Thanksgiving Reflection (2 Corinthians 9:15) Many families have a common Thanksgiving tradition, maybe you have done this as well: you go around the table and each person shares one thing they’re thankful for. Like you, families are thankful for spouses and kids, for new jobs and for health; we’re thankful for new babies celebrating their first Thanksgiving, and we’re thankful for another year with an aging family member; we’re thankful for a country with freedoms, and we’re thankful for a church that feels like family.
I think it’s a good tradition. Yet, there’s always one person who can’t take anything seriously (including this) and, yes, there’s always another person who takes everything way too seriously. Regardless of how you feel about this tradition, there is something powerful about group gratitude. Not only do we learn a little bit more about the people we’re related to by blood and marriage, but it also has the power to shift the dynamic in the room. Everyone stops. Everyone listens. Everyone shares in the thankfulness of the other. The Apostle Paul wrote this: “Thanks be to God for His indescribable gift!” (2 Corinthians 9:15). We have a lot to be thankful for this year, and it is good and right for us to thank God for spouses, kids, jobs, and health. But when Paul says, “We thank God for his indescribable gift!” he’s talking about something specific. Actually, Someone specific. He isn’t thanking God for things (though he could, as he did in other places in the New Testament); rather he is thanking God for Jesus. To say it another way, Paul is thanking God for God. The greatest gift God has ever given the world was His Son, Jesus Christ – who was (and is) God in the flesh. This is what Christmas is really about: the idea that God became a man (this is what theologians call “the incarnation”). As C.S. Lewis put it in Mere Christianity, “The Son of God became a man to enable men to become sons of God.” And although Paul knew nothing of our American holiday on the fourth Thursday of November, I think it’s right for us to talk about Christmas at Thanksgiving. Not because we are trying to rush past this holiday and get on to the next; but because our gratitude on this holiday is informed by the next one. This Thanksgiving, I encourage you to thank God for all the people and things you can think of. Be specific in your gratitude; articulate and enumerate all of the blessings in your life, because “Every good and perfect gift is from above” (James 1:17a). I also encourage you this Thanksgiving to thank God for God. Don’t just thank Him for what He’s given you; thank Him for who He is. The purpose of all these earthly blessings is not that we become infatuated with the gifts as ends in themselves, but rather to draw our eyes up to the Giver. He was the One who gave His Son so that you and I could be rescued from sin and restored to a reconciled relationship with Him. God did all of this to reach us. We have so much to be thankful for. A happy and blessed Thanksgiving to you and yours! Matthew 5:1-12
Sometimes theological statements in the Gospels look a little different in the three “synoptic” Gospels – Matthew, Mark, and Luke. Jesus’s teaching about the Kingdom is given through parables, prophecies and sayings which are different to help us better understand. “Synoptic,” by the way, comes from the Greek word “synopsis” (which we still use to mean “a plot summary”). It means “seeing something all together,” and we use it for these three Gospels which share many stories and have a similar organization. The blessings in Matthew 5 isn’t the only Gospel where they appear. The address of Jesus in Luke 6:17 and following is often called the “Sermon on the Plain” because Jesus is speaking to the crowd, especially His disciples, from a “level place.” Like many good preachers, Jesus seems to have reused His stories sometimes. Luke 6:20-26 resembles the beginning of the more famous Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5:3-12), with the notable addition of all those “woes,” of course. The Beatitudes (as this set of blessings has come to be known from their Latin translation) are, as people used to say, “downers.” They are not for those moments in life when we already feel “#blessed,” as the hashtag on Instagram has it. #blessed on Instagram is for the days when everything goes well, we get a new car or a promotion, or go on vacation in Rome. The Beatitudes are for those who are hungry, sad, persecuted, defamed, and poor. And they come with a deep promise that Christ will be faithful to us in those moments and that we stand in the same heritage as the prophets and martyrs. Instead, it is to those who are #blessed in the Instagram sense that Jesus’s prophesied woes come. If we are comfortable, happy, rich, and thought well of, maybe we should instead be using the hashtag #cursed. I need to say that this passage of Scripture has been abused to tell people that they can never enjoy anything about their life and they are only following God if they do painful and difficult things. We are sometimes called to the difficult and the dark, but we are also called to exercise the gifts God has given us and encouraged to joy and take delight in the Lord. But Jesus is still making a crucial point here. What makes us #blessed or #cursed is not money, fame, and a good reputation. How Jesus defined the words “blessed” and “cursed” run counter to how the world uses these words. The fact is, as Christians, we are all blessed: with the love of God the Father, with the salvation brought to us through the sacrifice of Jesus, with the power of the Holy Spirit, with the Body and Blood of Christ in the Eucharist. By all means, if you get the promotion, give thanks to the Lord. But if you don’t, give thanks to the Lord as well. Ask for wisdom, discernment, and strength, not more stuff. And don’t for a minute think that because you didn’t get something you wanted, you’re not blessed. Nothing could be further from the truth. What makes us #blessed is the presence of the Lord And in that, Jesus preaches in this sermon, we should rejoice. 1 Peter 2:9-10
