The Resurrected Life: Shame to Forgiveness

  

The Resurrected Life: Shame to Forgiveness

John 8:1-11

It was a beautiful fall day in Jerusalem. The smell of falafel and hummus filled the air. It was the last day of the Sukkot. You know, the Festival of the Tabernacles, one of the seven major feasts in the Jewish Calendar. We had been camping all week in makeshift tents with thousands of our closest friends. People from all over had made the pilgrimage to Jerusalem – from as far north as the Sea of Galilee to as far south as the Red Sea.

For eight days, we celebrated and remembered the miraculous protection God had provided for the children of Israel when they left Egypt. And we prayed for plentiful rain to come before the winter season, and an abundant harvest for the next year. The religious leaders had been teaching extensively on the spiritual significance of water all week long. It was to remind us to cultivate a spiritual longing, a spiritual thirst for God. Each morning, they would quote the prophet Jeremiah (17:12-13), who wrote:

“Lord, You are the hope of Israel;
all who forsake You will be put to shame.
Those who turn away from You will be written in the dust
because they have forsaken the Lord,
the spring of living water.”

On the eighth, and final, day of the feast, the priest poured a pitcher of water over the altar, shouting “Hosanna, Hosanna! God save us!” We called upon God to save us, by bringing rain for the crops, to sustain our physical needs for food and water.

It had been an interesting week, though. The Rabbis seemed tense. Now, if you don’t know about Rabbis, they all know each other. They know WHO follows who, and WHO teaches what. Even though they’re from different parts of the region, they aren’t strangers. They’ve grown up together, learned together, and led together. But the scuttlebutt this week was all about a Rabbi named Jesus.

They didn’t like what He was teaching. They were threatened by Him. And yesterday, He made a startling statement by turning the prophet Jeremiah’s words into a teaching about Himself. Jesus said:

“Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me,
as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them.”

You could feel the tension in the air. The Pharisees began plotting against Jesus, wanting to entrap him.

So, there we were… eight days of worshipping God, celebrating the feast, living in tents, lots of wine flowing… some visited each other’s tents… some stumbled into the wrong tent… if you know what I mean… The Rabbis trolled the camping area, and found a woman in a man’s tent. And that man was NOT her husband. They drug her out of the tent, screaming that this woman had committed adultery! Why they didn’t drag out the man, too? Hmm.

A crowd gathered around as they announced this woman’s greatest sin. They were making a spectacle of themselves, yelling, laughing, grabbing stones to throw at her. And then, they called out to Jesus. “Hey, hey Rabbi! Teacher! Look!”

Jesus slowly sauntered over to the men yelling at the woman, and they pleaded their case:

“Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. In the Law, Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?”

You could see the disdain in Jesus’ eyes. Would He yell? Would He walk away? Would He call down Heaven’s army to smite the men? No. Jesus knelt down to the ground and wrote in the dirt. And you won’t believe what happened next!!

Well, good morning, Church! We’re in the midst of a sermon series entitled, “The Resurrected Life,” celebrating the resurrection of Jesus, His almighty power, and through our belief, inviting God to transform our minds and lives. In this Easter season, we’ve looked at how Christ’s love transforms our despair to hope. How His Resurrection Power transforms our sense of being lost to being found. And today, we’re tackling shame to forgiveness. I’m so thankful that Steven always gives me the easy ones!

The scripture lesson that Steven read earlier in the service comes from the Gospel of John, chapter 8. This story is about a woman. While it sounds like a modern day soap opera, complete with immoral activities, it’s also one of the most theologically significant passages of Scripture.

This specific story has always intrigued me. You see, I make lists:

· I keep an everyday to-do list,

· A weekly to-do list,

· A list of things I’ve learned over the last year,

· A list of my favorite books,

· My bucket list,

· But my favorite list may be: “Things I’m Going to Ask Jesus Upon Immediate Arrival into Heaven!”

At the top of that list is this question: Jesus, what in the world did You write in the dirt?

Not once, but twice, Jesus stooped and wrote on the ground with His finger. John included this detail in the passage for a reason, but left it a mystery for us to ponder. What, Jesus, what did You write?

Now, as you can imagine, I’ve been pondering this for years, and I have theories:

1) My first theory is what Jesus wrote the first time He knelt down, and more specifically what He may have written to the Pharisees;

2) The second theory is what Jesus might have written the second time He stooped down to the woman.

So, back to that cliffhanger story I left you at earlier… I want you to put yourself in the shoes of a Pharisee in Jerusalem…

You have spent your entire life teaching and upholding the Torah, the Jewish Laws found in the first five books of the Bible. This is a calling. You have memorized the entire Hebrew Scripture. You know the words of God, Moses, David, and all the prophets, inside and out. Every year, you host hundreds of thousands of people in Jerusalem to observe the festivals.

The tension at this eight-day Festival of the Tabernacles has been thick all week long. Anger is breeding between the Rabbis and Jesus. You’re at the pinnacle moment of the festival, pouring the water over the altar and declaring, “Hosanna, Hosanna! God save us!” And then, Jesus declares Himself as the Living Water! Is He calling Himself the Messiah?

As a Pharisee, you know what’s going on in those tents in the courtyard. Wine is flowing, and the people have been acting frivolously. This is the perfect opportunity to drag out one of those women who has stumbled into the wrong tent with the wrong man. After all, Leviticus chapter 20, verse 10 says, “If a man commits adultery with another man’s wife, both the adulterer and the adulteress are to be put to death.” Sure, you’re only bringing out the woman, only taking a portion of the scripture and twisting it for your own agenda, but let’s see if we can trap Jesus:

“Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. In the Law, Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?”

Jesus saw the ruse right away. Instead of responding verbally, He stooped down and wrote in the dirt. What’s that He’s writing? Is that a list of names? Is He writing my name… and Rabbi Steven’s name… and David’s name… and Will’s name… and Allison’s name… It hits you like a ton of bricks…

Jeremiah chapter 17, verses 12-13 says:

…all who forsake you will be put to shame.
Those who turn away from you will be written in the dust
because they have forsaken the Lord,
the spring of living water.”

