with Jesus, under the cover of dark, brings before us this question of what it means to be born again. As Lutherans, we might not talk too often in terms of being “born again,” and yet there is something important enough to the idea that we include our assurance of rebirth in our liturgy for morning prayer. If you turn to page 302 in our hymnal (Evangelical Lutheran Worship), there it is: "You have been born anew through the living and abiding word of God." Let’s practice singing that dialogue:

You have been born anew. Through the living and abiding word of God.

This is our refrain for the rest of our sermon time. I invite you to sing that response as it comes up throughout the sermon. And now, let us begin.

You have been born anew. Through the living and abiding word of God.

It was sixth grade. Our middle school youth group was attending Super Second Saturday, a nondenominational Christian youth rally, a one-night event with speakers and music, held in a big arena. The seats were blue, and we were sitting in the first rows off the floor, right behind a railing. The band Petra played, which if you aren't familiar, was maybe the most famous Christian hair band of the eighties. Late in the evening, the emcee, over quiet piano music in the background, explained to the gathered crowd about how God loved us so much that he sent Jesus to die for us, and that even though we were all sinners, Jesus died to save us. And then he offered up the invitation: If you were ready to be born again, to accept Jesus into your heart, then you were supposed to come to the floor of the arena, where there would be somebody waiting to pray with you. Or if you were already a believer but you wanted to recommit your life to Christ, you could also come down.

Sarah and I were perhaps a bit naive. But we were also working very hard to take our faith seriously, so we decided that there was no harm to be done in affirming our faith by recommitting our lives to Christ. And so we went, together, and a very nice college student met us at the bottom of the aisle, and we walked off, behind the set, to an empty section of seats. He took down our names and addresses, and checked the box on the form that said "recommitting." And then we said a short prayer. He prayed first, and then Sarah and I each were supposed to say something, and I remember it being very unceremonious and a little bit awkward. After we said "amen," he said some encouraging and celebratory things, and then we found our way back to the group.

If I was working to take my faith seriously at 11 years old, I was also very shy about such things. In the next weeks, I received a series of mailings from the organizers of the rally. A letter of congratulations for choosing to be born again in Christ, and various resources intended for new Christians including a pamphlet explaining to me the basics of Christianity, complete with a line drawing of a great cavern labeled “sin,” with me on one side and God on the other, and then a second line drawing of that same cavern, except this time with a cross labeled “Jesus” bridging the gap. I was mortified to receive these mailings, and terrified that my parents might ask me about them. I had grown up in the church, and couldn't remember a time before I believed in God, and it made me feel like I had done something wrong at the rally or somehow miscommunicated with the guy taking down my information, because I wasn’t a new Christian. I didn’t need these mailings. I hid them away on the shelf above my bed, where I kept my secret stuff, and resolved not to get caught up in something like this again.

You have been born anew. Through the living and abiding word of God.

Fast forward to my first semester of seminary. It was finals week, and I grabbed a bunch of books and notecards and walked downtown to Starbucks to study over some coffee. I was studying for my Old Testament final, and my textbook was sitting on the table next to my cup. A man walked by the table, dropped a tract onto my notes, and pointed to my book, saying "If you like that, then you might be interested in what that booklet has to say."

My first reaction: frustration and offense. I wasn’t sure what vibe I was giving off to make him assume that I wasn’t a person of faith.

My second (and better) reaction: to kindly explain to him the irony of the situation. And so I spoke up and said, "Oh. Well, I'm actually in seminary studying to be a pastor right now..." and trailed off, hoping that he would realize that he probably didn't need to be worrying about my faith or salvation, and leave me alone, because my notes really weren't going to study themselves.

Instead, he took the opportunity to pull up a chair and talk to me about how I must, then, understand and appreciate how important it was to evangelize people, and that it was important to ensure that people were born again so that they would know their destiny when they died. I didn't say much in the conversation, and was very glad when it was over.

You have been born anew. Through the living and abiding word of God.

Nicodemus comes to Jesus at night, curious about the kingdom of God, and Jesus tells him, "you must be born anew." The word, in Greek, can be translated "anew" or "again" or "from above." All of them pointing to the idea that believing in God and following Christ is somehow so transformative that it is as if we are given an entirely new life, that we are reborn.

Christians struggle among themselves to make sense of this idea of being born again. Is it a decision that humans make for Christ? Is it not a decision, but an awareness of the moment when we consciously come to faith? Or is it something else?

