Easter 3: The Kingdom of Heaven is like a Nurturing Momma

“See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called Children of God.” 1 John 3:1

How many of you know that today? How many of you know that God loves you, and that you are children of God, and that no matter what: no “one” and no “thing” can take that away from you now – or ever?

You and I are children of the most amazing God. We worship a God from whom it is impossible to escape his loving embrace.

With enough power, we can leave the earth. We proved that with the Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo space missions. We can leave the earth; we can escape earth orbit. But we have NO power to escape God’s great love for us.

What does that mean?

In ACTS 3 we see the story of John and Peter. They went to the temple, as was their custom; they healed a man crippled from birth (Note: he was looking for a handout – as was HIS custom – what he received from the apostles was FAR greater); people are upset – Why? It seems to them that their world is being turned upside down. In their world-view, the man is crippled because of his sin or the sins of his parents. Peter: It doesn’t matter. The fact is, it was God who did this – not us.

It was by FAITH IN HIS NAME – the name JESUS – that made him whole.

The name “Jesus” means “Yah Saves, Yah Heals”.

It is the FAITH that is THROUGH Jesus that has restored him

And here is the kicker:

What we do is sometimes evil – whether out of ignorance or malice – but that doesn’t matter. The Bible tells us – the Gospel tells us: Turn to God, and God will restore you too; God will heal you, too; God will save you, too.

That’s what God does; that’s what God wants – more than anything.

What is your image of God? Is your god Vengeful? Angry? Demanding? 

I try to stay away from people who act like that.

I try to stay away from people who are dangerous to my well-being, who are toxic to be around.

But what if the God we worship isn’t mad, angry, vengeful, or just waiting for us to goof up so he can toss us into the fire?

What if God actually delights in us? What then?

When I have people who nurture me, who care for me, who take care of me, who embrace me when I need it, and give me space when I need space, and who energize me when I am feeling drained – do you think I run from those kind of people, or run towards them?

John says: “See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called Children of God.”

As children, we have our DNA from our parents. 

As Christians, God replaces our DNA with God’s own spiritual DNA. God is converting/transforming our junky old DNA – the kind that leads to war, strife, greed, gluttony, etc. – to godly, holy DNA – the kind that leads to love, joy, peace, and grace: that produces the fruits of the Spirit.

In his Epistle, the Apostle John says, “we don’t look like God yet, but we’re getting there.” We are the evidence the world is looking for that there is a God who loves them THIS MUCH.

So, how do we do that? How do we make that “love” more visible?

First of all, we become a nurturing community – we become a people who are known as people who don’t just nurture one another – even the heathens do that – but who nurture the world.

It sounds like a big job, but God has faith in us. How do I know?

Jesus says: I am not a ghost. Feed me.

In Matthew (25) Jesus says: As you feed, clothe, visit others, you do so to me.

We take care of Jesus – even the risen Jesus – one person at a time. 

We don’t have the resources to take care of 7 billion people, but we do have resources to provide friendship to those who are lonely – here. 

We provide food to those who are hungry – here. 

We provide shelter to those who are cold – here. 

We visit those who are ill – here. 

We do what no one else in the world will do because that is what God has called us to do; that’s who God has called us to be: people who look and act like Jesus, because that’s what it means to be a child of God – and God knows we can do it through FAITH IN HIS NAME. 

“See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called Children of God.” 1 John 3:1

Secondly, we open our eyes and see what love God has given us; how God comes running to us when we are hurt, lonely, or afraid.

We pray, “Our Father …” That is a term of endearment. We pray “Our Father …” because we know that everything is his – and he lavishes us with good gifts. I remember that old tune we sometimes sang at the offertory in some of my early churches: 

“All things are thine, no gift have we, Lord of all gifts, to offer thee, and hence with grateful hearts today, Thine own before thy feet we lay.”

We pray “Our Father” because we have a God who cares for us every bit as deeply, every bit as lavishly, every bit as passionately as Mother, Father, Brother, or Sister ever has – and more. We just have to look up, like the man at the gate.

That’s both a challenge and a promise, and it’s ours for good. AMEN

When Your Pants Ride High

“Those who guard their mouth and tongue Guard themselves from trouble.” Proverbs 21:23

I am usually a mild-mannered sort of dude. There’s not a lot that ruffles my feathers. I don’t mind when traffic is heavy and slow; I know I’ll get to where I’m going. I don’t mind when there is a wait to get a seat at a restaurant on a Friday night; I know they’ll seat me as soon as they can. I don’t mind when people bump into me when they pass me by down the bread aisle at the grocer’s; I know I tend to loaf. 

