Sermon from 3/7/21 John
2:13-22
This week we will mark an anniversary: One year since the
world shut down in what seemed like the blink of an eye. One year since everything on our calendars
was marked canceled, the stores sold out of toilet paper and we figured out if
our webcams worked and how to share zoom links.
Don’t worry, we won’t be rolling out a cake or exchanging gifts for this
anniversary, I won’t even say “happy” anniversary. Our memento is half a million graves and our
gifts are the masks we have learned to tighten around our noses.
When I think back to one year ago I have so many emotions
and thoughts. There are things I wish I
would have known then and things I am glad I did not know … like how long it
would last. When we look at things in
hindsight we can see it all with new wisdom but the emotions can still feel
very real.
The Gospel passage today is written in hindsight. The passage ends with “After he was raised from the dead, his disciples
remembered that he had said this; and they believed the scripture and the word
that Jesus had spoken.” We get to hear
the wisdom they have gained in hindsight. Looking back on it, they finally
understand it and they believe. I bet
there are things they wish they would have known during those days of walking
with Jesus and I bet there are things they are glad they did not know … like
that the Temple actually would be destroyed in the near future.
Even written in hindsight the emotions
are still vivid, deep and palpable.
Perhaps more so knowing that the Temple was in fact destroyed and that
the temple of Jesus’ body was in fact destroyed. The “zeal” or passion Jesus has as he runs
around shouting, throwing money and kicking over tables while flinging a cord
around; the heat of the moment as he is challenged once again by arguments; the
sadness of sharing his nearing death to ears that do not understand and the
nostalgia the early hearers of this story must have felt as they heard their
beloved and destroyed temple described … all of these emotions are strong, real
and very relatable.
I can relate so deeply to these
emotions and the rollercoaster of emotions during this past year. The anger and frustration as we have failed
again and again to come together, to agree to a shared set of data, facts and
best practices that could end or slow the spread. The political arguments, the anger and
frustration over racial injustices, the people screaming at each other over
mask wearing and the constant criticism for being too careful or not careful enough. All the while marked by a sadness and despair
as we wrestle with our mortality and feel the pain of so many mourning the loss
of loved ones. The emotions are strong,
real and relatable.
I remember feeling just about every
possible emotion during the holidays.
COVID numbers were spiking and so we carefully gathered in spaced apart
circles, with masks, with limited numbers, mostly outdoors for our Christmas
Eve service. Meanwhile a quick swipe
down my social media feeds showed people having large gatherings, going to
parties and singing shoulder to shoulder without a mask in sight. So there was frustration. The service was beautiful and celebrating the
birth of Christ in a field at night warmed my heart as we stood out on the lawn
and held up the light of our candles.
But when I entered the worship space I felt a deep sadness that I wasn’t
happily watching my children process down the aisle dressed as donkeys or
angels. During the days that followed as
a new year approached I felt nostalgic for holidays of the past and my heart
swelled with grief as my grandmother took her final labored breaths. By New Year’s Eve I was ready to be done with
the sentimental holidays and could only muster a half-hearted “celebration”
with the kids as I set out sparkling grape juice and some silly hats for us to
wear. So we put on our pajamas, snuggled
up on the bed with our new puppy and hoped we could at least faintly see the
fireworks from Pike’s Peak. It ended up
being a clear night and the fireworks were lovely as were the giggles and
hugs. To my surprise I didn’t feel sad
or nostalgic or frustrated at all … I felt complete peace, looking in hindsight
at all the emotions of the past year as waves coming to and from the shore,
gentle, rhythmic, changing, temporary …
That’s the beauty of hindsight; the
emotions are still there but with the added wisdom and assurance that it all
works out. The destruction of the temple
was utterly devastating, but as those earliest Christians retold the stories of
Christ and remembered his words they understood, they believed and they knew it
worked out just as he said it would.
Every year we retell these stories,
every year we reenter into Lent and every year we have this time of careful
reflection and repentance, but we always get to do it in hindsight. We know the way the story ends. When we read about the suffering and death of
Christ the emotions are real but with the added gifts of wisdom and faith …
knowing it worked out just as he said it would.
I can’t wait to one day gather
together and look at the whole COVID experience in hindsight. Some days I crave that deeply. I wonder what our future selves might say to
us as they look back to this time with hindsight. Perhaps they might remind us of why we retell
these stories, why we relive them, why we carry out our traditions and
liturgies … so that we don’t forget the words of Christ … so that we never
forget that they are always true and the love and assurance of Christ is
true.
