from Pastor Dan

February 16, 2018 — The Season of Lent

Dear friends and family of Shepherd of the Valley Lutheran Church, 

It is with an incredible spectrum of emotions — both a very heavy heart and great excitement — that I share with you this news:  I have received and accepted a call to be the pastor at Bethlehem Lutheran Church in Fairfax, Virginia.  It’s a small but solid congregation just outside of the Washington D.C. beltway.  I will be resigning my call here at Shepherd of the Valley, effective June 15.  My last workday among you will be May 27, 2018, Holy Trinity Sunday.

This letter comes at the conclusion of a long and painfully private journey of prayerful discernment. I have served as your pastor since July 2008.  We have walked together through both magic and tragic days: baptisms, weddings, funerals, confirmations, anniversaries, preschool chapel and graduations, an exciting building project, trips, camps, retreats, and lots and lots of every-days.  Through the seasons and the years, we have striven to be the community in faith that God has called us to be, together.  And I am so grateful for that...for you. This congregation is in a very strong place, with a bright future for dynamic Gospel ministry, continuing always to “extend God’s welcome to all we meet along the way”!  It’s just that my time has come to move along, as a new chapter begins.  

Please know that I am not leaving because of any conflicts or grievances.  Quite the opposite!  I feel so comfortable and safe here.  I am leaving because change and movement — I would call it “procession” (like what we do every Sunday in worship) — is how God’s church thrives.  I think of our beautiful sanctuary banner from Guatemala, with God’s people always in procession.  I have discerned that it’s time for a new pastor and a new voice to be in your midst, and there are so many great ones!    

SVLC will be an extremely attractive site; Bishop Andy Taylor and his Assistant for Mobility, Pastor Terry Tuvey Allen, will be a blessing in this process; and I trust that God will absolutely direct your steps into your next chapter.  Meanwhile, I am stepping into a new call, where — trusting in God — my gifts and passions are a fit for their next chapter.  Can you see God’s church moving?  Always in procession, pressing on in faith, even as ministers come and go, never dependent on any one leader...except Christ.

I remain hopeful, nervous, nostalgic and excited.  I’ll aways be so thankful to God for you — to have had the privilege of serving, sharing life and vocation together.  My family and I absolutely love you all and this place, which makes this extremely difficult.  

I will especially miss working so closely with Jenny, Ron, Tanya and Gina...and Dusty Holycross — all absolute angels, as you know, faithful and loving shepherds among us.

While this announcement may come as a shock today, this new season of farewell and re-visioning is a somewhat extended period of time — longer than usual, I understand:  Heather and I would like our children to finish their school year, and we would like for them, and all of us, to have some time to transition and say good-bye.  (Micah and Katie are just learning about this big move too.)  All that is to say, we’re not gone yet... 

I look forward to sharing ministry with you for some more months: Lent, Holy Week, Easter and Pentecost are before us.  The Gospel of John continues.  Potential projects together abound. (Solar panels, becoming “Reconciling in Christ”, new carpet, landscaping, youth ministry, serving the growing numbers of people who are homeless in our area, and reviving the Community Garden are just a few that come to mind, right off the bat!)  What would you like to do together while I’m still here?  Every day is a day of grace, amen?  And Jesus guides our remaining days together.  There is plenty of Gospel work — and Gospel play — yet to share.  And the good Holy Spirit certainly still stirs among us in this Lenten journey, as in all times and seasons.  

After all, look at how far our God has brought us!  What words have we been repeating from the Scriptures all these years?  “Do not be afraid” (67x throughout the Bible).  God’s got us, no matter what...today, tomorrow, into new ventures, and into eternity.  Let us continue to hold each other in prayer, as we carry on in faith, hope and love.

Inhaling grace, exhaling peace,

Pastor Dan

“Light our way, O God of the living, May we learn to see with new eyes!  

Jesus the Lord, our power and promise; light for the blind, and food for the hungry: 

God is alive!  Alleluia!” (SVLC’s Hymn of Praise in 2017, by D. Haas, verse 4.)

February 14 -- Ash Wednesday (Good Shepherd)

Grace to you and peace on this Ash Wednesday.  AMEN.

Today at the beginning of Lent, we reflect again on Christ as our shepherd, our Shepherd of the Valley.  But here in this Gospel text, Jesus also very clearly states (vs. 9) that he’s the gate.  This image is often lost or subsumed by the Good Shepherd image.  Lots of Good Shepherd Lutheran Churches out there.  I’ve never been to a “Holy Gate Lutheran Church.”  

But the image of Christ as the gate is a very important one too.

It really gives us…and gave the people of John’s day…an opportunity to reflect on “church” – those who reside both inside and move outside of the fold, the sheep, us – we are in here now within the fence, we’ll go out there into this Lenten season, we’ll come back in here on Sundays (and Wed.)...  

