"The Welcome We Offer"
A sermon related to Matthew 25:34-40
 
CENTRAL FOCUS:
The unity of humanity and life (non-dual consciousness) is the Good News and our realization of this Good News (salvation) is illustrated by how we engage the margins.
 
Then the Sovereign will say to those on the right, ‘Come, you that are blessed, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me,  I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.’  
 
Then the righteous will answer, ‘When was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing?  And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?’ And the Sovereign will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me.’  
 
For the Word of God in Scripture,
For the Word of God among us,
For the Word of God within us,
Thanks be to God.

----------
 
This scene of the Last Judgment portrayed in Matthew, Chapter 25 is familiar to many in our tradition.  Like most Biblical stories and scenes, it is not literal, but is a collage of symbols and images. It is a teaching vehicle. Such end time or final moment scenes are a way to teach about ultimate values, a way to say when it is all added up, in the end, this is what matters, this is what is true, this is what is of value to Life. 
 
So what is Matthew’s Jesus trying to show us, to teach us? Apparently, it involves the margins of life and our relationship to that. The sick and the imprisoned, the thirsty and the hungry, the naked and the alienated. These are the people and realities at the margins of life, aren’t they? These are those who are suffering and struggling for what is necessary to live. They seek the life-giving realities of health and freedom, clean water and food, shelter and a place to connect and belong, a place to be welcomed.  
 
In one sense, Matthew’s Jesus is teaching a simple faith of compassion that is known in its simple concrete compassionate actions. There are those in need, meet their need; visit them in prison, care for them in their sickness, provide the basics of clothing, shelter, and food. Participate in giving directly to another in their need.

If that is all you get from this story, that is good and faithful. That is an important part of the way of life.
 
And … we can go further. This can be an image also of social, systemic justice.  To use another image, we can give people fish, and can even teach them to fish, yes, but we can also ask why there are so many without fish. We can ask why the waters are not plentiful with fish or why only certain people get to fish in the waters that are plentiful? This systemic understanding also is a worthy and faithful teaching of this story. We can extend this story to the collective common good and be faithful with our communal and political actions to serve that good; we advocate, we vote, we act in large blocs and seek to organize our society differently.

A second layer of this teaching. Go and do likewise.
 
And there is yet another truth level to this story. There’s a deeper layer, a paradoxical spiritual truth of the unity of Life, a mystical reality where we include ourselves in the marginalized possibility, where identity of self and other is not so distinct.
 
Over the years, in churches like ours, we may have gotten used to hearing this story as the one in which we are the givers always, the ones with water and food and shelter and clothing, always the ones visiting. But in Jesus’ identification with those on the margins, The Christ Voice is acknowledging the whole condition of life as including the margins. In Jesus’ life, as one who was willing to be at the margins, to be the suffering one, to be the one in prison, he is including the margins as part of the whole for all of us. As it is said in the wisdom traditions of the East, “I am that.” At the level of spiritual paradox, beyond individual egos and individualism, we are each humanity in all its forms. Indeed, we are that.
 
The root spiritual knowing of the unity and interdependence of humanity and all life is the taproot for the welcome we are called to offer, a welcome of compassionate engagement with the margins. It draws the circle wide and wider still.
 
Let me clarify: This does not erase the difference in our social locations. The damaging fiction of race and the realities of unequal wealth and education and opportunity and healthcare are real and have real world consequences. But even as that is true, the good news from Matthew’s community is that the way through this injustice and inequality, this separation and hardheartedness, requires also the mystery of unity so that we are always engaging the margins with a compassionate egalitarian welcome as partners, as kin, as compatriots in the situation and miracle of life. 
 
The spiritual truth of Christ being there, of us being there as humanity, keeps us from a sense of superiority and separateness. We cannot be a gated community of secure givers, seeing ourselves only as havers and helpers. We also must have a humble identity of sameness, equality, and solidarity.
 
As Lilla Watson, Gangulu nation woman, professor, and activist of Australia says….“If you have come here to help me you are wasting your time, but if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together.”
 
As the hymn we will sing today at the end of our service says,
 
In Christ there is no East or West,
in Christ no South or North;
But one community of love
throughout the whole wide earth.
 
Christ Presence is on both sides of the equation because ultimately there are not two sides at the deepest level. The Christ Presence is the one that meets the needs, alleviates the suffering, is in solidarity with those on the margins and, at the same time, is the suffering one on the margin receiving care and experiencing relief and liberation. I wonder if we can stretch our spiritual imaginations to imagine that.
 
Perhaps you are one of the people who has seen themselves as resourced, as having those things that people on the margins do not, and you see yourself as a person trying to meet those needs of those on the margin. Wonderful. That is one of the good and simple teachings of the story.
 
And it is also in our Bible story that the very conception of giver and receiver breaks down as Jesus in the role of the Christ slips into the mystical identity of the other.
 
Just as God-with-us, Immanuel, became the imprisoned one, the naked one, the suffering one, the vulnerable one, so we too know this can be true for any of us, literally or spiritually, and that at a deep level, we are all in this being human together.
 
Perhaps another story can help us. Once upon a time there was a wise abbot of a monastery who was the friend of an equally wise rabbi. This was in the old country, long ago, when times were always hard, but just then they were even worse. The abbot’s community was dwindling, and the faith life of his monks was fearful, weak and anxious. He went to his friend and wept. His friend, the Rabbi, comforted him, and said “there is something you need to know, my brother. We have long known in the Jewish community that the Messiah is one of you.”
 
"What,” exclaimed the abbot, “the Messiah is one of us? How can this be?”
 
But the Rabbi insisted that it was so, and the abbot went back to his monastery wondering and praying, comforted and excited. Once back in the monastery, he would pass by a monk and wonder if he was the one. Sitting in chapel, praying, he would hear a voice and look intently at a face and wonder, ‘Is he the one?’ The abbot had always been kind, but now began to treat all of his brothers with profound kindness and awe, ever deeper respect, even reverence. Soon everyone noticed. One of the other brothers came to him and asked him what had happened to him.
 
After some coaxing, the abbot told him what the rabbi had said. Soon the other monk was looking at his brothers differently, with deeper respect and wondering. Word spread quickly: the Messiah is one of us. The monastery was suddenly full of life, worship, love and grace. Their prayer life was rich and passionate, devoted, and services were alive and vibrant. Soon the surrounding villagers came to the services, listening and watching intently, and many joined the community of monks. After their novitiate, when they took their vows, they were told the mystery, the truth that their life was based upon, the source of their strength, the richness of their life together: The Messiah is one of us.
 