I’m a patient guy. But I’ll confess that every now and then I find my dander getting up for one reason or another, and when that happens, I put on grumpy pants. I inherited them from my father. On those rare occasions when he would get angry, he needed trousers that would stretch and cling at the same time, as he was wont to jump right out of those britches if he got all truly riled up over something.

One day, for instance, our toilet took to overflowing, but not always. It was unpredictable. It would flush fine one time, and the next it wouldn’t, causing the water to pour out onto the floor. He checked but couldn’t find a blockage, so finally, exasperated, he removed the toilet, took it out back, snaked it from the bottom with the garden hose and, voila, out popped my sister’s china toy tea cup. Dad became a human jackhammer, stomping on that cup until it was reduced to atomic bits. 

This past week found me needing to put on my own grumpy pants. It wasn’t anything major, just a lot of little things that were getting my proverbial goat. Becoming something of an old goat, it struck me more personally than it probably needed to.

First, there was a delivery scheduled to arrive the day before Easter. I had ordered the item ten days earlier, and it was coming by way of an express delivery service, but without a need to rush. I was excited; it was a gift for the missus and was to be a surprise for Easter dinner. On delivery-date Saturday, the Express truck pulled up in front of the house and sat there for about five minutes, then drove off. Apparently the driver had forgotten to load the package onto the truck that morning; the tracker system reset delivery to Monday. I absolutely positively will NOT trust that outfit for my shipping needs. Thus, I donned my grumpy pants.

Then early this week I needed to conduct some financial business online. I logged on, went to the page created for that purpose, and was directed to call a toll-free number. I called it and followed the automatic messages down the rabbit hole until finally the phone system sent me a link back to the web page from which I had embarked. The cell and web systems put me into an infinite loop. Not only was I wearing my grumpy pants; I’d pulled them up above my belly button!

Last night I wanted to visit one of our streaming services. I directed my voice activated remote to send us to the service which, for some reason, had forgotten who I am or was. It asked me to sign up or sign in. Actually, it didn't ask. It told me to. Unsurprisingly, that pushed one of my buttons. Televisions and cable boxes apparently have never heard of memorizing information, so I had to manually scroll across the fake keyboard punching in my email address and a password that contains a complex mix of numbers, letters alternating between upper and lower cases, and symbols (none of which was a gesture I really wanted to use). By the time I was readmitted to my streaming service, I was both steaming mad, and had pulled my grouchy pants up to my armpits.

Today, I have taken deep breaths; I have recited the Serenity Prayer; I have traded my grumpy pants, once again, for comfort clothes. If things happen in threes, I should be fine for a while. Meanwhile, my grumpy pants are available whenever I need them here in this, our valley. They still fit.

Keith Axberg writes on matters concerning life and faith. Author of: Who the Blazes is Jesus? Good News for a Vulgar World (available through Amazon in Print and e-book)

Easter Vigil Homily

 

GREAT VIGIL OF EASTER

Sermon delivered by the Rev. Keith Axberg to the people of St. Paul’s (Mount Vernon

and La Gente de La Iglesia Episcopal de la Resurrección

March 30, 2024

Mark 16:1-8

When the sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint Jesus. And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. They had been saying to one another, "Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?" When they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back. As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed. But he said to them, "Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you." So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.

https://www.lectionarypage.net/YearB_RCL/Easter/BEasVigil_RCL.html#Gospel

Give ear O heavens, and I will speak; Let the earth hear the words of my mouth; for I will proclaim the name of the Lord, and ascribe greatness to our God! Dt. 32:1-4 (abbreviated and distilled)

The Homily

After forty days of fasting, today is a Feast Day! It is OUR feast day: “Pascua es la fiesta de la resurrección”

It is a feast day for all of us. We gather this night to usher in a new day, a new season, a new life for all of us.

And not just for all of us, but for the whole world. By the grace of God, we are sisters and brothers in Christ Jesus our Lord. 

In our very first lesson tonight, we learn that God created the heavens and the earth, and everything that is in them. God created the sun, the moon, and the stars. God created the land, the seas, the rivers and lakes. God created plants and trees, birds, animals, and all the great & little fishies. Every step of the way, at the end of each day, God stops, turns around, examines every square inch of creation and says, “That’s good, that’s good; WOW! That is oh so very good!”