John the Gospel writer’s community had tons of different “church groups” popping up in his day.  It must have been terribly confusing—all of them claiming to be the right way (that’s the “hired hands”, false prophets).  This image of Jesus as the Gate of the church is poignant.  It gives us an opportunity again here on Ash Wednesday to stop and check ourselves at the door, at the gate.  Here’s the question:
Do we, sheep of God, live as though Christ is our gate?  In other words, is Christ the means by which we come and go from this place?

Or is something else the means by which we come to and go from church, the fold?  Is it the friends, or the escape from the world?  Or maybe it’s the pastor... 

This is a really good question about pastors too.  We have to be careful that pastors aren’t the means by which we come and go from this place.  

I always get so uncomfortable when people say to me, “It’s your church, Pastor.” Or worse: “It’s your show.”  Partly because I like that idea.  [pause]  What if it was “my church”— put yourself in my shoes — what if people looked to you to dazzle us, “give us a great show”.  Enticing maybe?  All to many story of pastors getting drunk on their own egos...I’m sorry, but the pastor’s picture outside in front of “their” church, down by the street, I think, really sends a strange message…Who is the gate there?  (We have a cross out front.)

Even the Bible, I think, can become an alternative gate!  Do we point to Christ or do we point to the Bible?  Luther and his companions were very clear—and I think very helpful—on this, saying that the Bible is only meant to point to Christ.  “Cradle of Christ”.  

      

Is Christ the means by which we come and go here at SVLC?  I think our answer is — most honestly — a wonderful blend of yes and no.  We do some things really well:  The text talks about having “life abundant”?... I see that here, in so many ways!  I am proud and thankful to be a part of it—not just a leader of it—but a part of it.  SVLC has pastors that come and go, council presidents, leaders that come and go, people that come and go.  There’s never been one, single human being we can point to who captures the absolute essence and embodiment of SVLC; rather, there is a spirit here that endures  through the seasons and through the changes...because I believe we do strive to live in ways that reflect the reality – that Christ is truly the means by which we come and go!

And of course as a church, we wouldn’t be a church or human beings for that matter, if we didn’t still have some work to do…

Welcome to Lent.  That’s what Lent is all about.  Now we’re invited to take that honest look, that inner journey: 

How might we even more share what we have with those in need, how might we even more give ourselves to the teachings of the Jesus and the Apostles, who shared with anyone who had any need.  How might we even more delve into the Word of God, hear even more the voice of our Good Shepherd, beckoning us to greater trust, deeper faith, higher risk, nudging us out into the world and back into “the fold”/the church.  Where is Christ the Good Shepherd calling you this new contemplative season?  Leading you toward more inner work, leading you outward beyond the fences?  Christ is that gate through which we walk in either direction.

[slowly] What do you see as being the thing most needed...is it the same thing you think Christ sees as being the thing most needing attention?  Jesus opens our eyes to a new way of seeing.  Last week we had the story of the blind man, right before this episode: these Good Shepherd and Holy Gate texts are the explanation texts for that sign that Jesus performed: restoring sight to the blind.  This is what that means!  It means that now we see as Christ sees that which is most important...  

Jesus continues to be our Gate, sisters and brothers in Christ, the means by which we come and go.  Thanks be to God our Good Shepherd – who guide us even now, who still lead us, who watches over us, who nudges us both into the fence and back out, and who always, always enfolds us with eternal love and abundant life.  

Today, we begin anew the Lenten walk with Jesus.  AMEN. 

February 11 -- Man Born Blind

So many ways to go here.  But I’d like to focus on that pool where Jesus tells the blind man to wash: what that meant then, and how this speaks to each of us today.

— 

First, Jesus puts mud in his eyes.  Other years, I’ve talked about that great toast that I grew up with: before clinking glasses,  “Here’s mud in your eye!”  That comes from this passage.  “Here’s to seeing things in a new and healthy way!” First Jesus puts mud in his eyes, and then he tells him to go wash off that mud...

This is the 6^th sign of Jesus in the Gospel of John.  The 1^st, you’ll remember is the water-to-wine.  Then — we’ve skipped a bunch jumping to Chapter 9 today, but — Jesus also heals the royal official’s son, heals the paralytic, feeds the 5000, walks on water.  Then the blind man today.  Then Lazarus.)  All signs point to Jesus’ divinity.  

7 signs all together in John.  And it’s no coincidence that there are also 7 days of creation, way back in Genesis.  Jesus is re-creating, re-newing, re-defining, re-freshing the whole creation in these 7 signs.  So, hear these stories and wonders of Jesus in a cosmic, universal context.  They’re always about/symbolizing much more than just one person being healed (or even 5000 being fed) a long time ago...  