The monastery grew and expanded into house after house, and the monks grew in wisdom and grace before each other and in the eyes of God. And they say still, that if you stumble across this place where there is life and hope and kindness and graciousness, that the secret is the same: The Messiah is one of us.
 
Welcome has been named as core value of this congregation, a radical and abundant welcome. The very first strategic goal listed in the recently approved strategic plan. The welcome we offer will need to come from that place of compassion that meets the concrete needs of those on the margin, yet also calls us into the deep place of nonduality where we are no different from and even identify as humanity marginalized and in need, each seeing that we can be The Christ giving and The Christ receiving.
 
What if we welcomed each other and anyone as The Christ?
What if we welcomed ourselves as having Christ within us, both the humble Christ in need who receives and the Christ of compassion who responds?

This is Good News that is offered to us. Let us welcome it.

Download PDF

Rev. Carla preaches on the wise and foolish bridesmaids.

Matthew 22.15-22
The Rev. Hal Chorpenning,
Plymouth Congregational UCC
Fort Collins, Colorado

All literature, sacred or not, is created within the context of culture and history. Some types of writing — like wisdom literature — endure, while other types fade with time. The setting for this morning’s text is, of course first-century Judea, a region under Roman occupation for a little less than a century, and it would be another 30 years or so until the Jews rose in revolt and about 35 years until the Romans would defeat the Jews and demolish the Second Temple. The people Jesus is speaking to are living under the boot of the Roman Empire. Think of occupied France during World War II and you’ll get the picture: people living under military occupation, religious oppression, economic oppression, and a growing hatred of the occupier. 

Both Jesus and his inquisitive friends, the Pharisees, were anti-Roman, but the Pharisees had a leg up as members of the religious establishment. So, when they send their students, their disciples, over to Jesus to pose a question, they are trying to get Jesus into a double-bind, either by admitting that it was legitimate to pay the occupiers or whether a tax revolt was more appropriate. 

Of course, Jesus doesn’t play into their hands, he does some rhetorical jujitsu, asking them to pull out a denarius. It’s the type of Roman coin that would have been in circulation when Jesus told the Pharisee, “Show me the coin used for the tax.” And when Jesus says, “Whose head is this and whose title,” I always just assumed, it’s a picture of Caesar and it says that he is the emperor…but there is more to the story. 

After doing a Google search for an image of an early first-century denarius, I found the two sides of the coin you see on your screen. On one side you see a profile of the emperor Tiberius (who was the emperor at the time Jesus told this story) and o;/the reverse side there is a seated image of Livia, the mother of Tiberius. So those are the people pictured, but Jesus also asks “whose title?” Well, I expected it to say that Tiberius was the emperor. But that’s not exactly what it says. Around the edge of the “heads” side of the coin, starting under Tiberius’s chin and reading counter-clockwise, it says, “TI” for Tiberius, “CAESAR” (which you can translate yourself!) “DIVI AUG F,” which in abbreviated form means “son the God Augustus,” and also inscribed is Tiberius’s own title “AUGUSTUS” which is a politico-religious term that means “venerable, worthy of worship.” And on the “tails” side of the coin you can read Tiberius’s other title, “PONTIFEX MAXIMUS” or highest priest. So, the titles aren’t just political, but go to the heart of Roman imperial cultic religion. 

A good, pious Roman would think that paying taxes to Caesar WAS giving to God, or in Tiberius’s case, the son of a god. But, of course, every Jew in the ancient world, including Jesus himself, knew that Augustus was not divine. That’s what the Pharisees are getting at…but Jesus turns their question on its head, challenging the hearer to question and distinguish what belongs to God and what belongs to Caesar. 

They are vying for the hearts and minds of the people: Caesar on one hand and God on the other…the Roman Empire on one side, the kingdom of God on the other. And when you live in a tiny country under occupation by Roman legionaries, it may be easier to see the force of empire than to see the immediate reality of God. 

When new members joined our congregation earlier in the summer, they offered the same words of covenant that all who join this congregation say. And perhaps we don’t think of those phrases as being countercultural, but they are. When we say, “I give myself unreservedly to God’s service,” we are pledging our lives and our allegiance not to Caesar, but to God. 

For me, that means that our primary loyalty is to the kingdom of God, rather than the empire of Caesar – or whatever petty empire has taken Rome’s place at the center of our lives. In our covenant, we are making a statement not simply about whom we will serve, but about the way we orient and prioritize our lives. So, what does that mean to you? What does it mean to YOU to give yourself without reservation to God’s service? 

We all know people who serve other gods, in fact, each of us serves them on occasion, and more than occasionally if we aren’t vigilant. We serve these other gods when our primary attention and focus is on something else. Some serve the god of personal comfort, while others serve the god of the stock market, others serve the god of white supremacy, and still others the god of power and influence. Like the old Bob Dylan song says, “You’re gonna have to serve somebody…well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord, but your gonna have to serve somebody.” And as Jesus says in the sixth chapter of Matthew’s gospel, “No one can serve two masters…You cannot serve both God and Mammon [sometimes personified as the demon of wealth].” And the point Jesus is making with the denarius is that you cannot serve both God and Caesar.

What does Jesus mean to imply when he says, “Give to God what is God’s?” Jesus undoubtedly knew Psalm 24 by heart, and I intentionally included it as our Call to Worship this morning. “The earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it.” So that little denarius, even with the picture of the emperor stamped into it, belongs to God. 

Some of what belongs to God is entrusted to you for your good use. I see what some of you do with the gifts and graces and dollars God has put in your hands. I see the work you do with Habitat, with La Foret and the wider UCC. This week, I see Plymouth folks and other ecumenical partners using our North Wing to collect clothing and supplies for immigrant children who arrived in this country as unaccompanied minors, and I’ve seen you outside (and inside!) our senator’s office calling for an end to gun violence. And I see what you do to keep this church not just plugging along, but vital. I see our Council working hard to make tough decisions and guide us toward a future that will be different after the pandemic is through. I see our deacons and my staff colleagues finding creative ways to reach out to you during this tumultuous time. And it requires you taking part of what God has entrusted to you and investing it in the mission and ministry of your church. And if you ever get confused about who we are meant to serve, just pull a quarter our of your pocket to read the reminder under George Washington’s chin: In God We Trust.

May it be so. Amen.

© 2020 Hal Chorpenning, all rights reserved. Please contact hal@plymouthucc.org for permission to reprint, which will typically be granted for non-profit uses.