Jesus says that rebirth is a matter of the Spirit, a Spirit who blows where it may, rushing through the dry bones of this fleshy existence and re-enlivening our souls, apart from our own power, apart from our own choosing. He implies born anew is something elemental, like the rush of both wind and water. It is an awakening, like the way that the earth rises from sleep when springtime begins to unfold.

There was that day last week when it first felt like spring. The sun was shining and the temperature crept into the 50's. A breeze blew over the face of the earth, and you could feel, deep in your bones, that spring was on its way.

It wasn't just that the breeze was warm. It was that the wind carried with the scent of earth, of green and growing things. The giant mounds of snow collapsed in on themselves, giving off running canals of melted water, flowing into the streets, washing away the ice and the sand of winter. Everything was muddy, damp. Water rested in giant pools and puddles on the sidewalk, and it flowed under and around the soles of your feet as it rolled downhill, seeking lower ground. In the water, in the wind, you could feel in your very bones that spring was not far off. The promise of buds and shoots and the resurrection of the earth could not be ignored.

And it filled the senses. The sight of mud and melting, the smell of green earth, the taste of the breeze, the sound of birds, the feel of the sun on your hair, the feeling of spring deep in your soul and body.

Isn't this what rebirth is supposed to feel like? Isn't rebirth bigger than a blue stadium seat and more life-transforming than a drive-by evangelism at a coffee shop?

You have been born anew. Through the living and abiding word of God.

At the beginning of all things, we read that the Spirit of God hovered over the waters, and from water and spirit came the birth of all creation. At the end of all things, we read about the rebirth of all creation, where the river of the water of life flows from the throne of God, bright as crystal, watering a towering tree of life, whose leaves are for the healing of the nations.

Baptism is our own opportunity to enter into these moving waters, flowing from creation to new creation, making of each of us a new creation by water and the Spirit. Baptism is one moment of rebirth in a series of rebirths that take place in our lives, for as Martin Luther says, we daily drown to sin and rise as a reborn person in God-in-Christ.

And rebirth always takes place in the passive voice. We are reborn. We have been born anew. We are daily born again. Rebirth is not something we do, it is something that happens to us. Jesus teaches Nicodemus that rebirth is more than a moment and more than a decision. Rebirth is the work of God's Spirit, overpowering us and transforming us. God is the active agent in rebirth, and not ourselves.

For this is the God who so loved the world that he gave his only Son, not to condemn the world, but to save it, and not to leave us to death, but to raise us to eternal life. This is the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God of the covenant, the God who keeps his promises. And God’s promise for you and for me, in this time and in this place, is that we have been born anew, not by any feat of our own strength, but because our God is merciful, and loves his whole creation.

So to all those parts of you that feel frozen, creaky, weak, or dying;
to the dry and dusty corners of your soul,
to the despair of this first life,
to the frailty and even futility of this flesh,
Hear this good news:
You must be born anew, by water and the spirit.
You are born anew, by water and the spirit.
The Spirit blows where it chooses, and you see not where it comes from nor where it goes,
But when it rushes through you, you feel new breath in your lungs,
new hope in your soul,
A lingering sense that today, this very day, you have been given new life.
You have been reborn.

You have been born anew. Through the living and abiding word of God.

“We need the tonic of wildness...At the same time that we are earnest to explore and learn all things, we require that all things be mysterious and unexplorable, that land and sea be indefinitely wild, unsurveyed and unfathomed by us because unfathomable. We can never have enough of nature.”
― Henry David Thoreau, Walden: Or, Life in the Woods

"desert acacias" by BATEMAN art, on Flickr

From the poet: As I reflected on Jesus’ three temptations in the wilderness, I was drawn more and more to think about the setting, not just the content of the temptations. When I think about the ‘wilderness’ today, even the desert, it’s likely to be in the context of a vacation trip to see beautiful scenery, not a place of desperate struggle with the spiritual forces of the Enemy. Where, then, is our wilderness in which we are tempted?

"Technology in the wilderness" by Meliroo on Flickr

Temptation in the Wired Wilderness
by Holly Ordway

Our Lord spent forty days and forty nights
Resisting Satan in the wilderness.
We picture barren rocks and sand; we might
Add in a scrubby tree or two. I guess
That’s where temptation ought to come, so we
Can see it from at least a mile away,
And be prepared, with Bibles, church retreats,
And exhortations to stand firm.