Have you ever played with Legos before? Lego is the company that created building block sets allowing children and adults to build models of cars, buildings, artwork, and anything else a person can imagine. Each building set comes with individual block pieces of different sizes and shapes. Putting those different pieces together forms the overall final project. As a church, we are like a Lego model with each individual being put together by God to form the community of Christ. Working together and utilizing our particular gifts within the context of this community do we fulfill God’s design for us. In 1 Peter 2:9-10, we can see four aspects of how God has called us to be as His church. First, we are a chosen people. God has not just chosen us as individuals, but collectively as his body, we have been chosen. We have not been put here by accident but rather FECC has been chosen by God for His purposes in our communities. This gives us a greater meaning for our purpose here. Second, we are a royal priesthood. As priests, we have access to God and can approach Him in his throne room. We do not have to work through a mediator as the Israelites had to do in the Old Testament, but because of Jesus, we can now directly speak to God and hear from Him. Also, we approach God together as His church. We are formed by God in our gathering together. Third, we are a holy nation. Being holy means to be set apart. In our daily lives, we set aside nicer clothes for special occasions such as weddings. In the same way, we as a holy nation have been set aside by God for His special purposes. We have a unique calling as His church to be a blessing to our community. Lastly, we are God’s special possession. Together, God has special favor for us. We belong to God and are precious to Him. Not just as individuals but everyone in FECC who has been put here by God’s design. What God has built and continues to build is something he values greatly. What a precious invitation we have to participate in this community we call FECC! To see what God is building, we must make ourselves available to be plugged into His church as individual Lego pieces are plugged into the overall project. May we move from seeing ourselves only as individuals saved by God to a grander picture of God’s work in the community of faith and our participation and contribution to it! Please imagine, before your pastor begins the sermon, that the brothers and sisters stand together with reverence and humility in their hearts. Together, they proclaim these words of admonition from the Apostle Paul to the pastor:
"I charge you in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who is to judge the living and the dead, and by his appearing and his kingdom: preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching. For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths. As for you, always be sober-minded, endure suffering, do the work of an evangelist, fulfill your ministry." (2 Timothy 4:1-5) The pastor responds, "Amen." Afterward, the pastor boldly fulfills his prophetic duty by preaching the word of God. According to the truth of the Bible, and addressing the needs of the brothers and sisters, he confronts the currents of worldly temptation, pointing out the confusion and dangers they face. Day by day, can you imagine the impact such a Sunday pulpit will have? Brothers and sisters, what kind of message do you want to hear? How should the pastor preach? This is a spiritual matter, and only a spiritual approach can address it. Therefore, I implore you to continually pray for your pastor before God, asking the Lord to grant him diligence, growth in God's word, patience, and the strength to fulfill his ministry with depth, height, and warmth, shepherding the Lord's flock. Brothers and sisters, what kind of message do you want to hear? How should you listen to the message? This is a spiritual matter, and only a spiritual approach can address it. So, please, always pray earnestly for your own hearts, to receive sharp rebukes, timely warnings, and powerful encouragement. As long as these words are from God's true Word, do not take offense due to personal biases, do not view them as personal attacks driven by selfish desires, and do not turn to empty words. Just as good parents do not take joy in rebuking their children, pastors, too, experience sorrow when delivering stern words. This is often done out of necessity. But as the respected Dr. Timothy Lin once said, "We must speak on the foundation of people's consciences” because we all need to give an account before “Christ Jesus, who is to judge the living and the dead.” If our rebukes lack specificity, it's like running aimlessly or shadowboxing, and it's trivial. Rebuking someone out of personal resentment while avoiding direct confrontation but using public channels like social media, magazines, or the pulpit is fundamentally different, and it’s wrong. May the Lord grant us discerning hearts. We do not seek temporary comfort but pray for a clear conscience and unwavering faith to enter His righteous kingdom. We hope that the discomfort caused by stern words will lead to a repentance without regrets, resulting in salvation. Amen. Brothers and sisters, are you willing, through prayers, to respect your pastor's calling and allow him to boldly preach the hard truths? Brothers and sisters, are you willing, through prayers and humility, to prepare your hearts to let God's word prevail in your lives? Lord, pierce me with Your Word. Amen. Matthew 5:4
