The Seventh Sunday of Easter - May 17

Between Ascension and Pentecost
Acts 1:15-17, 21-26

The reading we heard this morning from the first chapter of Acts tracks chronologically with where we are in the church calendar. Acts, as you probably know, is a sequel to Luke, written by the same author. The end of Luke describes Jesus’ death and resurrection and recounts several post-resurrection appearances of Jesus to the disciples. It is Luke who tells the story of the resurrected Christ appearing to several disciples along the road to Emmaus. Then later Jesus appears to all of the disciples gathered in Jerusalem. The next event is Jesus’ ascension when Jesus in bodily form left the earth to be with God in heaven. The ascension is described at the very end of Luke and again in the opening verses of Acts, just before the reading we heard today. In the church calendar we celebrated Jesus’ ascension this past Thursday. The next event described in Acts is the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. We’ll celebrate Pentecost next Sunday. So today’s story places us, appropriately, between Jesus’ ascension and Pentecost.

So one way to look at this story is to see it as the first thing the disciples did on their own without the physical presence or direct guidance of Jesus. It tells about choosing Matthias to fill the vacancy left by Judas’ death. Discussions of this passage often focus on how Matthias was chosen and what particular qualities recommended him for inclusion as a disciple.

But I had a new insight this week into how difficult and challenging this situation must have been for Peter and the other disciples. I hadn’t really thought before about the impact of Judas’ betrayal on the other disciples and the early Christian community. How did Judas’ betrayal of Jesus affect the other disciples?

We know Judas, of course, only as “the betrayer.” Judas’ sole identity for us is as the one who betrayed Jesus. But the disciples knew him before. He was “one of the twelve,” chosen by Jesus for this special calling. As Peter says in Acts, “Judas, who served as guide for those who arrested Jesus … was one of our number and shared in our ministry” (Acts 1:16-7). They were comrades in this new and exciting and holy ministry. For years, they had closely shared their lives with one another. They would have known each other well. Throughout his earthly ministry when Jesus sent out disciples to preach, teach, and heal, Judas was among them.

Judas betrayed Jesus, but he also was a traitor to the other disciples.

What was it like for them? Those of us with some awareness of modern psychology can only imagine! The second guessing of the past, anger, confusion and frustration, a profound sense of personal betrayal.

So the disciples find themselves as a crucial time, wondering how to move into the future without Jesus. And then they have the emotional complications of Judas’ betrayal and death. Judas’ death also left their number incomplete. The twelve disciples, representing the twelve tribes of Israel, the fullness of God’s people… That completeness was incomplete.

And it was Judas they needed to replace.

The uncertainty, complicated feelings and situation, could easily have been paralyzing.

What did they have? What did they have to help as they tried to look to the future?

They had the memories of their own experiences with Jesus, the faith and conviction they had gained while with him. And they had his commission, his words commissioning them for a future. Several accounts tell of Jesus’ words to the disciples just before his ascension. In Acts, Jesus says: “you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth” (Acts 1:8).

The great commission of Matthew is probably more familiar. There, before Jesus ascends he says: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Matthew 27:19-20).

Go. Go forward. Witness to me. Baptize and make disciples. To the ends of the earth.

Given what the disciples faced at this crucial time, it seems to me that it is miraculous that the early Christian movement survived. It is truly miraculous that the Christian movement survived and moved forward.

They had Jesus’ commission. They also had corporate prayer. Luke and Acts tell us that after Jesus ascension the disciples came together and were constantly in prayer. Praying together. And surely in the corporate prayer they found healing and direction. And, although we don’t celebrate Pentecost until next Sunday, I think the Holy Spirit was already afoot, inspiring and enabling the disciples. They were, in a sense, resurrected given new life as the Body of Christ. To carry Jesus proclamation, healing and reconciliation forward into the world.

We are their heirs. We are also their successors, called to witness to Christ in our world.

