Preached at Metamora UMC 9/6/15

“Let’s Talk” Mark 7:24-37

I realize this may sound weird for a preacher to say, but sometimes I find words really boring.  I know, here I am bombarding you with an onslaught of words and I am confessing that I sometimes get bored with words.  The emphasis on sometimes, hopefully you won’t this time.  But so many times words are empty or people talk just to talk.  So many times people just want you to buy something or think like them and the words are not sincere.  They are slanted, empty, repetitive and … boring.

Perhaps no more so than during the political season.  People hire speech writers and those who are trained in how to use words to persuade people.  Most politicians, not all, are quite careful with their words knowing the things that will get people to trust them and believe them.  And so we hear debates, speeches, commercials, interviews, attacks … all words.

Whether it’s a politician, a teacher, a preacher or even a friend, when I feel like it is insincere, like the words are empty, the motives are slanted, the message overly repetitive, I get bored.  Blah, blah, blah.  No thank you.  In an age where we have millions of things to entertain us right in the palm of our hand, I’ll skip the empty words and scan my twitter feed for something amusing instead … like a baby Panda climbing out of a crib.

But then, there are times when words are precious.  When they are valuable, life-changing, and powerful.  And sometimes we miss them because we are too quick to tune out.  Sometimes in the midst of empty speeches, advertisements and blah blah blah there is something precious.  Sometimes words can change everything.  In the Gospel reading today Jesus shows us that words can change everything.

This story about the Syrophoenician woman is a tricky one.  You see the problem is, what Jesus says is very upsetting.  Jesus is in foreign territory, among people that are historically enemies of the Jews.  So in this conversation with the woman there are a lot of reasons for separation between the two: Jesus is Jewish, she is Gentile, Jesus is an itinerant preacher she is a Greek land owner, and she is a female and he is a male at a time when men are to be dominant and women submissive.  But here they are talking, maybe even debating in this foreign land, alone.  She wants healing for her daughter.  Jesus makes reference to a meal to say that healing is for the Jews first and then compares her daughter to a dog.  Here’s the problem, to call someone a dog is a big insult.  It sounds mean, harsh, racist and upsetting.  So how do we make sense of this coming from Jesus?

I  have heard preachers tackle it from a variety of different angles.  Some will say that what Jesus says is wrong and the woman beats him in the argument, he learns and is changed.  Some will say Jesus says this to test her.  Others might say Jesus is flawed here and shows that he is fully human.  Still others might find ways to show that what he says isn’t all that bad.  Either way, what Jesus says is what we have to work with.  And it’s what she had to work with.  Her daughter needed healing, she is a woman, a Gentile, asking this Jewish preacher for help and being called a dog.  So … what now?

Well, she speaks.  She uses what she has- her words.  She challenges what Jesus says and asks for even the crumbs.  And Jesus says “because of what you said, go home; the demon has already left your daughter.”  The message is clear, what Jesus brings is not just for the Jews, it is even for this woman, this foreigner, formerly thought of as an enemy.  This takes place just after Jesus flips over the understanding of what is clean and unclean and before he feeds 4,000 people (including Gentiles).  So whatever the reason for how Jesus does it, what he says and why he says it- the message is clear, he is here for everyone.  There is enough to eat for everyone no matter what label others may put on you.  The woman receives what she came for, her daughter is healed because of her words.  She came to understand what Jesus offers, who he is through her words.  And Jesus heals her daughter not by touching her or visiting her or offering her anything, just words.  Sometimes words are life-changing.

Then we go from that place to another foreign place where he meets a suffering man.  A man who is deaf and can barely speak and the people beg for him to be healed.  The way in which Jesus heals this man is dramatically different from the way he just healed the Syrophoenician woman’s daughter.  Then he simply said, “go home, she’s healed.”  But now it is much more dramatic.  Jesus takes the man in private, sticks his fingers in his ears, spits, touches his tongue, looks up, sighs and says “be opened.”  Perhaps as strange for our modern day ears as the last story but for different reasons.  It crosses many boundaries most of us like to maintain- spit, ear touching, shouting, all a little uncomfortable.  But even with all of the differences between this healing story and the story before it of the Syrophoenician woman, there is something that is the same.  Jesus announces healing with his words.  Imagine how powerful it was for that deaf man to hear the words “be opened.”  Two words, life-changing and forever kept in time by this book we read from and proclaim.

This book of words that bring us these stories of healing, new life, salvation.

The Bible is after all just words.  More words in a sea of speeches, advertisements, jingles, shouting and blah blah blah.  Words in a world of endless chatter.  But, the truth is, words are all we have.    We don’t get to run up to Jesus walking through our town and beg for  healing.  We don’t get to feel his fingers open our ears and loosen our tongues.  But we have these words.  Life-changing words.   After Jesus heals that deaf man one of the translations I read says that the people say, “he even has made the deaf to hear and given a voice to the voiceless.”  These words can help us to hear and give us a voice, even all these years later.

I have a one and a half year old son who right now is trying to learn words.  Even though his 4 year old brother has taught him the words that he feels are important like “blast” “roar” “poop” and “hot dog”  my youngest often gets frustrated because it’s hard to communicate when you don’t have the right words.  I’ve read a lot of articles about temper tantrums over the last four years and many people believe they come from an inability to communicate one’s needs.  So, the child wants something but can’t get that message across and so he gets frustrated and again not having the right words to say how he feels, he short-circuits which looks like a screaming, crying, flailing mess.  With my youngest this often happens when I won’t give him something he wants like a snack or his pacifier or a tiny object he could choke on.  I explain this to him in my most rational way, but not having the words to argue back or state his case, he freaks instead.  Usually it doesn’t work unless of course it’s in a public place like church in the middle of the sermon and I just want him to be quiet.

I feel for him.  Words are important.  I get frustrated when I can’t find the right words.  Maybe because I can’t remember something or I’m too upset or surprised or just don’t know what to say.  So I try to be mindful of that as I undergo this crazy parenting task of equipping my children with the right words.  I try to teach them how to use words to say how they feel.  I try to teach them how to use words to build other people up and stay away from words that hurt others.  I try to teach them words for praying, worship and faith.  I try to teach them the words they will need for their lives, give them the proper equipment for their journey.

Throughout their lives they will encounter so many things, probably things I can’t even imagine.  They will learn new information,  meet new people and have adventures.   They will get their hearts broken, contemplate the pain of life, make important decisions and maybe even raise their own children.  As a parent you just want them to do all of this the best they can, be as prepared as they can be and every second remember that they are loved.  So we teach them.  We start with nursery rhymes and “mama” “dada.”  Then we move to colors, numbers and animal sounds.  Eventually we teach them words like internet and technology and math.  And eventually we teach them words like peace, hope, life, death, future and faith.  All the while hoping the right ones stick.