Is Jesus writing our names in the dust because we have forsaken the Lord? Can you imagine the moment of recognition for the Pharisees? I’m on the wrong side of this prophetic encounter with the Messiah! I have forsaken God! I’m the one in shame. I am being written in the dust. I came to entrap Jesus. But Jesus entrapped me.

You’re in a spiritual stupor. You’re dumbfounded. Jesus turned the tables on us.

We tried to bring shame, and now we are shamed in the worst possible way.

How often do we try to trap others or bring shame upon others, only to find that we are the shameful ones?

Now I want you to think of that woman. We don’t know her name. We don’t know anything about her except she’s a woman… caught in the act of adultery, dragged naked by force into a public gathering place, humiliated by her sin, separated from anyone who might protect her, judged and sentenced to death without trial by self-righteous leaders. The political and social resistance robbed this woman of her dignity and honor. She was no longer a person; she was only a pawn. And then, they placed her before the King of Kings, who is pure and holy.

Jesus continued listening to the mob, shaking His head. You can feel the courage and tenacity of Rabbi Jesus as He stood up and said:

“Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.”

Again, he stooped down and wrote on the ground.

At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there. Jesus straightened up and asked her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”

“No one, sir,” she said.

“Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Go now, and leave your life of sin.”

Jesus confronted the religious power structures of His day, and now turned to this woman… What did He write in the dirt this time? Let’s think about this.

The woman in the story was guilty. The corruption of the Pharisees did not make the woman any less guilty. Jesus did not excuse her sin by making excuses for her:

· He didn’t feel sorry for her bad childhood.

· He didn’t have pity over her poor life choices.

· He didn’t say, “Well, she just didn’t know any better.”

· He doesn't call what the woman did a personal choice that is just different than what He would prefer.

· He doesn't even ask who the man was with whom she was committing adultery, so the punishment would be fair.


Jesus is the Savior who identifies her actions as sinful, and then rescues her from her sin and shame. So, maybe, just maybe, He wrote the word, forgiven. He felt her shame. He felt her embarrassment. He loved her, even though she didn’t know Him.


The only one with the power and authority to condemn declared that He would not condemn her. Instead, He extended to her holy compassion, holy forgiveness. This compassion was not just a one-time pass that enabled her to continue her previous lifestyle. It was not a get out of jail free card, so she could continue playing the sin game. The compassion of Jesus gave her a new life.


She was not the lowest ranking member of society any more. She was no longer living by the standard of critics, who make arbitrary rules about a person's worth. She was a child of God, freed from the bondage of sin and society's ranking system, to walk in the Light of Jesus Christ.


Which leads me to my final thought… The last thing Jesus said to this woman was, “Go, and sin no more.” The Hebrew term for this phrase, or act, is teshuva.

T-E-S-H-U-V-A. This is a term for repentance, or atoning for sin. Judaism recognizes that everyone sins on occasion, but that people can stop or minimize those occasions in the future by repenting for past transgressions.


In Wesleyan theology, this is a similar concept of “justifying grace” and “sanctifying grace.” Jesus has justified us by His love and His grace. He has sealed that justification by His sacrifice on the cross. He simply asks us to accept our acceptance, to say “yes”, to our reconciliation with God. Jesus asks us to claim it as our own gift from Him - laying ourselves aside, not claiming any action on our part that "puts us right" with God. But instead recognizing that forgiveness and grace is a true undeserved gift from Jesus.


And then we move into sanctifying grace - that state in which we are in the process of becoming more and more holy, like Jesus. We put on the mind of Christ, moving on to perfection. And as we seek to be so connected to the vine of Christ, we begin to imitate and act like Christ. We grow in Christ's love until we, too, can love like Christ and are thus "sanctified."

Being sanctified is a lifelong and conscious process of becoming like Christ, until we are indeed like Him. Just as in the Hebrew teshuva, we, as sanctified believers learn from our past errors, and seek to walk with Christ, onward to holiness and perfection, rather than live in sin and darkness.

So then maybe, just maybe, what Jesus wrote in the dirt was the Hebrew term, teshuva.

Perhaps Jesus wrote this to command the woman to stop the willful, sinful act that she was committing… We cannot live into teshuva if we continue to actively engage in the sin we know is wrong and harmful. Repentance is not just saying “I’m sorry”, confessing to God, and being forgiven… Of course, this is part of it. But teshuva, repentance calls for more. It calls upon us to confess to the Lord. And it calls us to confess the sin to the one you hurt the most AND restore the relationship.

What Jesus is saying to the woman here, is to go back, confess to your husband, restore the relationship, restore the covenant of marriage that you have damaged, restore the family, and restore this damage of sin that you’ve done.

And above all, change your behavior, and don’t do it anymore! Teshuva.

Friends, if we are honest with God and ourselves, we have all had times in our lives when we were Pharisees. We’ve tried to shame others. We’ve tried to cheat others. We’ve tried to elevate ourselves above others.

And if we’re honest, too, we’ve been the woman. We’ve been caught in sinful acts. We’ve been shamed and embarrassed by our behavior and actions.

While we don’t know what Jesus wrote in the dirt, we do know these truths:

· When we accept Jesus as our Lord and Savior, when we no longer forsake Him, we place our sin and shame at the foot of His Cross, where He takes it on Himself.

· And when we confess our sins with a humble heart, He is faithful and just and forgives our sins and cleanses us from all unrighteousness.

· And when we are forgiven by Christ, may we, too, go to our neighbors, our friends, and our loved ones, and restore the relationships we have harmed.

May we live our lives transformed from shame to forgiveness. And may we commit to teshuva, where we, too, are called to “Go, and sin no more.”

O Lord, You have forgiven our sins. There is no condemnation to those that are in Christ Jesus. We confess that there are times when we have been critical of others, forgetting that our own sins were painful and cruel, but by Your grace we have been forgiven. Lord, we want to live a life that is pleasing to You. We pray that because of Your new-life within us, we will display Your grace and love towards others, in the same way that You show Your grace and love towards us.

