Church of the Epiphany

Lent 5A
John 11

We have been blessed to go through some vignettes from John this Lent.  In John, there are seven miracles or ‘signs’ that he records as pointers to the identity of Christ.  In some of them are assigned ‘I Am’ statements.  He miraculously feeds the 5000, and he says ‘I am the bread of life.’  He heals the blind man, and he says ‘I am the light of the world.’

In the seventh and final ‘sign,’ Jesus raises his friends Lazarus from the dead.  Here is the ultimate of Jesus’ signs.  Before it, he says, “I am the resurrection and I am the Life,” leaving little doubt to Jesus’ authority and his identity.  Here, in the carpenter of Nazareth is also the God of the universe.  In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.

This gospel is read towards the end of Lent because it was the event that caused the Pharisees to begin their plot to arrest and kill Jesus.  Soon Jesus will ride into Jerusalem with hosannas ringing in the air.  However, the cross is right around the corner.

Jesus weeps.  Critics of John’s gospel say that John characterizes Jesus as a divine being that has come down from heaven whose feet never touch the ground.  In fact, one of my seminary professors said that in John, Jesus is more like Spock than a real man.  I couldn’t disagree more.  Yes, it is obvious from John’s gospel that Jesus is God, equal with the Father, but in John Jesus turns water into wine.  He eats and drinks.  He puts mud in a blind man’s eyes.  He washes his disciples’ dirty feet.  And here, he weeps.  He is both God and man.

And isn’t it comforting to know that Jesus wept?  Why did he weep?  Because Lazurus is a friend.  Because he is hurt for his family.  Isn’t it comforting to know that when we lose a loved one God is also hurt?  Death was never meant to be part of the human condition.  Even Jesus weeps at the reality and finality of death.

Fred Craddock says, ‘Is there any place where this text does not fit?  Spray paint it on the gray walls of the inner city: Jesus wept.  Scrawl it with a crayon on a hallway of an orphanage: Jesus wept.  Embroider it on every pillow in the nursing home: Jesus wept.  Nail it on posts along a refugee road out of an African nation: Jesus wept.  Flash it in blinking neon at the bus station where the homeless are draped over pitiless benches: Jesus wept…’  He weeps at the suffering and death of our world.  The text says that he was disturbed, even angry at Lazarus’ death.

But here is the crux of our reflection.  Jesus can do something about it.  Jesus said, ‘I am the Resurrection and the Life, the one who believes in me, even though they die, yet shall they live.’  Jesus did call Lazarus from his grave to come out of death back into life.

This raising of Lazarus is one of those cosmic events.  It is the ultimate ‘sign’ of Jesus’ deity and Godhood.  It is cosmic because it anticipates Jesus own resurrection as well as shows us just who is in charge here.

Jesus is in charge of calling forth from the grave.

Jesus can stare death in the face and turn it into something else.  By pulling Lazarus out of the grave, he changes the meaning of death all together.  For Jesus, there is no time and death is irrelevant.  ‘I am the resurrection and I am the life.’  But this story is more than just a cosmic story.  It is also a personal story.  What does Jesus say to this dead man wrapped in grave clothes?  ‘Lazarus, come forth.’  He calls him by name.  Lazarus is more than a pawn in a divine chess game.  He is Jesus’ friend.

There is nothing like hearing someone call us by name.  Experts say it is what we want to hear the most from others.  I remember when Sarah and I first met, I introduced myself and she shook my hand and said, ‘Hello, Stace.’  That was no big deal for her I’m sure but I loved the way my name sounded coming from her.

In life and in death, those in Christ hear the most wonderful sound, the voice of Jesus crying out there name.  When Jesus rises from the grave, Mary Magdeline recognizes him because he says her name.

When Jesus raises Lazarus, it show us his love extends beyond the grave.  Jesus’ love is so powerful that not even death can quench it.  The Song of Solomon says that human love is as strong as death.  Christ shows that his love is even stronger than death itself.

I love the Eastern Icon of the resurrection.  It shows Jesus in hell reaching out his hands and pulling Adam and Eve out in an act of rescue.  Jesus love is the great reversal of fortunes.  It is beyond all that we can ask or imagine.

Jesus love is a great reversal of everything we know of as disordered and evil.  He invades the temporal world to bring a Kingdom in which love reigns. This is the kind of love that encompasses all that is righteous and all that is holy.  It is love that penetrates the darkness and invades the powers of hell.

