"Easter Gets the Last Word" (sermon)

Two Rivers Pastoral Charge

Sunday April 17, 2022 – Easter Sunday

Scripture:  Luke 24:1-12

 

 

That morning is so clear in my mind – my memories of that day are so vivid.

 

When I left the house, it was still dark.  It was cold, in those hours before the dawn, and I had wrapped myself in my warmest cloak but still the cold managed to seep in.

 

As I hurried through the streets, the birds might have been singing to greet the dawn, but I don’t remember them.  The shriek of grief was too loud in my head to be able to hear anything else.

 

Only two days ago, I had seen my beloved nailed to a cross and left there to die, executed by the Empire for daring to proclaim a different way of being.  I had wanted to turn away, but I couldn’t let myself do that.  I stayed there, through the endless hours, until I saw him take his final breath.  And then I watched the men take his lifeless body off the cross, and I followed them and saw them put it in a grave.

 

And then it was Sabbath.  For a full day I couldn’t do anything except sit in my home and wait.

 

But then.  But then that morning I was finally able to do something.  I had gathered up the herbs and spices that were needed to prepare the body of my beloved for the grave – this was one last thing that I could do for him.

 

As I hurried through those quiet streets, I met up with some of the other women who had stood vigil with me two days before.  We wanted to go and tend his body and say our final goodbyes.

 

I don’t remember us saying anything to one another as we moved through the streets and towards the place of the tombs.  In our grief, there was nothing left to say.

 

When we got to the place where we had seen his body placed, we were surprised to see that the grave was open.  The stone that had been placed in front of it to seal the entrance had been rolled back.  I don’t know who could have done it – it would take the strength of more than one person to move such a large stone uphill and away from the entrance – tombs are designed to be closed rather than to be opened.

 

A shiver of worry pierced the numbness I had been feeling.  I didn’t know what could have happened.  And when we looked inside, there was no body to be seen – only a pile of cloths – the cloths that had wrapped his body – they were lying where his body had been.  The worry became fear.  What could have happened?

 

And then, just as the sun was rising above the horizon, dazzling our eyes, there were two men there.  I don’t know where they came from… I can’t even tell you what they looked like… you know how it is when you are looking into the sun.  My fear became terror.  Had they been the ones to move the body of my beloved?  What were they going to do to us?

 

I can’t tell you what they looked like, but I remember what they said.  They said, “Don’t be afraid.”  They said, “Why do you look for the living among the dead?  He is not here, but he has risen!”

 

And then, I can’t tell you how it happened, but all of the grief and the fear fell away.  Where the grief and fear had been, I was able to dare to feel hope.

 

The men continued to speak, and reminded us what my beloved had taught us.  They reminded us that he had said that on the third day he would rise from the dead.  They told us that we were going to see our beloved again.

 

The hope that had been planted in me began to turn into joy.  I had seen my beloved die, but the love of God-whose-name-is-Holy is stronger than even death, and now the grave is empty and he is risen!

 

We didn’t linger there at the grave, the other women and I.  We rushed back into the city to go and tell the other disciples.  We couldn’t wait to share the good news with them!

 

And ever since that day, whenever I am sad, whenever grief overwhelms me, whenever I am afraid or anxious about what is going to happen – I remember that morning.  I remember how grief and fear don’t last forever.  I remember that I can hold on to hope, because I know that love and joy are always waiting for me on the other side of fear and grief.  There is always a light at the end of the tunnel, even if we can’t see it yet.  Even when they don’t make any sense at all in the present moment, love, hope, and joy will always have the final word!

 

 

“Easter, Empty Tomb” by JESUS MAFA

Used with permission

"Not Alone... But Together" (sermon)

Two Rivers Pastoral Charge

April 10, 2022 – Palm Sunday

Scripture:  Luke 19:28-40

 

I have to confess that this whole pandemic has done funny things to how I view the world.  I was watching a movie this week – and to be clear, it was a movie both set and filmed before the Covid-19 pandemic – and there was a scene at a rock concert.  A stadium packed with people, shoulder to shoulder, and not a mask in sight.  Everyone singing along with the musicians, and body-surfing over the crowd.  And after two years of physical distancing and masks, it made me slightly uncomfortable to watch, even though with my head I know that all of this was normal before March 2020.

 

But I also know that even before March 2020, not everyone was comfortable in a big crowd like that.  I know for me, personally, I’m not a fan of crowds.  Being at a parade or in a crowded room or somewhere like a fair or a concert – it’s not my favourite place to be.  It must be the introvert in me.  I get easily overwhelmed by the noise and all the people and the noise.

 

And so I can only imagine what it must have been like as Jesus and his disciples entered Jerusalem that day.  There were crowds of people all around.  Luke doesn’t mention palm branches, but instead says that the crowd was throwing their cloaks on the ground in front of Jesus, riding on his colt.  They are shouting – the noise must have been overwhelming.