Amen and amen.

How Can I Keep From Singing: Episode 7

As might be expected, early American immigrant groups brought over their particular worship song and style from the religious movements from whence they came. Early New world efforts focused initially on Psalm Singing and then continued the rich legacy of the Watts and Wesley hymns. However, in the late 18th century, around the Revolutionary War era, an emphasis on music education and “singing schools” helped improve the quality of singing in worship.

Fostered by William Billings and others, early American hymnody offered a rich body of tunes in the shape-note tradition as well as eventually a standard American format developed by Lowell Mason in the mid-1800s. Many of these tunes in common use now first appeared in this era, such as:

NETTLETON (Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing),
NEW BRITAIN (Amazing Grace),
HOLY MANNA (Brethren, We Have Met to Worship),
FOUNDATION (How Firm a Foundation),
LAND OF REST (O Lord Who Throughout these Forty Days), and many more.

The shape-note hymns often contain a rhythmic rustic character, while Mason’s were designed to be more singer friendly in a style supported by organ playing.

Mason’s contributions included:
ANTIOCH (Joy to the World),
AZMON (O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing),
HAMBURG (When I Survey the Wondrous Cross), among others.

How Can I Keep From Singing: Episode 5

While Isaacs Watts ushered in a new era of English hymn singing, the Wesley brothers, John and Charles, greatly expanded upon its usage in 18th Century England. While remaining Anglican priests all of their lives, their “Methodist” movement none-the-less had far ranging impacts on church and social reform, leading ultimately to a separate Methodist Church (in all its iterations).

Hymn singing was critical to the movement’s success as Charles Wesley dwarfed Watt’s 600 hymns be ten-fold – at least 6,500 total if not including some 2,500 additional poems that might be suitable for singing. 

John Wesley (1703-1791) was the principal organizer, leader, preacher, whose role in hymns was primarily as editor, compiler, and promoter. 

Charles Wesley (1707-1788) also preached and organized, but became known as the greatest hymn writer of the movement, and arguably, ever.

We will look at two hymns in the first episode on Wesleyan hymnody:

Hark, How all the Welkin Rings

Charles Wesley, 1739

UMH 240, but significantly altered and reduced

1. Hark, how all the welkin rings,

"Glory to the King of kings;

peace on earth, and mercy mild,

God and sinners reconciled!"

2. Joyful, all ye nations, rise,

join the triumph of the skies;

universal nature say,

"Christ the Lord is born today!"

3. Christ, by highest Heaven adored,

Christ, the everlasting Lord:

late in time behold him come,

offspring of a Virgin's womb!

4.Veiled in flesh, the Godhead see,

hail the incarnate Deity!

pleased as man with men to appear,

Jesus, our Emmanuel here!

5. Hail, the heavenly Prince of Peace,

Hail, the Sun of Righteousness!

Light and life to all he brings,

risen with healing in his wings.

6. Mild he lays his glory by,

born that man no more may die;

born to raise the sons of earth;

born to give them second birth.

7.Come, Desire of nations, come,

fix in us thy humble home;

rise, the woman's conquering Seed,

bruise in us the serpent's head.

8.Now display thy saving power,

ruined nature now restore;

now in mystic union join

thine to ours, and ours to thine.

9.Adam's likeness, Lord, efface,

Stamp thy image in its place.

Second Adam from above,

Reinstate us in thy love.

10.Let us thee, though lost, regain,

Thee, the life, the inner man:

O, to all thyself impart,

Formed in each believing heart.

Jesus, Lover of My Soul

Charles Wesley, 1740

UMH 479

1.Jesus, lover of my soul,

Let me to Thy bosom fly,

While the nearer waters roll,

While the tempest still is high.

Hide me, O my Savior, hide,

Till the storm of life is past;

Safe into the haven guide;

O receive my soul at last.

2. Other refuge have I none,

Hangs my helpless soul on Thee;

Leave, ah! leave me not alone,

Still support and comfort me.

All my trust on Thee is stayed,

All my help from Thee I bring;

Cover my defenseless head

With the shadow of Thy wing.

(this stanza not included in our hymnal)

Wilt Thou not regard my call?

Wilt Thou not accept my prayer?

Lo! I sink, I faint, I fall—

Lo! on Thee I cast my care;

Reach me out Thy gracious hand!

While I of Thy strength receive,

Hoping against hope I stand,

Dying, and behold, I live.

3. Thou, O Christ, art all I want,

More than all in Thee I find;

Raise the fallen, cheer the faint,

Heal the sick, and lead the blind.

Just and holy is Thy name,

I am all unrighteousness;

False and full of sin I am;

Thou art full of truth and grace.

4. Plenteous grace with Thee is found,

Grace to cover all my sin;

Let the healing streams abound;

Make and keep me pure within.

Thou of life the fountain art,

Freely let me take of Thee;

Spring Thou up within my heart;

Rise to all eternity.

How Can I Keep From Singing: Episode 6

Our journey through the hymnody of Charles Wesley continues with such well known and iconic hymns as:

• And Can it Be that I Should Gain (UMH 363)
• Depth of Mercy (UMH 355)
• O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing (UMH 57 and 58)
• Love Divine, All Loves Excelling (UMH 384)

We’ll examine how scripturally-infused many of Wesley’s hymns are and clear up a misunderstanding about the missing stanza of “O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing.” Coupled with his brother’s John’s editorial work in publishing Methodist hymnals and promoting hymn singing in the church, the movement thrived and eventually led to the founding of the Methodist Church in the United States.

The Resurrected Life: Despair to Hope (Luke 24:13-35)

Happy Easter, friends! Yes, I know it’s the Sunday after Easter, but we’re still in the Easter season! It’s the time of year where we celebrate the Resurrection and invite God to transform our minds and lives. Today, we’re kicking off a new sermon series, aimed to look at just that – The Resurrected Life – and this morning we’re tackling Despair to Hope. 