Instead it wounds with cuts too small to see,
In this our wired wilderness. We play
And work in deserts of the digital:
Abuzz with locust-noise of clicks and tweets
And filled with lonely crowds. Our enemy
Is faced and fought right here, or not at all.

from the God and Nature magazine

"Dawn, Pockstones" by LizzieShepherd on Flickr

Jesus Christ the Apple Tree
poet unknown; music by Stanford Scriven

The tree of life my soul hath seen,
Laden with fruit and always green:
The trees of nature fruitless be
Compared with Christ the apple tree.

His beauty doth all things excel:
By faith I know, but ne'er can tell
The glory which I now can see
In Jesus Christ the apple tree.

For happiness I long have sought,
And pleasure dearly I have bought:
I missed of all; but now I see
'Tis found in Christ the apple tree.

This fruit doth make my soul to thrive,
It keeps my dying faith alive;
Which makes my soul in haste to be
With Jesus Christ the apple tree.

I'm weary with my former toil,
Here I will sit and rest awhile:
Under the shadow I will be,
Of Jesus Christ the apple tree.

"Laguna Miscanti Lagoon" by Andre Distel Photography, on Flickr

Isaiah 35:1–10
The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad, the desert shall rejoice and blossom; like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice with joy and singing. The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it, the majesty of Carmel and Sharon. They shall see the glory of the LORD, the majesty of our God. Strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees. Say to those who are of a fearful heart, "Be strong, do not fear! Here is your God. He will come with vengeance, with terrible recompense. He will come and save you." Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then the lame shall leap like a deer, and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy. For waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert; the burning sand shall become a pool, and the thirsty ground springs of water; the haunt of jackals shall become a swamp, the grass shall become reeds and rushes. A highway shall be there, and it shall be called the Holy Way; the unclean shall not travel on it, but it shall be for God's people; no traveler, not even fools, shall go astray. No lion shall be there, nor shall any ravenous beast come up on it; they shall not be found there, but the redeemed shall walk there. And the ransomed of the LORD shall return, and come to Zion with singing; everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.

"The Lion and the Lamb" by Ron Tanovitz, on Flickr

Send Us Your Spirit
David Haas

Come Lord Jesus. Send us your Spirit. Renew the face of the earth.
Come Lord Jesus. Send us your Spirit. Renew the face of the earth.

Come to us, Spirit of God. Breathe in us now. We sing together.
Spirit of hope and of light, be in our lives.
Come to us, Spirit of God.

Come Lord Jesus. Send us your Spirit. Renew the face of the earth.
Come Lord Jesus. Send us your Spirit. Renew the face of the earth.

Fill us with the fire of your love. Burn in us now. Bring us together.
Come to us; dwell in us. Change our lives, oh Lord.
Come to us, Spirit of God.

Come Lord Jesus. Send us your Spirit. Renew the face of the earth.
Come Lord Jesus. Send us your Spirit. Renew the face of the earth.

Send us the wings of new birth.
Fill all the earth with the love you have taught us.
Let all creation now be shaken with love.
Come to us, Spirit of God.

Come Lord Jesus. Send us your Spirit. Renew the face of the earth.
Come Lord Jesus. Send us your Spirit. Renew the face of the earth.

"Tree of Life" by donkeycart, on Flickr

And in the spirit he carried me away to a great, high mountain and showed me the holy city Jerusalem coming down out of heaven from God. I saw no temple in the city, for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb. And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God is its light, and its lamp is the Lamb. The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it. Its gates will never be shut by day and there will be no night there. People will bring into it the glory and the honor of the nations. But nothing unclean will enter it, nor anyone who practices abomination or falsehood, but only those who are written in the Lamb's book of life.

Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city. On either side of the river is the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, producing its fruit each month; and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. Nothing accursed will be found there any more. But the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him; they will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. And there will be no more night; they need no light of lamp or sun, for the Lord God will be their light, and they will reign forever and ever. (Revelation 21:10, 22; 22:1-5)