In the first Beatitude, Jesus resets our self-expectations as human beings. Jesus reminds us that we are made to be vulnerable with God and with others. There is an essential, even if unrecognized, poverty of spirit in each of us that reminds us of our need for the other. Most of us experience such relationships only occasionally. In our lives, openness, humility and trust are uncommon. And that brings us to Jesus’ second Beatitude. “Blessed are those who mourn.” The first Beatitude surprises us with our created condition and its resulting blessedness. The second Beatitude surprises us with the blessedness found in our brokenness as human beings. There’s little dispute that we live in a broken world. What is surprising is that Jesus promises blessedness in that reality. Jesus recaps the biblical story not by focusing on human culpability, but by reminding us that the Gospel is indeed Good News. Those who mourn the great loss of humanity’s original potential are promised comfort. As the great prophet Isaiah predicted, “How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion, ‘Your God reigns!’” (Isaiah 52:7, NIV) The kingdom of heaven (“Your God reigns!”) comforts us in our mourning because we are promised the restoration of three categories of losses. First, we are promised the restoration of our full humanity. When someone screws up, you’ve probably heard it said that they erred because “they are only human.” But the biblical narrative suggests just the opposite. We behave badly because we are not fully human. Our world and our history are filled with violent brutality, sexual exploitation, and oppression of the poor, all carried out by those of us who are human in name only. The memory of who we are created to be has seemingly been lost. Jesus has come to restore true humanity for us for us in the Sermon on the Mount. Given the vast distance between God’s original intention and our present reality, the second Beatitude is significant. Our first and natural response is to mourn. And rightly so. But Jesus tells us what we, like the returning prodigal son, can scarcely believe: that God our Father is waiting to welcome us with open arms, to comfort us with a compassionate and gracious embrace. And as that parable makes clear, we are not just welcomed and forgiven. Rather than being demoted to the role of a servant (as the prodigal at best expected at his return), we are restored to our place as a member of the family. Jesus’ teaching is inescapable. God wants nothing less than to restore each person to their full humanity. Second, we are promised the restoration of the world in which we live. It is one thing to restore each of us individually, it’s another to fix the mess we’ve made of our world. Today, more than ever before, we are confronted with the reality of the effects of humanity on the planet. Even on a less-than-planetary scale, we each inhabit polluted worlds of our own. Each of us has had injustices and injuries done by others to us, and if we are honest, by us to others. These injustices and injuries are passed on from generation to generation, and leave an indelible mark on the histories of our worlds. How will those things be made right? Not only do we need personal forgiveness and restoration, but our world(s) clearly needs to be put right. This too is part of the Good News that “Our God reigns!” God’s reign promises a restoration of what is wrong and a bringing to justice of those who do wrong. The promise of the Gospel is that there will come a day when everyone will be brought to account. Not only do we live in hope for that great day, but we live in light of that promise, by being people who comfort those who mourn, and who work in anticipation of that restoration each day, as far as we are able. Finally, we are promised the restoration of the vocation to which we are called as human beings. Not only will we and our world be restored, but our work as God’s image-bearers and stewards is surprisingly embodied in Jesus’ blessing of those who mourn. As followers of Jesus we are called to be lead servants. An essential element of that calling is that we willingly enter into the suffering of others. Jesus Himself demonstrated in His death that our identity as human beings is deeply intertwined with our capacity for self-sacrifice for the sake of others. Jesus’ blessing and comforting of those who mourn is not only an act of consolation for the oppressed, but also an act of encouragement to those who will follow His example to go and do likewise. “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted” is a reminder of the vocation of all who follow Jesus, who are called to enter into the suffering of others. John 15:4