This story of Lazarus is cosmic, but it is so much more.  It is a clear picture of Jesus’ love for us, a love that is stronger than death.  ‘I am the resurrection and the life,’ says the Lord, ‘all who believe in me shall live, even though they die.’

But there is more here.  Even though we’ve been talking about death, and Jesus’ conquering of it, notice what Jesus actually says.  ‘I am the resurrection and the life…’  He does not say, ‘I will be the resurrection and the life.’  ‘I am’, present tense.

Many critics of Christianity say that it is too much oriented to the future, to clouds and angel wings.  Jesus has a lot to do with our souls after death but not much to our physical realities and our everyday existence.  But the life Jesus offers is for a present kingdom reality.  Jesus says in John 17, ‘This is eternal life, that [my followers] know the Father, and Jesus Christ whom he has sent.’  Salvation in Christ is a present, living relationship with the living God, not just a guarantee of heaven when we die.  Christ conquers final death but also ‘living death.’  We live in a world of the living dead.  We live in a culture obsessed with me myself and I.  Jesus says, ‘apart from me you can do nothing.’

I often do my work at Starbuck’s down the road and often I get to eavesdrop on conversations.  There were three young hotshot lawyers there the other day (not that there’s anything wrong with that).  I was struck at how three young, sharp, intelligent men could be such examples of what Dr. Hollis calls ‘rectal cranial inversion.’

They were talking about women walking by, they were talking about all the hot cases in the headlines and not a sentence went by without the ‘F’ word.

You can have it all and still be walking around as the living dead.  We can ask the question of Ezekiel about most of our culture, ‘Can these bones live?’ You can be at the top of your game and still be completely lost.  ‘I am the resurrection and the life…I have come that you might have life, and have it more abundantly.’

But how do we get there?
The last point is the most ironic.  When Jesus reaches the home of Mary, Martha and Lazarus, there is a line that seems like a throwaway line but it is not.  Jesus asks the sisters, ‘where have you laid him?’  And they say, ‘Lord, come and see.’  Jesus does and he weeps.

If you are a careful reader, (and remember, when the gospels were first presented to the church, they were read aloud) you would note the repetition of the phrase ‘come and see.’
When the disciples first met Jesus they asked, ‘where are you staying’ and Jesus said, ‘come and see.’  Nathaniel said to Philip, ‘can anything good come from Nazareth?’  And Philip says, ‘come and see.’  When the Samaritan woman was on her evangelistic tour of her village, what did she say?  ‘Come and see the man…’

‘Come and see’ is an invitation to discipleship.  It is a call to believe and to follow.  Yet here the sisters say, ‘come and see a tomb,’ ‘come and see death.’

Come and see the way of Jesus.  ‘Whoever does not lose his life, will never find it…’  Jesus way is the way of death and entombment.  To find your life you must lose it.  To rise with Christ you must first realize you are walking in grave clothes.

You can be at the top of your game and still be completely lost.  That is, without Jesus as the center of everything you do and everything you are.  You can still be alive and vital and in shape and financially stable and be lost without Jesus.

Charles Schulz began his career with great faith, but fame and money drove him away.  He had affairs and paid more attention to the ‘kids’ in his strip than his real life kids.  Close to his death he said, ‘the poor kid never got a chance to kick the ball, what a dirty trick.’  Linus’ words from Luke were far away from him and it is said that he died angry and bitter.

The way of discipleship is illustrated by what Lazarus experiences in a very literal way.  If Nicodemas wants to know what it is to be born again, Lazarus is your man.  If you want to know the radical call of following Christ, which we reenact liturgically in baptism, just ask Lazarus.  Being in Christ is dying to yourself and being raised in and by Jesus Christ.  Forsaking, denying, walking away from, dying to–your way of doing things
and having Christ take it all.  As the silly Carrie Underwood song says, ‘Jesus take the wheel.’

You can be at the top of your game and still be completely lost.
Come and See the way of Jesus…

Lent 3
John 4

This story is one of my favorites from John. The Samaritan woman is an interesting contrast to Nicodemus, who we read about last week. He is the one who comes in the darkness to see Jesus in secret. In contrast, the woman is portrayed as one who has come to the light. This woman interacts with Jesus at high noon, out in the open. Nicodemus came in hiding and left in silence. This woman comes in the daylight and leaves proclaiming the Lordship of Jesus.