Here we are, a people who carry around this book we call the Bible.  Full of words.  Words of healing, words of peace, prophecy, love, hope, faith, resurrection.  We study it, reflect on it and pray from it using the best words we can find.  Then we pass it on to the next generation.  This is what God has given us.  Life-changing words.  Leaving us as prepared as we can be and teaching us that every second we are loved.

The people said that Jesus “makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak” or gives a “voice to the voiceless.”  We are invited to open our hearts to these words, unclog our ears to what Jesus teaches and use our words, our voices for God’s purposes.  How will we use our words?  Will we bring about healing? Will we cross boundaries and dare to proclaim God’s love to all? Even those who live in foreign places?  Those that may be called names or rejected or live on the fringes of society or have nowhere else to go?  Will we use our voice, our words to bring peace and comfort to those who suffer, to share life-changing words about hope and resurrection?

You and I are here because we believe in words.  We have felt the power of Christ’s words.  I know that next week you are beginning a preaching series on the Ten Commandments called “The Words of God.”  Words have power, they can be life-changing.  How can we tune out the empty words, the noise, the shouting, the blah blah blah and open our ears to these life-changing words?  How can we stop the chatter, the words of judgment, the words of anger, the words of self doubt, the empty words coming from our own mouths and speak from the voice Christ has brought us?  Maybe we can start by hearing those life-changing words Christ utters with his finger on the deaf man’s tongue, “be opened.”  And be opened to the one who “makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak.”

Sermon from Bethlehem ELCA Pemberville 8/16/15

“Anger” Matthew 5:17-24

So when I emailed Pastor Matt asking for the scriptures I was to preach on today I did not expect him to reply with “the hard sayings of Jesus.”  Something more along the lines of “peace, love, butterflies and joy” would have sounded easier than “anger.”  But, here I am, on the first Sunday of a new preaching series tackling a “hard saying of Jesus” and the topic of anger.  And the truth is, diving into this difficult topic, digging into this seemingly harsh passage has been a gift for me this week and I hope that as you reflect, meditate and think on this passage you too will find it a gift … an insight into your soul … a way forward in a precarious situation.

So before this passage Jesus delivers the Beatitudes or the “blessed are the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the pure in heart, etc.”  A very popular, powerful and beautiful sermon from Jesus.  And then he talks about salt and light, how his followers are the salt of the earth and light of the world … important and needed.  So you get the sense that what Jesus is saying is pivotal, meaningful.  He really wants people to pay attention, understand and truly live out his words.  I would imagine him impassioned, pouring his heart into each word.
So it may not be a surprise then that the passage we read from today is so strongly worded.  From what he says, it sounds like there were people who thought he had come to do away with the law, erase everything the Old Testament teaches and lay out a new, maybe even easier plan.  But he explains that this is not the case.  He has come “not to abolish but to fulfill.”  And he is calling on his followers to carry out the law too.  To be devoted, righteous, even more righteous than the scribes and Pharisees he says.
I think that all of this is important for us to understand what Jesus says next about anger.  It sounds as though he is trying to really convey the seriousness of his message, the commitment required and the higher calling it entails.

And that’s when he brings up the commandment “You shall not murder.”  Jesus basically says “let’s take this a step further.”  It’s not just about murder, it’s about anger.  He says anger, insults, name-calling are all included in this- even someone having something against you.  He explains that if you “remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift.”  Basically, go and make it right, and then make your offering.

Does this make you cringe a little?  Maybe you notice yourself slumping down in your seat a little lower?  Perhaps it makes your stomach hurt or brings out a nervous tic?  If it does, you aren’t alone because … we all get angry.  Whether it’s a long-lasting family feud that consumes you or frustration at the guy who took your parking spot, we have all felt anger.  And I’m going to go ahead and guess that many, maybe all of us have someone out there who has something against us.  People we have made angry, people that have made us angry, people we avoid, or get upset when we think about.  I’m also going to go ahead and guess that we have all insulted another, I think it would be generous to say we have called someone a “fool” and probably more realistic to use much harsher and less appropriate words.  We have all been there, we have all done it.  This passage is talking to us, to our hearts.  It hits home.

Anger is natural, it is human, it’s part of the fight or flight instinct, right?  Part of my training to become a pastor was to learn how to let people feel.  Help people identify and express their feelings, talk through their hurts and feel safe and loved.  So I have said to people “it’s ok to be angry.”  It is a feeling.  My 3 year old son has said to me “I’m angry mommy!” And I say “well that’s ok, I understand that you are angry.”
But something about anger also feels scary, painful and dark.  Maybe it’s because we have all seen anger manifest itself in ways that are unhealthy, violent, dark and hurtful.  Anyone who has ever been on the receiving end of an insult can tell you it does not feel good.  Being called a fool hurts.  And those aren’t the worst ways we have felt anger.  Everyday we see anger turn into terrible acts on the news.  Sometimes we are around people who are hurting and use their anger to make others hurt.  Some people will say the meanest thing they can, try to cut deep, leave a scar … with words.  And some people get stuck in the anger.  It consumes them.  Anger clouds their vision so that the world looks like an angry and hostile place.  Every interaction just brings out more anger, and the person sinks deeper into the darkness of despair, loneliness and pain.  Anger can hurt.

Jesus addresses this.  This feeling that is common to us all, this emotion that can lead to so much more.  Jesus explains that it’s not about a checklist of actions.  It’s not about avoiding the really bad behaviors or doing a, b and c.  Rather, it’s deeper.  The way of Christ is deeper, soul deep.  It’s about the roots.  Jesus cares not just about our avoidance of crime, but he cares about what is in our hearts.  He is calling us to follow a God who cares deeply, so deeply that God wants us to be in right relationship with one another.  God wants us to go and make it right with our brothers and sisters.  To purify our hearts and our world.  And so Jesus explains that yes we are not to murder one another, but there is more to it than that.  We need to be in relationship.  We need to love one another.  We need to check that anger, before it leads to the dark places.
Anger has a way of leading us to do things we might not normally do.  We might say awful things or put ourselves into dangerous situations or burn bridges.  We might really hurt people.  And I’m sure we all have.  Jesus believes in our ability to be more.  To control our emotions rather than letting them control us.  Jesus teaches us that relationships are serious, the way we treat one another is serious, and it is important to  God.
Just recently I had an interaction that made me really angry.  A conversation in which someone said things that were meant to hurt me and insult me.  I felt my blood boil after.  I thought of all of the mean and nasty and hurtful things I could have said.  It felt awful to be in that place.  The anger stayed with me for a while and even though I prayed about it and looked for answers, it just felt like I couldn’t shake it.  And then I was reminded of the pain this other person is going through, the situations they are dealing with that caused the emotions I bore the brunt of.  And I felt compassion and it was a relief.  Compassion is a much easier place to live in than anger.

