May 17 -- Seventh Sunday of Easter

My brother Tim -- or as my kids refer to him (at his request) “Uncle Awesome” -- got married in Ireland in 2009.  And it was a truly joyous occasion as all of us travelled over “the pond”, first time to Ireland, to witness and celebrate this beautiful event, tucked away in the northernmost tip of the Republic.  It was a whole week of festivities.  And Tim and Caitriona have friends from all over the world, so it was like the United Nations...with Guiness.  And speaking of beer, I’m not sure if it’s the Irish tradition or just a tradition with Tim and his friends, but when they go out, they make it a big event, and people are having lots of fun.  What I noticed is that no one ever just went up to the bar for themselves, they always checked with everyone in the group, sometimes as many as 20 people, if anyone needed a refill.  Which meant -- and I swear I’ll tie this into our text -- it meant, the Guinness was flowing all night.  It got a little wild, it was friends and family reuniting, it was so much fun.  And now that I’ve set the scene, and told you a little about the etiquette and the atmosphere, I want to tell you about one of Tim’s friends: Gareth.   

Gareth is a passionate, little Irishman from the south, with a spouse and 2 young children, I believe.  They were friends from Trinity in Dublin, where Tim got into this whole mess in the first place.  And here’s all I wanted to tell you about Gareth:  He participated in this buying massive rounds business, just like the rest of us (you can tell I was a little begrudging or at least shocked by this extravagant and expensive custom), but I’ll never forget when Gareth received a pint from someone’s trip to the bar:  It was set graciously before him by the server, [demonstrate/describe].  He was so happy, and grateful.  

I thought of a few images of people in my life being so excited and grateful:  I thought of Katie, when she came home from preschool that afternoon 2 years ago, to meet our new dog Chloe for the first time -- squealing and jumping up and down with glee.  On the other end of the age spectrum, my Grandpa Roschke, my dad’s dad, was a happy, goofy, elated man, and when he received his doctorate, the afternoon after he presented his dissertation and defense and was approved, the family tells a funny story about how he went whistling all the way down Michigan Avenue in Chicago.  But these are great one-time experiences, momentous occasions, that beg a delightful response.

Lots of great stories like that -- maybe you have some too --  but I kept coming back to Gareth -- in this typical Irish pub, with pints of Guinness practically rolling out on a conveyer belt for all the friends and family -- because there was nothing one-time about this experience.  [pause]

There is a certain passion that comes with the Apostle Paul, when he talks about God and God’s grace:

“What then are we to say?  Should we continue in sin in order that grace may abound?  By no means!  (Hell no!)  How can we who died to sin go on living in it?  Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?  Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that just as as Christ was raised from the dead, so we too might walk in newness of life.”  [Gareth’s gesture] Yes!

Another round: “We know that Christ, being raised from the dead, will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him.  The death he died, he died to sin, once for all...so you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.” [Gareth’s gesture] Yes!

Another round!  “Therefore present yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life...for sin will have no dominion over you, since you are not under the law but under grace.”  [Gareth’s gesture] Yes!

We Lutherans, we baptized followers of Jesus, can be a little like French people in their restaurants in Paris...

Heather and I didn’t actually go into any restaurants in Paris -- too pricey for us -- but I did peek into a couple, long enough to notice -- not only the menu but also -- the people inside.  And like nice restaurants anywhere, they’re just sitting there amid all the elegance, quietly eating and talking.  Heather and I, for a few of our dinners, went to a local gourmet food shop, where they sell this amazing French cuisine that you point to what you want, and they put it in plastic to-go containers.  Doesn’t sound all that exotic, but we’d take this stuff back to our apartment, heat it up just a little...and was so glad that I wasn’t in a restaurant eating it...because I actually had to scream, it was so good.  I think I actually fell out of my chair onto the kitchen floor.  And these people eat this stuff all the time!  [Gareth’s gesture]

Sometimes we church-folk can be a little nonchalant about this Good News.  [droning] “So you must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God...Just as Jesus was raised from the dead, so we too might walk in newness of life.” = “Oh, thanks for pint.  Guess I gotta buy the next round, huh.” 

I’m not saying we have to come out of our skin here.  We are more like French people in a fancy, French restaurant, politely talking, quietly worshiping, reserved and cool, friendly with each other.  We’re not Pentecostals like Gareth (and me screaming on the kitchen floor in Paris).

But let’s not let our external civility reflect our internal response and joy at hearing, drinking in and tasting this Good News of God.

I was at a big preaching conference this week in Denver.  You would have loved it: Sermon, lecture, sermon, lecture, sermon, lecture, sermon, lecture.  Lunch...  And one of our presenters talked about the great call-and-response we say over and over during this Easter season -- “Christ is risen, he is risen indeed.  Alleluia.”  And he was just wondering if we’ve domesticated the resurrection of Jesus a bit with that...like that’s the extent that we celebrate Easter.  We say that.  But do we believe it, and even more, do we believe what it means for us?  It means that because he was raised from the dead, we are too...and not just after we die, but even now.

Because Christ was raised, we are raised.  Because Christ lives anew, we live anew, starting now, this day.  Because Christ comes through suffering, we come through our suffering.  Because Christ forgives us, we forgive one another.  Because Christ loves this whole world, we love this whole world.  Because Christ greets us with “Peace be with you”, we greet each other with “Peace be with you”.  

We’ve got everything we need right here!  It’s really quite profound, the most profound, and we might take that in like the French quietly enjoy an exquisite meal, but it’s real, friends in Christ; it’s delicious.

[pause]  I was  with our kids up at Luther Glen yesterday for their Work Day, getting the camp ready for summer, and I was talking to a lay member from San Marcos Lutheran, and he was asking about what I was preaching on today, and I told him about this text.  He knew it right away.  “Oh,” he said, “Romans 6 is what I hope they read at my funeral.”  It was the equivalent to Gareth’s exuberance. 

[Matisse painting, Le Danse]

Let this good word of God’s love today move you, shake you from lethargy, hold you in your pain, comfort you in your despair, connect you with one another, this community of faith, and finally propel you into the world.  Shall we just go on living in sin?  Hell no.  That’s ridiculous.  When we come in contact with God’s grace, when we get splashed with the baptismal waters, we are thrown back into the world, joyfully, to serve and love.  We can’t help ourselves.  

It’s like Gareth, when his turn came to buy the round, there wasn’t an ounce of bitterness or begrudging or shock.  There was only joy and gratitude.  May it be so.  In Jesus’ name.  AMEN.