This morning I want to reflect on two things, what the story says about Jesus and what the story says about the woman at the well.

First, what does this story say about Jesus? One, that he will go anywhere and do anything to rescue one of his sheep. You can’t read this story without marveling at Jesus’ willingness to ignore the propriety of the culture in those days. A Jew didn’t associate with Samaritans because Samaritans were half Assyrian conqueror and half Jewish. Secondly, they worshiped on Mt. Gerazim rather than in Jerusalem. Not only that, it was unthinkable for a Jewish man to openly talk to a Samaritan woman. A single Jewish man wasn’t supposed to talk to any woman, much less a Samaritan. Not only was it bad enough that he talked to a Samaritan woman, she was a loose Samaritan woman at that. Jesus went out of his way to ignore the religious and cultural barriers to offer her living water. The woman was probably confused at first and may have even thought Jesus was looking for a date. A well was a common place to meet people. Don’t forget Jacob himself found his wife at this very well. And when Jesus asked about her husband, and she said, ‘I have no husband,’ she may have been giving him an invitation. But that was not Jesus intent. He broke all rules of the religiously correct to reach into this woman’s world and heal her. His intent was to change her life—to bring her freedom.

Second, Jesus message to this woman said much about his identity. And ‘who it is that is offering you living water.’

Jacob’s well was an important place. It was the well that Jacob gave to his son Joseph. It represented the calling of Israel for Jacob’s name was changed to Israel. It was a tie to a holy and ancient past. It was a well that had been there as a reminder of God’s care for his people. It was almost like a shrine of God’s pouring out of the waters of his blessing. What does Jesus offer immediately to this woman? Living water, water that when you drink it, you never thirst again.

Jesus returns to the imagery of water that he talked to Nicodemus about. Here living water is ‘the water of life,’ living because it comes from a pure, running stream.

What does this say about Jesus? Jesus here is saying that he is better that the water of Jacob, the water of Israel. The water he gives is greater.

Even more important is the conversation they have about the Temple. The Samaritans and Jews disagreed on where the Temple ought to be and where God’s glory is correctly experienced. Jesus went with the Jewish interpretation. But he said that a time is coming when the true worshipers will worship God, not in Samaria or Jerusalem, or the Temple, but in ‘Spirit and Truth.’ Jesus is saying that the experience of God that he offers transcends even the holiest of places, the Temple. In essence he is saying that he is more than the Temple, that the glory of God is revealed in him. He is the truth and he sends the Spirit. The living water of Jesus surpasses sacred places even the most sacred.

We need to hear what Jesus is saying here. Isn’t it easy to limit God to a place? Isn’t it easy to put God in our Sunday box and forget about him the rest of the week? I believe that Christ is present here in this Temple. I am a sacramental Christian and I believe this place is sacred. But what happens when we leave this morning. What happens when we go out for lunch or go home or go to work tomorrow? Have we left Christ here?

One of the wonders of our faith is that anywhere Christ is and where his people are, there is a holy and sacred place. Remember what the bishop from Sudan said: ‘I was consecrated under a tree.’ There are 1200 churches in his diocese alone, most of which meet under a tree—therefore that place becomes holy.

This is true for us as well. And worship doesn’t only take place at this time and in this place. Paul says to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God, this is our spiritual act of worship. Worship doesn’t cease when we walk out of those doors. The challenge for liturgical Christians like ourselves is to long for the holy presence of God in every aspect of our existence. A modern Christian Cyprian monk has said, ‘the natural state of man is the continuous contemplation and memory of God. I do not mean a cerebral memory of God but a memory that works from within the heart…the heart is attached to God, lives with God, functions in God, and is joyous with the presence of God even while [being] absorbed by everyday activities.’

Continuous contemplation of God. Continuous worship. Continuous waiting and yielding ourselves to him, no matter where we are or what we are doing. We need to be careful not to limit God to a church building or a particular way of worship. True worshipers worship him in Sprit and in Truth, even during everyday activities.

There is one more observation about Christ from this story that is worth noting. It is his insight and perception. He knows the right words for the right time for the right reasons. His goal? To change her life. He is not after a convert and he is not out to win an argument. He is there to change her life. He is there to give her a freedom that she has never had. He is there to be living water.