But I get it.  I get the struggle.  And Jesus does too.  Jesus overturned tables and was disappointed by people again and again.   The pharisees and scribes tried again and again to provoke him.  The Bible tells us that God expresses anger with God’s people several times in the Old Testament.  Anger is real.  It is something we all experience.  But it’s not stronger than the peace of God.  In fact, when we let the Holy Spirit in on our anger then it can become a force for good.  A force for justice, peace and love in the world.  A voice for the voiceless, a heart for the oppressed, courage for the vulnerable.

On October 10, 2013 Malala Yousafzai was interviewed by Jon Stewart of the Daily Show.  The Daily Show is typically a satirical, comedy show, but her interview was powerful and she said some very serious things.  Malala is Pakistani teenager.  At the time of the interview she was 16.  She had been hunted and shot by the Taliban because she was fighting for education.  She was watching as the Taliban closed down her school and many other schools, as she and others like her were told that education was wrong and that it was no longer a possibility for them.  And she knew in her heart that education was important and so she fought for it.  Imagine that, a teenager fighting to be able to go to school.  When she found out that the Taliban wanted to kill her she thought about what she would do if they came for her.  She said at first she thought “I’ll throw a shoe at them” and then she realized that would make her like them.  Lashing out and hurting another in anger.  She would have been acting out of hatred just as they were.  So she decided that she would tell them the importance of education and that it is something she wants for herself and even for the children of her attackers as well.  That she wanted something good, even for them.  She would repay anger with goodness.  And then she would say “now do what you want.”

It was powerful to hear a young girl who had been shot, who was simply fighting for the right to go to school, speak about overcoming hate with love, violence with peace, uncontrolled anger with intelligence and a call for justice.

Life is unfair and there is much to anger us.  I get angry when I see terrorists doing the unthinkable to innocent people in Syria and Iraq.  I get angry when I hear of the injustices in our own country against those who are poor or black or labeled as different.  I get angry when I see people hurting each other.  I get angry when people try to hurt me.  I get angry when life seems unfair.  When good people are hurting.  When people I care about are struggling.  I felt angry when my close friend lost her life to cancer.  And sometimes it feels good to go with the anger, to brew, to go to the dark place, to say the nasty thing we think of, to bully or lash out.  But Jesus cares about what is in our hearts.  Jesus is calling is to something more, something deeper.  Jesus is telling us to go and make it right.  Love one another, make our relationships a priority.  Don’t let the anger push out the love in our hearts.

In the end, I’m glad that Pastor Matt entrusted me with this passage and this topic.  I would say it took me on somewhat of a journey.  When I first read the passage I thought “come on!  Don’t even be angry??  this is a little much.”  I felt defensive and called out for the feelings of anger in my own  heart.  And then I started digging, into the passage, into my heart, into the world around me and it didn’t seem so difficult.  It actually seemed incredibly gracious and hopeful.  We serve a God who loves us so deeply and cares for us so intimately that God looks into our hearts.  That God offers a better way than life with darkness, bitterness and isolation.  Our God calls us to love one another with the kind of love that is so pure and so powerful that even our deepest darkest anger can not drive it out.

Sermon from St Stephen’s ELCA in Sylvania 7/19/15

Mark 6:30-34, 53-56
What does desperation look like?  Perhaps a mob of hopeful deal-seekers running through the Walmart doors at 6am on Black Friday, desperately grabbing toasters and tablets?  Or maybe that doesn’t sound like true desperation to you, but when I see the footage of black Friday mobs on the news, their faces look desperate.  But maybe we can be more sympathetic to the times we have seen desperation in more dire situations.  Like after the Haiti earthquake when people who had just lost everything crowded around distribution trucks desperately hoping for something that would quench their thirst and fill their bellies just to get through another day.  Or after the earthquake in Nepal as rescuers desperately sorted through rubble hoping to make it to survivors in time.

While most of us have probably never been in an earthquake like that or pushed and shoved our way toward a black Friday discount, we still can probably think of times we have witnessed desperation.  Times when we have seen a loved one in pain, or maybe watched someone give an apology with true regret and shame.
The scenes described in the Gospel reading for today sound desperate.  People running by foot from distant towns.  And in the section not read today, 5,000 hungry people with only five loaves and two fish.  People carrying the sick on mats …begging to touch the cloak of Jesus.  Sheep without a shepherd.  When I picture these scenes I see that desperation, the look of despair I have seen on the faces of those in pain- in need … teetering on the edge of hopelessness.

When we see that hopelessness and despair in another we have to make a decision about what we will do.  We may chose to ignore it, which might sound callous and cold but sometimes it’s also just reality.  If we agonize over every desperate situation we see on the news or our hearts break over every person who asks us for help then we will live in a constant state of sadness and pain.  So sometimes we change the channel, continue on to check our email or politely nod and carry on.  Some days we go through life as survivors, putting one foot in front of the other, carrying on, trudging through even when those around us are falling.  So yeah, we might ignore the desperation of others from time to time, but we are human, we can only take so much.  Maybe we’ve become desensitized, overwhelmed or too blinded by our own hurts, whatever the reason, I just don’t think we can be everything that everyone needs.

There are other times though when the hopelessness of others causes us to feel guilty, or maybe even angry.  How can there be hungry people in the world while we throw away leftovers?  How does the way we live contribute to the hunger of others?  Maybe we think of all the things we should do, or the things others should do.  How can the world be so unjust?  So painful?

And then there are times when we join in.  When our hearts break with the brokenhearted, when our resources or talents can help relieve the pain of others.  When we can be helpful and maybe even change a situation.  Those are the times we remember, when we feel like a hero, when we feel useful and needed.
It is hard to figure out what to do when others are in pain or desperate.  And unfortunately we will see so much of it in our lives.  Sometimes we make the right decision, sometimes we make the wrong one and sometimes we just keep surviving.  But we do know how Jesus reacted when he saw those scenes of desperation.  We know that when he sees the weary and hungry disciples he invites them to take a break, come and rest.  When he sees the hungry crowds he breaks the bread and feeds them.  When he sees people carrying the sick on mats, begging to touch his cloak he heals them.  And when he sees the people on the shore like “sheep without a shepherd” he has compassion for them.  Jesus acts with compassion.

This is a model that we can follow.  When I think of my best moments in parenting, pastoring, being a friend and being a spouse, they are all motivated by compassion.  When my three year old is refusing to listen, freaking out over what I say, pushing the limits or just being difficult- if I can have compassion for him I know our day will go much better.  When I let frustration get the best of me then I yell or become mean or spend my day exhausted and disconnected.  When I look at him and see the tiny, helpless person he is with a great heart, a desire to please me and the best hugs in the world I can act with compassion.  Which doesn’t mean letting him get his way or never disciplining, but rather doing so with love and compassion rather than frustration and anger.  It always goes much better that way.  We spend the day more in tune with each other, more connected and happier.