"before & after" by funcrush28, on Flickr

Now the apostles and the believers who were in Judea heard that the Gentiles had also accepted the word of God. So when Peter went up to Jerusalem, the circumcised believers criticized him, saying, "Why did you go to uncircumcised men and eat with them?" Then Peter began to explain it to them, step by step, saying, I was in the city of Joppa praying, and in a trance I saw a vision. There was something like a large sheet coming down from heaven, being lowered by its four corners; and it came close to me. As I looked at it closely I saw four-footed animals, beasts of prey, reptiles, and birds of the air. I also heard a voice saying to me, 'Get up, Peter; kill and eat.' But I replied, 'By no means, Lord; for nothing profane or unclean has ever entered my mouth.' But a second time the voice answered from heaven, 'What God has made clean, you must not call profane.' This happened three times; then everything was pulled up again to heaven. At that very moment three men, sent to me from Caesarea, arrived at the house where we were. The Spirit told me to go with them and not to make a distinction between them and us. These six brothers also accompanied me, and we entered the man's house. He told us how he had seen the angel standing in his house and saying, 'Send to Joppa and bring Simon, who is called Peter; he will give you a message by which you and your entire household will be saved.' And as I began to speak, the Holy Spirit fell upon them just as it had upon us at the beginning. And I remembered the word of the Lord, how he had said, 'John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit.' If then God gave them the same gift that he gave us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could hinder God?" When they heard this, they were silenced. And they praised God, saying, "Then God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life." (Acts 11:1-18)

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; 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." 6Then 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)

When he had gone out, Jesus said, "Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him. If God has been glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once. Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me; and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you, 'Where I am going, you cannot come.' I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." (John 13:31-35)
---

This week, I attended a gathering that involved a number of area clergy, of many and various denominations. And as we introduced ourselves, there were at least a few folks who blinked a few extra times and forced polite smiles when I, a woman, introduced myself as a pastor. I generally have two reactions to moments like this. First, I feel a little defensive and defiant, and square my shoulders up as if to say “Yup, I’m a girl. What are you gonna’ do about it?” And then I get over myself, and my second reaction is to remember that I am hitting against a longstanding boundary, one borne out of faithful people trying to live faithfully according to their understanding of who God is and how God works, and that people of faith come to different conclusions about all sorts of things, and that crossing or giving up certain boundaries is really difficult.

This recent encounter of mine is not entirely unlike the disciples’ reaction to hearing that Peter, a Jew, entered the house of Cornelius, a Gentile. They, too, blinked a few extra times, and raised their eyebrows, and then went one step further, openly criticizing him for crossing a longstanding – and yes, even God-given! – boundary, a boundary that was, for them, a mark of faithfulness.

To combat the criticism, Peter tells them the story of what happened to him; the story of the sheet and the clean and unclean animals, the voice of God speaking directly to him, changing his own rules about who was “in” and who was “out” of salvation, the story of Peter’s own new revelations about the gift of the Holy Spirit. And Peter closes his testimony with one hard-hitting, humbling, knock-out punch of a question: “If then God gave [the outsiders] the same gift [of the Holy Spirit] that he gave us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could hinder God?"

Having grown up in a church that emphasized the consistency of God, and that took comfort in a God who never changed, today’s passage from Acts blew my mind the first time I read it all the way through. Because this story, perhaps more than nearly any other story in the Bible, reminds us that our greatest comfort is not a God who remains static and unflinching, but a God who reacts and responds to the world around us, who is willing to be a little bit unruly and do unexpected things and even change course if it means bringing more people into his kingdom. It tells us that God is far more interested in making us new than he is in sitting back, hands-off, just observing creation from afar.

This is the whole point of Christ coming to earth - that the world might change course, that God might offer us the new news of resurrection and life instead of the old news of sin and death.

Paul writes to the church at Corinth, “If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!”

The good news? You are a new creation. In Christ, God has birthed his new heaven and new earth in you and for you.

The bad news? You are a new creation. And so you can no longer simply rely on your old ways of being. The former things have passed away and you are now an agent of newness and transformation in the world, whether you like it or not.

The philosopher Soren Kierkegaard writes, “The matter is quite simple. The Bible is very easy to understand. But we Christians are a bunch of scheming swindlers. We pretend to be unable to understand it because we know very well that the minute we understand, we are obliged to act accordingly. Take any words in the New Testament and forget everything except pledging yourself to act accordingly. My God, you will say, if I do that my whole life will be ruined. How would I ever get on in the world?...Dreadful it is to fall into the hands of the living God.”

And I would add, “Dreadful it is to fall in with a God who is constantly making things new!” Because once we’ve been made new, then we are a part of making the world new, and real, deep, lasting newness is hard.

It is so much easier to buy into the world’s small, false, or shallow images of newness than to live into God’s overwhelming, sweeping promise of a new heaven and new earth.

It’s easy enough to walk down the cleaning supply aisle of the grocery store and grab the spray bottle of tub and tile cleaner that has a “new formula!” sticker on it. But it’s hard to advocate for opening up the arms of the church to new people that the church has historically left out of its mission or ministry or leadership.

