We've Already Heard this Story

Sermon from April 8, 2012

(Easter Day – Year B)

John 20:1-18

St. Alban’s Episcopal Church, Waco, Texas

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Believe it or not, I do still remember my first Easter as a priest.

I was the assistant rector at St. Mary’s Episcopal Church.

I was new and green and had bright ideas to try out on the lay people.

As a brand new priest, I was convinced that Sunday school for adults and children should not be cancelled on Easter Day.

So I proposed at St. Mary’s that we continue with Sunday school, even on Easter morning.

The program for Sunday school that I proposed was simple.

The adults who happened to show up for Sunday school on Easter would act out the Easter Gospel for the kids who happened to show up.

It actually was a pretty good idea.

On Easter morning, about 10 adults showed up for Sunday school in the parish hall.

And about 15 kids showed up for Sunday school in the children’s education room.

So I corralled the adults together and we practiced how we were going to perform the story of the Easter Gospel for the kids.

A woman volunteered to play the part of Mary Magdalene.

Another chose to play the part of Jesus.

And another chose to be John, to be Peter, etc.

We quickly grabbed a few props from the parish hall kitchen.

And after 10 minutes of practicing, we were ready for primetime.

We walked downstairs and entered the children’s Sunday school room.

I announced:

“Boys and girls, the adults have a special Easter gift for you.

We are going to perform an amazing story, just for you!”

We then dimmed the lights a bit for effect.

The woman playing the part of Mary Magdalene began to approach from stage left and the narrator began:

“Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb...”

Then a boy in the back of the room yelled out:

“We’ve already heard this story before!”

We have already heard this story before.

For many of us, we have heard the same story, again and again, every Easter morning.

We have heard about the stone covering the tomb being rolled away.

We have heard about the various combinations of women who discover the empty tomb.

We have heard about how God raised Jesus from the dead.

We have heard about how we are not to cling to Jesus but we are to go and tell the good news to all his followers.

We’ve already heard the story before.

For some of us here today, maybe we only heard this story for the very first time when Jimmy read it from the center aisle just a moment ago.

However, I doubt that anyone in this church today has not already received the information that Jesus Christ is risen from the dead.

We have heard the story before.

The question is what we are going to do with the resurrection story after we leave this church this morning.

The question is:

How are we going to live the story in our own lives: tomorrow and the next day and the next?

The resurrection story in the Gospel of John gives us a clue as to how we are to live the resurrection story in our daily lives.

After the risen Jesus appears to Mary Magdalene, after Jesus says her name, the first words out of the risen Jesus’ mouth are:

“Do not hold on to me…

But go to my brothers and tell them the good news.”

And so Mary Magdalene is the first very apostle, the very first evangelist.

Mary goes and tells the male disciples the good news, shouting:

“I have seen the Lord!”

For as many times as we in this church today have heard the story, there are thousands of people outside of these walls who do not fully know the story of the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Unfortunately, there are others who have heard only a skewed or inaccurate version of the story.

Last week, I learned about the cancellation of the public Easter egg hunt for children in Colorado Springs.

The Easter egg hunt was also to be cancelled in Macon, Georgia, as well.

The reason why some communities are cancelling their Easter egg hunts is that parents of the children are so competitive that the parents actually storm onto the lawn, collecting the eggs for their children.

In some places, helicopter parents hover over their children, encouraging them to knock over other kids so that their children can gather the most eggs.

Obviously the good news of resurrection still needs to be proclaimed everywhere, including at Easter egg hunts.

The world is hungry for accurate good news, the good news that we were not made for competition, but we are made for community.

The world is hungry for good news, the good news that Jesus rose for us so that we can live a new life, a life not centered on ourselves, but centered on others.

The world is hungry for good news, the good news that Jesus is not about a strict code of regulations, but Jesus’ love is alive and actively at work in our world, today.

The risen Jesus’ first words to us are:

Do not cling to me.

But go.

Go outside these walls and be the good news by shouting:

“I have seen the Lord!”

You see, I don’t care how many times we have already heard the Easter story.

Yet I do care that we live the story, as Easter people.

So go and tell and live the story.

Go - and be good news, speaking out against a skewed gospel that presents Christianity as a judgmental competition.

Tell - and share with your family and friends how you have seen the Lord, in your life today.

Live - and approach each day as if it is your last - because if it is your last, you have the promise of resurrection.

Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb.

“We’ve already heard this story before!”

I know you have.

So go into the world – and live the resurrection!

AMEN.