The same was true when I was pastoring a church.  People can be difficult.  When someone’s harsh words, resistance to change or unwillingness to grow made me angry I tried my best to look at them with compassion.  Remember they are loved by God, I am called to love them, they are hurting, they want to feel loved …  Otherwise I would act too quickly, too harshly and spend my day feeling frustrated, exhausted and quickly burn out.

I believe that compassion is a huge part of any successful relationship.  When we lose it we turn the other person into an enemy, an emotionless opponent or a frustrating obstacle.  When we are compassionate we can see God at work in them, find ways they are calling us to growth and love and allow our hearts to be widened.

Jesus has compassion and that is a model for us to live by, something for us to strive for.  If we can reflect back compassion when we see desperation in the faces of others then we can minister to them, be the face of Christ for them and live our lives with more love, more peace and feeling more connected to others.
But beyond a model for us to follow, the fact that Jesus has compassion for the people tells us something about God that I think is really important.  Jesus is compassionate and God revealed to us in Jesus Christ is compassionate.  This is who God is.  No matter what others try to tell us about God, no matter the state of the world or the state of the hearts around us … God is compassionate.  And  that is something we can hold on to.

I’ve got to tell you, it’s been a rough summer for me.  A couple of weeks ago a close friend of mine died from cancer.  She was my age, had three wonderful little children and a loving husband.  She was an amazing person, incredibly well-loved, popular and I loved her.  I met her when I was the pastor of Woodville United Methodist Church.  She was diagnosed with breast cancer right before I left to go on family leave.  We stayed in touch and became friends, had play dates and continued to deepen our bond.  We connected spiritually and always seemed to understand each other.  After treatment and surgeries ended and all seemed to be well again … the cancer came back.  She knew it was terminal.  Our visits changed in tone a bit.  We planned her funeral together, cried together, talked about death.  About a month ago her liver died from the chemo.  The end was near.

The journey over the past month was hard.  Somehow her faith was rock solid which somehow kept mine rock solid.  On June 29 she took a turn.  She was moved  to Hospice and I got there as fast as I could.  I held her hand as she breathed her last breath.  I went home, put the kids to bed and sat in the dark …my head spinning.  Emotions, questions, images running through me.  I felt mad, I felt alone, I felt incredibly sad.  I didn’t want to pray.  I didn’t want to attempt sleep.  A friend offered comforting words … “lean into God” she said.  I didn’t want to, but I also didn’t feel like I had a choice.  Where was  God?  Who was God?  Why did this happen?  What next?  And I remembered… God is compassionate.  I would never understand the rest.  I would never figure out the meaning of life.  I would never fully know what happens after this life, but I could wrap my mind around compassion.  Because that is what I felt when I looked at her friends and family as they grieved.  That is what God was feeling.  That brought me comfort.  It made sense to me.  It brought me rest.

A week later I stood in front of 600 plus people at her funeral and proclaimed the Gospel.  I said the familiar words of the funeral liturgy announcing resurrection, hope and peace.  Words of comfort, words of promise.  I fought the lump in my throat and warm tears behind my eyes and preached my heart out.  Because as I stood there in front of that big crowd of people, I saw desperation in their faces.  There was pain, there was hurt, some teetering on the edge of hopelessness.  And I had compassion for them.  We could have been like sheep without a shepherd, but as our quivering voices sang together the words of the hymns Laura chose for us, we proclaimed things like amazing grace, resurrection joy and hope into eternity.  We proclaimed a God who is present even in the darkness.

What got me through and what continues to get me through …and what will get me through this crazy life we lead, this life of ups and downs, joy and despair …is knowing that God is compassionate.  God has compassion for us.  That is a truth that I will proclaim and that I will hold onto with a clenched fist until I too enter into the big compassionate heart of God for all of eternity.  

Remember, Celebrate, Believe . . .sermon from Laura’s Memorial Service (July 2015)

It was about two and a half years ago, a cold January morning …a Sunday morning.  I was the pastor of Woodville United Methodist Church and invited the congregation to share any joys or concerns before the time of prayer.  After some people shared health concerns or milestone joys I saw Laura’s hand go up and she had that little smile on her face.  She stood up and said, “You better be good today because we have new visitors and I told them you were good!”  With her usual sass, wit and honesty Laura actually paid me a very nice compliment, but being right before the sermon she put the pressure on.  As I prepared this sermon I found myself remembering that day and today can hear Laura saying “this better be good!”  It’s a lot of pressure to try to find the words for this occasion, to try to find the words for a woman who was so good with words, who had so many words and who was able to share so beautifully, profoundly and deeply with so many people.  So, yeah it better be good, especially since I am the only person speaking, not because no one else here can, but because so many of you can.  Laura knew that so many of you could share so beautifully your personal stories and memories, perhaps too many.  But she also wanted this service to be about hope, joy and resurrection.  And so I too will share my personal stories of her friendship another time and instead point to where God is …where hope remains and where joy might be found …eventually.

Laura knew exactly which Gospel reading she wanted for this service.  When she told me my face lit up.  It’s my favorite Bible story and her’s too- the woman at the well.  I know, I know, it’s a bit of an odd favorite passage.  It’s not as poetic or quotable as the beautiful Psalms, it’s perhaps not as memorable as the advice Paul gives in his letters or the amazing accounts of an empty tomb.  It’s an interesting story about a woman going to get water and meeting Jesus.  We know that it takes place at noon, the middle of the day.  The only people who went to the well at noon were the ones who probably weren’t welcome to hang with the big crowds in the cooler parts of the day.  Going to the well at noon, alone, this woman stood out, and from what Jesus says about her, it sounds like she may have been living in a questionable situation and perhaps had a checkered past.  So she walks to the well, bearing it all- her past, her situation, all out in the open.
And she meets Jesus.  He asks for a drink and this Samaritan woman questions him, challenges him, she demonstrates deep knowledge and quick wit … maybe even sass.  She basically says “don’t you see we are different?  Where is your bucket if you want water? Who do you think you are?”  Jesus took a chance on this interaction, his disciples were not happy about it.  It was not socially acceptable to chat with a woman alone out in front of everyone, a Samaritan woman never the less.  He took a chance on her and it paid off.  She asks for the water he speaks of the water that will become a “spring of water gushing up to eternal life.”  And after they talk the woman drops her jar and goes and tells others.  She is filled with the living water and goes to share it with others.  Later in the passage it says “Many Samaritans from that city believed in him because of the woman’s testimony.”

Do you see now why it was her favorite?  A sassy, clever, quick-witted woman, not afraid to bear it all in public,  not intimidated, intelligent, questioning, pushing, seeking.  And the moment she finds something good, when she learns of life-giving waters, she goes out to tell others, she shares it.
I don’t need to tell you that Laura shared what she had, that she loved so many, so deeply.  I’ve heard many of you say “she made everyone feel like they were the most important person.”  Her sharing, her words, her way was so authentic, so honest that it drew others in.  On one of my recent visits with Laura I told her that she had a way of making people honest and authentic and then when they were, she still loved them.  People never forget that …I know I never will.