There’s a wonderful prayer for the church in the Book of Common Prayer. It occurs in the ordination services. It also appears in the intercessions on Good Friday, when we reflect upon Jesus’ hopes for his followers. Let us pray:

O God of unchangeable power and eternal light: Look favorably on your whole Church, that wonderful and sacred mystery; by the effectual working of your providence, carry out in tranquillity the plan of salvation; let the whole world see and know that things which were being cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new, and that all things are being brought to their perfection by him through whom all things were made, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

The Sixth Sunday of Easter - May 10

Intentional Love
1 John 5:1-6
John 15:9-17

For the last few weeks there has been a lot of talk about love in the Scripture readings. Especially as we are working our way through the first Letter of John, and today also in the Gospel reading from John.

The Greek word translated love in these passages is agape. It’s a particular favorite of John and others in his community. Looking at just the noun agape, one article I read this week points out that Mark never uses the word; Matthew and Luke each use it only once; John uses it seven times (three in this morning’s reading); and it appears 18 times in the First Letter of John. If you counted the verbs derived from the same word, there would be even more in the Gospel and Letters of John. Agape refers to a particular kind of love.

You may have heard before that the English word “love” is asked to cover a very wide range of meanings. Other languages, including Greek, use more than one word to talk about different kinds of loves. C. S. Lewis’ book The Four Loves outlines four different kinds of love which he labels affection, friendship, eros, and charity.

So when Jesus says, in today’s Gospel, “This is my commandment: That you love one another as I have loved you,” what does he mean? Love one another as God loves us. Nothing to it, right?!

He’s talking about agape. Agape one another as God agape’s us. A lot has been written about agape. It has been described as self-giving love. A love that always desires the best for the other. It is sometimes translated “charity” in English Bibles.

This week I encountered a slightly new description of agape that I find very helpful. Intentional love. Agape is intentional love.

If you think about it, that may seem like an oxymoron in terms of how we usually describe love. Or if not an oxymoron, a negative, like “arranged marriage.” The glory of love is that it is unintentional. Love just happens. It grows wondrously on its own. Or it’s a gift. Love is unintentional.

But not agape. To be a Christian is to say to others: “I intend to love you.” I intend to love you.

With God’s help. So often in the Book of Common Prayer when we are praying for some aspect of our own Christian behavior, we add “with God’s help.” In last week’s Gospel reading from John, Jesus said, “I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing.”

But with me, you can do what I do. If we are the branches connected to Jesus the vine, the same sap, the same strength, the same purpose that was in him is in us. With God’s help, we can (at least to some degree) love others as he loves us.

Agape. Intentional love.

It means: Be kind to people you don’t like. Be intentionally kind to people you don’t like.

Help people you don’t know. People half way around the world. People different from you. Act to help them.

And support those you do know. Do all you can to support and sustain people you do know so that their lives and faith can flourish.

And, always remember, God intentionally loves each one of us. No matter who we are, what we do, whether we are worthy or not, God intentionally loves each one of us. Always.

The Fifth Sunday of Easter - May 3

The Blind Men, the Elephant, and Psalm 22
Psalm 22:24-30

Some of you may know the parable of the blind men and the elephant. It’s not one of the parables in our sacred scriptures. It comes from the Indian subcontinent, where apparently it occurs in several variations with various morals. It became more well known in the west after 19th century American poet John Godfrey Saxe wrote a poem about it. So since we’re just on the heels of “National Poetry Month,” I thought I’d share that version with you.

It was six men of Indostan
To learning much inclined,
Who went to see the Elephant
(Though all of them were blind),
That each by observation
Might satisfy his mind.

The First approached the Elephant,
And happening to fall
Against his broad and sturdy side,
At once began to bawl:
"God bless me! but the Elephant
Is very like a WALL!"

The Second, feeling of the tusk,
Cried, "Ho, what have we here,
So very round and smooth and sharp?
To me 'tis mighty clear
This wonder of an Elephant
Is very like a SPEAR!"

The Third approached the animal,
And happening to take
The squirming trunk within his hands,
Thus boldly up and spake:
"I see," quoth he, "the Elephant
Is very like a SNAKE!"

The Fourth reached out an eager hand,
And felt about the knee
"What most this wondrous beast is like
Is mighty plain," quoth he:
"'Tis clear enough the Elephant
Is very like a TREE!"

The Fifth, who chanced to touch the ear,
Said: "E'en the blindest man
Can tell what this resembles most;
Deny the fact who can,
This marvel of an Elephant
Is very like a FAN!"