Derek is in the Traditional Service today, celebrating our Confirmation Class. Erik is down south finishing up one of his last requirements for ordination. And Lowery Reiland and I were trying to figure out… when was the last time I was in Faithlink?! I think it was World Communion Sunday in 2019! So! Some of you may not know me! I am your guest host, Ashley Goad! It’s good to be back with you again!

I want to start off this morning with a story. If you know me at all, you know I love telling stories. And this is a story about a walk. It’s a walk that comes from profound disappointment, grief, and sorrow. It’s a walk that starts with the slow steps of the depressed and downcast. But!! It ends with the gleeful running of the redeemed, the joy of finding life transformed.

I think this is a story that speaks to all of us. It’s a story for a time in your life when you felt like you weren’t on a positive journey forward. It’s a story that speaks to us when both justice and peace seem far away. It speaks to us when we feel that we are retreating or walking slowly into a future that we dread or fear. It’s tells of when God comes to meet us, as we struggle to put one foot in front of another. It’s a story that’s very honest about hopelessness and loss, but also about how God comes to find us in those places. It proves how God walks beside us -- how God can transform even the deepest bereavement and loss into a journey of hope. This is a story that invites those who are deep in sorrow and despair to walk in hope again.

Get comfortable. Close your eyes, if you’d like. Let’s go for a walk on the Road to Emmaus.

It’s a long walk home from Jerusalem, but you’re glad for the exertion. The physical work of walking might ease, just slightly, the harder work that’s going on inside you today.

It is the work of grief. You lost a friend just a few days ago. Not only a friend, but your leader, your beloved teacher. And He didn’t simply die; He was executed in the most torturous, shameful way. You’ve seen a lot in your lifetime, but the memories of Jesus’ ordeal are forever branded into your memory. You close your eyes and see blood; you go to sleep but dream about someone suspended, gasping for air.

At least your friend, Cleopas, is with you — both of you followed the teacher, with equal conviction and enthusiasm. So, you bear your grief together now. As you walk and walk through the long, rainy afternoon, you encourage better memories. You remember all that teacher said and all the people Jesus healed. You can’t seem to stop talking, although several times one or both of you MUST stop talking because the tears flood down your cheeks.

All the sudden a stranger joins you while you are still several miles from home. Within moments, it’s clear that this person has no idea what has been going on in Jerusalem. With great heaviness, and some annoyance, you fill in the barest details for him. All you have to say is “crucifixion” and anyone in Roman territories knows exactly what you’re talking about.

But the stranger engages in the conversation with great energy. He must be some kind of teacher, because he launches into an explanation of how Jesus’ fate is actually a good thing and the proper fulfillment of what was predicted long ago. This is fascinating! You are all ears. Before you know it, you’ve arrived at home, and it’s getting dark.

You invite the stranger to have supper with you. And, if he’d like, he can spend the night. It’s much too dangerous to walk the road alone at night. You wouldn’t want him to risk injury or other misfortune. Also, you want to hear more of what he has to say! He graciously accepts your offer.

The first thing you do upon entering the house is prepare the evening meal. The three of you sit down to eat. Then the stranger takes the bread and blesses it. You feel a strange energy move through you and hover in the room.

Where have you heard this sort of blessing before?

The stranger hands each of you a piece of the bread. You take it, and the memories wash over you — a hillside with thousands of hungry people… a few loaves and fish being transformed in an instant to miraculous abundance. Suddenly, it is clear who this man is. You look into His face.

What do you see? What is His expression? What do you feel? What do you know in the truth of your heart?

You have barely gotten the words out — “Why, it’s the Lord!”— when the stranger vanishes.

The room still feels strangely warm. Waves of that energy, like lightning, are sparking all over the room. You stare at Cleopas, and say, “Weren’t our hearts on fire when He explained the Scriptures? Didn’t we know something even then — we just couldn’t identify it?”

You finish your meal. What a healing pleasure to eat the bread blessed by those hands! But then you look at each other and know what you must do.

You jump up with Cleopas, and race back to Jerusalem. You have to tell the other followers, who are still there in the city! You have met the Resurrected Jesus! Your hope is in the Resurrected Savior! Your lives will never be the same.

Friends, you likely recognize that story from the Scripture that Jamie Joyce read in Luke 24. But it’s a story that I can easily impose myself. I, too, can remember a particular time in my life when grief knocked me sideways. I’m sure you can, as well. I had known that loss was coming, but when it came, it was shocking in its impact. There were days I didn’t want to get out of bed; days when I felt that the weight of grief was too much to bear; days when I didn’t care about anything at all. As I read this passage, I can remember those very feelings very well. I can empathize with the two walking disciples.

The death of Jesus - His humiliating crucifixion and His burial in a cold grave - meant that something in them had died, as well. “We had hoped,” they said to the stranger on the road. “We had hoped.” They seemed to have no curiosity left to look carefully into the stranger’s face. Their grief was so deep that their eyes looked blankly out from tired faces. “We had hoped.”

With hope emptied and drained from them, I imagine they decided to get out of the city. Maybe a change of scenery would ease their pain. They likely walked the seven miles to Emmaus with the slow pace of friends depressed and traumatized. I have walked like that. Maybe you have, too. Grief drains us of energy. Once hope is gone, there seems little point in moving from one place to another. Every step seems like the most unappealing and uncomfortable effort. And yet, we cannot rest where we are either. Anything is better than staying still, but every step is painful, too.

There’s no peace in grief. There’s no justice either; every life deserves to flourish. And these two pilgrims were bereaved not only of a friend, but also of a cause. Their lives had been shaped by a purpose, by good news for the poor, and hope for a new kind of world. All of that, all of that hope for a real change, had suddenly vanished.

Now, the only change they could imagine was a different skyline, a quieter place, a walk to pass a few desolate hours.