At the end of this first lesson, before God goes to take a nap on the seventh day, the Sabbath, God stops one last time, and like television Detective Lieutenant Columbo, God rubs his chin and says, “Oh, there’s just one more thing …”

And with a twinkle in the Divine Eye, “God created the human race IN God’s image. In the image of God – Imago Dei – God created them; male and female, God created them …”

We are the cherry on top. 

If you have ever had a banana split – they are quite heavenly – you know what a delightful dessert it is. You take a bowl or a boat and layer it with scoops of ice cream, covered with chocolate sauce, and juicy strawberries, and tangy crushed pineapple; you take the split banana and surround that mountain of goodness with those bananas to help keep all that goodness contained, and when it is done, you add a layer of sweet, thick whipped cream; and after all of that, finally, you top it off with a bright red maraschino cherry. 

It is the outward and visible sign that the creation of the banana split is finished. It’s done. All that’s left now is to enjoy that creation the way it was designed to be enjoyed.

We are the outward and visible sign God places atop God’s own creation. We are not placed here to subordinate the created order, or to dominate it, or to abuse it, but to take care of it the way God would take care of it. 

We were created Imago Dei (in the image of God), so that we might live in Imitatio Dei (in the imitation of God) in the way we live and relate to God, to our neighbor, and “to this Earth, our Island home.”

As you know, the human race did very well, but only for a short chapter or two.

We decided that creation, like the banana split, was ours to devour, and we have had a rough go of it ever since:

From the primal elements you brought forth the human race,

and blessed us with memory, reason, and skill. You made us

the rulers of creation. But we turned against you, and betrayed

your trust; and we turned against one another. (BCP, p. 370)

The stories we hear at the Great Vigil of Easter  – La Gran Vigilia Pascua –take us on a journey. Time and time again, we hear the promises of God to save us and to forgive us. 

When the world was full of evil, God tried to wash away the evil in a great flood. But God protected Noah and his family. God saved them from the flood. God saw death and destruction. God was sorry for making war. God hung the warrior’s bow in the sky and said, “Never again. I will find another way.”

Time and time again, God tries to find another way forward:

God provided a Ram to save Isaac. God provided a Lamb to save us. Right?

God helped free the Israelites from slavery in Egypt. God made a way for them to cross the Red Sea. 

The Bible tells us we are slaves to sin. We know the right things to do, but we don’t do them. We know the things we shouldn’t do, but we do them anyway. God has provided freedom for us too. Through baptism, we cross the sea that is red from the blood of Jesus. We are made free in and through Jesus.

In Ezekiel, the Spirit of God hovered over the Valley of Dry Bones. God asks: Can these bones live? Like Ezekiel, we shake our heads and we answer, “O Adonai, only you know (if these bones can live).” God says, “Then talk to them, and I will give them life!”

“Talk to them, and I will give them life.”

Throughout this past week, from Palm Sunday until this day, before the sun set, we have been walking alongside Jesus. We have walked with Jesus through his Passion. We ate supper with him in the upper room. He washed our feet on Thursday night. We prayed with him in the Garden of Gethsemane. On Good Friday, we watched him when he was arrested. We watched with Peter as he stood trial, as he was tortured and, finally, nailed to a tree – for you, and for me. “He died, and was buried.” (Nicene Creed). That should have been the end of the story.

NOW! We come to the end of this day. The Sabbath has ended. The sun has set, but the light has not gone out. Today … today, my friends, is a new day.

It is tempting to burst out in song. I know the feeling. As I was writing my sermon, it was right here I wanted to sing out:

Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia! The strife is o’er, the battle done, the victory of life is won; the song of triumph has begun. Alleluia! Hymnal 1982, #208

Now it is Easter. It’s the feast of the resurrection – resurrección. 

We should be happy. We should be glad. God has raised Jesus from the dead. The tomb is empty. For 2000 years we have proclaimed this good news to the world. For 2000 years we have celebrated the resurrection of Jesus, not just on Easter Sunday, but every time we gather.

Jesus once said, “Whenever two or three of you get together, I will be there.” Not “in spirit.” Not as “a metaphor.” 

Jesus said, “I will be there,” because God gave Jesus new life. When the women came to the tomb, it was empty, except for a young man. 

He said to them: "Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you."