So today is the 6^th sign, Transfiguration Sunday: Jesus puts mud in the blind man’s eyes and then tells him to “Go wash in the Pool of Siloam (which means sent).” Go wash in the Sending Waters.

So what does it mean to wash in the Pool of Sent?  In the Sending Bath?  Sounds like a baptismal font to me!  ;)

First of all: [page through your worship folder] 

See the sections?  What’s the longest section?

Trick question: Sending...

So again, what does it mean to be washed in the Sending Waters?  In the Pool of Sent (or Siloam)?

The once-blind man’s story gives us some ideas to instruct us for the “longest part of the worship service”:

First of all, being washed in the Sending waters means being healed!  Christ heals us too!  What are your “blind spots”?  Think about that this week.  And know that Jesus puts mud in our eyes too and sends us also past the the Sent Pool and out into the world anew, re-freshed, re-created, re-defined!  The Word and the Meal are like mud in our eyes, and then as we pass by those holy waters on the way out we have been made new!  Being washed means that we are healed, sisters and brothers in Christ!

Being washed in “Sent” means being honest.  “All I know is that once I was blind but now I see.”  Here’s what I know.  Pay attention to your experience.  I feel like 9x out of 10 when a person changes they’re mind about something (maybe this has happened to you?), it’s not because of a new doctrine that got rammed down their throat; it’s because of an experience:  

*All I know is that once I never really cared that deeply for protecting the environment, for example, but then I spent a week in the Rockies hiking and camping…

*All I know is that I was taught that gay people were bad and dirty and wrong, but then I met Lawrence…

*All I’ve ever know is that I always thought Christians were judgmental and insular even cruel, and then I came to SVLC...

The blind man reminds us to pay attention, and be honest about our experiences, how they affect us, and how they change us.  We could remain unchanged, even with our sight restored…  

But not the blind man: “All I know is that once I was blind, but now I can see.”

Being washed in the Sending waters also means facing opposition and even aggression calmly.  Did you see how he did that.  He just stuck to his truth calmly, even while the inevitable opposition came on strong.  This breaks with the way it’s “supposed to be,” you see.  The blind man stays calm —and we see — faithful.  He’s not swayed by the fire and fury, the violence of the opposition.  

(This is kind of a footnote but it’s also instructive:  Being washed in the Sending Pool also means staying out of triangles.  Triangulation.  Heard of that?  “Go ask him.  Let him speak for himself…”)

Finally, being washed in Sent means worshipping Jesus...even while others don’t believe or “see”.  Vs. 38:  “He said, ‘Lord, I believe.’ And he worshiped him.”  

On this Transfiguration Sunday we too fall down and worship Jesus.  We entrust ourselves to Christ’s mud touch and care and transformative healing again.  We give thanks for all that God has done for us — we show that thanksgiving in our tithing and our offerings, and our songs of praise.  Worship means worthy.  What is worthy of our sacrifice?  That’s the true object of our worship.  People make sacrifices and put their trust — i.e. people worship — all kinds of things.  The blind man worships Jesus…who loves us, whether we fall down, worship and recognize him or not.  

Whether we see it or not.  (Sing with children, “Jesus loves me when I’m good...Jesus loves me when I’m bad…”) 

But friends, that gift of new vision is ours this day.  This pool is right over there…We are bathed in those ever-flowing waters of the “Sending”.  And in that, is the peace that passes all human understanding.  

That peace is ours this day, and always, in Jesus’ name.  Amen.  

February 4 -- Woman at the Well

“Come and see the One who knows everything about me...and loves me anyway.”  

Last week, we heard from John’s Gospel of the conversation with a man under the cover of deep darkness, and of the grace that those moments can offer.  Today, we hear of a conversation with Jesus at the polar opposite time of day: at noon.  The sun is the highest and the hottest.  The light is the greatest.  

Last week, Jesus met a man at the center of power, at the center of temple life in the ancient Jewish world, a Pharisee, a man with a name: Nicodemus...by night.  Today, Jesus meets a woman on the edge, on the fringe, a Samaritan, who doesn’t even worship at the temple in Jerusalem.  And her name is not even mentioned.

It’s a wonderful and very stark contrast from last week’s Gospel to this week’s.  Christ in both places...and all places.  And always “staying” (abiding)!  [that’s another sermon...]

Honesty is a powerful theme in these Chapters 3 & 4 of John.  Jesus’ conversation today with the Samaritan woman draws us right into this theme and others: honesty, changing of  ways, even beliefs, place of worship, letting go and moving out...