But! While this story speaks powerfully and movingly to grief and loss, it also offers hope for the future to those who think that hope belongs only in the past. At least the two friends had the courage to invite the stranger to dine with them. Even in the depths of their loss and trauma, they hadn’t forgotten the courtesies of hospitality and the central practices of faith. They welcomed the stranger. They kept the rituals going. They did what followers of Jesus have always done. And then as they listened to the stranger open the scriptures, as the bread was blessed and broken, hope returned to them!

Not only did the Resurrected Lord turn their despair to hope, but He also transformed their pace! What was a slow, 20-minute per mile pace is now a sprint for 7 miles! It’s not the Walk to Emmaus; it’s the Race to Jerusalem! Life is re-kindled. Jesus is not dead; He is risen! And this transformation happens because two worn out pilgrims are reminded to return to the source of faith and to the practices they had learned to cherish – 1) reading the scriptures, and 2) breaking bread with the stranger. In those very ordinary things, grief was overcome, and life was renewed. Just like John Wesley, their hearts were strangely warmed by the Spirit of God bursting into their lives.

The accompaniment of Jesus in our own lives can hold us through times of loss and grief. As I travel all over the world, I have learned that there is nothing so restoring to hope, nothing so energizing, as returning to the scriptures and the sacraments. With friends and neighbors, both near and far, God calls us to come and restore by remembering the acts of faith. The presence of God encourages us and quickens our steps. Didn’t you feel that on Easter Sunday? After a year of despair, a year of COVID, days and days of not physically being together, we celebrated our Resurrected Lord with 900 of our closest friends at this church! Hope. We find our hope in the King of Glory!

Lesslie Newbigin, a great missionary, was once asked whether he was a pessimist or an optimist. He simply replied that he believed in the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Friends, many of us have experienced fear and death. Even this week, many of us have experienced the loss of loved ones. But fear and death are overcome, in Christ, by resurrection.

· The slow pace of grief can be turned into the dance of hope again.

· The painful walk of the bereaved can become a pilgrimage toward peace.

· The wounded feet of the traumatized will find justice again.

· From despair, we find hope in our risen Lord and Savior.

Amen and amen.


COMMUNION – Returning to the Sacraments & the Scriptures

Invitation

At Easter time, the space between heaven and earth grows thin.
Time and eternity are one.
Age old promises prove true.
Long held hopes become real,
and we can finally believe
that God’s will might be done on earth as it is in heaven.

As so we gather
to celebrate and remember
in the company of the One
who names us and claims us, risen and present -
not controlled by history
not confined by texts
not contained by death.

One who has walked alongside us,
who has heard our questions and cries,
who has offered gentle wisdom.
One who invites strangers to be neighbors
and enemies to be friends around this table.

Christ invites us to this table:
for a deeper faith
for a better life
for a fairer world.

Know that you are most welcome here.


Narrative of Institution
On this day, we recall that Jesus broke bread
in that upper room with twelve disciples
on the night before He died.
Sitting at a meal table -
plates and cups,
conversations and jokes
friendship and betrayal -
Christ saying, take and eat.
This is my body broken for you take and drink.
This is a new covenant in my blood.

And then, in Emmaus, He broke bread a second time --
not in a city temple but in a country pub,
not with knowing friends
but with those who thought him a stranger --
just as He Had done before.

As a host, He offered welcome;
as a master, He served,
making strangers into friends,
making a meal into a holy moment.

So now we do as Jesus did.
We drink and eat,
simple food and drink,
yet in these,

Jesus Himself promises to be present.
Christ Himself offers to make us whole.


Thanksgiving
And so we gather in thanks
to the One who always welcomes us home to the table -
from the dawn of Creation
to the Easter sunrise.

Let us be still and know that Christ is present
to save and to serve
to guide and to call
to comfort and to heal.

For Your life which binds our living,
for Your love which shapes our giving,
for Your peace which mends our breaking,
for Your truth which guides our knowing…
We give You thanks.


The Breaking of the Bread
With this bread that we break and eat, Christ is present with us.
With this juice that we pour and drink, Christ is present with us.

Easter Sunday Pastoral Prayer: April 4, 2021

O Good and Gracious God,
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace,
Alpha and Omega, Beginning and End:
It doesn’t seem so long ago
that we gathered together
to celebrate the birth of Christ
and reflect on the mysteries of the incarnation —
how He became the fullness of humanity,
with all of our joys
and all of our sorrows,
yet at the same time
perfectly reflected Your image.
Through the muck and the mire,
He proclaimed the Good News of Your love,
even in the most hopeless of places.

In this past week, we have remembered
the worst of humanity:
the rejection of Your gift of hope,
putting Christ to death on the cross,
and the attempt to deter the emergence of Your kingdom.
But through the resurrected Savior,
the rush of Your Spirit erupted into the world.
When everything was dark,
Your love broke through.
Your love was too strong, too wide, too deep for death to hold.
You have rolled away the stone, O God,
and Your light has pierced the darkness of the tomb.
The sparks cast by Your love
dance and spread and burst forth with resurrection light.
Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed!

On this day,
we know that many of us still experience
darkness in our lives;
these struggles don’t simply go away
in the joy of this day.
But we are renewed in faith
and strengthened in hope.

Even more, we have been reminded
that the promise of Easter
is not just an idea
that we sing, pray, and preach.
Christ is alive and lives among us today.
Your real presence
is more than something we hope for—
You are with us, here and now.
We know You in the love we share for each other,
the love that binds us all together as one.

Bless all whose lives are closely linked with ours,
and grant that we may serve Christ in them,
and love one another as He loves us.
Comfort and heal all those who suffer in body, mind, or spirit,
especially those in our faith family who are in the hospital:

And those who are continuing their health recoveries at home:


May we also walk the journey of grief with those who have lost loved ones:

We hold each of these faithful servants, those we have named,
and those unnamed, in the Light of Christ.
Grant them courage and hope in their troubles,
and anoint them the joy of Your salvation.

O Lord, encourage our community,
as we form and re-form ourselves as Your Body.
Just as the revelations of Easter
energized the first disciples,
may we be energized to dream new visions
and be open to new risks
and to the unknown.