Matthew 22.23-32
The Rev. Hal Chorpenning,
Plymouth Congregational UCC
Fort Collins, Colorado

If you have two sons, like I do, this parable sounds strikingly familiar. In years past, I could imagine Cameron playing video games on his X-Box on a Saturday morning and me asking if he would please mow the lawn and Cam begging off with some excuse about homework. And then asking Chris, who would say, “Sure, dad,” but then he’d get involved in something else and forget about the task at hand. (Mind you, I’m just plugging their names in here…they’d always have jumped right up and mowed the lawn. ? ) I might have been disappointed in Cam’s first response, but not that he came through in the end. And Chris just flaked out on me. Which son would I have thanked heartily for “doing the will of their father?”

But the parable is even more pointed than that. By bringing tax collectors and prostitutes into the narrative — outsiders and lowlifes rejected by the good Temple-going people of Jerusalem — Jesus brings the generalized parable into his own present day. It isn’t they who are supposed to “get it,” to understand what John was and Jesus is talking about…but they do. There is a motif in the New Testament about the people who should understand, don’t and the people who would ordinarily not be “in the know” are the ones who get it. I mean we all know that there is no such thing as a “Good” Samaritan, or astrologers from Persia who understand that a newborn babe is king of the Jews.
Well, where does that leave us? You and I may look a lot more like the scribes and the Pharisees than we’d like, don’t we? We’re the ones who are supposed to understand the message of Jesus, but don’t you suspect that there are times when we are the ones who don’t have a clue? I know that most of us at Plymouth don’t fit the current stereotype of American Christianity: closed-minded, unthinking, anti-science, bigoted, and knowing that if we are “saved,” then you other people certainly aren’t. And yet… And yet…there are times when we can come off as the ones who are meant to understand Jesus…but can’t or won’t. 

For most of us, it isn’t a matter of intellectual firepower that holds us back, rather it concerns commitment and showing up. This is where trust comes into play: “John the Baptizer came to you on the path of righteousness, but you didn’t trust him, but the tax collectors and prostitutes did.” Trusting Jesus is primarily an activity of the human heart, rather than just the mind. Tying our active minds together with the feelings of our hearts, connecting the two, is a key task for many of us in the UCC, where we encourage you to “bring your brain to church on Sunday.” Well, I certainly hope you bring your heart, too. 

This parable is about trusting and then doing. It’s about being truly present in the service of God’s realm on earth. It’s about showing up when you get the invitation. (And if you’re listening to this right now, consider yourself invited!)

Years ago, when I was a young adult, my former in-laws were being invited to dozens of weddings as people my age were getting married, and they frankly found it a bit tiresome…RSVPing, blocking off a weekend, buying a gift, going to the service and reception. And one time, they simply responded that they were not able to come. A few months later, the groom, Paul Blandford, ran into my former father-in-law, who is a really good guy, and said how disappointed he was that he and his wife couldn’t make it to the wedding. And then it hit my former father-in-law like a ton of bricks: When you are invited to a wedding or hear of someone’s funeral or memorial service, you go and show up. The code word in their family for times you need to show up became “It’s a Paul Blandford.” Have you ever declined an invitation to show up…to wedding, to an event, as a volunteer, as a leader? It may be easier at times to say, “No, thanks,” but it doesn’t move us ahead as a body of people, whether it’s a family, a congregation, a community, or a nation.

How do you show up…when you cannot physically show up? Covid-19 has been disruptive in so many ways, and we get to choose whether to connect or to hide…and there is a time for each. But let’s focus on connection. I’m doing a memorial service this afternoon, and only the immediate family are attending because of the pandemic. That’s a way to be present at a tender moment is each other’s lives, albeit in a different way. And there are other ways on a personal level to show up: pick up the telephone and call someone, pull out the notecards you got for Christmas and put pen to paper and send a note, really listen deeply to a friend or loved one. I see people at Plymouth showing up in all kinds of ways in the midst of the pandemic. Members shopping for those who are especially vulnerable to the coronavirus, Our Habitat ministry team invited me to a virtual Habitat breakfast over Zoom in a few weeks. You, our congregation sent a special gift of $10,000 to La Foret to help provide pandemic relief, in addition to the $20,000 you all contributed individually  for other forms of pandemic relief. Our Immigration ministry team has been at work collecting cleaning and household supplies for immigrant families. Our Stewardship Board got a beautiful brochure written, designed, produced, and mailed in record time. Thanks for saying “yes” and showing up.

Sometimes this pandemic causes us (especially us introverts) to withdraw in pain or grief or anxiety, and we don’t want to connect through one more damned Zoom meeting. And I cannot imagine how incredibly busy and stressed so many of our parents are trying to manage kids doing remote learning, working from home themselves, and trying to have a life. (And I do see a parent, who teaches chemistry at CSU now online, serves as this congregation’s moderator showing up to play violin this morning.)

So, this is a gentle reminder that oftentimes, we feel better when we show up, when we connect, when we make the effort, we feel better for having done so. And when we show up, we need to be fully present, not just physically present. We must bring our souls as well as our bodies. Showing up as faith in action is even more important, because we’ll probably end up feeling more connected to God as well. 

Woody Allen supposedly said that 90 percent of life is showing up. And I think there is truth in that, no matter who actually said it. Consider this: if you THINK about going to the gym, but don’t show up, you won’t get in better shape. If you only THINK about your faith, but never offer a prayer, pick up a Bible, do an act of compassion for someone you don’t know, your faith might stay flabby, too. When we show up, we don’t just do it for ourselves, we show up for each other, and during a pandemic, it’s even harder, less convenient, more costly, but we can’t go it alone.

I invite you to be like the son who eventually unplugs from the X-box and mows the lawn. Follow the lead of the tax collectors and prostitutes who trust the way of God’s kingdom, here and now and still unfolding. And as our worship continues and in the week ahead, may you open your heart and your mind to the God who created you, invites you, blesses you, and redeems you.

Amen.

© 2020 Hal Chorpenning, all rights reserved. Please contact hal@plymouthucc.org for permission to reprint, which will typically be granted for non-profit uses.

The Rev. Dr. Mark Lee
For Plymouth Congregational UCC
Pentecost 1A (lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/texts.php?id=142)

The one constant in life is change.  One of the constant changes we live is that of saying “Good-bye.”  Sometimes it is but for a while. Sometimes it is for good. The good-bye I am leaving you with is somewhere in between, for while I am leaving my professional role with this church and going to serve elsewhere on a 2-year contract, Ivan will keep our ranch here and I’ll come back to visit him regularly.  After 2 years, only God knows where I’ll be called next. Change, even good change, is often felt as loss, and as I say vaya con Dios it is with a mix of sorrow and hope.

