I remember as a child standing among the testifying azaleas at community Easter Sunrise services at Bryant Park in Richmond, Virginia. Azalea blossoms became visual parables of how it works in God’s world.  Winter yields to spring, death yields to life and life –somehow- never ends.  The swollen attendance in churches on Easter says that at least on this point the church and world still want the same thing – we long for assurance that there’s more to life than once and done.

There’s no doubt Christians caught a break when the Council of Nicaea declared in 325 CE that Easter would forever be calendared among the rites of spring. What a leg up – to have your central holiday dedicated to the reality of resurrection buttressed by longer days and shorter nights, the return of songbirds, and the colorful eruption of a sleeping earth becoming wide awake and alert.  Surely the Christian idea of resurrection was written in the ready testimony of the book of nature. The dogwood blossom in legend becomes but another gospel, its petals cross-shaped, its rust colored points stained by crucifixion blood, and its central green cluster a crown of thorns.

The witness of spring, though, has a way of changing the Christian resurrection story from history to poetry.  As the writer Frederick Buechner points out, in our pluralistic and skeptical age now it is the teachings of Jesus that are immortal, or the Spirit of Jesus that is undying, or Jesus himself is but a pointer to a kind of truth that is more profound than literal.  Hope can be reborn in a despairing soul.  Is that not enough?

I think the story of Easter resurrection is best heard in near darkness.  That’s the way it way happens in the gospel of Mark.  The women show up at Christ’s tomb for the first Easter Sunrise Service with only the smallest hint of light to guide their steps.  And seeing for themselves the glad good news of resurrection, what do they do?

Trembling and bewildered, the women went out and fled from the tomb.  They said nothing to anyone because they were afraid. (Mark 16:8)

 What explains this?  Not a resurrection that is simply poetry for the way things are.  No, they got a shadowy glimpse of a resurrection that should never be, but happened nonetheless.  Easter is about the resurrection of a dead man, body and soul, not an idea.  And if that be true, your resurrection may be about much more than you think.

Resurrection is not another term for what the flowers do on a seasonal basis.  It isn’t even the idea that believing souls shed their bodies and are finally free for heaven. To believe in the resurrection of the dead is to believe that in God’s good time we will be raised body and soul for life in a new heaven and a new earth.   Heaven for now is but where we wait for what so many of us have been praying for Sunday after Sunday, year after year:

Our Father in heaven, hallowed by your name, your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

 To believe in Easter, to look forward to resurrection, is to believe in heaven on earth where all that we have done in faith, hope, and love will not disappear but be swept up into a future we can only call the kingdom of God.

It is because of Easter that we should savor creation, create beauty, do justice, and practice faith for these are the gifts and works of our hands which God, along with our very selves, will raise up from the dust of the earth to an eternal life. Imagine the day on which you were your best self, did your best work, did it in great faith, amidst great beauty.  And now imagine it only becoming so much better than you ever thought it could be.  That is to stumble upon the outskirts of Easter, knowing that the best of it is beyond words.

So is it enough for us that once again the days lengthen, the gardens are ablaze with color, or the unknown potential of a new life is again born into a tired old world?  Is it enough that hope can be reborn in despairing soul?  Such things are blessing and a wonder, but they are not enough.  I’m holding out for Easter. I’m counting on resurrection, mine and yours.  I hope you will do the same.

 

 

Lent – Day 14

Scripture      Romans 4:13-17

Reflection

It’s a natural thing for people  to seek an advantage, and if found, take it.  We pursue a better job by networking with friends and acquaintences who could open a door for us.   We seek a better seat at the ballgame by checking with a season-ticket holder who might not need their seats this week.  We contact the flight attendant in the family to see if they might have a buddy pass to lower the price of the trip.  Is there anything wrong with seeking an advantage?  Most of the time the answer is “no”.

When it comes to being welcomed by  God, do some people have an advantage?  Is having a priest in the family a leg up?  Does the fact that the last 4 generations of your family all went to the same church put you in a better position?  Do some of us born in a particular place, or to a particular race, or of a certain gender have an advantage in gaining God’s approval over others?

When it comes to our tendency to seek, and claim, an advantage, Paul the Apostle says it won’t help us much in our relationship with God.

“Therefore the promise comes by faith, so that it may be by grace and may be guaranteed to all Abraham’s offspring – not only to those who are of the law but also to those who have the faith of Abraham.” 

In other words being born Jewish in Paul’s ancient world was no advantage in gaining God’s favor.  And in our time neither is being protestant, white, American, male – or any other adjective we would use to describe ourselves.  What does matter is something all can possess – faith.  Faith is the empty-handed acceptance of what God will do for us.  Faith is the stance of people who quit counting their advantages in order that they might receive God’s gifts.  Faith finally has little to do us, and that’s why so many of us find it so difficult.

Prayer Focus

Lord give me the courage to stand before you no longer citing my advantages, but relying only on your love displayed for all people through Jesus Christ.

It’s hard to find much that religious liberals and religious conservatives can get together on these days. The recent release of 50 Shades of Grey may create one of those rare moments.  The link below is a mainline Christian perspective on how 50 Shades creates a climate of acceptance for practices that deserve to be opposed. Worth the read.

http://pres-outlook.org/2015/02/behind-closed-doors-talking-church-50-shades-grey/

By now most have heard that the Supreme Court in a split decision sided with Hobby Lobby’s claim that they shouldn’t have to cover in employer insurance benefits forms of birth control that violate the religious conscience of the owners of the corporation.  And immediately that decision was evaluated according to a variety of filters.  Is it good news or bad news for women’s reproductive health?  If you support Obama care, was it a setback?  If you oppose Obama care was it as a victory?  No doubt a “pro-life” or “pro-choice” filter could be used to decide whose cause was helped and whose was hurt.