I don’t need to tell you a lot of things about Laura because you already know.  She reached out to so many people, did so many generous things for others, shared openly about her faith, her wisdom and her heart.  And yet there was also a part of her that was very private.  She held her children and Aaron close, cherished the time they had together and thought the world of them.  Even when she joked about “the bearded man” as she referred to him on social media, it was always with such love and respect.  She told me that she knew he would be great taking care of the kids because when she was so sick and tired after the intense chemo, she witnessed it.  She saw him taking care of the kids, doing all of it and being great at it.

And so much of who Laura was and what her legacy is, is her three monsters.  She reminded all of us to squeeze our monsters every chance we get.  Camille said her favorite thing to do with mommy was cuddles.  They all said that she cared for them even when she was sick.  And that love and care will be a part of who they are forever.  Even though she was tired and in pain, Laura wanted to do what she could to care for her children during the important moments of their lives.  Aaron shared with me a letter that she wrote for their first day of school.  It is neatly written in crayon, each line a different color, with a peace sign, heart and star on the side.  It says, “We hope you are having a great first day!  We wanted to remind you of a couple things … 1.  We love you!  Even if you don’t get all A’s.  Even if you forget your homework.  Even if you aren’t picked first in gym.  ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS!  2.  Listen to your heart.  If you notice someone sitting by themselves- go sit with them.  If people are picking on someone- stand up for them.  God speaks to your heart- LISTEN TO YOUR HEART.  3. Listen to your teachers.  Respect them always … Love, Mom and Dad”

Even when she breathed her last, her children were her biggest concern.  It was that love for them that fueled her strength through this disease and treatment.  It was her love and devotion for them that kept her from falling into despair or hopelessness.  That moved her to stay strong throughout it all.

God it’s hard.  This life we live, it requires strength.  I’m not going to stand here and give you some reason why all of this happened.  I’m not going to say it’s because she loved so much or God needed her or that there is some purpose to this.  There are a lot of really great reasons and purposes for her to still be here.  And Laura and I talked about this stuff and I gotta tell you the God I love and know and worship and see in the faces of her loved ones did not want this to happen.  God suffers with us, grieves with us, holds us compassionately in our darkest moments.  As Christians we are never told that life will be easy.  Christianity is not a get out of pain free pass.  Look what happened to Jesus, look what  happened to the apostles.  Pain, loss, suffering is part of what it means to be human.  If we are honest and bold then we can find our hope beyond it and beyond false explanations or fear or hiding or trying to control it.  We can find our hope in this beautiful, earth-shattering, eternally powerful thing we call resurrection.

In Jesus Christ God conquers death, God shows us that death is not the end, that nothing can separate us from the love of God, that hope, peace and joy live on into eternity.  The resurrection is our hope even in the depth of sadness.  Out of the pains of birth comes new life and out of the pain of death comes new life that we can not now understand but are called to embrace with faith.

Laura’s faith was so strong.  We had some deep, long talks these past few weeks and I can tell you 100 percent that she was unwavering in her faith.  I will forever be influenced and inspired by her faith.  She never believed that faith meant she would never suffer.  And so when the suffering came, her faith never left.  She knew she would be at peace, she knew she would be ok- she just wanted to make sure everyone else was.  Always taking care of others.  She worried about her friends, her family, her mom, her husband and kids.  She loved so deeply.  I remember that Christmas Eve service, the first one after her dad died.  With tear-soaked cheeks she walked out of church with a smile on her face and a shirt that her mom got her that brightly said “Love” across it.  Love in pain, faith over fear, hope in the darkness, faith is greater than worry …these are the things I believe she would say to us today.

A couple of years ago a well-known musician in The United Methodist Church from my seminary in New Jersey came to Woodville and put on a workshop.  Laura wrote in her blog:  “I enjoyed the music, the wisdom, the honesty, the fellowship…everything.  Yet, I can also state without hesitation, that this song was the most powerful part of the weekend for me.
 Believing even during the “why’s”. Believing when it would be easier to turn away. Believing in the sun even when it’s not shining.  Believing in love even when there’s no one there.  Believing in God even when he’s silent.
Can you imagine being a prisoner at a concentration camp and still believing; witnessing and suffering and fighting to stay alive and still believing?
Even when.
Believe.”
And then she quoted the original poem the song is based on , “written during World War II, on the wall of a cellar, by a Jew scratched on a wall in a concentration camp
“I believe in the sun
even when it is not shining
And I believe in love,
even when there’s no one there.
And I believe in God,
even when he is silent.
I believe through any trial,
there is always a way
But sometimes in this suffering
and hopeless despair
My heart cries for shelter,
to know someone’s there
But a voice rises within me, saying hold on
my child, I’ll give you strength,
I’ll give you hope. Just stay a little while.
I believe in the sun
even when it is not shining
And I believe in love
even when there’s no one there
But I believe in God
even when he is silent
I believe through any trial
there is always a way.
May there someday be sunshine
May there someday be happiness
May there someday be love
May there someday be peace….”
- Unknown

And this is the song that Laura wanted sung today.  She planned it all out, invited people to sing and assigned solos.  For a while the verses were her cover photo on facebook.  It speaks of her unwavering faith, her ability to see good, to see hope and give love even in the pain, even when her body was shutting down.
And so as I stood next to Laura, holding her warm hand as she lay in the Hospice bed, I saw that her breathing dramatically slowed and as the nurse ran to get Aaron who had only momentarily left her side and was right there again, I searched for the right words for someone who gave so many of us the right words.  I could hear Laura saying “this better be good”  and I leaned down and with my voice quivering I softly sang in her ear, “I believe in the sun, I believe in the sun, even when, even when it’s not shining…”

John 3:1-17 “Saving the World” Sermon from Monroe Street UMC 5/31/15

jenssw

I’m not what you might call a “huge sports fan” but any time a Cleveland team makes the playoffs I suddenly become very into sports.  I watch the games, I sit in suspense, cheer like crazy, talk about it the next day and even start paying a little bit of attention when my husband has Sports Center on tv.  If you know much about Cleveland sports, then you know this doesn’t happen too often, but it is happening right now.  The Cleveland Cavaliers basketball team just made it into the NBA finals.  So after the kids go to bed my husband and I have been marveling at Lebron James, hoping Kyrie can stay healthy enough to play and celebrating at the unexpected success of Dellavedova.

I enjoy watching the game and seeing the incredible talent and skill of the players, but I also realize that we are merely talking about guys playing a game, bouncing a ball and throwing it into a basket… seems pretty simple.  So why do I get emotional, hopeful and excited?  Why does that commercial with the entire city putting their hands in with Lebron move so many people?  Why do I feel like so much is riding on this simple game of catch and shoot?  Because it is about more.