On this day, O God,
Christ’s resurrection gives us hope that nothing —
no tragedy, no mistake, no sin, no evil —
is beyond the redemptive power of Your love.
This is the truth of Your kingdom,
a kingdom we long for,
and a kingdom for which we now pray
using the words the living Christ has taught us:

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name. 
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
For thine is the Kingdom and the power and the glory forever.

Good Friday Pastoral Prayer

God of mystery and wonder,

because we know the ending of the story,
it’s tempting for us
to ignore the darkness of this day.
It’s tempting for us
to go about our business as usual.
It’s tempting for us
to move too quickly
to the dawn of light on Easter morning.

But we draw upon Your grace
to give us courage and strength
to live for a while in the darkness,
to set aside comfort and pleasure,
to feel the darkness
in which so many of Your children dwell,
the darkness into which Your Son Jesus entered.


Lord Jesus, we remember today that it was
one of Your own familiar friends who betrayed You,
and we know that there is nothing that so breaks the heart
as the disloyalty of one whom we call friend.

Save us:
From the cowardice that would disown You
when it is too hard to be true to You;

Guard us:
From the disloyalty that betrays You in the hour
when You need someone to stand by You;

Prevent us:
From the fickleness that blows hot and cold in its devotion;

Avert us:
From the fair-weather friendship that,
when things are difficult or dangerous,
makes us ashamed to show whose we are and whom we serve.


As we reflect on the frailty of Christ,
remind us of the frailty of all life.
As we cringe at the suffering of Christ,
make us mindful of suffering throughout the world.
As we witness the death of Christ,
bring us back full circle to the beginning of Lent,
to the wisdom of Ash Wednesday:
the awareness of our mortality
and the mortality of those we love.

Gracious God,
deep in the human heart
is an unquenchable trust
that life does not end with death.
Like a seed,
which is buried
in order to bring forth life,
Christ goes to the tomb
to usher in new life.

We trust that we, too, will be raised to new life,
in this world, here and now,
and in the mystery of what lies beyond physical death.
We trust that the all the world will be born anew,
that Your kingdom is coming,
as a new heaven
and a new earth.

On this day of darkness,
it is for this kingdom that we boldly pray,
with the words that Jesus so graciously taught us to pray:

Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name.

Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread. 

And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the Kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen.

Maundy Thursday: A Reflection from Judas

Maundy Thursday Reflection

READING 1: John 6:60-71 

Many of his disciples said, “This is very hard to understand. How can anyone accept it?”

Jesus was aware that his disciples were complaining, so he said to them, “Does this offend you? Then what will you think if you see the Son of Man ascend to heaven again? The Spirit alone gives eternal life. Human effort accomplishes nothing. And the very words I have spoken to you are spirit and life. But some of you do not believe me.” 

(For Jesus knew from the beginning which ones didn’t believe, and he knew who would betray him.) 

Then he said, “That is why I said that people can’t come to me unless the Father gives them to me.”

At this point many of his disciples turned away and deserted him. 

Then Jesus turned to the Twelve and asked, “Are you also going to leave?”

Simon Peter replied, “Lord, to whom would we go? You have the words that give eternal life. We believe, and we know you are the Holy One of God.”

Then Jesus said, “I chose the twelve of you, but one is a devil. ”

He was speaking of Judas, son of Simon Iscariot, one of the Twelve, who would later betray him.

 

Judas’ Response 1:

I am Judas. I know most of you have heard the stories you are about to hear before, but I want you to hear my side of the story. My name is always listed last when you hear about the twelve of us, and I will forever be known for what I did. I am the “betrayer”. I am notorious---a cautionary tale for fallen faith. But I am more than that. You know our world loves villains. I am sure my story makes you feel a bit better about yourself and the mistakes you’ve made. I’m like the ancient version of a car wreck that you can’t look away from.  And yet, you all know so little about me. I challenge you: go look for books written about me. There are hundreds about Peter or even about Mary Magdalene, but only an obscure small handful about me. It’s like people are afraid to talk about me. I am a walking curse. 

 

But I was a real disciple. It was real​. I just never fit in with the others. Did you know I was the only one in the group who was not from the north, from Galilee? 

 

It was lonely---leaving everything to follow him, and not feeling a connection with His other followers. But I did believe in Him! God, I believed in Him! I just couldn’t understand. He was not what I thought. I thought, here is the king who will finally vindicate us! See I was what we called a Zealot. It’s the closest thing we Jewish people had at that time to an army. We lived under the heel of the Roman empire, and they treated us like dirt on their boots. We were nothing to them, but we, the Zealots, remembered that we are the chosen people---a great nation! I know people who plotted riots, insurrections, even assassinations of the Emperor. But when I met Jesus I knew: here is the answer to our prayers. He will make our nation whole again. 

 

I loved watching the crowds gather around Him. I loved seeing His popularity build and build. The time was coming, I just knew it. But then I did not understand why he wasted His time with some of the people---the sick, the weak. Sure, I felt sorry for them too, but there were bigger objectives in mind. They weren’t going to help Him gain power…so what was the point? 

 

He would teach about leaders being servants, and humbling those who exalted themselves, and taking up our crosses, and I’ll be honest... I did not understand ANY of it at the time. But I didn’t ask questions. Maybe I didn’t want the real answers. And then the few times, I spoke up and got rebuked, it felt lousy. I was just trying to keep myself out of the way. Jesus had a plan and I was following His lead.

 

But I got impatient. Jesus’ plan was not looking at all like my plan. What was He doing???

And then I KNOW you’ve heard about the weirdest and most humiliating thing of all. He rode into the crowds of Passover with His feet dragging in the mud on a nursing donkey! While the Emperor rode in on the other side of the city with his stallion and his soldiers and his parade! 

 

I remember thinking with so much anger and disappointment: ​

 

Do you think this is a joke, Jesus?? We were going to be in power someday and you’re just throwing it away, acting like you don’t care! You are my teacher, and I love you, but your life is only one life and I have the lives of all my people to be concerned about. It is time for you to take on Rome. 