Tell Me the Truth

Sermon from April 6, 2012

(Good Friday – Year B)

John 18:1-19:42

Delivered at

St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Waco, Texas

I can remember sitting on the floor, red-faced and with hot cheeks.

I can remember sitting Indian-style at one end of the living room floor.

And my younger brother sat on the floor at the opposite end of the living room.

And my mother sat in a chair between us - with her arms folded in front and with a look of disgust on her face.

My mother glared first at my brother and then she glared at me and exclaimed:

“You boys are not going anywhere –

Until one of you tells me the truth.”

I can’t remember now exactly what my brother or I had done.

Maybe one of us had knocked over a lamp and broke it.

Or maybe one of us had made a mess in the playroom.

Yet no matter what it was that my brother or I had done,

Neither one of us was willing to tell the truth.

So my brother and I sat at opposite ends of the living room floor, with my mother perched on the judgment seat.

After a few minutes, she repeated her direction:

“Tell me the truth.

Tell me now who did it.

Because you are not getting up from here –

Until one of you tells me the truth.”

Eventually, one of my mother’s sons broke down and admitted the wrongdoing.

One of us brothers broke down and told the truth.

And one of us was exposed as a liar.

Because my mother was always true to her word.

No one was going anywhere, until someone tells the truth.

When I hear the story of the passion of Lord Jesus Christ, as it is told in John’s Gospel, I am always intrigued by the encounter between Jesus and Pontius Pilate.

Pilate demands that Jesus tell the truth.

And Jesus answers:

“For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth.”

Pilate and Jesus sit at opposite ends of the living room floor.

One of them is a liar and one of them is telling the truth.

Yet Jesus was born into this world, to tell the truth.

Jesus walked on this earth, to tell the truth.

Jesus died on a cross, to tell the truth.

In fact, John’s Gospel is filled with evidence that Jesus is the truth.

In the opening words of the Gospel of John, we hear that:

“The Word became flesh and lived among us.

And we have seen his glory…full of grace and truth.”

In the Gospel of John, Jesus explains:

“You shall know the truth, and the truth will set you free.

In the Gospel of John, Jesus proclaims:

“I am the Way and the Truth and the Life.”

And then, on Good Friday, Pontius Pilate asks Jesus:

“What is truth?”

And Jesus answers with deafening silence.

But Jesus does answer the question -

By stretching out his arms upon the hard wood of the cross.

Jesus is full of grace and truth.

Jesus is the Truth.

Jesus tells the truth.

And the truth is love.

When I read my newsfeed on Google news, I am thirsty for the real truth.

When I read about the death of Trayvon Martin at the hands of George Zimmerman, I want to know the truth.

For those who don’t know what I am talking about, Trayvon Martin was the African-American boy who was wearing a hoodie.

And Trayvon was recently shot by George Zimmerman, a neighborhood watchman.

In my search for the truth, I wish that I could put both Trayvon Martin and George Zimmerman into opposite corners of the living room.

I want to sit on the judgment seat and ask them:

George Zimmerman: did you act in self-defense?

Trayvon Martin: were you an innocent victim of racial profiling?

I am thirsty to know the truth:

Which one of you is a liar and which one of you is telling the truth?

Yet, like Pilate, we are looking for the wrong answers.

Because no matter who was at fault,

The truth is that a life was tragically lost because we are a people of violence and prejudice and sin.

The truth is that we are a broken people who crucify others - rather than love others.

The truth is that Jesus exposes all of us as liars.

For the truth is love.

On Good Friday, Jesus looks squarely into our eyes and proclaims:

“For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth.”

And the truth is love.

On Good Friday and on every day, we sit on the judgment seat, trying to figure out what is a lie and what is the truth.

We are seeped in a culture that tells us that everything around us is ours.

We have been told that the cars that we drive, the houses that we live in, the jobs that we have, the debit card in our wallet –

These are all ours, gained by our hard work.

Yet that is a lie.

The truth is that heaven and earth are full of God’s glory and the stuff that we have is actually God’s, on loan to us so that we might use it to love others, rather than use it to love on ourselves.

On the cross, Jesus exposes that the god of consumerism and consumption is a liar.

And the truth is love.

We are seeped in a culture that tells us that violence and prejudice are the answer to our problems and differences.

We have been told that if someone looks black and is wearing a hoodie, then they must be up to no good.

We are told that if someone looks like a redneck, then they must be a bigot.

We are told that if we just had bigger bombs and better weapons and more crucifixions and just one more spiteful thing to say to put our meddling mother-in-law into her place,

Then we would be safe and secure.