I grew up in a working-class suburb of Youngstown, Ohio.  Perhaps you don’t know much about Youngstown, but I think you may find some similarities between Youngstown and Toledo.  It is a great place with great people where things like family, hard work and faith are valued.  But it’s economically depressed and has been since the steel mills shut down.  It’s a place that has lost a lot of people.  A “shrinking city” as they call it, where people leave to find jobs.  It’s a place that for a long time was considered the “murder capital of the world” and always is at the top of the “worst place to live” lists.  The winters are hard, the houses are cheap and the sports teams don’t win.  Being so close to Cleveland, many of us consider Cleveland teams to be our teams and they don’t win.  The last time Cleveland won a championship was with the Cleveland Browns in the 60s, before they had superbowls.  The Cavs have never won.

It feels like the land of the underdogs, a place others mock.  A place where some believe in new life and possibility, but many are hardened and pessimistic about the future.  A place where many are searching for hope.  So when Lebron James returned to Cleveland after playing for the Miami Heat it was exciting.  Someone was choosing this place.  Someone believed in the possibilities, was investing in the rust belt and the nation was watching with excitement rather than pity.

So when the men in Cavs uniforms take the court in the NBA finals there is this whole other level besides just guys bouncing a ball back and forth.  It feels like there is pride, hope, renewal and new life on the line.  Sure, it’s just a game, but some of us see something more going on.

In the Gospel reading today Nicodemus would be like the people who only see a simple game, who miss the other level happening.  Nicodemus is a bit literal-minded.  He sees Jesus as the man in front of him.  He sees a guy who can do great things.  He uses his logic- Jesus is doing things other people can’t do so he must come from God.  But when Jesus tries to take things beyond logic, to show him a whole other level, he gets lost.  Jesus explains that one must be born from above to experience the Kingdom of God, and Nicodemus can’t get past a literal understanding of birth.  Of course it is ridiculous to think that someone can go back in the womb and be born again …but Jesus is talking on a different level, he is talking Spirit stuff.  To some he may just seem like a man with a magic touch, a nice guy who can do good things but talks about strange things.  But there is this whole other level happening, the Holy Spirit at work.

One time when I was teaching a confirmation class one of the young women who had been wrestling with some faith questions excitedly came to tell me about a break through she had.  She said she was watching a ballet and she was moved by the talent, the music, and the beautiful movements.  Then something in her connected the beauty she saw with the work of the Holy Spirit.  She saw God at work on earth through beauty and it moved her very deeply.  She felt that she was now able to understand where God is in the world.  The things she  had previously experienced at face-value, now seemed like something more, a different level.  What seemed simple and matter of fact suddenly had much more meaning for her.

Perhaps this is a way of understanding that elusive, mysterious concept of the Holy Spirit.  That part of the Holy Trinity that is hard to explain because we do not see it with our eyes.  As Jesus says, it is like the wind, it blows where it chooses.  We don’t know where it comes from or where it goes.  It is unpredictable, unable to be pinned down and yet somehow all around us.

In the Church we have a lot of words for talking about this Spirit stuff.  We have the Holy Trinity, Holy Mystery, 3 in 1 and 1 in 3.  In the Church we use words all the time that require us to look past what is merely around us and explore a deeper level.  Words like grace, mercy, sacrament, conversion, faith and belief.  Words that to others may sound strange or lacking in logic, but to many of us speak to a different kind of reality that while not as visible as the person next to you, is just as real and felt.

The Holy Spirit moves us, compels us, challenges us, comforts us, names us and yet it is not something I can define.  It’s more than what we see around us.  And this is what Jesus is talking to Nicodemus about.  Where he sees acts and physical birth, Jesus sees the work of God and spiritual birth.
At the end of the passage today we come to that very famous verse “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.”  So maybe this is why Jesus is trying to help Nicodemus understand this Spirit stuff.  Maybe this is why the Church uses such mysterious Spirit language.  Maybe this is why the Holy Spirit moves and works among us … to save the world.

The doors of our churches, the language we use, the beliefs we hold, the Scriptures we attest to are not so that we can sit in comfort and condemn others around us, but rather to save the world.  “God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”  Perhaps this is why the Spirit does not merely comfort and console us but also inspires and stirs us, compels us to action.  Shows us this whole other level.

When we are born of the Spirit we have eyes to see the Spirit at work all around us.  We see and are moved by the pains of the world.  We see war, drought, flooding, tragedy, illness and despair.  We hear about ISIS and children starving in Africa and we also see the pain on the faces of those around us.  We watch loved ones decay and see children cry.  But at the same time we know of this other work happening.  We know there is more to it than just what we can see or explain with logic.  The Spirit is at work.  We know about hope, beauty, resurrection, eternal life, peace and unconditional love.  That God our Creator does not leave us alone but moves in our lives, in our hearts and in our world.

We see and are moved by the joy of the world.  We see peaceful reconciliations, rainbows, sunny days, babies born, healing and love expressed.  We close our eyes to try to take in all the joy around us- the laughter of children, the sound of the birds, the goodness of those near.  And we know that there is something going on here besides just the earth spinning, there is Spirit stuff.

You know when I was young I used to say that I wanted to save the world.  People would laugh and remark on the innocence of youth or say things about how they felt the same way until they aged and became more aware of reality.  It just made me feel more strongly.  I wanted to make a difference, to make things better, to bring light to dark places and hope to desperation.  I wanted to do things bigger than the economically depressed area I was in, be more than I was.  And while I still desperately want to make a positive impact on the world and hope that my life is lived for good, my understanding of saving the world has changed.
I have realized that I don’t need to save the world because God already is.  Spirit stuff is happening all around us, ushering in the Kingdom of God, on earth as it is in heaven. There is more happening beyond what we can see.  In all of the places of the world, even the cities that top the lists of worst places to live … and maybe even in Cleveland sports teams.

So let us be compelled by the Spirit, moved to join in God’s saving work in the world. Let use see beyond what is around us, let us see the mysterious, unpredictable and beautiful work of the Holy Spirit. 

Sermon from St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church 5/10/15

John 15:9-17

The first thing I thought of when I read the Gospel for this week is weddings. I have preached on this passage during several weddings I have officiated. So I was excited to preach on it because I have a positive association with it. I love officiating weddings. I have probably officiated 25 or so weddings and I can honestly say I have loved every single one. I love the premarital counseling and getting to know the couple, hearing their story and guiding them in their future planning. I love the marriage ceremony’s liturgy which is almost identical to the Prayer Book wedding liturgy: the powerful language, ancient metaphors, poetic words and beautiful symbols. And I love being a part of that happy moment with the couple. I get to look into their tear-filled eyes, hear their careful breathing as they say their vows and see the supportive looks of all of their friends and family.