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The woman at the well has, for years, been assumed to be a prostitute or a harlot, even as we have no concrete evidence that this is the case.  Some have assumed that since she has had 5 husbands, that it must be her fault and she gets around.  But in recent years, many scholars and theologians have wondered and asserted differently.  Maybe she’s lost 5 husbands, to disease or war.  Or, in that day in age, a man could permissibly divorce and literally throw his wife out for just about any reason...often for not bearing children.  And being cast out, especially again and again, made a woman ritually unclean to the whole community.  [There’s a youth group exercise with a Hershey kiss…]  One scholar was even so bold as to state: Jesus is not slut-shaming this woman, so let’s not ever understand this passage in that way again.  She doesn’t disgust us; she inspires us with her witness in bringing her whole community out to meet this Jesus.  

...but it starts with her being an outcast.  That’s why she’s at the well by herself, at the least favorable time of day.  If we had to draw water from wells in the Middle East, we’d probably all want to go in the morning or the evening when it was cooler.  She’s been cast out of the comfortable times and circles of people.  She’s been relegated to noon-time.

And this woman was hurting.  No question.  She could have been grieving, she could have been physically battered and bruised.  And even if promiscuity or a certain sexual recklessness was part of her story — which many of us can relate to today, being careless and hurtful to our own bodies and others) — even if it was that, well, she no doubt had a painful story.  

She was “at the edge”.  A nameless woman, a Samaritan, and divorced and chewed up -- the imagery of “other” couldn’t be more blunt for the first hearers of John’s Gospel.  It always helps, when we’re talking about Samaritans, to think of who your Samaritan is today -- Muslims, atheists, evangelicals, Hillary Clinton supporters, Donald Trump sympathizers, Russians, LGBTQ, rich people, poor people, certain family members or friends you can’t stand/stomach…

[a word about jumping to extreme-KKK, rapist, terrorist (getting off the hook?) vs. thinking about someone at work, church, cul-du-sac...)

it’s always helpful when we talk about Samaritans to draw our own lines, honestly (and deeply personally), and remember that Jesus is always there on the other side too, on the other side of the divisions that we make among ourselves...talking with the 5x-divorced, Samaritan woman.  

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And the site of this extra-ordinary meeting is this ancient well, Jacob’s well, a place still supplying water, just as it did centuries ago for Jacob and his flocks!  Since the 4^th century this has been one of the KEY baptismal texts for Christians.  Many baptismal fonts in Europe and the Middle East, Northern Africa (and in some of our churches too) are designed to resemble a well.  There is still water coming from the well: this is the place where Jesus meets us.  (Beautiful, new fountain at our entrance today: baptismal, cosmic, in memory of loved ones, in thanksgiving for God’s faithfulness and love!)

Jesus reaches out to this woman—and to all who are on the outside and hurting, all whose histories are messy and painful—and Christ offers healing, peace, truth and love.

“Come and see the One who knows everything about me...and loves me anyway!” she proclaims.

Just as there is grace in the darkness—as we were reminded last week—there is incredible grace and hope in bringing things to light...in bringing our stuff out into the open before Christ.  It starts in the dark, down deep in the soil, as the Spirit nudges us and stirs us, to be honest, and what a catharsis when it comes out.  Growth happens.  A new chapter begins — letting go of the past, moving outward into God’s future.  Out of the deep, peaceful darkness (Nicodemus) certain things come to light (the woman at the well).  Ah, Gospel of John!

Every Sunday (Luther even encourages daily) we offer our confession, splashed by the well waters of eternal life, and receive God’s mercy.  It’s like “we’ve had 5 husbands.” We confess not just our sin but also our pain and sorrow: “Lord, we are grieving and hurting; call us back to you.  We’ve had 5 husbands.  Forgive us for what we’ve done wrong — for the things for which we must take responsibility.  Comfort us in our pain and sorrow — in the things over which we have no control.  Draw us to you, as you point us back out (not inward) to be your people to the strange and the strangers.”

--

Finally, you’ve just gotta love the scene of Jesus talking with a person who is so vastly different.  (My Grandpa Hanske’s like this — he loves just chatting with strangers and he’s genuinely interested.)  Jesus meets and talks in the midst of difference... 

And then she goes back to her community from whom she’s estranged, and in a twist, actually leads them out!  She goes and opens their eyes to see in a new way. 

Our call here, our vocation, is to be like this woman at the well.  We meet Jesus here, in this place, at this table, at this water well, and then we go and call others, “Come and see the One who knows everything about me...and loves me anyway!”

There is still water coming from the well.  Forgiveness, new life, hope for a broken world.  Living water gushes and cleanses us now and nourishes us for faithfulness into eternity.  Jesus meets us and sees us plainly again this day, all our faults and blemishes, all our pains and sorrows, clear in the light of this day...and loves us anyway.  

Now that’s worth sharing!  Thanks be to God.  Amen.   