As Richard Lischer says, ‘Only one who loves you knows your deepest desires. Only one who loves you can look at your past without blinking.’ Jesus had every right to judge her and to bring the law of Moses down hard on her. But he loved her. All he wanted to do was to quench her thirst and make her free.

This brings us to the woman. She comes by herself to the well. This is an indication that she was an outcast even among the woman of the community. This is probably because of what Jesus says—‘You have had five husbands, and the man you are with now is not your husband.’

Now her ‘looseness’ was not her only difficulty. She was more than likely cast aside and divorced by those husbands for no real reason. Some men in those days interpreted the law as a way to give license to walk away. If the wife burned the toast, you could divorce her. She was in a no win situation.

She does not know what to do with Jesus. She probably thinks that he is hitting on her at first, but then he offers her this living water, and talks about worship and tells her everything there is to know about her.

He wants to give her something that the other men in her life won’t or can’t. Freedom. A purpose. A reason to live. Joy. Living water.

And you know what? It doesn’t take her long to understand. She is in great contrast with Nicodemus the religious expert. She is a sinner. She is broken. But she is in the light and the religious leader is in the darkness. And she wants to be in the light, no matter how vulnerable it makes her feel, not even if the Son of God sees all of the darkness and brokenness inside of her. As one author has put it, ‘The light has exposed her, but she chooses to remain, and it must have been a decision of remarkable courage and will.’

Aren’t the broken the better witnesses to the faith than those who have it all together? For example many ministries on college campuses have a strategy that I don’t particularly like. The strategy is to do everything to convert the cool people. Get the cheerleaders and the football players to come to Bible study and everyone else will follow. There is not as much of a focus on those who are really broken. But I would rather hear stories like the woman at the well’s.

It not that the popular don’t have something to share, but the broken often have more credibility because you know they are not putting on. You know that they are not pretentious about their faith. You know that they have been put into the light and have had the guts to be changed by it. God often chooses the weak, for his strength is made perfect through weakness.

Author Brian Dodd tells an old Indian parable about a water bearer with two water pots that hung on opposite ends of a pole that he carried around his neck. One of the pots had a crack and another one was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream to the master’s house. The cracked pot arrived only half full. For two full years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water for his master’s house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments and the cracked pot was embarrassed that it could only produce half of what it was supposed to do.

After two years the cracked pot spoke to the water bearer and said, ‘I am ashamed that I can only deliver half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak all the way back to your master’s house.

The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and said, ‘as we return to the master’s house, I want you to notice something you may have missed along the path.’ As they went up the hill, the cracked pot noticed the sun warming the beautiful wildflowers on the side of the path, but it still felt bad that at the end of the trail, it still leaked half of its load.

But the bearer said to the pot, ‘Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of the path, but not on the other pot’s side? That’s because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and everyday while we walk back from the stream, you’ve watered them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my master’s table. Without you being just the way you are, he would not have this beauty to grace his house.’

God often uses the broken and even has a purpose for their brokenness, like the woman at the well, to make something beautiful. She responded to Jesus the way no one else does—she immediately started to spread the gospel. She does so knowing her brokenness and sin. But God made from her brokenness something beautiful.

A key challenge for us is to find where Samaria is in our world. Where are the broken? Where are the places and who are the people we are afraid to interact with? There is a church down the road who has decided that Cherry Creek is not worth trying to evangelize. There is a church in LA that has decided it will not exceed a certain number because it has deliberately decided to be an international church.

One last observation. Lent is about repentance and change. What did repentance look like to the woman at the well? Did she start weeping and hitting herself with sticks when she realized that Jesus saw right through her? What did her repentance look like? she simply walked away with joy from her former life. John points out that she forgot all about the water she had come for. Jesus filled her broken and cracked cup with living water. And then she could hardly contain herself. The living water welled up within her and she couldn’t keep it to herself. ‘Come and see the man, who knew everything about me. Could this be the messiah?’ Because of her, the gospel reached where the disciples could not have reached. The gospel reached the unreachable Samaritans because one woman dared to be exposed to the light and changed. She dared to take the cup of living water because she believed Jesus could change her.

