Becoming What We Believe (post-Easter)

John 20: 19-29

Roger Lynn

April 28, 2019

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(there were technical difficulties with the video this week)

Hiding behind closed doors out of fear! From the opening words of this story in John’s Gospel, the disciples have our sympathy and understanding. We know about being afraid. The world in which we live can be a scary place. Whether it’s our personal safety, or concern for the direction of our country, or worries about our global community, it can all be overwhelming. There are occasions when hiding behind closed doors seems like a pretty good idea.

The great news which is contained in this story is that God is persistent and won’t let us just stay stuck in our fear. God’s presence meets us where we are: behind closed doors, in the midst of our fear. And the first order of business is always to call us out of our fear and back into our lives in the world. “Peace be with you!” It’s the same basic message which angels always seem to say whenever they show up in scripture. “Be not afraid.” We are invited to allow the loving, compassionate, protective presence of God to dispel the darkness of our fear! Be at peace.

Christ is Risen! So What? (Easter)

John 20: 1-18

Roger Lynn

April 21, 2019

Easter Sunday

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This past week the Church has once again told the story of pain and suffering, death and grief, and we have reflected on where God can be found in the midst of such experiences. In this season which we call Holy Week, Jesus has served as a guide on the journey through the shadows of life. But it wasn’t really necessary to look back 2,000 years to find stories of pain and suffering and death. We only needed to look as far as the headlines. Whether it is the wars and conflicts which have grown so numerous we have trouble even keeping track of them, or the mass shootings which seem to simply flow from one into another, or the flood of refugees at our border who are seeking safety and shelter as they flee from violence, we are overwhelmed with stories of suffering, death, and grief. Indeed, whether in the headlines or in our own lives, it often seems as if we are never far removed from the shadow side of life.

It is against this backdrop, of both history and our own experience, that we come to Easter, with the proclamation ringing from churches around the planet – “Christ is Risen! Christ is Risen, indeed!” Jesus’ resurrection takes center stage. Triumphal songs are sung. Trumpets blast. Joy is everywhere in evidence. The weight of 2,000 years of Church tradition seems determined to sweep us off our feet. And we can certainly understand the appeal of being carried away by the exuberance of it all. It seems the perfect antidote to the darkness which, at times, threatens to overwhelm us. But I fear that if we allow ourselves to be swept away too quickly and too easily then we will miss out on much of the real power which is waiting for us this day. 

And so it is that I invite you, in response to the message, “Christ is Risen!’, to reflect on one of the key theological questions of all time. “So what?” Why should we care about a story of someone 2,000 years ago on the other side of the planet coming back to life? What difference does it make in the here and the now of our living? So what? It may sound a bit outlandish (and perhaps even bordering on sacrilegious and blasphemous) to ask such a question, especially at Easter! But if we don’t spend at least a little bit of time pondering this question, then it is all too easy to fall into the trap of Easter becoming simply a memorial of something that happened a long time ago to someone else, instead of as an ongoing and ever-present celebration of what is happening right here, right now, in the very midst of us.

Journeying Beyond The Parade (Palm/Passion Sunday)

Matthew 21: 1-11

Roger Lynn

April 14, 2019

Palm/Passion Sunday

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(the video for this sermon is unavailable this week)

In retrospect, it is difficult to say just what happened. How big was the event? Who was involved? Why had they come? Were their expectations fulfilled? We don’t really know! But apparently there was a parade. Matthew says it was a large crowd, and then goes on to say that the whole city of Jerusalem was thrown into an uproar. Mark says that it was many people. Luke qualifies it by saying that it was a large crowd of his disciples, but then indicates that it was large enough to attract the attention of some of the Pharisees. John says it was a large crowd, and then goes on to tell us that the Pharisees saw in that crowd “the whole world following him!” It was, by all accounts, a lot of folks. Word had spread that Jesus was coming to town. This itinerate rabbi who had been preaching and teaching in Galilee was coming to Jerusalem. Some said he was a prophet. Others were saying that he performed miracles and healed the sick. And there were some who were proclaiming that he was nothing less than the long awaited Messiah, the Promised One of God. 

So, the crowd gathered. The excitement built. The shouting started. And Jesus was welcomed into Jerusalem as David’s Son – the one who comes in the name of the Lord! It really must have been quite a spectacle. 

But who were these people who gathered, waving branches and shouting praises? Why were they a part of this scene? We may never know all of the answer to such questions, but we can make a pretty good guess, because we have a pretty good understanding of people. Jesus’ “triumphant entry” into Jerusalem is the story of a mixed bag of people who came together for a mixed variety of reasons. There were, no doubt, those who were genuinely seeking to follow this charismatic teacher. Some may have been healed by Jesus. Others may have listened to his stories and were seeking to learn more. His disciples, those who had already been following him, were most likely in the crowd that day. There were probably others who had heard stories about Jesus and wanted to see for themselves. Perhaps they believed the stories. Perhaps they only wanted to believe the stories. Still others would have come simply to see what the excitement was all about. There was a crowd gathering and that meant something worth watching was likely to be happening. So this assorted collection of humanity gathered to greet Jesus, for all of their assorted reasons or no particular reason at all.

New Life For The Journey (Lent 5)

Ezekiel 37: 1-14 & John 11: 1-45

Roger Lynn

April 7, 2019

5th Sunday in Lent

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We understand about dry bones. Our world is full of them – both literally and figuratively. War zones both past and present, from Afghanistan and Iraq to Syria to various parts of Africa to the inner city streets of more than a few US cities. We find dry bones in court rooms everywhere that handle the thousands of divorce cases each year. We find them in hospitals and hospice centers and homes where people are dying of cancer and assorted other diseases. We find them in the desperation of the refugees fleeing from war and violence. Our world and our lives are filled with places and experiences of loss and death and grief. Like Ezekiel, we understand about dry bones. And like Mary and Martha, we know the grief of losing that which we hold dear. It can seem so hopeless and it can leave us feeling so helpless. Nothing we try seems able to turn the tide. Still there is more hate. Still there is more war. Still there is more killing. Still there is more death. Still there is more loss.

More than 25 years ago, in the summer of 1993, a close friend of mine died of AIDS. His wife had died the year before. And no one seemed to know even how to talk about it. The last time I saw him was just a few weeks before his death. It was a painful and disturbing experience. Some of that experience found its way into this poem.

One friend dead, another friend dying

And the winds of fearful silence blow across the land.

Conspirators of love talk in quiet whispers 

of pain, frustration, and walls they can’t break down.

There are no maps to guide us 

through this lost and lonely country.

Only fellow pilgrims who speak of paths they’ve tried.

In the end it’s love that wins. 

In the end it’s God who triumphs.

But in this wilderness before then, 

it’s hard to see that far.

One friend dead, another friend dying

And the winds of fearful silence blow across the land.

(“The Winds of Fearful Silence” by Roger Lynn ©June 4, 1993)