HOD: “For All the Faithful Women” 419,  vss. 1,8, 2

January 28 -- Nicodemus

Consider the thoughts that keep you up at night.  I think those thoughts give us real insight into what is important to us, what really concerns us, or what must be confronted in the day/s ahead.  What are the insights that come to you in the wee hours of the morning, the ideas – like skittish deer that creep up to the creek at dawn?  One sound, one distraction and they’re gone again.  Do you write those ideas down?

I always used to get really frustrated about waking up in the wee hours of the morning, trying to force myself back to sleep.  (I still do sometimes, thinking about all the things for which I need my rest when the sun comes up.)  But I once had a colleague, a friend when I was on my internship in St. Louis, say to me—when I was complaining to her about being awake the night before against my will—say, “Oh, don’t you just love those nights?  Holy time.  I thank God every time I am awakened in the night for no external reason.  That silence, that peace, that time alone with God.  I write, I sit in the darkness, sometimes I just walk around the house.  It is such a gift.”  I always try to think of her perspective when I wake up during the night, mind churning.

Nicodemus, in our Gospel text, must have had one of those rough nights.  I wonder if he couldn’t sleep.  Something was keeping him up too.  This episode follows the dramatic scene last week where Jesus overturns the money tables in the temple.  In John, already in Chapter 2, Jesus is driving out the money changers.  And Nicodemus, one of the Pharisees, one of the good teachers and keepers of Jewish law had seen it all.  And something about what he saw or what Jesus said, was keeping him awake.  [pause]

Nicodemus was a lot like a good Lutheran, by all cultural standards.  He had been in the church for years, he had family that had been in the church for years.  He was one of those legacy members.  He had roots.  He could tell stories about his father and mother and their faithful involvements with the church…the Jewish equivalents to altar guild, choir, confirmation.  He knew all the traditional songs, he had watched all the new trends come and go, he had been on councils and committees, he understood the flow of the religious calendar, and he had long eaten the traditional dishes – the ancient Jewish versions of carrot jello, cheesy pasta casserole, lemon bars.  He really knew everything there was to know about religious life.  And the more he thought about it, in those wee morning hours, the more he felt like he really should be the one instructing and inspiring and impressing Jesus.  His words and actions ought to be keeping Jesus awake at night, not the other way around.  Do you know anyone like Nicodemus?  Are you like Nicodemus?  Nicodemus was like a good, salt-of-the-earth Lutheran. (And if I was preaching to Presbyterians, I’d say he was like a good Presbyterian.)  He was one of the charters, on all the boards, the keeper of memories and customs and the great “how we’ve always done it.”  There was a formula for being religious and Nicodemus knew it.  

But something has rocked his safe and familiar world.  There’s something that shook him a little the day before, and he needs to iron it out, clear it up, smooth it over, so he can get back to sleep.  He probably just misunderstood Jesus in that big public display the day before.  “Jesus couldn’t have really meant what it seemed like he was saying, could he?” Nicodemus just needed to clear it up, a little one-to-one time oughtta do the trick...

Do you think we uber-faithful types could ever have our boats rocked, our tables turned, by Jesus like that?  Could we, who have heard before the message of salvation like 1000x, we who have sung the hymns of the faith, and sampled the potlucks and congregational meetings through the years, like Nicodemus, really have anything more to learn…from one of the most popular passages in the entire Bible – John 3:16 and surrounding verses?      

You know, on a few occasions I’ve had people say to me, regulars, salt-of-the-earth Lutherans say, “You know, I wish [so-and-so] could have been here to hear this message today.  They would have really benefited.”  [pause]  I think I understand that sentiment…usually comes from a place of concern and love for a close relative or friend, but sometimes it’s almost as if John 3:16, for example, isn’t really for the good church people anymore.  “Yeah, yeah, we’ve already heard this; wish all those others could hear it.”  But “God so loved the world...” is for all of us!  There is more room for all of us to grow in faith, thanks be to God.  Kierkegaard said that the hardest people to reach with the Gospel are Christians.  Either we think we already know it all, maybe like Nicodemus, or we just can’t seem to trust that it’s for us too – the gifts of God.  And the gifts of God are life in the Spirit, unconditional love and grace in the face of our faults.  Rebirth – a gift from God…this is what Jesus discusses with Nicodemus.  Life in the light. 

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Rebirth is really all about baptism.  What a great day to baptize Landon and Sofia!  [pause] In fact, “being born again” was always a reference in the Christian church to being made new in Christ by water and the Spirit (i.e. baptism)...until the 20^th century when some made it into a formula.  Some Christians, mostly in the United States, felt that Christianity was being seriously threatened by the Enlightenment and other philosophical movements in Europe, and started talking (and making threats of their own) about being born again as a formula to avoid the fires of hell. Every single one of us then grew up in -- at least the remnant or the ripple, if not the center -- of that early 20^th c. theological reaction.  