 

Jesus is riding a colt that had never been ridden before – this would be the opposite of a trained warhorse – I heard someone suggest that it was probably more along the lines of a rodeo bronc, trying to shake this unaccustomed rider off it’s back.  So this isn’t a slow and stately procession into the city – there’s an element of wildness and unpredictability.

 

And behind this wildness, there is also an air of tension.  Jerusalem, at that time, was a city under occupation.  The Roman Empire was in charge, and they were enforcing their rule through fear and violence.  There were constant rumblings of dissent and revolution, and everyone was likely a bit on edge even before this parade made its way into town.

 

And Jesus – he himself had caught the attention of the authorities, for proclaiming a new way of being in the world, for showing an alternate reality to the reality in front of the people.  A way of peace and love and the end of oppression.  But of course the end of oppression would require an end to the occupation, and those in charge didn’t want that to happen.

 

By the time Luke wrote down the events of this day, 50 years later, give-or-take, the people of Jerusalem had revolted against Rome, and the city, including the temple had been destroyed.

 

And so I honestly don’t know how I would have felt, if I had been a part of that first Palm Sunday parade.  I don’t think that I would have been 100% joyful and relaxed.  I suspect that I might have felt a bit on edge (or maybe a lot on edge), and yet I might also have felt compelled to be there to witness the theatre of it all, complete with a rodeo colt and people paving the way with their cloaks.

 

And my mind keeps coming back to the crowds – all those people escorting Jesus into Jerusalem that day.  One person does not a crowd make.  Here we have a multitude of people coming together, spreading their cloaks on the road and shouting praises to Jesus.  And Jesus says that even if the people were silent, the very stones would cry out.  All of creation is part of the crowd that is singing God’s praise as the parade makes its way into Jerusalem.  This crowd extends to include everything that we can see and everything that we can’t see.  When we join our voices together to sing God’s praise, the whole community of creation is singing with us.

 

And that is true for everything that we do as a church.  This Lent we’ve been talking about gardening – looking at what seeds we want to plant in our lives, looking at what we need to do to nurture these seeds along, asking if there is any pruning or weeding that we need to do in our lives so that these seeds can flourish.  And eventually it comes time to harvest.

 

And when we all harvest the seeds that we have been nurturing, just think of the impact we could make in the world.  We nurture our souls for the benefit that it brings to us – for the peace and the joy and the love we can experience – but we also nurture our souls so that we are able to then love and serve the world.

 

And if the whole church – not just us but the universal church of every time and every place – if the whole church was able to do this, can you imagine what the world would be like?  Can you imagine a world where Jesus’s message of loving one another, neighbour and enemy alike, was a reality?  Can you imagine a world where oppression is no more, and where everyone is focused on building one another up rather than pulling each other down?  Can you imagine a world where the Prince of Peace reigns in everyone’s heart, and also in every relationship, big and small?

 

This is the new way of being that we are cheering on as we accompany Jesus into Jerusalem today.  This is the vision for the world that compels us to be a part of this crowd, despite the tension and the danger.  This is the new way of being that we, the crowd, accompanied by all of creation are called to usher into being.  This is why the Holy Spirit is planting these seeds in our lives and nurturing them to the harvest – so that we can share the fruit that our souls can produce to feed the world.

 

Lent can be an inward-looking season, but in the end, we aren’t the only ones to reap the benefit of this season.  For the fruit that the Holy Spirit produces in all of us – the fruit of generosity, of love, of peace, of kindness, or joy – all of this fruit is given to us so that we can share with the world!

 

And so as we join this Palm Sunday Parade… as we begin this journey of Holy Week where the tensions will escalate until we reach the cross… let us hold fast to this vision of a world transformed – a world transformed not just for you and for me but for all of creation.  And let us trust that the Holy Spirit who has called us to join in this parade today is working in us and in the world so that this vision will become the new reality.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.

 

“Palm Sunday: Even the Stones”

by Cara B. Hochhalter

Used with permission.

"Anointed" (Sermon)

Two Rivers Pastoral Charge

April 3, 2022 – 5^th Sunday of Lent

Scripture Reading:  John 12:1-8

 

 

I want to set the scene for this week’s reading.  In the chapter before this one, Jesus was in Bethany, summoned there because his beloved friend Lazarus had died.  Jesus weeps at the death of his friend, he offers consolation to Lazarus’s sisters, Martha and Mary, and then he raises Lazarus back to life.

 

In the passage that we read today, Jesus is back in Bethany, at the home of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, and this time Mary takes a pound of expensive perfume – perfume that cost her the equivalent of a year’s salary – and she pours this perfume on Jesus feet and wipes his feet with her hair.

 

Immediately after today’s story, Jesus is going to enter Jerusalem riding a donkey, accompanied by his disciples and a parade of people waving palm branches; and from there the events of Holy Week are going to unfold.