What about us? Can we handle being in the light of Christ, knowing all that we are and all that we are not? Can we be filled with living water in our broken and cracked cups or is it too much to bear? Can we be healed by Jesus, or has the pain or prosperity of life taken away our ability to even know how thirsty we really are? As the old song goes, ‘there is a fountain that never shall run dry.’ In the words of Christ, ‘Whoever drinks of the water I give you will never thirst. The water that I shall give you will become in you a fountain of water springing up into everlasting life.’ Are we able to take the cup of living water? Can we, like the woman at the well, walk away from our former selves and walk in the joy and freedom of Christ?

In the words of Joyce Rupp:Love waits to heal. All he wants to do is change our lives. All he wants to do is give us freedom. All he wants to do is give us living water.

Ash Wednesday
2008

You have come today perhaps by some instinct that Lent is a good thing.  We know that last night Mardi Gras was celebrated throughout the world by many who have never even heard of Shrove Tuesday and who have no desire to even think about Lent.  We live in a world of pleasure and entertainment, not a world of repentance and fasting.  We live in a world where pleasure is a right and difficulty is an inconvenience.

Maybe now, more than ever, we need Lent.

Prior to the 4th century, the early Christians had a strict, three year training period for baptism.  It was serious business to be a Christian because it was a life or death decision.  At the beginning of the 4th century, with the emperor Constantine putting an end to the persecution of Christians, the training period for baptism was changed from three years to the 7 weeks before Easter.  This became also a time for those who had renounced Christ during the age of persecution to come back to the church, undergoing a time of prayer and fasting.

Many have reduced Lent to a time when we give up candy or chocolate and that’s not a bad thing.  We certainly to not need more candy or chocolate in our lives.  However, what brings us to the heart of Lenten discipline are Jesus’ words: ‘For wherever your treasure is, there your heart will be also.’

How do you know where your heart is?  Easy.  How do you spend your time?  How do you know where your treasure is?  Easy.  How do you spend your time?

TV time.  Work time.  Family time.  Tinker time.  Fun time.  Me time.  God time?

Jesus says, ‘when you fast, when you pray, when you give alms.’  He says ‘when’ and not ‘if.’  The greatest thing you can give the Lord is your time.  Time in doing what is right.  Time in giving money and skills, time in prayer and fasting, and studying the Scriptures.

I have to say that if Jesus were to preach to us today, his emphasis would not be on our self-righteousness, but our lack of desire for righteousness.

Maybe to us he would say, ‘When you get that smudge on your head, leave it on, maybe then you’ll have to talk about your faith!’ ‘When you fast and pray, hey, when’s the last time you fasted and prayed?’ ‘When you give alms, hey, when’s the last time you helped someone in need?’

What Jesus describes as prayer, fasting and almsgiving are meant to help us gain an eternal perspective.  We pray because we believe there is someone on the other end listening.  We believe there is someone on the other end who is not controlled by our space and time.

We fast so we can take ourselves away from the American consumer and food addiction.  The bread of heaven and the cup of salvation become our food.  The nourishment of the Word of God becomes our staple.

We give alms so we won’t store up treasures on earth, but in heaven.  We give alms so we can invest in eternity. As C. S. Lewis said, “All that is not eternal is eternally useless.”  More than ever we need to be aware of the suffering of our world and do our part to bring Jesus into it and alleviate it.  This Lent, perhaps read some books that will shake you out of our cultural selfishness.  There is a book called Left To Tell: Discovering God Amidst the Rwandan Holocaust by Immaculee Ilibagiza or God Grew Tired of Us by Jon Dau which tells the story of the Lost Boys of Sudan.

Prayer. Fasting. Almsgiving.

Why Lent?  Augustine said, ‘Love God and do as you please.’  In other words, when you love God and draw near to him, there is no question about what will please you–his word and his will.  Lent is a chance for us to draw near to him and a chance to evaluate our relationship with Christ.  It is a time for perspective of the fleetingness of our lives.  For we are dust, and to dust we shall return.

Last Epiphany 2008

What we have this morning is the ultimate Epiphany.  It is the story of the Transfiguration.
Last week we talked about Epiphany as a season of contemplation–and disruption.  On the mountain we have both.

This remarkable event most likely took place on the mountain known as Mt. Tabor outside of the city of Jerusalem.  You know the story well.  This is an endorsement of the highest kind pertaining to Jesus’ identity and his mission.  Here he is endorsed by Moses, Elijah, and God the Father himself.

