"Beyond Life to Fullness of Life" (sermon)

Two Rivers Pastoral Charge

Sunday April 30, 2023 – 4^th Sunday of Easter

Scripture:  John 10:1-10

 

 

Chapter 10 of the gospel of John includes one of my very favourite statements of Jesus, and this week I looked it up in different translations to see how different translations of the bible word it:

 

“I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” (NRSV)

 

“I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.”  (KJV)

 

“I came so they can have real and eternal life, more and better life than they ever dreamed of.” (Message)

 

“I have come in order that you might have life – life in all its fullness.” (Good News)

 

“I came so that they could have life – indeed, so that they could live life to the fullest.”  (CEB)

 

This fullness, this abundance of life is what Jesus is all about.  He’s not just about the simple biological life – a heart beating, breath moving in and out of the lungs.  Instead, Jesus is about every single person… maybe even all of creation… being able to fully live into who and what God created us to be.

 

It's interesting to look at where this teaching of Jesus comes in the overall bible story.  This passage comes right after the story of Jesus giving sight to a man who was born blind – one of the stories we read just a couple of weeks ago in the season of Lent.

 

If you remember that story, there was a man born without sight.  Jesus saw him; Jesus spit on the ground and mixed his spit with the dust; Jesus smeared the mud he made on the man’s eyes; Jesus told the man to go to the pool of Siloam and wash his eyes there.  And when the man came back to Jesus after washing, he could see for the first time in his life.

 

This is the story as told by someone watching the events unfold.  But I wonder what this experience was like for the man who was born blind.  We are told that he was a beggar and so I picture him sitting alongside the road, hopeful that someone passing by would be generous enough to drop a couple of coins in his basket.  Maybe he was hungry, or maybe yesterday’s generosity meant that he was able to eat today.  And all of a sudden, he hears some voices that he has never heard before.  And these unfamiliar voices are talking about him.  And then he feels mud being smeared on his eyes – I like to think that Jesus told him what he was doing, and asked permission first – but mud is smeared on his eyes, and this unseen voice is telling him to go to a local pool to wash the mud off.

 

These unfamiliar voices belong to strangers, and yet there must have been something in Jesus’s voice that told this unnamed man that the voice came from someone who was trustworthy.  What did he hear in Jesus’s voice that made him do what Jesus told him?

 

He didn’t know Jesus’s voice, and yet he knew Jesus’s voice.

 

And at the end of this story, just before Jesus’s teaching about sheep hearing the voice of the one who tends them, this man has moved into a deeper, fuller, more abundant way of living.  I picture him standing straighter and moving through the world with increased confidence now that he can see where to place his feet.  Maybe now someone will hire him so that he no longer has to sit beside the road with his beggar’s bowl.  Maybe he now lives his life with generosity and compassion towards the people he used to beg alongside.

 

This man has heard Jesus’s voice, he knew Jesus’s voice even though he had never met him before, knew that he could trust Jesus’s voice, and now he has passed through Jesus and into the sheepfold.

 

Today’s reading from John must drive English teachers crazy with its mixed metaphors.  Is Jesus the shepherd who protects the sheep?  Or is he the gate in and out of the sheep fold?

 

I would answer both of these questions with a yes.  Yes and yes.  The beautiful thing about using metaphors – images that are both like and not-like – is that when we use multiple metaphors to describe God we can draw a more complete picture of God.  We are limited by our human language when we try to talk about God, but the poetry of metaphors maybe lets us get a bit closer.  Jesus is the one who guards the sheep AND Jesus is the gate.  Jesus is the one whose voice, whose call is trustworthy AND Jesus is the entry into abundance or fullness of life.

 

Which brings me to the biggest question that I’ve had to struggle with this week, related to this reading.  If Jesus is both the shepherd and the gate, who is the thief or bandit in this metaphor?  If Jesus’s purpose is to bring fullness or abundance of life – life that goes beyond simply existing – who or what is stealing or denying this abundant life?  What are some of the ways that the world has denied this abundance of life?  Or even closer to home, what are some of the ways that the church has denied the abundance of life?

 

I think of all of the situations where there is biological life without the fullness of life.  Our LGBTQ+ siblings who are living in places where their existence is illegal, and if they lived as God created them to be, they risk being punished even up to the point of death.  People who are forced to give birth but who are denied accessible health care or any sort of social support system or network.  People who are trapped in generational systems of poverty.  People struggling with addictions who are imprisoned rather than supported with treatment programs.

 

There are so many places in the world where there is life but not the fullness or abundance of life.

 

And I think that this story should be a very powerful call to the church.  Our mission needs to go beyond sustaining life and on to promoting the fullness of life.  We contribute to food banks which is important because they sustain life, but what can we do to make sure that people don’t need food banks in the first place.  We support the benevolent fund which again helps to sustain life by doing things like paying power bills and giving out grocery gift cards, but what can we do to promote the fullness of life so that people don’t need to ask for help in the first place?

 

(If you are looking for some ideas to get you going, I encourage you to look on the United Church of Canada’s website for information about the Guaranteed Livable Income campaign.  Or look for the ways that the church is pushing back against climate change.  Or listen to the Minute for Mission that we share each week for ways that the wider church is working towards not just life but abundant life.)