Today’s texts carry that mix.  Paul is signing off his last letter to Corinth, a place he might or might not get back to.  And Jesus is trying to boil down years of teaching:  A Great Commission that refers to his Great Commandment.  Make disciples of every kind of people by teaching them to love one another.

Now when Matthew was writing this, it was a victory lap of sorts.  His audience read this about 50 years after the fact, and knew how this Commission was well on its way to being fulfilled.  A mix of persecution, catastrophic war, and missionary zeal had spread Christian communities through the core parts of the Roman Empire.  Christianity was in Rome, the center of the empire, even before Paul writes his letter to the church there around AD 50.  Even as all roads led to Rome, so also did all radiate from there.  The merchant and military classes were particularly mobile in the ancient world, believers among them.  Outside the empire, tradition credits the Ethiopian eunuch of Acts 9 with taking the gospel into Africa, and the apostle Thomas with founding the church in India that carries his name to this day.  

Sharing the the Good News is in Christianity’s DNA.   The Bible reminds us “Whenever anyone asks you to speak of your hope, be ready to defend it.  Yet do this with respectful humility.” [1 Peter 4:15-16]  Sometimes we have not done it well, but at its best it is “one beggar telling another where to find bread.”  I well remember being enthralled in college by stories from visiting missionaries, and we would make zealous commitments “To go wherever Christ calls us to go.”  (All the while hoping that it wasn’t really the ends of the earth, we wanted electricity and running water!)  

I was led into parish ministry.  There were obstacles, I got tossed out of my first seminary for being gay.  But I then met gay Christians who loved and nurtured and healed me, and later found Iliff in Denver that supported my reality and my call.  After working in administration for Unitarian and Episcopal churches, I pastored for 15 years in the Metropolitan Community Church, founding congregations in Ft Collins and Cheyenne. 

I learned that following God’s call isn’t an exercise in tea-leaf readings, casting fleeces, or trying to see behind the clouds. I don’t think God’s will is this pinpoint thing that God coyly hides from us and if we can’t figure it out our life is ruined. Rather it was listening to my heart, the advice of people I trust, and prayer to nurture the wide context of my faith. Trying some things and failing or succeeding.  God treats us as adults, asks us to use our mind, heart and community to weigh options, giving us choices between good things.  For myself, I found that those times I forced myself into something with sharp elbows and big ego did not usually turn out well.  Instead I learned that finding God’s will is usually unassuming and straightforward.  

My call to Plymouth is a perfect example:  after Julie left as Director of Christian Ed to pursue her PhD, I was chatting one day in Hal’s office.  I’d been on the Adult Ed Committee and then chair for a couple years.  I’d been retired on disability due to my health for a while, and that grated on me terribly; I missed active ministry.  I’d been exploring the UCC, taken history and polity courses, and was considering transferring my ordination.  So Hal asks me, “How would you like to lead an adult education program like Plymouth’s?”  Knowing that Plymouth had a policy against hiring members, I had not considered applying for Julie’s job.  So I’m wondering, “Where around here has an education program like Plymouth’s?” … “Is there was a good program at like Windsor or Loveland or Greeley?”  “No,” Hal said, “I mean here,” and after I got over my surprise, this new call was off and running.

This has been such a wonderful ministry you have let me do.  It has been so satisfying to teach, mange, learn and explore with you.  No, we did not figure out the Trinity.  We did not solve homelessness.  We don’t understand the Bible, or Jesus or God.  We have yet to build the world of peace and justice and welcome and inclusion and care and love that we know God keeps leading us towards.  But we have worked together towards all these things.  

I can’t take credit for it all.  I built on a long-standing program built by Alice Clark, Julie Mavity-Maddalena and many adult education committees.  More deeply, the roots of the program come from this church’s conviction that Christian Formation goes through our entire lives.  It isn’t like you go through Sunday school and get confirmed, get a diploma and are done.  You’re barely beginning!  This church knows that whether a person is 9 or 90 that there is yet more.  

Sometimes it is head-learning, a core of information about what it is to be Christian, good info about the Bible and history and tradition.  There are skills to be learned to weigh truth claims, consider evidence, and how to read our sacred texts in context.  All that information helps shape beliefs, but we have come to understand that beliefs are only tools.  Sometimes we build on them, sometimes we change them, some we even have to unlearn (God as old white man or Bible as science book, anyone?)  We realize that there is much more to following Christ than beliefs about him.  Beliefs are important, but they are not the goal.

It also takes heart-learning.  This is a lifelong quest for me, to bridge head and heart, and you have played an important role in helping me with that.  So we let ourselves (oh my, the terrible word my therapist keeps taunting me with) – FEEL.  We learn how the Spirit molds our heart, how healthy Christian community keeps us grounded, we dare to let ourselves grieve and enjoy and fear and thrill and love.  A lot of this is caught rather than taught, but we create good places for it to be caught – frank discussions, walking labyrinths together, doing lectio divina in small groups, listening so that we “bear one another’s burdens.”  “How is it with your soul” is a question we should ask each other more often.

All this would be incomplete however if it just left us with heads crammed full of theology and Bible, and hearts all warm with fellowship and the Spirit if it did not get our hands and feet dirty. Some of the best times have been when we have done an educational series on a topic and then it was manifest in the outer world as action.  Social action has to be grounded in clear, fact-driven analysis of a situation.  And social action has to be sustained by a core of spiritual heart and practice “to keep on keeping on.”  You don’t hear the Black Lives Matter protesters singing Justin Bieber.  They sing spirituals.  Sweet Honey in the Rock’s Ella’s Song, gives us a window into what is sustainable Christian Formation in our time:

“We who believe in freedom cannot rest
We who believe in freedom cannot rest until it comes

“Until the killing of black men, black mothers' sons
Is as important as the killing of white men, white mothers' sons

“That which touches me most
Is that I had a chance to work with people
Passing on to others that which was passed on to me.”1

“A chance to work with people, passing on to others that which has been passed on to me.”  There are so many:  you who have taught, you who have led discussions, forum moderators, you who tirelessly chased down political candidates for forums, you who reviewed books that you suggested for classes, you who have set up chairs or handled AV, so many of you who have been parts of boards, ministry teams, committees and projects,  the scores of people who make the Visiting Scholar program so great (and btw, we have Eric Elnes on tap for November for an online program). Thank you.  

So many of you enjoyed my classes and gave me encouragement – and some of you endured my less than stellar projects and gave me loving feedback (anyone remember Kathleen Ray’s ransom atonement book, “Deceiving the Devil”?).  I love to teach, you taught me how to do it better, and having eager learners makes it a joy.  Thank you.