This may seem obvious, of course I like weddings, they are nice happy occasions, but the truth is almost every pastor I know would much rather do a funeral than a wedding. Many of my clergy colleagues can’t stand doing weddings. And I understand some of their frustrations, it is annoying when a couple bosses you around or makes unreasonable demands or seems to really only care about a lovely picture rather than the lifelong promises they are making. There have been moments when I wanted to say “we actually believe this stuff we are saying” as a couple seemed disinterested or apathetic about the religious language and scriptures. There are times when you feel undervalued, used or irritated. That can weigh on a person after many years. But I think more than that, weddings are hard when you do really love the couple. You hear their stories, you enjoy being a part of their journey, they seem committed to the church and then as the last of the artificial rose petals are swept away you realize, they are never coming back. You and the faith community you want so much for them to experience will never see them again. This is not always the case, but unfortunately many times it is and it can be heartbreaking as their pastor.


It’s also heart breaking when the marriage ends in divorce. You care about the couple, you are rooting for them and your heart breaks to see their tears of joy turned to tears of pain. After the tuxedos are returned and the cake is consumed, the truth of marriage is revealed … love is hard. It is hard to constantly give of yourself, open your heart and always make compromises. And sometimes for many different reasons it just doesn’t work.

It is also hard to open your heart as a pastor to people over and over again and experience rejection and disappointment. The frustration of unmet goals, the constant need to compromise with so many different people, always giving of yourself and opening your heart. . . it is hard. Love in all of it’s forms in all different relationships is hard.

All of us have experienced the difficulty of love at some point. Whether as a spouse, parent, sibling, friend, pet lover or as a member of a church. Living in relationship with others brings challenges. We get our feelings hurt, we hurt the feelings of others, we experience frustration and disappointment, boredom and unmet needs and sometimes we just want to walk away. Sometimes as pastors, friends, brothers, sisters, church members, it’s just too hard to keep on putting your heart out there.

This realization about the challenges of love is why this Gospel reading is actually kind of terrifying. It’s all about love. Jesus is speaking to his disciples. He is explaining that he comes from God, he is preparing to give his life for the world, to take upon himself all of the pain and suffering of the world and redeem it. And he tells his followers what they need to do to abide in him, to have their joy complete and to live in God. He says “this is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.”



On the one hand it’s very simple in an “all you need is love” kind of way. Ditch the complicated lists of dos and don'ts and just love. But on the other hand it’s completely crazy. All we need to do is love one another as Christ loves us. Love others as the Savior of the world, Son of God, the one who (at the time he said this) is about to give his life on the cross, the one who can bring healing and hope, the one who is eternal … love others as he loves us. That’s all.


It’s an incredible challenge, “love one another as I have loved you.” Even without the “as I have loved you” it’s still difficult. Love is effort, sacrifice, forgiveness and risk. This seems like a radical command. I think I might prefer something more along the lines of “thou shall not murder” rather than a command to love others the way Jesus does. Refraining from murder seems much more doable than laying down one’s life for one’s friends. And yet this is our command, to love as Jesus loves.

“Command” is such a powerful word. In the Church we put a lot of weight on the word “commandment.” In the midst of all of the confusing passages of the Bible, the poems and stories that are not always easy to understand, the commandments seem direct, clear and easy to grasp. But, in the first 17 verses of this chapter that we read from today the word “abide” actually appears eleven times and “bear fruit” appears seven times. While the word commandment is only used three times. Perhaps then this passage is less about a list of rules to follow, a specific criteria for doing right- and more about a state of being. Maybe the “command” part is not something to cause anxiety or worry, but rather a way of helping us understand this bigger message about abiding and bearing fruit.


Sometimes we are so anxious to do things right, craving direction, wanting to know what to do, that we focus a little too much on words like “commandments” and “rules.” Sometimes we get too hung up on what to do. Sometimes we just focus on the difficult, maybe even impossible commandments and then are left feeling like we aren’t good enough … frustrated that we can’t get it right.


I often feel this way about parenting. It seems there is always a list of things parents should and should not do. Always an “expert” with a rule book for parenting. Always judging glares from observers. Always things we feel we should be doing but aren’t or shouldn’t be doing but are. As I watched my one year old lick butter off of a plate the other day, I definitely had the feeling I was doing something I should not. Children can really push the boundaries of our expectations about appropriate behavior. Perhaps you might remember about a year ago, right here in this very worship space, my then 2 year old decided to make a run for it down the aisle during worship. My attempt to stop him was met with a complete screaming melt down, limp legs tantrum. Which meant I had to pick him up while he was crying and try my best not to smash the newborn I was also holding in my arms. It was not a great moment. It was public, it was loud, it felt awful. Definitely one of those times when I felt I was doing everything I “shouldn't” in parenting.


Parenting is hard. One moment I’m worried my children are spoiled and undisciplined and then next I feel guilty for being too hard on them and can’t believe how well-behaved they are. And all along the way I feel like I do everything wrong. One of the great things about being a stay at home mom is that I get to spend a lot of time with other parents and learn that they all feel that way too. Parenting is hard… love is hard.


I was especially feeling this way on Wednesday morning. Jeremiah was away at clergy conference. I had just spent 24 hours with just me and the kids. All went well until bed time when my one year old Isaiah decided to throw all of my shoes into a pile and then the moment his diaper was off he ran over and peed all over them. There was little time for cleaning them as my three year old was attempting to smash his brother with an ottoman. Eventually they both peacefully fell asleep with their teeth brushed, pajamas on and only a minimal amount of food on their faces. I was feeling accomplished until the wake ups began. Isaiah woke up at 9, 10, 11, 1, 4, 5 and then was up for the day at 6. Oscar woke up at 3 just to tell me he was sad.


So at 7am I was lying there in bed, Isaiah cracking up as he beat my eye with a pacifier and then my 3 year old climbed into the bed. His hair was all messy and his cheeks were soft as he wrapped his body around mine. His little breath was on my neck as he whispered into my ear, “Mommy, I love you more than anything in the world.” And then he snuggled on one side and Isaiah snuggled on the other side and for a few minutes or so it was heaven. And parenting didn’t feel hard at all. Love did not feel like a challenge. We just laid there, not doing anything wrong, not doing anything right, just giving and receiving love.

Just before Jesus gives his commandment to love as he loves he says “I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit …” Maybe this passage is more about abiding rather than commanding. More about just being, rather than doing things right or wrong. Jesus says that God is the vine-grower, he is the vine and his followers are the branches. The branches then bear fruit. God loves Jesus, Jesus loves us, we abide in his love.

What if love is less about getting it right, less about doing the right things and more about just being a branch? Living in the love of God and allowing that love to bear fruit? Allowing the love of God to nourish and flow through us? What if parenting is less about doing or saying the right things and more about just living in love? What if living in relationship with others is less about the give and take and more about just living in the love of God, even when our heart is broken, even when we are disappointed?

On these beautiful spring days we have been having it’s easy to think about branches. We are surrounded by flowering branches and branches with fresh green leaves swaying in the wind and soaking in the sun. “I am the vine, you are the branches.” Being a branch … that doesn’t seem so hard.