The scene echoes Moses’ experience on Mt. Sinai after receiving the Law from the finger of God.  Moses’ face shone with the glory of God and the children of Israel could barely look on his face.

Mt. Tabor becomes the new Sinai and Jesus shines, not from an outside glory, but from a glory that is within.  When the people ask in Matthew 7, after Jesus has preached the sermon on the mount, who is this?  He speaks with authority, not as the scribes and Pharisees! This text is an obvious answer to that question.

If the readers of the gospels have any doubt as to who Jesus is, Moses reminds them that Jesus transcends the Law.  Elijah reminds readers that Jesus transcends the prophets.  Elijah is also the penultimate sign from the writings of the prophets that the end is near, that in Jesus the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.

Remember that when Moses died, only God knew where he was buried and Elijah was taken to heaven in a chariot of fire–having escaped death.  Both of these figures in Jewish tradition are figures of their own time, but are also figures of the Kingdom to come.  Here they are, talking to Jesus about his ‘departure’ or his Exodus (using more Old Testament imagery), which is Jesus’ journey where?  To the cross.

Matthew, Mark and Luke all emphasize Peter’s confusion as to what is going on here.  This is important because the Transfiguration occurs after Peter’s confession that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God.  It also follows Jesus’ prediction of his own death and his teaching that all who would follow him would have to take up their cross as well.  Peter, of course is rebuked because he doesn’t want Jesus to face the scandal of the cross.  Matthew records Jesus’ words to Peter, “Away from me Satan, you are an offense to me, for you are not mindful of the things of God, but the things of men.”

The Transfiguration is a scene of irony.  Jesus’ exodus for the salvation of Israel and humanity began in a manger and ended on the cross.  Most of his life he had nowhere to lay his head and lived in humility.  The Transfiguration is a glimpse of Christ’s divinity amidst his poverty, of his glory amidst his lowliness.  It shows us the heights that he has descended for the ultimate Exodus, the salvation of all who would put their trust in him.

There are two themes we need to concentrate on this morning they come directly from God the Father himself within the cloud: “This is my beloved Son.  Listen to him.”

First, the first part of the phrase: ‘This is my beloved Son.’  The imagery around the Transfiguration is very important.  A cloud envelops Jesus.  This kind of cloud in the Old Testament represents God’s ‘Shekinah,’ or his ‘Chabod,’ that is, his glory.  For Moses, the glory came from above, for Jesus, the glory comes from within.

One scholar says that glory, in the OT, ‘implies more than a disclosure by God of who he is.  It  implies an invasion of the material universe, an expression of God’s active presence among his people.”  The cloud of glory is often associated with the Temple or the tabernacle, the presence of God among men.

Jesus transcends the tabernacle and the Temple, the Law and the Prophets, Moses and Elijah.  Jesus does not ask for a booth alongside the others.  God’s presence is most evident in Jesus Christ because he is God become human flesh.  ‘This is my beloved Son.’

We have a familiarity around Jesus that is not good.  He is a commodity in our culture just like anything else.  Chris saw a bumper sticker the other day: ‘I found Jesus: behind my couch.’  He sells shirts and movies.  He is too familiar–even among Christians.  What did the disciples do when they say Jesus in all his glory?  They said, ‘whassup JC?’  No—they ‘fell face down.’  They were terrified.  Peter stumbled and bumbled because he was afraid.

Mid 20th century there was a push to talk about God’s stern-ness and his judgement.  Then, late 20th century and early 21st century, there is a push to talk about the milktoast, teddy bear savior.

In the Scriptures, people weren’t afraid of God because they were afraid he didn’t ‘like’ them.  They feared God because God  transcends our categories and understanding. He ain’t like us.  A glimpse of the glory of Jesus ought to be terrifying–not because he is not loving, but because his love is on a different plane and in a different category.  He is light shining in a dark place and everything else is dark in comparison.

‘This is my beloved Son.’

The second point.  ‘This is my beloved Son.  Listen to him.’  Whenever you read a story in the gospels, it is important to read and study how things are arranged because then you will learn what the gospel writers are trying to emphasize.  The question you should ask is ‘what, in particular, should we listen to?’  Of course all of Jesus’ teachings are indispensable, but in this context, God the Father is pointing to Jesus’ teachings about the cross and more specifically, Christ’s teachings about discipleship.