And for the love and care and guidance you gave me quite outside my professional role, encouraging my continuing education; supporting my pilgrimages; praying me safely home from Jordan; being patient when my health challenges flared up.  Thank you. You have made me welcome in your homes, on retreat at LaForet, over a hundred cups of coffee -- you have let me into your lives and hearts.  Thank you.

Now God is leading me to a new ministry – as an interim pastor for a medium sized church a half days’ drive away (I can tell you where in another week or so). I am about equal parts excited and terrified.  It will take everything I’ve learned in 30 years of ordained ministry – and all you have poured into my mind and heart these past years will so help that church.

So let me end by remembering todays epistle reading:

“Finally, brothers and sisters, farewell. Put things in order, listen to my appeal, agree with one another, live in peace; and the God of love and peace will be with you.  Greet one another with a holy kiss.” (Maybe now that is a virtual kiss!)  
“The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.”  [2 Cor. 13:11-13]

Or as I like to say:  God loves you today too.  Go live accordingly!

1 https://genius.com/Sweet-honey-in-the-rock-ellas-song-lyrics 
from the album “We Are All… Every One of Us” (© 1983).
Listen to it here:
  https://www.song-list.net/videos/sweethoneyintherock/ellassong 


 
Service prayers:

Communion prayer:
    Remembrance, Invitation & direction
    Great Thanksgiving & Epiclesis

We give you thanks, O Great and Loving Creator,
For creating a beautiful yet complicated world,
And placing us in it as stewards and participants.
We are glad that you sent Jesus to show us who you are
And how human life can fulfill your quest for justice and peace.
We thank you for gathering us as your church
Bound together always by the Holy Spirit
And connected today by the ingenuity of human technology.
Now Holy God, spread your Spirit upon these gifts of food and drink
Wherever we may be
that they might be for us the presence of the living Christ,
Making us one across time and space.
Spread your Spirit upon us,
so that like these communion elements
We too might be taken, blessed, broken and shared,
so that others might know the blessings
of living in communion with you and one another. 
Through Christ, with Christ and in Christ, in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
all glory and honor are yours Almighty God, now and forever. 

    Words of Institution
    Welcome to the table
    Serving

Pastoral prayer:

God who hears the cry of the poor and oppressed:
You have always been with us -- 
When we were slaves in Egypt,
When in exile in Babylon,
When under the power of empires, despots and tyrants,
When divided into factions and set against each other,
You are a God who rescues.
You came to us in Jesus, who blessed the poor and powerless
Walked the way of the Cross – and invites us to join him.

So we lift our hearts to you in these troubled times:
You know the violence that has oppressed our African American neighbors
For hundreds of years.  
Violence that changed legal forms
But still kept them scared and poor and hurt and killed.
Now we have seen with our own eyes
How agents of government casually kill them
And then provoke violence and harshly suppress peaceful protest.
We’ve always known these things, but the scales have fallen from our eyes.
We have seen how police supported by our own taxes
Managed by officials we elect
And armed with surplus from our bloated military
Walk the way of empire,
Sometimes benefiting us, and sometimes hurting us,
But consistently keeping black people, brown people, queer people, female people, poor people many other people disadvantaged, silenced and disposable.  

We feel sad.  We feel angry. We feel confused.  We feel guilty.  We feel powerless. But we are committed to follow You.

O, that you would tear wide the heavens and come down!  Give ear to the chants of your people!  Let the outcry come before you!
Save the unjustly imprisoned!  Heal the injured!  Cast down the mighty from their thrones, and lift up the lowly!  Fill the hungry with good things, and make the rich share their hoardings!

Give us eyes to see the truth of our society, and the hearts to bear that truth.  Keep those who march safe, and keep us safe when we join them.  Give us the sense to listen most to those who suffer the most, and then follow with our voices, wallets and votes.  Give us Christ-like courage to use our privilege to dismantle the systems that oppress the many to the benefit of the few, even when we are among the few.  

Let us work for your kin-dom, as we pray week after week lifting the prayer Jesus taught us:

Our Father who art in heaven……


Benediction:

God loves you this week too, so go live accordingly.  

So go into all the world:
In the love of God who created you,
The peace of Christ who redeemed you,
And the power of the Holy Spirit
    Who will sustain you 
        Through everything.  Amen.

Matthew 25.14–30
The Rev. Hal Chorpenning
Plymouth Congregational UCC Fort Collins, Colorado
19 November 2017
 
A man goes on a long journey, leaving behind him a cadre of folks he hoped would invest his assets wisely. Do you know what it’s like to come home from a three-month sabbatical and find this text waiting for you?!

Actually, it’s perfect! In their wisdom, the folks who created the lectionary plop this text into the season of harvest here in the northern hemisphere, which in many congregations coincides happily with stewardship season. And so when you hear someone pick this text apart, you can usually be fairly certain that they are going to “go financial on you”… that somehow the return on investment from these silver talents will be reflected in the church budget. Well, I’m not going there today. (That said, if you pledge for 2018 isn’t in yet, I know that you can lower the blood pressure of fellow members on the Budget & Finance Committee by pledging today!)

You know, I don’t think that Jesus’ hearers would typically be the kind of folk who would be in the position of financial managers who are entrusted by a master to expand his wealth. So, if it isn’t about money and a solid return on investment, what it is about? I wonder if it is something far more valuable, far more elemental than silver. I am going to hazard a guess that this parable of Jesus is about us.

I know you’ve heard a few parables this fall, and it is important to remember the function of a parable, which is to make us stop and think differently about a situation, to puzzle with it, to wrestle with it, to go deeper.

What if the wealth that is invested with us is not our money, but ourselves…our deepest selves…the very life that has been given and entrusted to us by God? Stop for just a minute and think about that: each one of us, the old and young, the foolish and wise, the rich and poor…all of us have been given one life to live out fully. As Jesus says, “I came that you may have life, and have it in abundance.”[John 10:10] That’s the greatest gift for each of us: abundant living. Whether our lives are long or short they can be lived in abundance in each moment.

So if you use that framework, think for a moment about the master going on a long journey and entrusting you with your life. Our cultural framework is based on radical individualism and the notion that “it’s my life to live however I want.” And I might quibble with the theology behind that. What if we saw our lives as a gift from God entrusted to us, not simply for our own satisfaction and enjoyment, but also an investment in God’s kingdom? We only get one life, so we need to make it count.

Each of us has gifts within us; some of them are obvious and some of them are quite well hidden. And sometimes we aren’t even aware of them, because we have quashed our talents and not given ourselves permission to live our lives in full abundance.