Expectations. We all have them. Many of us live with high expectations; expectations define our world. For some, those expectations are a positive motivator. For others, they are a profound burden. Jesus too lived in a world of great expectations. His extraordinary birth raised great hopes as well as created profound fear. Was He the One who would, in the phrase of N. T. Wright, “set the world to rights?” And perhaps the unasked and even more weighty question behind that question is, “What will that world look like?” Jesus begins the Sermon on the Mount by resetting the expectations of His listeners. Perhaps a stronger and more accurate verb is “reverse.” Jesus reverses the expectations about what the world looks like when it is made right. What is striking is how backward it all seems. In the opening beatitude, Jesus blesses those who are poor in spirit. That’s not exactly a category for people to aspire to, either in the first century or in the twenty-first. In doing so, Jesus raises the disturbing possibility that our expectation ladders are leaned up against the wrong building. Or, consider the medical condition called anorexia. Anorexia is “an eating disorder characterized by an abnormally low body weight, an intense fear of gaining weight, and a distorted perception of weight” (Mayo Clinic). It is a strange disease. You may be surprised that, for the anorexic, much of life works backward. When encouraged to eat more as they lose weight, they chose instead to eat less even more resolutely, thereby losing more weight. The reason is that their self-perception is reversed from reality. When they look in the mirror, instead of seeing someone losing weight, they see a person gaining weight. Their perception is diametrically opposed to what the rest of us saw to be true. Jesus’ Beatitudes attempt to address something similar. Like an anorexic looking in a mirror, our views and expectations for God’s rule (and for us as human beings) are deeply distorted. Instead of seeing what God intends for us, we see something quite the opposite. So, when Jesus declares God’s actual expectations, we come away disoriented and disturbed. Everything seems backward from what we thought was true. Jesus begins by calling the poor in spirit blessed. How can that be? For both the secular and religious person, “being blessed” is usually an indication of flourishing. For those familiar with God’s work in the history of Israel, a blessing is associated with God’s goodness as it is expressed in the bounty of creation, in God’s faithfulness to deliver His people from their enemies, and in God’s affirmation of those who are faithful to God’s instructions. Economic poverty in ancient Israel (as to some Christians today) was a sign of the lack of God’s blessing. Spiritual poverty suffered much the same assessment. Even if the causes of such poverty were debatable, the effects could hardly be described as “being blessed.” What was Jesus talking about? Jesus’ Beatitudes have been with us for two millennia and it is easy to become too comfortable with them. There have been many explanations offered for what Jesus meant. It’s easy for Jesus’ words to lose their edginess. I think it’s worth letting the shock of Jesus’ words disorient and disturb us for a while. In the words of the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge, we suffer the “consequence of the film of familiarity” where “we have eyes, yet see not, ears that hear not, and hearts that neither feel nor understand.” We will delve further into the Beatitudes next week. 2We always give thanks to God for all of you, making mention of you in our prayers; 3constantly keeping in mind your work of faith and labor of love and perseverance of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ in the presence of our God and Father. 1 Thessalonians 1:2-3; 4:13
There is an adverb in the greeting from Paul to the Thessalonians that reminds me of my father, who passed away 20 years ago today. My parents left the tiny island of Taiwan over 55 years ago to serve as missionaries in a country they knew little about before leaving their own country. My parents were hard workers, struggling and laboring in a foreign country where they probably knew not one word in the local language when they landed on its soil. He could be often found working and praying at three or four in the morning. He was a living example of the adverb adialeiptós that I would read much later in life in the Greek of Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians. Even difficult circumstances can bring about adialeiptós (incessantly, without intermission) good work in us. In this case, Paul incessantly thinks and prays for the Thessalonians. Some people who leave such a profound effect on you that it compels you to talk to them. Some people’s candor and work are something so noble you cannot help but thank God and cheer them on. To remind them to weep – but not to weep like those with no hope (see 1 Thess. 