But we aren’t “born again” by decision or formula.  Decision and formula has nothing to do with Jesus’ main thrust in the Gospel of John!  Rebirth in Christ’s love is what God decides to do for us, and we mark that in baptism with words and water and oil.  God (subject) so loves the world (object).  All we can do is open our hands and trust – “whosoever trusts that God so dearly loves this world, that God was made flesh and embedded into this earth”…all we can do is trust that, and then life in the Spirit is ours.  Trusting that God so loves this world, we then have joy – not “surface joy”, deep joy.  Not just after you die…you will live joyfully and eternally starting now.  Trust is a journey (Lenten theme this year is “walking”), it takes the community of faithful people around you.  And it takes openness, willingness to quiet ourselves and receive a gift (like welcoming a sleepless night).  Sometimes, those of us church folks have the hardest time receiving gifts.  We’re used to giving gifts, not receiving them.  We’re used to offering of ourselves our time and our money.  But this gift of faith, this visit from Christ, is for us too.  (And it comes long before we do any offering.)

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I love the honesty of Nicodemus.  And I give thanks for this Gospel story of him struggling with Jesus under the cover of darkness.  Darkness gives us some space to be honest.  In other words, thank God for the night.  Sometimes there are things that are difficult to say by day…even to my spouse Heather.  But if we can lay in the dark at night and say what we need to say, I give thanks for that space, that darkness, to be honest.  Night time and darkness is not just for wickedness and deceit, as it’s often imaged.  The shadows give us some space to be honest before God.  Pillow talk with God. 

Once again, we may say in the safety and silence of darkness, “God here I am, a sinner, you know my thoughts and my wrongdoings.   And you love me anyway.  I am struggling to be honest about who I am.  Put me back together, God, in this safe space, in the cover of night.  Put me back together to be the human being that you made me to be.  Give me courage.  Give me wisdom.  Give me the willingness to trust in you.”  And God responds to us once again, “I so love you; I so love this world.  Trust and know that I am your God.  I will not forsake you. I will give you peace.”  AMEN.   

January 21 -- Jesus Cleanses the Temple

Grace to you and peace, 

Sisters and brothers in Christ, God is always doing a new thing.  God is always moving us in the direction of change, evolving us  toward greater faithfulness, deeper peace, fuller grace.

That’s true in this exciting story as well.  All the Gospels have a story about Jesus in the temple overturning the tables.  But interestingly, this one comes right at the beginning of his ministry.  Chapter 2!  Matthew, Mark and Luke all have Jesus driving out the money-changers not until the beginning of Holy Week, at the end of his earthly ministry.  It’s part of what fuels the chief priests and scribes’ fire to have him arrested and finally crucified, remember?  But here Jesus does it at the beginning of his 3 year ministry.  What do you think did he do this twice?  Did John forget to mention him doing it again a few days before his passion, death and resurrection?  

Whatever conclusion you come to, what is happening here, is something different in terms of what this means.  John’s Gospel, as you’re probably learning this year is very different!  

For one thing, Jesus doesn’t show much emotion.  He doesn’t call names — he doesn’t call them “robbers”.  I don’t even think he seems all that angry, like in the other Gospels.  In John, it’s not an inditement on money corruption, economic inequalities, social injustice.  Jesus just says, “Don’t make this a marketplace.”  In John, it’s always a deeply spiritual matter...which can arrive us at those other issues.  But what’s happening here first is a radical theological replacement.

See, the people were used to buying cattle, sheep and doves when they arrived in Jerusalem for the Passover.  That’s what you did as part of the ritual sacrifice, that’s how the people celebrated Passover.  First, they sacrificed by traveling all the way to Jerusalem every year...specifically to the temple, the only place where God was believed to dwell.  And then, when they get there, after walking all those miles, they’d buy an animal to sacrifice.  Like Professor Karoline Lewis said, “You’re not gonna schlep a sheep from Galilee.”  

So everyone was used to seeing this mall of animals, like a farmers market, in the inner walls of the temple.  And for the “money changers” — by the way — this very well could have been their livelihood...  I have a friend who used to act out this scene, from the perspective of the money changers:  Jesus knocking over everything: “Man. That’s my dinner tonight, man.  How am I going to feed my family this month.  Who is this guy?”  I think that’s an interesting commentary on this story in Matthew Mark and Luke.  But here in John, Jesus is doing something radically theological (as opposed to political in the other cases):

Jesus is throwing out ritual sacrifice.  He is throwing out the idea that you have to buy something to earn God’s favor.  I’d even say, as a Lutheran, he’s throwing out the idea that you have to do something to earn God’s good graces.  Radical theological replacement, you see.  He’s throwing out the idea too that God only lives in the high temple, in the holiest of holies, there in Jerusalem.  