 

But if you’re not willing, maybe God will use me instead. It’s time for a new order, whatever the cost may be..... 

 

Ah, Holy Jesus
Stanza 1

Ah, holy Jesus, how hast thou offended, 

that we to judge thee have in hate pretended? 

By foes derided, by thine own rejected, 

O most afflicted!

READING 2:​ ​Matthew 26:14-16, 20-25

 

Then Judas Iscariot, one of the twelve disciples, went to the leading priests and asked, 

“How much will you pay me to betray Jesus to you?” 

 

And they gave him thirty pieces of silver. 

From that time on, Judas began looking for an opportunity to betray Jesus.

When it was evening, Jesus sat down at the table with the Twelve. 

While they were eating, he said, “I tell you the truth, one of you will betray me.”

Greatly distressed, each one asked in turn, “Am I the one, Lord?”

He replied, “One of you who has just eaten from this bowl with me will betray me. For the Son of Man must die, as the Scriptures declared long ago. But how terrible it will be for the one who betrays him. It would be far better for that man if he had never been born!”

Judas, the one who would betray him, also asked, “Rabbi, am I the one?”

And Jesus told him, “You have said it.”

 

Judas’ Response 2:

You know what? It was never about the money. I mean thirty pieces of silver is like a month’s wages, but it wasn’t about the money. Not really. There was always enough for us to get by on, and Jesus would tell us not to worry about tomorrow. But wandering around basically homeless with this crew, it was hard not to worry. I’m a practical person. I needed to know the plan.

 

And it wasn’t as if I was the only one having doubts about Jesus. All the MOST religious people in our region were offended by Him. He was always arguing with them, and He even pronounced “woe” on them for trying to make others live into the perfection of the law. Sometimes He was so controversial, it felt like He was ​trying to get Himself killed! You don’t mess with the law. There are rules for a reason. I’m not perfect, but I knew when to follow those rules.

 

But who am I kidding? As soon as I struck a deal with the priests to deliver Him up, I felt uneasy. It was hard going back among Jesus and the other disciples and trying to be normal. I hoped I was doing the right thing. Jesus needed my help. Maybe He was scared to make the first move against the Romans, but if I just got a little confrontation going, then He’d show what He was made of. He would step in with all the might of God and put things in order, wouldn’t he?

 

What’s crazy is....Jesus knew! You heard Him! He knew what I had done, and what I was about to do. Yet still He included me in this last meal of bread and wine. You know, He even sat me to His right; in the seat of honor! Was He trying to make this as hard as possible? Or was He trying to get me to take it back? The other disciples were clueless, of course. They all wondered if they’d be the one to betray Him.

 

But I hope you’re starting to see, this whole thing was bigger than me... maybe this-----this “thing” is the whole reason I was called to follow Him..... 

 

Ah, Holy Jesus
Stanza 2

Who was the guilty? Who brought this upon thee? 

Alas, my treason, Jesus, hath undone thee! 

'Twas I, Lord Jesus, I it was denied thee; 

I crucified thee.

READING 3: Mark 14:41-50

 

When he returned to them the third time, he said, “Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? Enough! The hour has come. The Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Up, let’s be going. Look, my betrayer is here!”

And immediately, even as Jesus said this, Judas, one of the twelve disciples, arrived with a crowd of men armed with swords and clubs. They had been sent by the leading priests, the teachers of religious law, and the elders. 

The traitor, Judas, had given them a prearranged signal: “You will know which one to arrest when I greet him with a kiss. Then you can take him away under guard.” As soon as they arrived, Judas walked up to Jesus. “Rabbi!” he exclaimed, and gave him the kiss.

Then the others grabbed Jesus and arrested him. But one of the men with Jesus pulled out his sword and struck the high priest’s slave, slashing off his ear.

Jesus asked them, “Am I some dangerous revolutionary, that you come with swords and clubs to arrest me? Why didn’t you arrest me in the Temple? I was there among you teaching every day. But these things are happening to fulfill what the Scriptures say about me.”

Then all his disciples deserted him and ran away.

 

Judas’ Response 3: 


 

Here was the moment! I had to force His hand, I just had to. Even Caiaphas, one of the most well-respected Chief Priests said “you do not realize it is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish”. But He wasn’t going to die. It would all be worth it when He showed His power. After everything He did---healing thousands, walking on water, even raising the dead

---I had no doubt that He would find a way to get out of this alive. Angels would come and protect Him if they had to.

 

I just did what had to be done. Someone had to do it. 


But it hurt like hell to turn Him over with a kiss. A kiss! And still, He called me “friend”.

 


((Sigh and pause))

 

I knew something was wrong when I kissed Him. His skin was hot; all clammy and sweaty. He looked like He had not slept in days. He was scared!! I had never seen Him like this. My master, my teacher---scared?? 

 

But He was going to be okay. He had to be okay. He would resist. God would help Him. Everything would be okay. 

 

 

Ah, Holy Jesus
Stanza 3

Lo, the Good Shepherd for the sheep is offered; 

the slave hath sinned, and the Son hath suffered. 

For our atonement, while we nothing heeded, 

God interceded.

READING 4: John 19:1-16

​Then Pilate had Jesus flogged with a lead-tipped whip. The soldiers wove a crown of thorns and put it on his head, and they put a purple robe on him. “Hail! King of the Jews!” they mocked, as they slapped him across the face.

Pilate went outside again and said to the people, “I am going to bring him out to you now, but understand clearly that I find him not guilty.” Then Jesus came out wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe. And Pilate said, “Look, here is the man!”

When they saw him, the leading priests and Temple guards began shouting, “Crucify him! Crucify him!”

“Take him yourselves and crucify him,” Pilate said. “I find him not guilty.”

The Jewish leaders replied, “By our law he ought to die because he called himself the Son of God.”