4:13). In Paul’s case, it was not one person but a whole church. His remembrance and reflection about the work of these Thessalonians resulted in one implication that evoked his perpetual thanksgiving and constant prayer: they responded to the Gospel. The Gospel reminds us that we are being conformed to the image of the Son. It also reminds us that we labor with the same tools, hands and feet as others but with different motives and results. In many cases we do the same thing but with a different song in our hearts. Paul was not there involved with the day-to-day, but he got the pleasure of knowing that the presence of the Lord is sufficient. He learned from this early church community a good lesson in life for disciples of Jesus: that the same Spirit that hovered over the waters in Creation is holding Gospel communities together in their work also. They worked (for each other and in the city) because they had faith in (trusted) the Lord. They toiled in difficulty even if things did not work out because God’s love loved them first. They bore down under pressure because their hope was in Jesus. And this is the nature of the day’s labor for believers. One good work evokes another good work and one “constantly” evokes another “constantly.” We work sometimes by remembering other believers’ work. The Thessalonians received the Gospel message that rang out without intermission, and they responded by working together incessantly. And while Paul may not be present to get involved with the day-to-day activities, it is not as though he was not working with them. Perhaps at three or four in the morning, you could hear him calling on the Father in heaven and mentioning the Thessalonians also. Lord, make me a person who cannot stop thinking about You and my fellow brothers and sisters. Help me to see the work of my local church and my fellow saints in the workplace. Matthew 5:1-2
We all teach whether we intend to or not. That’s especially true for those of us who follow Jesus. Admittedly, there are times when we are painfully aware of people watching us, listening intently to what we say, scrutinizing our every move. At other times, we are scarcely conscious of how we are being heard or seen. We assume that people’s attentions are elsewhere. But surprisingly, they are watching and listening, even when they seem not to be. If you doubt that claim, ask any parent of a teenager! Not many of us think of ourselves as teachers. Our modern conception of teaching is something that happens in a classroom. For some, it’s easy to disdain the classroom which seems far removed from what we call “the real world.” Perhaps you have heard the saying, “Those who can, do; those who can’t, teach!” But such an attitude impoverishes our own practice of living and teaching. Jesus models a different vision for teaching. As a Jewish Rabbi, Jesus integrates two vital aspects of teaching – instruction and practice, teaching and example. Nowhere is that more evident than in the Gospel of Matthew’s Sermon on the Mount. Jesus embodies everything He teaches and teaches all that He embodies. As theologian Stanley Hauerwas puts it, “[Jesus’] life is but a commentary on the sermon, and the sermon is the exemplification of His life.” Jesus’ teaching as recorded in Matthew 5, which we know as “Sermon on the Mount” will be the focus of our next sermon series. Please note that I use the word “leader” in the widest possible sense. You may not feel like nor think of yourself as a “leader.” While you don’t have what appears to be “official” leadership roles in your current season of life, you are still very much a “leader” in my sense of that word. As a faithful disciple, we are an informal mentor to our many friends, serve in various areas of church ministries, and invest in a new generation of believers. In other words, we are every bit a leader as those who serve in more acknowledged and public leadership roles. So, please know that these reflections are meant for you too! One initial observation as we begin our journey “up on a mountainside” with Jesus. Teaching is so much more than just words, Matthew strikes a resonant chord with his readers by noting that Jesus “went up on a mountainside and sat down.” For his Jewish hearers, those actions vibrate with meaning. Matthew paints a picture of the Sermon on the Mount that harkens back to Israel’s formational moment as a covenant people: Moses going up Mt. Sinai to receive the gift of the covenant for God’s people. Matthew’s intent for this picture is inescapable. Jesus is the One who is to come who is greater than Moses (Deuteronomy 18:15), who is bringing a new covenant (Jeremiah 31:31-34) to the world. But there is a notable and important difference in the setting between Mt. Sinai and the Sermon on the Mount. As the writer of the letter to the Hebrews says so vividly, “You have not come to a mountain … that is burning with fire; to darkness, gloom and storm … to such a voice speaking words that those who heard it begged that no further word be spoken to them” (Hebrews 12:18-19). No, Jesus’ setting is remarkable in its understated ordinariness and, perhaps more importantly, in its welcoming hospitality. Jesus sits on a hillside with a group of His disciples talking about a new way of being human. Refreshingly, He uses remarkably direct and down-to-earth language, free of religious jargon. He speaks with little fanfare and with no drama. Except what He says will change the world, turning the world upside down by turning it right-side-up. That’s worth paying attention to. Matthew 3:16-17