 

For Jesus said, “I came that they may have life, and have it in abundance.”  And may this vision come soon for all of God’s creation.  Amen.

 

 

 

The church advocating for fullness of life for all!

 

300 paper bags, each containing a tart and closed with a sticker

that has a rainbow flag and the words “God Loves You!”

Given away in front of Westfield United Church on Pie Day (March 14).

"Hallelujahs, Tinged with Tears" (Easter Sermon)

Two Rivers Pastoral Charge

April 9, 2023 (Easter Sunday)

Scripture Reading:  Matthew 28:1-10

 

 

I need to say, right from the beginning, that with one part of my heart it doesn’t quite feel right to be celebrating Easter with so much grief floating around our churches these days.  It doesn’t feel quite right to be singing our Hallelujahs with joy and excitement while some of our friends, some of our neighbours, some of our siblings in Christ are still living through their Good Fridays of grief and fear and dread.  Some of our friends, some of our neighbours, some of our siblings in Christ are still living through Holy Saturday, that day of emptiness, of waiting, of in-between-ness.  How can we celebrate Easter with so much Good Friday and Holy Saturday still around us?

 

And yet when I read the stories of the first Easter, I notice that they also aren’t full of joy that is uncomplicated by grief or fear.  I think that Easter is maybe a bit more complicated than we sometimes make it out to be.

 

Think of those women going to the tomb at sunrise – Matthew names them for us, Mary Magdalene and another Mary.  They are deep in grief at the loss of their friend.  And when they get to the tomb, an earthquake shakes the ground under their feet, and an angel descends in front of them.  And here, I invite to you picture something a bit more dramatic than the usual artistic depictions of angels.  I invite you to picture wings and eyes and flames and lightning flashing around them, clothing so dazzling bright that you can’t look at the angel.  The big burly Roman guards that have been posted to guard the grave are terrified, shaking in their boots and paralyzed with fear.

 

The first thing that the angel says to the women is, “Don’t be afraid.”  They need to let go of their immediate terror to be able to hear the good news that Jesus isn’t there in the tomb, but rather has been raised from the dead.

 

As Mary and Mary are running back into the city to tell the other disciples, they run into Jesus himself.  And just like the angel, Jesus greets them with, “Don’t be afraid.”

 

Between earthquakes and angels and a beloved friend who was dead but who is now standing before you… the first Easter wasn’t a simple joyful celebration of new life.  It is often said that the only two things you can count on are death and taxes, and now you can’t even trust death any more!  Resurrection was something new, and anything new feels unsafe, even when it is ultimately good.

 

And so I’m starting to think of Easter as something new… as something that is going to be ultimately good even if we can’t see the goodness at the beginning.

 

This week I was thinking of a tree that I saw back a couple of years ago.  I was visiting England in November 2019, just before Covid shut the world down, staying with a friend in a small village in the county of Devon.  The church in her village dates back to the 1300s, but the age of the building isn’t what is special about it.  What this church is famous for is a yew tree growing out of the roof.

 

Nobody is quite sure how old the tree is, but the best guess is that it is at least 250 years old.  Nobody planted it there – a seed likely fell from the beak of a bird flying overhead.  Maybe the seed found a bit of soil up there on top of the tower, maybe there was a patch of moss that it landed in.  The seed germinated, sending out fragile roots and a tender stem.  I wonder how long the tree was there before the first person noticed it?  How long was that tree there, growing and strengthening, without anyone being aware of its existance?  I think of those early years of the tree, drawing water up through its roots from the rain that fell.  Soaking up the sunlight in its first leaves.  New life was growing on that roof, likely for years if not decades before anyone became aware of it.  New life is beginning all around us, even when we can’t see it yet.

 

For Mary and Mary and the rest of the disciples, despite their terror and grief that Easter morning, resurrection has begun. Their beloved friend is back and a new sort of life is now here for all of us.

 

And this is why I think that we do need to celebrate Easter, even when we are in the midst of Good Friday or Holy Saturday times in our life.  This is why I think that we need to celebrate things like baptisms like we had at Summerville this morning, and a new life beginning.  The seeds of new life have already been planted, even when we can’t see them yet.  The seeds of new life have already been planted, and because we trust in that new life, we celebrate.  Even when our Hallelujahs are tinged with tears, even when our Hallelujahs are tentative, we sing them anyways.  For the tomb is empty.  New life is here.  Christ is risen.  Christ is risen indeed.  Hallelujah!

 

 

The Yew Tree on top of All Saints Church

Culmstock, Devon

"A Bit of Street Theatre" (sermon)

Two Rivers Pastoral Charge

Sunday April 2, 2023 (Palm Sunday)

Scripture:  John 12:12-19

 

 

I want to invite you to imagine what it might have been like to have been there, to have been part of that procession that entered Jerusalem.  If it is easier for you to imagine with your eyes closed, then I invite you to close your eyes.