We gather here tonight before the empty tomb, and what that young man dressed in white said to the women there, this old man dressed in white says to you, too:

Jesus is going on ahead of us. Go, and you will see him, just as he told you. You and I are his Body. We are his blood. So don’t be afraid to live as Jesus lived, and continues to live, in you.

We have a command: Go home. Share the good news. Talk to the old bones. Talk to them; I will give you life: For Christ is risen; the Lord is risen, indeed! Alleluia! Alleluia, Alleluia. Amen

Collect for Holy Saturday

 

O God, Creator of heaven and earth: Grant that, as the crucified body of your dear Son was laid in the tomb and rested on this holy Sabbath, so we may await with him the coming of the third day, and rise with him to newness of life; who now lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

I do not believe there is any service more neglected than Holy Saturday. It is a very brief service, concluding the three day liturgy we call the Triduum (literally, three days). Neither Maundy Thursday nor Good Friday include a dismissal. The same is true of Holy Saturday, which brings the Triduum to a close.

The service (found on page 283 of the Book of Common Prayer, 1979) opens with this collect, four lessons, a brief homily or meditation, an anthem, the Lord’s Prayer, and concludes with “the Grace.” There is no celebration of the Eucharist shared or offered on this day.

It is sad the service is seldom offered (in my experience). Altar Guilds are normally very busy preparing the sanctuary for the Great Vigil of Easter or Easter Sunday morning services. While the body of Jesus lies in repose in the cave or niche carved out for burials, we are invited to pause, to rest with him. 

I say “invited” because I’m not fond of “shoulds.” The busyness of the church is actually a sample of what we experience in real life. Saturday is the Sabbath. It is the day of rest, and while the command for it to be a day of rest for all of creation stands, the women folk cannot help but be busy with preparations for Easter, can they? We know the end of the story, so we gather our lilies and bulletins and song-sheets, prepared to restore the “A-word” to the liturgy and make our churches as joyous as humanly possible.

Tomorrow (or tonight) we will hear of the women gathering their spices and ointments and heading out to the tomb “early in the morning” to give Jesus a proper burial, one they couldn’t provide in the rush Friday as the sun was preparing to set. But today, I invite you to set apart some time to ponder Jesus’ very real death. Pause. Rest. Put on the robes of any of the disciples (including Judas Iscariot, if you wish or dare) or of the women and consider what would be going through your heart and mind that very first Holy Saturday – the day before you would have any notion of what Jesus meant when he spoke of resurrection and the life to come.

Amen

Collect for Good Friday

 

Almighty God, we pray you graciously to behold this your family, for whom our Lord Jesus Christ was willing to be betrayed, and given into the hands of sinners, and to suffer death upon the cross; who now lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

It is interesting that the Collect for Good Friday shifts focus for a moment. We do not ask God to look upon Jesus, but upon “this your family.” Which family, though? Jesus’ disciples – the ones who ran away in the dead of night when he was arrested? Jesus’ mother (and other assorted women who chose NOT to run away)? We who gather here on the second day of the Triduum? Or is it something much more entirely unexpected?

Are we asking God “graciously to behold this your family …” the human race that came into being there in the Garden of Eden o so many generations ago? That “family” which was dredged up out of the mud, molded, and into which the very breath of God was imparted? That family which crowned the creation, reflecting the very image of God in the fulness of their humanity – and which fell shortly thereafter?

St. Paul tells us it is unusual for someone to sacrifice themselves for a loved one, but Jesus did so, not just for those he loved, but for the whole human race. The healing and restoration of the world began here, on Good Friday. Not the healing and restoration of me, or even us, but of the whole world. I suspect that healing and restoration is not limited to we human beings, either, but for the entire creation. It started here, nailed to a tree.

Jesus was “willing to be betrayed” and given into the hands of “sinners” (by which we mean those who fall short. We are all part of that package. Either Jesus died for all of us, best and worst alike, or he died for none of us. How scandalous!), and to “suffer death upon the cross.”

 We humans have never lived up to our potential as the people of God. The cows offered us corn, the squirrels offered us nuts, but the serpent offered us a fig, and we’ve figged up royally ever since. But this is God, “whose property is always to have mercy.” We’ve not earned God’s mercy, but we’ve got it, whether we want it or not. We pray for God to look at us, and not at what we’ve done. The miracle of God Friday is that God hears our prayer. Thank God.