I want to suggest a different filter.  It really doesn’t depend on whether you think the viewpoints of the owners of Hobby Lobby are right or wrong when it comes to various forms of birth control.  Had the court found against Hobby Lobby (and the other plaintiff in the case) it would have in effect said, “The only place freedom of religion exists is between your ears.”  The moment you begin to do something about your faith in public life, that action enjoys no governmental respect.  A faith that is only allowed to exist in our head isn’t much of a faith at all.  It’s inconsequential.

In our country the perspectives of faith and religion are a driving force for everything from the relief of poverty, immigration reform, ecological concerns, to sanctity of life issues.  That doesn’t make everything done in the name of religion defensible.  But a ruling that actions taken because of religious conscience enjoy no unique respect by government would have had a chilling effect far beyond the the narrow issue in the headlines today.

Religion isn’t free if you can’t practice it.  That’s why this case matters and why people who live by faith should be glad for the decision, whether we agree with the owners of Hobby Lobby, or not.

 

 

 

 

I’ve never been to Omaha.  But there’s an old, fold-out map in my car which says it exists.

You’d think I was crazy if I was an Omaha denier.  After all it’s on the map.  There are often pale people who claim to be from Omaha. They can even describe the place.  A reasonable person would expect me to take their word for it even if I don’t have any experience of it.

This seems to me to be the great possibility for entertaining faith in God. Christian faith, at least, has a 2000 year old fold-out map based on the reports of many people who claim to have seen the place.  As with any map, there is more than one route, and you could argue some roads are better than the others. Yet in the end there is widespread agreement – the place exists.

Still there’s a problem. Shouldn’t God at least get the benefit of the doubt, based on the number of people who say they’ve been there?  And isn’t reasonable, should I ever get interested in locating God, I would at least consult somebody’s map?  And yet when it comes to God isn’t it amazing how many folks say no, if they can’t find God on their own terms there must be no God to be found?

Of course their problem points out the problem of settling for a faith that never gets beyond being satisifed with reading somebody else’s map.  I can live happily enough trusting other people’s reports about their trip to Omaha.  God it seems is always unsatisfying – and rarely more than a point of debate – unless we visit for ourselves.

I don’t mind peddling Christian maps to a curious world.  But it’s no substitute for taking the trip yourself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sunday night they were everywhere.  I took the dog out for the last trip of the night, and the yard was a dark field of blinking yellow lights. I’ve seen fireflies before, but not like this in years.  I think it was the spontaneity that got me, the beautiful unpredictability of light where none had been expected.

I don’t know where the fireflies had been.  Too many dried out, drought -stricken summers, too much bug killer, I don’t know.  But it did my heart good to see something so unscripted, so beyond my control. Whatever I could have planned wouldn’t have been half as wonderful.

By shear coincidence Sunday was Pentecost, that day when we remember the unplanned arrival of the fiery presence of God in the church.  The hope of the Christian faith is a God who can do more than we hope or expect.  We’re counting on fireflies, the light of God showing up in people from whom we would not expect it in places where we would not plan to find it.  And at least for one night it seemed to be the most reasonable sort of hope in all the world.

 

So I’m sitting here trying to master becoming a multi-platform social media user.  I’ll eventually figure it out.  I am reminded though of something I learned in a “contemporary” communications class years ago:  the depth of our message is inversely related to the distance it travels.  The further I send it, the thinner it gets.

The thickest message is called “ritual”- it doesn’t travel much further than the room where it happens.  Rituals are heard, seen, touched, and even smelled.  Like we say, “You had to be there.”

I don’t remember the name for the thinnest messages.  But think of the ancient telegraph or the modern tweet.  Only a few characters allowed to get the point across.  You can tweet the remotest corner of the world in a matter of minutes.

I’m not saying one is good and one is bad.  Each have their place.  I do worry though in our digital times that “thin is in”, and we mistake reach for depth.  Perhaps the screen creates a false sense of intimacy, and less community than we hope. There’s still a need to be with people in ways that are low tech and high touch.  Maybe a church is a good place to find it.

The traveling part of my sabbatical leave is long over, but there have been some great opportunities to share what I learned.  We just finished a preaching series at Westminster called Let’s Talk Evangelism: Wisdom From the Celtic Way.  I also led a Wednesday night class about the spiritual practices of the Celtic Saints from Ireland, Scotland, and Wales and how to adapt them for our time.

The sabbatical also included some wonderful time at Emerald Isle North Carolina enjoying the beauty of the beach.  No sabbatical leave is finally over without a good party, so why not make it a beach party?  On Sunday, November 3rd at Westminster we’ll be having a Low Country Boil and Beach Music Celebration to mark both the end of my sabbatical and  Celebration Sunday when we bring our commitments for supporting the work of the church in the coming year. 

If you regularly attend Westminster I hope you’ll come to the “Boil” immediately following the 11:15 service that day.  Come get some sand in your shoes! You can sign up at worship this Sunday, or email the office at suzannelunsford@wpcsnellville.org.  We need a good count so be sure to sign up right away.