I was reading a book last week by Elizabeth Gilbert, about unleashing creativity, called The Big Magic, and it had all kinds of resonances with this parable: “Do you have the courage to bring forth the treasures that are hidden within you?” she asks. “Look, I don’t know what’s hidden within you. I have no way of knowing such a thing. You yourself may barely know, although I suspect you’ve caught glimpses. I don’t know your capacities, your aspirations, your longings, your secret talents. But surely something wonderful is sheltered inside you. I say this with all confidence, because I happen to believe we are all walking repositories of buried treasure. I believe this is one of the oldest and most generous tricks the universe [aka God] plays on us human beings, both for its own amusement and for ours; The universe buries strange jewels deep within us all, and then stands back to see if we can find them.”1

I’m going to invite you to pull out your bulletin or a piece of paper and jot down some of your own thoughts about your deepest longings and your gifts. What are some of those jewels that are still buried deep within you? What are some of the yet-unlived dreams, the yet-undeveloped talents, the yet-unwritten stories that are waiting within you to be mined? Make a note or two for yourself. Bring that into your prayers this week and see how you might go on a treasure hunt that will yield jewels not just for you, but for God and God’s realm.

Irenaeus of Lyon, a second-century bishop wrote that “the glory of God is a human being fully alive.” Have you experienced being with someone who is fully alive? Who has grasped living life with abundance? Who is uncovering and mining the jewels, the gifts, within themselves and sharing that giftedness with the world? We talk about people as being charismatic, and that literally means those who possess a gift. But it’s more than having a nice smile and an engaging personality: it’s being authentically who God created us to be and using our God-given talents.

So, if we all have gifts, why aren’t we using them? What are the obstacles that are getting in the way of us becoming “human beings fully alive?”

Let’s go back to the parable for a moment. Two of the three slaves understand that their master wanted them to unpack their gifts and increase what he had entrusted two them. They don’t spend any time making excuses…they just report how they doubled what had been entrusted to them. The third slave, who buried his treasure and kept it hidden, said, “Master, I knew you were a harsh man” as he tries to explain why he had not increased what he had been given. What kept the last slave from expanding what was entrusted to him was fear.

How many lives could be infinitely more rich if we could help one another move beyond our fear? I’m not talking about sensible fear of things like rattlesnakes and bungie jumping. I’m talking about the chorus of little negative voices within us that beat the constant refrain: “You’re not good enough.” “You’re not old enough.” “You’re not young enough.” “You’re not smart enough.” “You’re not faithful enough.” “You’re not beautiful enough.” “You don’t have time.”

All of us have at times sense those negative voices and the kind of fear that paralyzes us from becoming fully alive and uncovering the talents that lay buried deep within us. And it’s time to acknowledge that we have those fears and say “enough” and put them on the sidelines.

What we need to overcome those fear-laden voices is courage. You may never have thought about yourself as courageous or brave…because you experience fear. But without fear, there is no opportunity to live into courage. Courage is all about doing something scary, stepping out into the risk-zone.

I know that churches in general hate taking risks. But if you look at what we have done at Plymouth, you’ll see the high points of our history all involve risk-taking: starting an immigrant church, moving from Old Town to Prospect Road, calling LGBT clergy in the 1990s, voting to become Open and Affirming, expanding and improving our building, standing up for undocumented immigrants.

Courage is about acknowledging the fear and then moving forward with faith. Sometimes we forget that we are not doing this alone and that God has our back.

I also want to challenge you all to look within yourselves and see if some of your giftedness is in helping this particular outpost of the kingdom of God reach its mission by saying yes to serving as a lay leader, as a member of one of our boards or the leadership council. It takes courage to lead, and we want to help develop new leaders within this congregation, so if you have an inkling and want to talk more, I’m available!

When I was in St. Gallen, Switzerland, in September, I stayed in an AirBnb with four young guys, and they invited me to have dinner with their friends, and they asked what our congregation was like, and when I told them about being ONA, doing work around immigration reform, and homelessness prevention, they said, “Oh, our government does all that for us.” Well, our government isn’t doing that, so we need to step up with courage.

Incredibly gifted people comprise Plymouth…together, we have the capacity to expand the talents that have been entrusted to us. We need each one of our members to look within themselves prayerfully and ask what talents they have to contribute to God’s realm. We need to step up with courage, with conviction, and with faith to do become the fully-alive congregation that God intends us to be.

I close today with the words of Marianne Williamson, which you may have heard Nelson Mandela offer at his inauguration:
​
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, ‘Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?’ Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”2

May it be so. Amen.

1 Elizabeth Gilbert, Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear. (NY: Riverhead, 2016), p. 8.
2 Marianne Williamson, A Return to Love. (SF: HarperOne, 1996).
 
© 2017 Hal Chorpenning, all rights reserved. Please contact hal@plymouthucc.org for permission to reprint, which will typically be granted for non-profit uses.

Jane Anne preaches on Matthew 25:1-13 and the Wisdom of Solomon 6:17-20.

Reformation Sunday
October 29, 2017
Rev. Dr. Ron Patterson
Matthew 22:34-46
 
Let me begin with a true story. Several years ago I arrived late to the annual Christmas Bazaar at my church in Naples, Florida. Most years, as the Senior Minister, I was there at the opening of the Bazaar and would spend the entire day wandering the various rooms welcoming our guests and encouraging our volunteers. In that congregation the Christmas Bazaar was a big deal because the proceeds benefited the homeless and the hungry and our neighbors. Their goal was to raise over $30,000 and with creative crafts, baked goods, art, food and a lot more, they usually managed that much or more.
​
Well that year, I arrived about an hour before closing time because of an out of town meeting.     I managed to greet and thank most of the volunteers before ending up in the hall where a few of the men in the congregation set up their Trash and Treasure booth. When I walked in, the men who had spent the day on their feet were sitting in the corner of a room with mostly empty tables of the picked over remnants of mainly trash with few noticeable treasures on offer, but I browsed anyway. On one table I noticed a few pair of old binoculars, one clearly broken and another in a worn leather case. I opened the case and took out a small but surprisingly heavy pair of binoculars. I looked at the label and noted that they were Leitz binoculars made in Germany. I called back to the men and wondered if they minded if I took the binoculars outside for a look. They didn’t care so I did, and as I focused them on a palm tree across the parking lot, I squealed with delight. I took them back inside and asked how much they were. Without leaving his seat, the man in charge said: “Five bucks,” and went back to his conversation.