Amen

Collect for Maundy Thursday

 

Almighty Father, whose dear Son, on the night before he suffered, instituted the Sacrament of his Body and Blood: Mercifully grant that we may receive it thankfully in remembrance of Jesus Christ our Lord, who in these holy mysteries gives us a pledge of eternal life; and who now lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Why did Jesus “institute” the “Sacrament of his Body and Blood”? I have a friend who always hated the word institution. It brought to his mind images of sterile hospitals and asylums, schools and prisons. He didn’t want institutions. He wanted the flesh and blood reality of relationships.

While I may not have his distaste for the word, I appreciate and value his thoughts on the matter. Body and Blood. That’s real life, isn’t it? Can anyone here not relate to what those are? If you have stubbed your toe, do you not recognize the reality of the body? If you prick your thumb on a rose or nettle, do you not bleed?

Jesus took the night of what would become his final supper (his Last Supper) and broke bread with those with whom he had walked, talked, argued, debated, challenged, and worked for the past number of months or years. Tearing a small loaf of (probably) unleavened bread he said, “Here. This is my body ripped, torn, broken for you. Whenever you eat it, know that my life is linked with yours, and your life is linked with me, and together we will be my Body; new life.”

Jesus took the night of what become his final supper (his Last Supper) and looking into the cup he held in his hands, he saw the wine, dark, red (at least we assume it was red) and remembered the blood placed over the homes of Jewish slaves in Egypt (to protect them from the angel of death that would Pass Over) and said, “This is MY blood. It is a new covenant. It is poured out for you and for many, protecting you from the wrath of God. Whenever you drink it, know that my life is linked with yours, and your life is linked with mine, and together we will be my Lifeline to the world.”

Meals are life-giving and life-affirming events. They are, obviously, a necessary part of living. I enjoy the routine of three-squares a day. When we say grace, we are continuing this act of remembering, aren’t we? It may not be the liturgical sacrament of Holy Communion we share in church, but it is still an acknowledgement that “all things come of thee, O Lord, and of thine own have we given thee.” The keyword here is Thanksgiving. Gratitude is at the heart of Holy week, and at the heart of Jesus’ command to “do this in remembrance of me.”

Amen

Collect for Wednesday in Holy Week

Lord God, whose blessed Son our Savior gave his body to be whipped and his face to be spit upon: Give us grace to accept joyfully the sufferings of the present time, confident of the glory that shall be revealed; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

No, I am not going to “joyfully” accept the sufferings of this present time. I will endure suffering. I will accept suffering. I will acknowledge suffering. I will appreciate that not all suffering is bad. Hard work may be painful, but if it gets us to where we’re going, or produces what we are striving to produce, then fine; I’ll joyfully accept such suffering. But I find no nobility in suffering as such.

The thought of Jesus passively giving his body to be whipped and face to be spat upon is surreal. Yes, his body was whipped. Yes, his face was spit upon. Yes, his beard was likely ripped out by the handful, and other tortures and indignities endured. He no doubt knew resistance would be futile. The one who taught us to go the extra mile and to pray for those who abuse us no doubt walked the walk. I’ll confess, I would not have been so passive, but that’s why God called Jesus to this peculiar ministry, and not me.

I already fail at life, let alone in imitating Jesus in any significant way. Yet, knowing how far short I fall, helps me understand just how tall Jesus stood. 

The point is, I don’t need to fear facing the trials Jesus faced. There is somewhere near zero percent chance of me being arrested for my preaching. There will be the occasional troll I may have to face when posting on social (or anti-social) media, but those will mostly just be words. The pain is only felt by the poor spelling and worse grammar skills of those trolls. I may find a bit of proverbial egg on my face, but no spittle.

Jesus faced far worse than I ever will, and set his face toward Jerusalem when the time came, rather than traipsing around the relatively safe environs of the Galilean hills. That’s the point. He could have played it safe. He could have avoided going to Jerusalem, but then he would have had no impact on the world at large. He’d have just been another nice man saying nice things. Instead, he chose to make an impact for God’s sake, even though it was the life-threatening way.

“(C)onfident of the glory that shall be revealed …” 

It isn’t our glory that will be revealed, but the glory of God. Doing the right thing may have its downside, but God is always the upside of those decisions. What a person or group of people may do is nothing compared to joining with Christ in his suffering, that we may rise with him in his resurrection. His glory will be revealed in the "sign of Jonah" in the days to come. Amen