What’s happening here, already in chapter 2, is that we’re getting to see that God is breaking out, God — i.e. Christ himself — is breaking beyond the walls and the rules of the temple and the tradition.  In fact, Christ himself is the temple now!  There is no one place to go where you can visit God.  God is out there on the road.  

We see that in John as Jesus just. keeps. moving! 

Holiness is everywhere now, not just in temples or churches.

And because it’s everywhere we’re no longer chained to a checklist of sacrifices and journeys we have to make.  Jesus becomes the temple.  And this temple, that is his body, is nothin’ but love.  Nothing but abundant life and peace and forgiveness and grace! Overflowing, all encompassing holiness.

That’s what we’re offered now.  Here.

When holiness shows up everywhere, when we’re covered by Christ, then we do start to act differently, we do start to see differently, we do start to use our money differently, vote differently, speak differently, serve differently.  We don’t change our ways because there’s some kind of reward at the end!  That’s the old ritual sacrifice transaction:  I’ll give you this, God...so that will will give me that.  

We don’t barter with God!  We already have this reward!

We only respond to God...who through Christ, who always acts first in LOVE and generosity.  God always makes the first move, all we can do is respond (great statement of faith!).  

When people are doing cruel things, especially church people, or people that say they’re Christians, it always makes me sad because it’s like they’re reading the Bible but not understanding it.  They’re reading something, and at the same time not seeing/getting/receiving that this God is pouring out love and forgiveness FIRST.  Not after we make some kind of sacrifice or do some kind of ritual or good work to earn this.  

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On this Martin Luther King Jr. week, I was listening to an interview of Rep. John Lewis of Georgia.  John Lewis was a Freedom Rider, marched with Dr. King and participated in those famous sit-ins in the Deep South, where he and other African Americans would walk into a diner and just sit quietly, longing to be served. People would spit on them because they were black, they’d pour hot coffee and syrup on them, call them all kinds of horrible names…

And as John Lewis talked about this and other forms of non-violent resistance he said at the heart of it all was love.  “You have to love your enemies and those who persecute you.”

And then he told this story from just a couple years ago, when a former KKK member requested an audience with Lewis because he wanted to apologize.  And with tears in his eyes this now-very-old white man says, “I’m sorry for what I did to you, those many years ago.  My heart was filled with hate.  Not anymore.  Will you accept my apology?”  And John Lewis said, “I accept your apology,” and then reflects calmly in this interview, “See, that’s the power of radical love, the love of Jesus.  It’s the most powerful force in the world, and it has the power to overturn the tables.”

Friends in Christ, Jesus in the temple, this “cleansing” is breaking us out of old, oppressive ways and systems.  And inviting us again — “come and see” — inviting us again down the road of discipleship, down the path of Jesus.  This is a radical theological replacement!  Love not law.  No more burdens or chains.  Freedom is walking the way of compassion and forgiveness.  New life.

This love, grace, mercy and cleansing healing is for you.  It’s right here and now.  Take a deep, Johanine breath: soak it up.  Chew it down, drink it in.  Taste and see that God is good.  Feast on this abundance that Christ offers freely to you today.  The old has been replaced with AGAPE — unconditional love — and so we. have. been. made. new.  Greater faithfulness, deeper peace, fuller grace.  Thanks be to God.  AMEN.

January 14 -- Wedding at Cana

Our scripture reading today starts by saying “On the third day” — “On the third day there was a wedding in Cana.”  Let’s think about Third Day Events here.  I suppose John’s suggesting that the first two days occurred in Chapter 1 because we’re just starting Chapter 2.  But with John, there’s always more to it:  The Third Day is a connection here at the beginning of this book to the resurrection that takes place at the end of this book.  Life conquers death.  This is what a Third Day Event is.

And we hear that this is the first of Jesus’ signs.  There are 7 signs of Jesus in John’s Gospel.  This is the first.  It’s like those puzzles that reveal a little bit at a time, or a spotlight that shines on just a little part of a greater whole.  Not until all the pieces, all the lights are shined will Jesus be fully revealed.  But this is the first!  And man, this one is exciting!

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Unexpected extravagance is almost unacceptable for us.

Have you ever been lavished with goodness and you really have a hard time accepting it?  I know you have!  I’ve talked to many of you about it!  This is a tough text for us Lutherans...who don’t always act like Lutherans!  I mean we call ourselves Lutherans but we are often, if we’re honest, reluctant if not totally rejecting of extravagant grace and abundance.  “No, no, no,” we say humbly (and even self-less-ly, “I don’t deserve that,” we think to ourselves, “make sure someone else gets the extravagance.  Not me.”  If you’re resonating with this kind of struggle, this is the text for you!  

It’s kind of like struggling to let someone else pay for your meal, or a big meal.  Now, not everyone struggles with that.  Some are happy to let others pay for their food and drink and this text is for you too (if that describes you).  