Sermon from 4/19/15

 Luke 24:36b-48.Lutheran Church of our Savior
A week or so ago a bunch of people were sharing and discussing an article a guy wrote about why he believes marriages fail.  He called it “Five Reasons Marriage Doesn’t Work Anymore.”  I took the click bait and read the article.  The first reason he gave was lack of physical intimacy in marriage, second was finances.  He said it’s very expensive to live today and the financial stress takes a toll on marriage.  The next three reasons were about technology.  He believes that while we are very connected through our phones and social media, we don’t actually take the time to connect with one another face to face.  He also believes that social media creates an environment where people can be like little celebrities and just crave more and more attention, so much so that it takes priority over their loving relationship.  His final reason why he believes marriages fail is because our ability to take a picture at any moment and our habits of sharing pictures of what should be private moments take away privacy and intimacy.  1

I think he makes some valid and important points.  I also think he may be working out some of his feelings about his own divorce and sometimes blaming outside forces is easier than looking inside yourself.  But, as I read the article I found myself wondering how much of it was actually about human touch.  He talked a lot about the lack of physical intimacy, the lack of face to face interaction, using screens instead of voices, substituting mass communication over the internet for relationships.  All of these relate to human touch, actually being with people in person, flesh and bone.  And the truth is whether it’s 2015 or 1915, whether it’s a cell phone, instagram, long hours at work, indifference, depression, isolation or personal priorities, there are always forces that can keep us from touching one another- things that get between us, that break contact, that separate people.  And when we let things get between us, we stop touching each other and touch is powerful.  We need it.

There have been countless studies done on the healing power of touch.  Many articles written on how important human touch is for our physical, psychological and emotional selves.  I remember when my youngest was born the doctor said his blood sugar level was low.  I nursed him for an hour right after he was born but it was still low and the doctor was concerned.  One of the nurses told me that skin to skin contact could raise it.  So I tucked my baby into my nightgown and held him on my skin, touched my cheek against his head and my hand on his back.  Soon his levels were fine.  Touch is powerful.

And in the Gospel reading today Jesus says “touch me.”  He stands next to a group of scared apostles, huddled together behind closed doors in fear and says “touch me.”  They know that he was crucified, they know he was laid in a tomb and now he says “touch me.”

The portrait we get of the disciples in much of the Gospels is of an ordinary group of people who initially step out in faith, but also misunderstand, sometimes get it wrong, ask questions and run away in fear.  But the portrait we get of the disciples after this encounter with the risen Christ is very different.  They boldly preach, convert many, figure how to live in community, instruct others and risk their lives to go and talk to people in far away lands.  It is believed that almost all of the apostles were killed in horrible ways because they preached the Gospel.  Somehow they go from confused and timid believers to bold evangelists, breaking down barriers, teaching love and compassion, risking their lives to spread the news of Jesus, building the Church.  What happened?  How did they change so dramatically?  Was it all because the resurrected Jesus stood among them and said “touch me?”

Of course Jesus does say more than that.  He “opened their minds to understand the scriptures.”  He explains that his death and resurrection is in fulfillment with the scriptures.  And then he tells them that they are to go and proclaim “repentance and forgiveness of sins” in his name.  All of this is of course important, pivotal and transformational for the disciples, but that part where he asks them to touch him is pretty powerful.  Just before that Luke describes the disciples as “startled and terrified.”  Luke says that they thought Jesus was a ghost.  But after they are invited to touch him, it says they have joy.  Yes they still are wondering, but it says “in their joy.”  It seems that touching Christ turned their fear into joy.  Touch is a powerful thing.

Last Wednesday I attended a confirmation service at my husband’s church.  My husband is an Episcopal priest and in that tradition only Bishops perform confirmations.  So they have regional confirmations where people from area churches come to be confirmed.  I served as a mentor to a young woman getting confirmed and so I had a front row seat for it.  I watched as each person went up, knelt and the Bishop firmly placed both hands upon their heads while their priest placed a hand on their shoulder.  It was a beautiful moment and meaningful for all who were present.  It got me thinking about meaningful moments in my life when others have laid hands on me to pray.  Like my ordination, my baptism or before I left my first appointment to go and be the only pastor of a church.  The church I served at the time had the teenagers, who I had worked with closely and others in the church come forward and lay hands on me as we prayed together.  All of these were powerful and memorable experiences.  And I’m not really a touchy kind of person.  I’m not one of those people who identifies themselves as a “hugger.”  I don’t instinctively take the hand of the person next to me when I pray and I kind of dread experiences where I know the expectation is for me to get up and mingle with people I don’t know.  And yet, I will forever remember those times in my life when others have touched me in the name of Christ.  When I could hear the voice of Christ whisper “touch me.”  Touch is a powerful thing.

Perhaps when we are thinking about ways to grow the church and spread the love of Christ, the power of touch is worth remembering.  The disciples left the places they knew, they no longer hid behind closed doors, they were no longer afraid after they encountered the risen Christ.  Instead they went out and touched people.  Some went to the furthest stretches of their known world to encounter people face to face with the news of an incarnate Christ.  God in flesh.  God not as just Spirit, not as a ghost but flesh and bone, skin on, saying “touch me.”  It would be difficult to share the good news of a flesh and bone God without seeing people in flesh and bone.  Had the disciples simply sent word, or said to others “spread the word” I don’t know that the young Church would have made it.  Had they tweeted it or texted others or said “don’t bother coming to see us, just click from the comfort of your couch and watch us pray and consume body and blood on a screen”  I don’t think it would have been as powerful.

The truth is we believe in incarnation.  We believe in God with skin on.  Flesh and bone.  A God who says “touch me.”  And so we can’t get around the call to go and be with others.  We can’t get the full experience from the comfort of our couch.  We need to get up, get out and touch one another, look into each other’s eyes and say “peace be with you” just as Christ did in the Gospel today.  We need to say to others in their time of need “touch me” “I am here.”  We are given body and blood so that we will go and be body and blood.

So perhaps when we think of church growth and what it means to be a Christian today, it is about more than lovely billboards, updated websites and a list of offered programs.  Perhaps it is about something riskier than keeping our beliefs to ourselves.  Perhaps it is about something more shocking than being polite.  Maybe it is about getting out there and being with others, flesh and bone, close enough to touch.  Being the hands and feet of Christ … demonstrating an incarnate faith, saying “touch me.”

I guess I am crazy enough to believe that in this day and age relationships not only work but are desperately needed.  That human intimacy is important and that marriage can work even in a time of social media.  Maybe it is because I too am transformed by the power of touch.  By the love of a God who is so near to us, so loving toward us that God says “touch me.”  This world can feel cold and distant, germy and scary, changes happen quickly, technology is everywhere and sometimes it can be lonely.  So let us proclaim the Risen Christ by being with one another.  Let us be bold like the disciples and leave the closed doors, embrace the power of  touch and say to our brothers and sisters “touch me.”