I took my new birding glasses home that night and discovered that the same binoculars list on EBay for over a thousand dollars and are described as ‘probably the finest small binoculars ever made.” I treasure them and use them all the time. These are my $5 miracle binoculars. (Hold them up)

Now, I tell that story today, because I think it’s a parable about my personal faith and our faith tradition. Today we commemorate the 500th anniversary of the beginning of one part of the Protestant Reformation. We remember that in Wittenberg, Germany, in 1517, an obscure monk nailed 95 debating points to a church door. It was an invitation to a theological conversation from the learned to the learned. It was written in Latin. Most of the 95 thesis would mystify and confuse us today because they mainly concern who forgives whom for what, when, and how. But Luther opened a door and surprised himself by starting a revolution. When translated and multiplied by the new at the time printing press, his ideas mushroomed and upset the careful religious consensus that had dominated Western Europe for 500 years. His words helped people see a new relationship with God.

Like my wonderful German binoculars discovered in the trash, binoculars that help me see the wonder around, Luther found treasure in what was old and tired in the medieval world view and began a Reformation of faith and practice that has defined and shaped everything that has happened to Christianity in the last five hundred years. Within his lifetime, other Reformers like Ulrich Zwingli and John Calvin and dozens more, redefined the Christian faith in ways that still touch our lives today. Let me add a footnote here: The United Church of Christ is I believe, the single Protestant denomination that carries in its DNA all of the major strands of the Protestant Reformation, we are a bit Lutheran, we are a bit Calvinist, we are a little Zwinglian as well. We carry a strain of the English Reformation in our history and we are also a little bit Anabaptist in our Christian Church heritage. I tell you that as an invitation to learn more of this interesting history in your own reading, but this is a sermon and not a lecture, so I have some other ideas to share.

Back to the binoculars! They are old, they were rescued from the trash, but they are only worth what they permit me to see and understand about my world and my life journey now and in the future. So here goes.

One of the ideas born in the Protestant reformation, an idea that our UCC tradition holds close and cherishes, is the idea that part of being a reformed Christian is to be continually reforming. That’s where all that UCC talk about “God is still speaking” and “there is yet more light and truth to break forth from God’s holy word’ comes from. (Pilgrim Pastor, John Robinson) We cherish the Bible and lots of traditional ideas, but for us, the Bible is a guide and not a dictator and tradition is a touch point, not a tether.

A few years ago, a writer named Phyllis Tickle suggested the notion that every five hundred years or so, Christians need to hold a great garage sale and dump their worn out theological trash and embrace new ways of thinking about the treasure God gives in an attempt to see and experience what new things the Holy Spirit is doing in the world.

And I love that idea because I know that God is a moving target calling us into the future. And while some people questioned Tickle’s theory of how history operates, I want to take her basic idea and offer a few suggestions for you to consider.

What should we keep and what should we dump? What religious ideas should we cherish and what should we abandon? Luther and the other reformers, especially Calvin talked about the sovereignty of God. I think that’s a keeper because it prevents the rest of us from confusing our thoughts and our opinions and time bound cultural notions that often appear as racism, sexism, classism, and a dozen other isms with God and the image of God we bear.

When a church tells people who to love or limits love with a litmus test that separates me from the rest of humanity by dogma or doctrine that mimics the prejudices of a particular leader; that’s surrendering the sovereignty of God to some inferior reality: preacher, priest or the bigot down the street.   That is thinking that belongs on history’s trash heap!

The reformers stressed the importance of faith over works. Luther’s life was transformed by the idea that you could not work your way into heaven, but that the promise of abundant life was a free gift of God’s love in Jesus Christ. That’s an idea worth living for because there is plenty of conditional love on offer in the religious world and when somebody talks about love with strings attached, that’s not love and that’s not what Jesus had to say. Unless grace is amazing, it’s not grace.

Look at what Jesus said and look at how he lived and get rid of the barnacles the church has encrusted itself with over the last twenty centuries to protect its authority, often male authority. Live like Jesus, love like Jesus and jettison the rest. Distill the essence of tradition into the essential oil of a lived faith. That essence is covered quite beautifully in our scripture lesson for today—love God, love your neighbor and respect yourself enough to keep learning and growing. Don’t trust me, trust a community praying and talking and caring for one another. Luther called it the ‘priesthood of all believers’ and that’s an idea worth living.

Five hundred years ago Protestants and Roman Catholics forced uniformity and conformity of thought in the territories they controlled. And in the process fought long wars and caused amazing suffering. Freedom of conscience was stifled by the fear of change. Fling out the fear and bring on the freedom.

I don’t think it matters how you worship or what type of music that you happen to like.    I’m a fan of simple but there’s nothing wrong with worship that isn’t simple, if it renews and nurtures our lives toward engagement on behalf of Jesus in a world that is hurting. Style is time bound, substance is timeless. Cherish the substance that empowers active love.

In my mind there is no such thing as an individual Christian. People who talk about having a personal relationship with Jesus Christ are too often the same people who look the other way when it comes to loving others without condition. The whole notion of getting saved as some sort of test of Christian credibility is an American invention. Being born again may be a way to get elected in this country, but being born again daily with a humility that trusts God in all things and struggles to be a bit more loving day by day is an idea worth keeping.

About a thousand years ago, St. Anselm of Canterbury, an Italian monk who later became the Archbishop of Canterbury put forth the doctrine of substitutionary atonement. This doctrine says in essence, that you and I crucified Christ by our willful sinfulness and that to satisfy an angry God for our sins, an innocent Jesus had to die as a substitute for the punishment we deserved.

And on that one doctrine, I think, rests all the gloom and doom and guilt that have enveloped most of the western Christian tradition for the past 1,000 years. It is this doctrine, sometimes wrapped in contemporary music or marketed in prosperity gospel pulpits, that lurks just below the surface in conservative churches all over.

You can hide it with seeker friendly music or upbeat preaching but it is still about guilt and shame and getting right with Jesus or God will get you! Now, you can force this idea out of the New Testament if you fish for it and many of us, first found one form of Jesus through guilt based preaching that scared us into a conversion experience—that happened to me, but I have changed my mind.

I have come to believe that fear killed Jesus, that hate killed Jesus, that small- mindedness and greed and political power trying to hold on to privilege, killed Jesus. An empire killed Jesus and empires of political and religious power when they work together still try to kill Jesus today.       Look at some of the so-called religious arguments that are made against health care or freedom of choice or human rights and look at how people of color and the poor and the oppressed are victimized.

But Jesus will not stay dead despite the effort of lots of Christians attempt to keep him dead and safe in the past like grandma’s old Bible sitting unread on the coffee table. Jesus is alive and there is this universal life force called love, as in “God is love”, that was in Jesus and is in you and me and in the essence of the universe beyond all that we can understand and know, that moves through us to bring change and hope and the promise of abundant life.
​
And when we sort that out and get thoughts like that going in our minds and souls, seeking in this faith family the presence of the God who’s still speaking, we will discover that like it or not, we become part of what the Holy Spirit is up to for the next 500 years.
Happy 500th Reformed and Reforming Anniversary! Amen.