But how about the ones who always cover themselves — and others too — so graciously and extravagantly?  Can you accept another covering you, grace...that comes flowing in such ridiculous amounts of abundance here?  

(150 gallons!  I personally translate wine images into beer: that’s 10 giant kegs!  1 keg at a wedding is always too much! 10??!!!  It’s definitely not needed!) 

Wine overflowing: this is our first glimpse of Jesus’ glory.  One scholar talked about this miracle as thing of “dissonance." *  It’s not only a surprise, it’s actually a little disturbing.  There shouldn’t be that much wine, right?  That’s scandalous (which literally means a stumbling block)!  Exactly.  Paul says Christ is a stumbling block.  Some simply can’t get past certain things about grace to fully accept this God-with-us, this Word that becomes flesh and dwells among us!  It’s hard to hear, it’s dissonant, this much goodness.  NO!  “You’ve got to earn it, earn it,” our little Western, Protestant-work-ethic brains are crying out.  But there’s this part of our hearts, maybe even our whole bodies, that is whispering (maybe shamefully), “Would be fun though…”

See, John’s Gospel again and again challenges the mind, threatens and seeks to annihilate the shameful voices in our heads, the “you’ve gotta earn it”, and instead draws us into extravagance!  That’s what grace really is.  It’s totally undeserved.  We have a hard time with that.

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OK, the six 20-30 gallon jars?  Let’s talk about that:  Everything is symbol in John.  Six jars represent the old religion.  The old way of doing things, even the old way of celebrating.  They’re water jars for religious purification! Did you get that?  That’s like taking our holy things here in order to have a party?  

Can you imagine grabbing [this chalice] for a wedding you’re going to on Saturday night?

Jesus is consecrating the new by using the old.  He’s taking the holy and using it for the everyday, and in that way making the everyday holy.  

(Remember I said a few weeks ago that for Jesus in John, everything becomes holy? Everything becomes “a sacrament”?)  Jesus is blowing up religious tradition, and by that I don’t mean destroying it: I mean more literally blowing up [wider and wider, bigger and bigger] — YES, this is holy, but so is this and this and this and this!

Walking your dog and picking up her poop in the evening breeze is sacramental.  Scrubbing the gunk off of the dinner plates as you listen to a podcast is sacramental.   Going to the dentist and talking about about your plans for the MLK holiday   is sacramental.  Having a drink with a friend,  getting a massage, laughing together in a boardroom meeting, reading a bedtime story to a child, flying to San Antonio, shopping for fruits and vegetables...you see?  It just goes on and on!  Everything is holy now!  Grace overflowing, pouring out 150 ridiculous gallons, just more and more!

When you think about when you’ve most felt God’s presence in your life, which we have to ask ourselves often when studying the Gospel of John.  [pause]  Don’t just think about the toughest of times — when you/your loved one was sick or death at hand, but somehow you knew God’s deep, abiding, very real presence.  Don’t just think about the dark times when God was truly there for you.  Those are definitely true moments of God’s presence...But today reminds us that God is with us in the absolute overflowing grace-filled, joy-filled, love-filled, laughter-filled, beer-and-wine-filled, food-filled, family-and-friends-filled, glorious-nature-filled highlights — 

the very best that this life and this world has to offer, too.  Third Day Events.

I think of my brother Tim and Caitriona’s wedding in Ireland in 2009.  That was a Third Day Event for me.  Wouldn’t have missed it, so glad we did it.  Family and friends — new and old —  gathered together in an area that seemed like the edge of the world.  For days (in the rain — didn’t matter) we too celebrated a wedding, toured around, sat by the fire, laughed and laughed, ate and drank, and danced and sang, and told stories and celebrated life and love, and joy and peace.

And when you experience those things, you want to share them with others.  You want others to have Third Day Events too, you long for everyone to be so blessed...you just can’t help yourself from feeling that way...That’s the power of a Third Day Event...

Let me conclude by calling our attention to Jesus’ mother:  We should follow her lead and approach to Jesus pleading, “They have no wine.” In other words, we should come to Jesus tell him what to do too: We pray for other people.  We don’t just hoard all this goodness and grace for ourselves.  We don’t just revel in Jesus’ presence and then go home, forgetting what we’ve experienced.  That’s not a Third Day Event.  No, we accept this absolute wonder and joy, we swim in it -- laugh and eat and sing and drink and dance.  We party with Jesus, and we also, even during the party, like his mom, plead with Jesus, “They have no wine.”  Let’s try that now: let us pray...

“Give to others the grace that we have received so abundantly, loving God.  Blow open the old ways that come up empty.  And fill us and this whole world with newness, with joy and mercy and unity and peace.  In your name we pray.  AMEN”

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*New Interpreters Bible, “John”, Gail O’Day