 

At this time of year in Jerusalem, we are in the middle of the short spring season.  The heavy rains of winter have passed, though there might still be some showers, but we haven’t yet come to the hot, dry, dusty days of summer.  The wildflowers have started to bloom, and there are poppies blowing wildly in the wind wherever you turn; and the almond trees are blooming, filling the air with their sweetness.

 

We are just days away from the Passover, the major festival in the Jewish calendar.  People have traveled from all over the known world to celebrate the Passover – offering sacrifices in the temple, and sharing in the communal Passover meal as they re-tell the story of how God had helped them to escape from slavery in Egypt.

 

The streets are crowded – there are normally 40,000 people living in the city, but this week there are 200,000 extra people here.  The officials are starting to get nervous with all of these people here.  They have heard rumblings of revolt – rumours that there are people who want to overthrow the Roman rulers here in Israel.  Tensions are starting to rise, so that any large gathering of people is seen as suspicious.

 

There is also a rumour going around that something is happening just outside of the gates of the city.  There is this preacher and healer and miracle worker named Jesus, from Galilee up there in the north, who has come to Jerusalem in time for the Passover.  People are saying that he can cast out demons, that he walks on water, and that he has even brought people back from the dead.  They’ve started calling him the Messiah, the anointed one, anointed like our kings in the past were anointed.  The rumours say that he is the one who is going to overthrow the Romans, and that he will be our king instead of them.

 

We make our way slowly to the gates on the eastern side of the city.  We have to move slowly because the streets are so full – everywhere you turn there are people – people on foot, people with animals, people selling things, people buying things.  It is crowded, noisy, chaotic.  A cacophony of languages fills the air from the pilgrims from every corner of the world.

 

When we leave the gates of the city and start to travel along the road towards Bethany, we can see this Jesus, surrounded by his little band of followers, but the crowd has grown so that there are hundreds of people gathered around, maybe even a thousand people.

 

It’s almost like this Jesus is organizing a show for us – a bit of street theatre.  He’s sent a couple of his followers to find a donkey for him, and now he is riding towards the city gates like a conquering hero… except he is sitting on a donkey instead of a war horse.  We can join the parade, and as we go, the crowd is getting noisy.  They are shouting and waving palm branches that they had cut from nearby trees. 

 

And then a group of people starts to sing, and they are singing one of the psalms of our people – Psalm 118.  It starts with just a small group, but then more and more people join in until it is more like a shout than a song:

           Hosanna!  Save us!

Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!

           Hosanna!  Save us!

 

I wonder what Jesus is trying to say with this parade?  What is his message?  What is he trying to accomplish?  Usually street theatre is a tool that marginalized groups use to speak truth to power – “Oh, no, you can’t get us in trouble for saying that – it’s just a play!”

 

It is a celebration for sure, but it doesn’t feel quite right.  People are excited that something new is coming.  People are confident that this Jesus can save them.  People are willing to risk being part of a crowd in a time and a place where that is a dangerous thing to do, just in order to be part of this procession.  And yet there is a tension in the air, like something big is coming that we don’t quite understand yet.

 

I also wonder about the crowds who joined the parade that day.  All through this season of Lent, we’ve been reading stories about individual people who encountered Jesus and how they were changed by that encounter, but today we have a whole crowd of people.  And I wonder how they were changed by participating in this parade.

 

I wonder if there were people in the parade that day who became disciples, who joined the group of Jesus’s followers.  They don’t have many days left to learn directly from Jesus, but they can learn of his teachings from his other disciples, and then go on to share Jesus’s message with others.

 

I wonder if there were people who were a part of the parade that day who went home that evening and said to their spouse, “Well, that was fun”; and then never gave it a second thought.

 

My wonderings also take a more serious bent.  We’re told that some people in the crowd that day were part of the crowd that saw Jesus raise his friend Lazarus from the dead; and we’re going to encounter another crowd in just a couple of chapters.  I wonder if anyone who was part of the Palm Sunday crowd was also part of the crowd that shouted “Crucify!” outside of Pilate’s palace?

 

Just as there are multiple faces to the crowd that day, I think that each of us has an opportunity to choose how we will respond when we encounter Jesus.  Do we choose to stop and listen to his message, and allow ourselves to be changed by his message, and then go on to be part of his message?  Or do we encounter Jesus and hear his message and then file it away under “interesting, but not relevant to me”?  Or do we encounter Jesus one day, then turn around and deny him the next day, in our words and in our actions?

 

For almost 6 weeks now, we have been journeying through the season of Lent, hearing these stories of people who encountered Jesus and how they were changed because of it.  Now we are on the threshold of Holy Week.  As we journey through the days ahead of us, we are going to encounter tender moment, painful moments, grief-filled moments, fearful moments, empty moments, before we can get to next Sunday and the empty tomb.

 

As we stay by Jesus’s side all the way to the cross, how do you want to be changed by your journey with Jesus?  My prayer for all of us, as we stay close to Jesus this week, is that the Holy Spirit might work in all of our hearts and lives, transforming all of us so that we might be more and more like the one whom we follow.  That the faith, the peace, the courage, the love of God that Jesus shows to us might bloom in all of our hearts and our lives.  And may it be so.  Amen.

 

 

“Entry into the City”

John August Swanson

Used with permission.