When Pilate heard this, he was more frightened than ever. He took Jesus back into the headquarters again and asked him, “Where are you from?” But Jesus gave no answer. “Why don’t you talk to me?” Pilate demanded. “Don’t you realize that I have the power to release you or crucify you?”

Then Jesus said, “You would have no power over me at all unless it were given to you from above. So the one who handed me over to you has the greater sin.”

Then Pilate tried to release him, but the Jewish leaders shouted, “If you release this man, you are no ‘friend of Caesar.’ Anyone who declares himself a king is a rebel against Caesar.”

When they said this, Pilate brought Jesus out to them again. Then Pilate sat down on the judgment seat on the platform that is called the Stone Pavement (in Hebrew, Gabbatha). It was now about noon on the day of preparation for the Passover. And Pilate said to the people, “Look, here is your king!”

“Away with him,” they yelled. “Away with him! Crucify him!”

“What? Crucify your king?” Pilate asked.

“We have no king but Caesar,” the leading priests shouted back.

Then Pilate turned Jesus over to them to be crucified.

So they took Jesus away.

 

Judas’ Response 4:

 

I couldn’t have imagined it would go this far. By this time, I was beginning to get the sinking feeling that none of this would go as I planned, as I had hoped. That woman who poured expensive oil on Him---I thought she was just making a show of wastefulness to show her piety, but now I see. 
She was anointing Him for death. I was beginning to see what was happening here. 

 

He would never be treated like a King. He was about to be executed like a common criminal. This man I followed for the best years of my life. What would people think?

Your humiliation humiliates me!!!! I didn’t understand you Jesus.
You were supposed to be the one to save us.
And now it’s all falling apart.
And worst of all it’s my fault.

Maybe I can be forgiven. You always told such stories of forgiveness: the coin, the sheep, the Prodigal Son. You didn’t want any of us lost. To lose our way. Not even me. God, I must be the worst of the worst.
Maybe I can still make things right. 

I’ll take it back. I’ll prove that you were innocent. You don’t deserve this.
You said this would happen, but it’s just not right!

Where is God to come and save you? Why isn’t he coming to save you? This can’t be right. It can’t all be for nothing. I just…..Jesus, you can’t die this way! It’s not supposed to happen like this.
I have to make it right...
If I don’t, who will? 

 

Ah, Holy Jesus
Stanza 4

For me, kind Jesus, was thy incarnation, 

thy mortal sorrow, and thy life's oblation; 

thy death of anguish and thy bitter passion, 

for my salvation.

READING 5: Matthew 27:3-10

​ When Judas, who had betrayed him, realized that Jesus had been condemned to die, he was filled with remorse. So he took the thirty pieces of silver back to the leading priests and the elders. “I have sinned,” he declared, “for I have betrayed an innocent man.”

“What do we care?” they retorted. “That’s your problem.”

Then Judas threw the silver coins down in the Temple and went out and hanged himself.

The leading priests picked up the coins. “It wouldn’t be right to put this money in the Temple treasury,” they said, “since it was payment for murder.” After some discussion they finally decided to buy the potter’s field, and they made it into a cemetery for foreigners. That is why the field is still called the Field of Blood. This fulfilled the prophecy of Jeremiah that says,

“They took the thirty pieces of silver —the price at which he was valued by the people of Israel,
and purchased the potter’s field, as the Lord directed.”

 

 

READING 6: John 19:23-30 

​When the soldiers had crucified Jesus, they divided his clothes among the four of them. They also took his robe, but it was seamless, woven in one piece from top to bottom. So they said, “Rather than tearing it apart, let’s throw dice for it.” This fulfilled the Scripture that says, “They divided my garments among themselves and threw dice for my clothing.” So that is what they did.

Standing near the cross were Jesus’ mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary (the wife of Clopas), and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother standing there beside the disciple he loved, he said to her, “Dear woman, here is your son.” And he said to this disciple, “Here is your mother.” And from then on this disciple took her into his home.

Jesus knew that his mission was now finished, and to fulfill Scripture he said, “I am thirsty.” A jar of sour wine was sitting there, so they soaked a sponge in it, put it on a hyssop branch, and held it up to his lips. When Jesus had tasted it, he said, “It is finished!” Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

 

 

FINAL JUDAS REFLECTION: 

I couldn’t wait, I missed it. I went forward on my own initiative trying to force Jesus into moving against our enemy. I didn’t understand that the Son of Man had come to die. I didn’t listen to Jesus’ announcement of his death. I painted a picture in my mind of who Jesus was and when He failed to meet that expectation I lost hope and began plotting how to force Jesus to do what I wanted him to.

That’s gotta make us stop and think about who Jesus truly is.  Who we really are. When our hope is in a Savior that resembles a world power, we lose hope when the violence isn’t done by our hero, but rather to him. Jesus isn’t in the business of meeting our expectations. He came to suffer, to die, and to bring resurrection.

I wanted what all the other disciples wanted: a place of power in the Kingdom, my own vision of restoration come to fruition. For this I was willing to cheat and steal and betray. I wonder if any of this is applicable to you dear listener? Has God ever been too slow and so you took things into your owns hands?  Has the vision he painted been so different than yours that you decided to stop following and start leading?

We forget the last shall be first and the first shall be last. We forget the foot-washing master, who said, “Follow me.”

So we must choose between our 30 pieces of silver, our own dreams and desires, or humbly taking up our cross to be like Jesus. Can we come and die seeking first His kingdom and not our own?  We must choose: to embrace Jesus as he is and learn to be shaped like Him or continue being proud and stubbornly refuse to see God as He truly is.

You can worship the Christ, who came to lay down his life as a ransom for many. You are called to love as he did, in serving others, washing feet, dying to self, and standing with those who can’t stand. The invitation is open for you tonight. I missed it, I betrayed all of it.  Will you?

 

Ah, Holy Jesus
Stanza 5

Therefore, kind Jesus, since I cannot pay thee, 

I do adore thee, and will ever pray thee, 

think on thy pity and thy love unswerving, 

not my deserving.