 

And a few days later, Jesus is going to bend over the feet of his disciples, and wash them from a basin of water, and dry their feet with a towel.

 

When I looked at this story this week – a story that is so familiar to me – what struck me this time around was having these two stories of foot washing so close to one another.  In one chapter, we have Jesus’s feet being washed and dried by his beloved friend, Mary; and in the very next chapter we have Jesus washing the feet of his beloved friends.  They are both stories of deep intimacy.  Exposing our feet to another person can make us feel uncomfortable or vulnerable.  And in this section of John’s gospel, we see Jesus both receiving and giving this vulnerable sort of love.

 

Today’s story, along with intimacy and vulnerability, it also speaks to our senses.  The sense of touch, as Mary anoints and wipes Jesus’s feet.  And especially the sense of smell, as the aroma of the nard, the aroma of the perfume would have filled the room, filled the house, filled the noses of everyone who was there that day.

 

And as Jesus moves through the events of Holy Week, the scent of this perfume would have accompanied him.  As he traveled in to Jerusalem, with each step, with each sway of his robes, the scent of Mary’s perfume would have risen up to meet his nose.  As he gathered with his disciples to celebrate the Passover meal, and as he bent over to wash their feet, the scent of Mary’s perfume would have filled that room.  As he was arrested and placed on trial, I wonder if Pilate and the soldiers could smell the remnants of the perfume.  As he hung on the cross, I wonder if the wind carried a whiff of this perfume to Jesus’s nose, and when he smelled it, did Jesus remember Mary’s extravagant gift, and did he remember that he was loved?  And when Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus carried Jesus’s body to the tomb, were they able to smell this perfume that still lingered on his body?

 

The word “Christ” in Greek, or “Messiah” in Hebrew means “The Anointed One,” and with today’s reading, Jesus has been anointed. He has had perfumed oil poured over his body.

Anointing is used as a sign of hospitality – the one who is anointed is deeply welcomed in this space.

 

Anointing is used to indicate divine presence – God is with the one who is anointed.

 

Anointing is used for healing – as medicine.

 

Anointing us used to set a person apart for God – kings and queens are often anointed at their coronation; and in the same way, many traditions anoint people with perfumed oil at their baptism.

 

Anointing is also used to prepare the body of the dead for the grave.

 

And with the story that we read today, Jesus is now anointed.  He is now the Christ, the Messiah.  He has been set apart by his anointing, he has been anointed for healing, and his body has been prepared for the tomb.

 

And for we who are the church – we are the body of Christ.  And when we look at today’s story alongside the story in the next chapter where Jesus washes the feet of his disciples, we can see that there is a time for us to serve others, but there is also a time to allow ourselves to be served.  In the church, we often find it easy to serve other people, but many of us, myself included, find it difficult to let others tend to our needs.

 

And so I invite you now to think of the places in your life that need anointing.  If it is easier for you to visualize them with your eyes closed, I invite you to close your eyes now.

 

Is there any part of your physical body in need of healing?

 

Is there any part of your spiritual self in need of healing?

 

Is there a relationship in your life that is broken?

 

Is there a gift or a talent that you have that you long to be anointed, that you long to be set apart or dedicated for God?

 

Are you carrying around a loss that you haven’t been able to let go of, something that you need to anoint for the grave so that you are able to let it go?

 

Where do you need anointing today?

 

And now I invite you to visualize yourself there in the room with Jesus, Mary, Martha, Lazarus, and the other disciples.  It’s evening, so it’s dark in here, but the lamps are flickering, giving a soft glow to the room.

 

See Mary open her jar of precious, abundant perfume.

 

Can you smell the fragrance of the perfume filling the air?  It smells more beautiful that anything you have smelt before.

 

Now Mary is coming over to you.  She is pouring her beautifully-scented oil over you, pouring it over the part of you that is in need of anointing.  Can you feel the warm oil running over you?  Can you feel the beautiful aroma filling your nose?

 

Can you feel the anointing entering your very being – the healing, the consecration, the preparation, the divine presence?

 

And now Mary has uncovered her long hair, and she using it to wipe away the excess oil.  Sense her closeness to you.  Feel the vulnerability of her love.  Rest in the love and care that she is offering to you.  In this moment, know that you are safe and loved.

 

And as you prepare to leave the room, breathe in the smell of the perfume.  Know that you will carry this scent with you in the days ahead.  Know that the love and security and healing will go with you.  Know that you are loved.

 

See the door to the room opening to the outside.  Feel the fresh cool air rush in.  If there is anything that you need to leave behind in this room, know that you are able to leave it here.  Know that this room is a safe place to leave behind any burdens that you have been carrying.  Feel yourself moving towards that open door.

 

If your eyes were closed, I invite you to open them now.  Bring yourself back into this time and this place.

 

And may the healing, the peace, the love go with you, today and always.  Amen.

 

 

“Anointed” – by Lauren Wright Pittman

Used with Permission