Rev. Jane Anne Ferguson
Matthew 28:1-10
April 16, 2017 – Easter Sunday
Plymouth Congregational Church, UCC
 
Matthew 28
1 After the sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. 2 And suddenly there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord, descending from heaven, came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. 3 His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow. 4 For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men. 5 But the angel said to the women, "Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. 6 He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. 7 Then go quickly and tell his disciples, 'He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.' This is my message for you." 8 So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his disciples. 9 Suddenly Jesus met them and said, "Greetings!" And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him. 10 Then Jesus said to them, "Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me."  
 
When I hear the resurrection story from Matthew’s gospel I think I should be wearing a crash helmet and safety goggles. Of the four gospel resurrection accounts, Matthew’s version is the loudest, most bombastic and dangerous, with its earthquakes, lightning fast and dazzling white angel and guards quaking till they faint dead away. It explodes into our imaginations. Matthew narrates his version of the Jesus story with wondrous signs in amazing Technicolor, 3-D and Surround Sound because he wants us to grasp the cosmic implications of Jesus’s life, death and resurrection. A new star appears in the  heavens to  announce  his birth and mysterious Gentile visitors, wise wizards from the far east, come to pay this special baby homage. At the moment Jesus dies, Matthew tells us that not only is the curtain of the temple torn in two but the earth shakes, rocks are split in two, tombs are opened and saints of God spill out of them to go walking around Jerusalem even before Jesus’ resurrection! A Roman centurion, one of those least likely to heed the signs, cries out “Truly this man was God’s Son!” Matthew is making sure we get that Jesus brings God’s change for a world in desperate need of change! Change not just for the children of Israel, but for the entire world, the cosmos! Jesus is the Messiah fulfilling the ancient prophesies ushering in God’s Kingdom of love and justice for all people. All is changed irrevocably because Jesus ! All is made new! And we are left breathless with the very dramatic revelation of the good news! Christ is Risen! And you say....Christ is Risen Indeed! Amen!

While the special effects are magnificent and not to taken lightly, I have to admit that there are some subtler moments in Matthew’s story that shake me to the core. There are the moments in the opening lines when Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, possibly Jesus’ mom, get up in the dark before sunrise and quietly journey to the tomb looking for their beloved Jesus. They come to anoint his dead body in the proper ritual way. Imagine that journey....the foundation of their world has crumbled....the cornerstone of their lives has been pulled from its place and smashed. My guess is that they are too tired, too numb, too sad to even think about the future of this movement Jesus has started. Nothing matters anymore except to be with him one last time. I have been on such journeys of grief and I bet you have too.

The women reach the tomb just as the all heaven breaks loose with signs and wonders. Then there is the moment of silence after the flash of lightening, the crash of the rolling stone and the thump of the guards slumping to the ground  unconscious. I imagine that even the birds are startled into silence. Perhaps the women cough and sputter as the earthquake dust settles and clears, sparkling in the morning light but making no sound. It is utterly still except for the pounding of hearts pounding. And into the stillness, out of the darkness of the tomb, the angel says, “Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus....”

“Looking for Jesus...” In the midst of all the noise of proclamation the angel speaks the simple truth, “I know you are looking for Jesus...” The phrase haunts me. I have been looking for Jesus all of my life. What about you? In fact I would call my search a habit. Something I do repeatedly time and again, particularly at Easter. I can only think of one Easter in my life when I missed church. Even during the years when regular church-going was not my thing, I was in church on Easter looking for Jesus. We may love the Easter egg hunts and new clothes and big dinners with  family and friends, but the real habit of Easter is looking for Jesus. Matthew would tell us in all his signs and wonders that’s because we are looking for God and the life of God’s Kingdom, God’s realm. Isn’t that the place of our deepest curiosity....what is this mysterious thing called Life? Isn’t that why we return habitually to Easter year after year? Looking for new life....looking for Jesus?

The angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified.” Jesus, the man of Nazareth that they knew, crucified because he non-violently confronted the political and religious powers of his time with the love, compassion and distributive, restorative justice of God’s kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven. “I know you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified,” says the angel. Crucified because he never shied away from Life. Crucified because he lived and preached the wholeness of the Kingdom of God in the very midst of life...with family and strangers, eating and drinking, healing the sick and telling stories to enemies as well as friends, in the midst of controversy with the faith community he loved and conflict with the death-dealing empire of his day.

And the angel continues, “He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said.... indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.” He is not here in the halls of the dead, in the dark and moldering confines of a tomb. Jesus is alive and going ahead of you to Galilee, the place where you lived and traveled with him all those years. Galilee, where you live! Jesus is raised and going ahead of you back into life! Go to Galilee, where you live and there you will see him!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So we make it a habit each Easter to leave our everyday lives and come to church looking for Jesus. But the angel tells us....”He has risen! Go back to your lives...there you will find Jesus, the proclaimer of God’s realm on earth!” The interesting thing about the word “habit” is that it’s original meaning from the Latin was not repetitive action, but was “a place where one dwells, lives, inhabits.” Our habit must be to look for Jesus in all places we inhabit. He is there hiding in plain sight. In ALL that life brings us: family, friends, learning and work, times of challenge, times of celebration, journeys of grief. And in the confrontation with death-dealing empire power, for we, too, live in times when peace is sought by the world’s powers through warfare rather than the sharing of resources, when the fear of scarcity is used as an excuse to make the richer richer and the poor poorer, when human beings seek dominion over the gifts of creation rather than stewardship of creation’s gifts.

My friends, God’s resurrection of Jesus was and still is the resounding NO to empire’s attempt to control through death and scarcity, to create peace through violence. God’s resurrection of Jesus is the resounding YES to Life and to us as co- creators of God’s realm on earth. Jesus, the Crucified and Risen Christ, is with us in all the beauty and the mess: at the egg hunt and the family dinner; in caves obliterated by bombs and in the hospitals where people suffer needlessly from chemical warfare. Children, Jesus is on the playground with you at school. Grown-ups, Jesus is at work with you. Jesus is in the complicated corridors of our nation’s congress. Jesus walks with us here in Fort Collins in the conversation and the conflict of community building. Wherever life takes us the Risen One goes before leading the way because of the power of the living God. We are called to shout NO with God to death and YES with God in Christ to abundant life!
​
Now that is worth celebrating with a few special effects! Amen.
 
©Jane Anne Ferguson, 2017. May be reprinted with permission only.