The Sixth no sooner had begun
About the beast to grope,
Than seizing on the swinging tail
That fell within his scope,
"I see," quoth he, "the Elephant
Is very like a ROPE!"

And so these men of Indostan
Disputed loud and long,
Each in his own opinion
Exceeding stiff and strong,
Though each was partly in the right,
And all were in the wrong! 

The elephant, in all of its elephant-ness doesn’t change. But each man only experiences a portion of the elephant and assumes that his partial experience defines the full reality of the elephant.

Believe it or not, it is today’s portion of the psalter that brought to mind for me the parable of the blind men and the elephant. No, there is no mention of an elephant in the psalm. But did anyone raise your eyebrows listening to the portion of the psalm that we prayed today? Words of hope and praise. But this is psalm 22. Psalm 22!

Psalm 22 begins:

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
and are so far from my cry and from the words of my distress?

O my God, I cry in the daytime, but you do not answer;
by night as well, but I find no rest. 

Jesus’ words from the cross. And words which express one human experience of God. A dark and profound experience of loss. The voice of the first man of Indostan. Especially as I think of the psalm and the parable in parallel, it seems like Psalm 22 expresses a list of very different human experiences of God.

Psalm 22 continues:

Our forefathers put their trust in you;
they trusted, and you delivered them.

They cried out to you and were delivered;
they trusted in you and were not put to shame. 

The second man of Indostan is angry with God. He experiences God as apparently capricious, seeming to deliver some people, but not others.

Yet you are he who took me out of the womb,
and kept me safe upon my mother's breast.

I have been entrusted to you ever since I was born;
you were my God when I was still in my mother's womb.

Be not far from me, for trouble is near,
and there is none to help. 

Yearning. A sense of God’s presence, God being woven in with all of life, and a heartfelt yearning to be with God, to know God’s presence.

Then Psalm 22 continues with words of extreme helplessness. Vivid images that express human nothingness without God.

Many young bulls encircle me;
They open wide their jaws at me, like a ravening and a roaring lion.

My mouth is dried out like a pot-sherd…

Packs of dogs close me in
and gangs of evildoers circle around me… 

And yet, the psalmist persists in trust, perseveres in the conviction that God can and will rescue him. What are we up to? The fourth man of Indostan? The fourth different human experience or reaction to God.  Perseverence. Calling upon the Lord.  The conviction that God will save.

Be not far away, O LORD;
you are my strength; hasten to help me.

Save me!

Save me! 

Then finally, we are coming into the portion of Psalm 22 that we prayed today.

Praise the LORD, you that fear him;
stand in awe of him, O offspring of Israel; all you of Jacob's line, give glory.

For he does not despise nor abhor the poor in their poverty;
neither does he hide his face from them;
but when they cry to him he hears them.

My praise is of him in the great assembly

All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the LORD

My soul shall live for him;
my descendants shall serve him;
they shall be known as the LORD'S for ever.

They shall come and make known to a people yet unborn
the saving deeds that he has done. 

Words of deep hope and praise. Another piece of the human experience of God. Unbridled praise and reassuring hope even for a people yet unborn.

Looking at Psalm 22 this way leads me to a couple of reflections. One is a warning to beware of cherry-picking individual verses of Scripture. Just like each of the men from Indostan experienced only a portion of the elephant, individual portions of this psalm only express very partially the human experience of God. God’s reality, God’s presence, are always there. But our experiences of God are always partial. A sense of abandonment… feelings of anger… yearning… hope and praise… all of these are part of a faithful life.

Be wary, in particular, of anyone who suggests that a “real” or “true” Christian will always be full of hope and praise.

I’m also aware, as some of you may remember, that we read all of Psalm 22 on Good Friday. When we stand at the cross confronting Jesus’ crucifixion but looking forwards towards Easter, we read all of Psalm 22. There is a path from despair to hope, from anger to praise. That trajectory is the Christian promise. We are on that journey. Our own relationships and experiences of God are not static, but are moving towards praise and hope. That’s not to say that individual journeys won’t loop around and back track from time to time. They will.  But persevere. We are all ultimately headed towards hope and praise.