The featured speaker at a particular dinner was a Catholic nun, and the only reason that this was unusual was that the dinner was a gathering of triathletes at Ironman Canada in 2006. The nun, Sister Madonna Buder, was not there to give a trite invocation before the meal but was a veteran participant asked to say a few words of encouragement to her fellow competitors. Nicknamed “Iron Nun,” Sister Madonna would become in 2012 the world record holder in her age group and the oldest person, at eighty-two, to complete the 2.4-mile swim, 112-mile bike, and 26.2-mile run that makes up the Ironman Triathlon. A competitor herself with several age-group world records in several running events to her name, she wanted to remind that group of dedicated performers that the most important thing about them was true about them before they had performed at all. That evening her message was simple, “Tomorrow, when things get tough out there, remember, you were loved into existence. If you get discouraged and want to quit, if you get injured and can’t finish, if things don’t go the way you hope even though you have trained for this day for months or even years, even then remember: You were loved into existence.” Which was also true about Jesus. Before there was a single miracle, there was a voice. Before there was a single act of world transformation, there was an affirmation. Before Jesus had done anything for anyone, something was done to and for Him. He was baptized in the Jordan River and this word was spoken over Him: “This is My Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased” (Mat. 3:17). While commentators affirm this passage as a kind of inauguration of the work that Jesus is about to undertake as Messiah, it’s a subtle but crucial point worth pausing on as we consider what it takes to serve well: before He had done anything, Jesus was already known, already loved, and already pleased His Father. This is important, not only because it is true and wondrous, and gives us great comfort, but also because it affirms a critical truth that disciples need to know: Resilient believers are grounded in something other than their success as a Christian. Resilient believers have a grounded identity. Their sense of self is not dependent upon the affirmation of those who celebrate them for their successes or laud them for their accolades. Truly resilient believers are grounded in the reality that they are already known and already loved, and are secure in that reality even when their circumstances are most unpredictable. The good news of God is that we are loved before we have accomplished anything. God is well-pleased in us before we have done anything to please Him. We are loved into existence. Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus, and even if we fail in our efforts, as we surely may; God’s love for us never fails. God will complete God’s own work in us, and someday the justice will roll down and the kingdoms of this world will become the kingdoms of our God and of His Christ and He shall reign forever. Let this truth transform you. Let this deep truth deepen you. Let the love of God ground you. John 21:1-14
The Gospels tell the story of Jesus’s post-resurrection appearances. We hear about Peter, John, Mary Magdalene, and others at the tomb; we are told of those who met Jesus on the way to Emmaus; we read of the disciples gathering in an upper room, first without Thomas and then with him; and finally, in John 21, we hear this story of how the disciples, having gone back to their old occupation of fishing, encountered the Risen Lord on the beach. The Gospel of John can often sound very mystical and metaphorical. There are long theological passages about Jesus and other long theological passages spoken by Him. There are many acts performed by Jesus as “signs.” There are dramatic prophecies. But when the author of John decides to tell a story, he tells it with many vivid details – from Peter being so excited that he jumps into the water naked, to the precise count of fish in the un-torn net, to the charcoal fire and the fish breakfast Jesus prepared. (Luke 24:42 tells of how, when Jesus appeared in the upper room, He ate broiled fish to prove to them He was not a ghost.) I don’t know about other church experiences during the COVID years, but here at FECC Fullerton, we ceased to meet together for in-person worship in early 2020 and went for about one year, worshipping on YouTube. We first gathered again together in person early 2021. Our service with masks on and chairs distanced from each other, singing along to a keyboard, but we were together and we sang and we read the Bible and I preached and we received the Eucharist. When we gathered together for in person Easter Sunday 2022, indoors, our YouTube Easter Sundays of 2020 and 2021 strongly echoed in our minds. 2022 was the first Easter together. Then we celebrated Holy Communion in person again. I had presided over many Holy Communions as the pastor of the congregation since 2019. There were renewed joy in being together in person. Bible readings struck home. Pieces of the liturgy took on new meaning. The presence of the Risen Christ was palpable. The hymn, “We Know that Christ is Raised” that I’ve sung many times before struck me in a new way, especially this verse: We know that Christ is raised and dies no more. Embraced by death, He broke its fearful hold, and our despair He turned to blazing joy-- Alleluia! I thought, and think now, of those disciples on the shore of the Sea of Tiberius. Confused, caught between the old and the new, puzzled by their post-Resurrection meetings with Jesus, fishing in the dark and catching nothing. And then, all of a sudden—daylight, fish, and the one they loved most welcoming them to breakfast, “Come and have breakfast.” Embraced by death, He broke its fearful hold; and their despair—and ours—he turns to blazing joy. Alleluia. Lord, turn my despair to blazing joy. Amen and be filled with Your fullness—and then to share it. Amen. |
Archives
April 2024
Categories |