Yet that is a lie.

The truth is that Jesus goes willingly to the cross –

Never, ever retaliating or acting out of self-defense.

On the cross, Jesus exposes that the god of violence is a liar.

And the truth is love.

Love is the only truth.

Love is the only measure by which we are judged.

And Love is on the Cross.

For God is Love.

On Good Friday, Jesus and Pontius Pilate sit at opposite ends of the living room floor.

And my mother was always true to her word.

No one is going anywhere, until someone tells the truth.

So from his cross, Jesus finally confesses:

“For this I was born, and for this I came into the world,

To tell the truth.”

AMEN.

He Saves Others

Sermon from April 1, 2012

(Palm Sunday – Year B)

Mark 14:32-15:39

St. Albans’s Episcopal Church, Waco, Texas

He saved others.

He cannot save himself.

The crowd, the congregation, makes this accusation of Jesus as he hangs on his cross.

The crowd taunts Jesus by saying:

“He saved others.

He cannot save himself.

Let him come down from the cross now, so that we may see and believe.”

He saved others.

Yet he cannot save himself.

Yes, that’s right.

Jesus did not – and Jesus does not – save himself.

Because Jesus saves others.

Jesus is saving you.

And Jesus is saving me.

At St. Alban’s over the last several weeks, we have learned that we are being saved.

In the Book of Acts, which we studied during the season of Epiphany, we learned that the very earliest followers of Jesus described themselves as:

“Those who are being saved.”

We have learned that this phrase:

“Those who are being saved”

Has a different nuance to it than:

“Those who were saved.”

Being saved is not only a one-time event.

But being saved is a journey.

For salvation – the healing of our souls and bodies – is both a one-time event on the cross.

And being saved is a journey, a journey of becoming healed and whole.

During this season of Lent, we invited 3 lay people each Sunday, people just like you, to make a presentation during Sunday School, each answering the question in their own lives:

How am I being saved?

And we heard 12 people share compelling and calming and challenging stories.

We heard 12 stories of how Jesus does not come down from the cross to save himself.

We heard 12 different stories about how Jesus is saving others.

And on Sunday evenings in Lent, we invited five pastors in our city, mainly of the Baptist variety, to speak to us in our Lenten Speaker series.

All of them shared with us about how they are being saved by Jesus.

In each of their stories, our guest speakers shared how their salvation and healing comes from the one-time event on the cross of Jesus.

And they are being saved in a journey, a journey of becoming healed and whole.

In each of their stories, Jesus is saving others, rather than saving himself.

And now, as we approach the end of Lent, I want to share how I am being saved.

For I am being saved, each and every day that I encounter Jesus on his cross.

Particularly, I am being saved by this drama that we just experienced, the drama of the passion and death of our Lord Jesus Christ.

For in hearing of the last days of Jesus on this earth, I am being saved when I hear about the followers of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane.

Jesus pleads with his sleepy followers:

“Can’t you stay awake with me for even one hour?”

And I know that, in my own life, my mind and attention wanders from Jesus constantly.

To give Jesus my undivided attention, for even an hour, can be difficult.

Yet I am being saved because Jesus understands my human weakness.

Jesus still loves me, despite my wanderings from him.

And that is how I know that I am being saved.

I am being saved when I listen to Peter, his impetuous follower, deny Jesus.

Not only does Peter deny Jesus, but Peter denies him three times.

Yet I am being saved because Jesus understands the denials and betrayals of this life.

Jesus still loves me, despite my denials and betrayals.

And that is how I know that I am being saved.

I am being saved when I hear the crowd around Jesus shout “Hosanna!” as they wave palm branches.

And the same crowd then succumbs to mob mentality as their cries switch quickly to “Crucify him!”

Yet I am being saved because Jesus understands that I can be easily influenced by others, saying whatever it takes just to get along.

Jesus still loves me, despite my desire to please others around me.

And that is how I know that I am being saved.

And I am being saved when I hear the last words of Jesus on his cross, as Jesus groans:

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

On the cross, Jesus experiences the depth of human pain and suffering, feeling lonely and rejected.

And I am being saved because Jesus understands my own feelings of loneliness and rejection.

Jesus still loves me, despite my own cries of:

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

And that is how I know that I am being saved.

While Jesus hangs on his cross, the crowd taunts him saying:

“He saved others.

He cannot save himself.”

Thank God that Jesus does not save himself.

Thank God that Jesus saves others.

On the cross, Jesus still loves you

And he still loves me.

And that is how I know - that I am being saved.