It’s easy for most of us to go out to eat and try something new off of the menu that we haven’t tried before. Bt’s hard to let God lead us to new depths of sacrifice for our neighbors, like the hard sacrifices of our time or our money, or the especially hard sacrifice of giving up our egos and our desire always to be right (not that I know anything about this one...).

It’s easy to buy a workout DVD or subscribe to a nutrition plan that promises us a new body in sixty days or our money back. But it’s hard to cling whole-heartedly to God’s promises not just of health but of wholeness, for our bodies and for our creation.

It’s easy to buy a new novel and read an enthralling, romantic love story. But it’s hard to live out God’s new and alternative definition of love that isn’t bound to romance, emotions, or likability…but rather to commitment and action.

This, my friends, is why Jesus gave us the directive to love, not just as a nice suggestion, but as a commandment. “A new commandment I give you,” Jesus says, “that you love one another as I have loved you.”

How did Jesus love? By smashing through boundaries and limits to touch the unclean and to eat with tax collectors and sinners. By widening the circle to include women and slaves and outcasts and children and fishermen as leaders and disciples. And to what end? That the ends of the earth might be a part of God’s kingdom of newness and life, a kingdom that transcends all the human divides that plague our existence.

And so in this post-Easter world, on the far side of the resurrection, God has set a challenge before us. That we take a risk with Peter in believing that God is really, truly, honestly making all things new. That we take a chance on love that transforms the world, even as we ourselves have been transformed.

Let me tell you. It’s hard work.

You know it as well as I do. I mean, think for a moment about your own life. Where are the places in your life where you would rather draw boundaries than tear them down? Who is that one person or group of people that you struggle to reach out to in love? What is one piece of tradition or history that you are reluctant to give up in order to let God widen the circle?

Stepping fully into God’s new heaven and new earth means taking a risk. It means taking a leap of faith.

And this is precisely why we keeping coming back to this place to worship and study, and why we read and re-read our Bible, and why us preachers keep preaching, and why we keep repeating confessions and creeds and keep coming back to this holy meal: because we need help entering again and again into the flow of God’s new and living water. We need help trusting that God is making our world new. We need assurance that we too can be bearers of this newness.

My friends, each one of you is a beautiful child of God. And each one of you is a new creation. May God continue to refresh and renew you, may Christ guide you to love as he loved, and may the Holy Spirit carry you on the rush of the wind to new places, smashing through old boundaries, that you might come face to face with the new heavens and new earth that God is creating in and among you.

"figs" by chez loulou, on Flickr

Ash Wednesday
by Louis Untermeyer

I
Shut out the light or let it filter through
These frowning aisles as penitentially
As though it walked in sackcloth. Let it be
Laid at the feet of all that ever grew
Twisted and false, like this rococo shrine
Where cupids smirk from candy clouds and where
The Lord, with polished nails and perfumed hair,
Performs a parody of the divine.

The candles hiss; the organ-pedals storm;
Writhing and dark, the columns leave the earth
To find a lonelier and darker height.
The church grows dingy while the human swarm
Struggles against the impenitent body’s mirth.
Ashes to ashes. . . . Go. . . . Shut out the light.

II
And so the light runs laughing from the town,
Pulling the sun with him along the roads
That shed their muddy rivers as he goads
Each blade of grass the ice had flattened down.
At every empty bush he stops to fling
Handfuls of birds with green and yellow throats;
While even the hens, uncertain of their notes,
Stir rusty vowels in attempts to sing.

He daubs the chestnut-tips with sudden reds
And throws an olive blush on naked hills
That hoped, somehow, to keep themselves in white.
Who calls for sackcloth now? He leaps and spreads
A carnival of color, gladly spills
His blood: the resurrection—and the light.

"Wild Apples" by Thomas ♫, on Flickr

"Snow Robins" by gerrymoran1, on Flickr

Presence
By Stephen Leake

Across the dark, a robin learns the Winter.
A candle dissolves; frank and sensuous
Against the extending light.
The streets remain illegible with snow.

I travel through you; uncurling
Where weather decorates the night
And naves of Christmas pines
Grasp human shadows.

Alone I go, echoing carols
In powdered places. Echoes that are glorified.
Prolonged.

Until I find you on the bench
Pressed with our pasts.
A child again. Tricked and traced by
Memory’s gift. Lasting. Imprinted.

A proof of the year’s new world.

http://www.christmas-time.com/presence.htm