Discipleship is an overused word in church circles, what does it mean?  It is rabbinic language from the Jewish tradition that means, to follow and to emulate.  If the master, the rabbi, the teacher say ‘jump,’ you jump.  If he says ‘go’ you go.  Where he goes, you go.  If there is any doubt in the disciples minds that Jesus is worthy of listening to and following, the Transfiguration dispels those doubts.  But they and we, must open our hearts to the greatness of this master, this rabbi, this teacher.  In fact, we need a new heart to follow him.  One writer says, “to fathom the Transfiguration requires something other than words, it takes a new heart.  A new heart leads us to sit at Jesus’ feet, ready to learn and listen…our walk with God requires a different way of assessing the world and expects a distinct perspective on moral values…”  To listen to Jesus is to change our heart and to change our life.  Jesus said as much.
“If anyone would come after me, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily, and follow me.  For whoever desires to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for my sake will save it.  For what profit is it to gain the world and lose your soul?”

‘This is my beloved Son.  Listen to him.’

Jesus’ words are more than love and tolerance.  They are a disruption! They are an invasion on all of our values and all of our instincts.  ‘Take up your cross, lose your life.’  To hear his words we must have a new heart and a new life.  The secularism of this world is not only non-Christian, it militates against all that is Christian.  British thinker Os Guiness says, ‘Americans with a purely secular view of life have too much to live with, too little to life for.  Everything is permitted and nothing is important.’

Because of this secularism, we need to, as the late Russian priest Father Alexander Schmemann has said, ‘…to see once again what we have forgotten how to see; to feel what we no longer feel; to experience what we are no longer capable of expressing.’

‘This is my beloved Son.  Listen to him.’

Our goals as a parish should be: to be committed followers of Jesus who train committed followers of Jesus who make committed followers of Jesus.  But it takes a new heart and new lives to do so.  We cannot pass along what we ourselves do not have.  We cannot ask anyone to take up the cross if we have not taken up the cross ourselves.  We cannot ask anyone to have a relationship with Christ if we don’t have one ourselves.

This Jesus ought to give us a new world-view altogether.

Lent begins this Wednesday.  It is not 40 days of guilt or giving up Mr. Goodbars.  It is an opportunity.  Easter is the feast of feasts in our Christian Tradition.  But you can’t feast unless you fast.  This Lent is our opportunity to ‘listen.’  We have New Testaments on MP3s for everyone in our church and it is a chance to listen to the whole NT in 40 days, 28 minutes a day.
We can’t listen to Christ if we are not in his word.  I had a spiritual formation class as a part of my doctoral studies and we were challenged to memorize a large portion of Scripture.  I memorized Luke 6:20-36 and I would recommend that you try something like that as well.  It is amazing that memorizing Scripture allows us internalize it in a way that nothing else can.  I don’t mean a verse here and there for fighting others, I mean a chunk–10 to 15 verses at a time to make it yours.

I read your surveys and beginning next week will have a class called ‘The whys and hows of Lent’ to maximize our practice of Lent.  I also have a couple of guest speakers to come to both services to challenge us to think of Lent as also a time to consider the needs of others.  No one will be asking for money by the way.

Another way to ‘listen to Jesus’ is to consider what he is doing in our community…

Epiphany 2A
Matthew 3
Our gospel reading this morning is very key in our Epiphanytide.  It is a commemoration of the baptism of our Lord, which in some traditions is the key Epiphany event.  Those in the Christian East do an annual ‘Blessing of the Waters’ for Epiphany, which for them is ‘Theophany.’  The water is blessed as a reclamation of the waters of the Jordan that Jesus sanctified and consecrated–a preemptive blessing of our own baptismal waters.

One of the greatest gifts of Christian Liturgy, wonderfully written in our Prayer Book is the liturgy for baptism.  It is a crystal clear description of the Christian life, its beliefs and what is expected of us as disciples of Jesus.  We look at baptism often as a one-time deal but it is really a covenant that we enter into with God of and for all of life.

But let’s get back to Jesus’ baptism.  What was happening?  Why was Jesus baptized and why is this an Epiphany event?  Matthew fasts forward from the Holy Family’s settling in Nazareth to the ministry of John the Baptist.  In many ways, Matthew portrays Jesus as the ‘new Moses,’ who supplants and fulfils everything that Moses and the prophets wrote and spoke about.  So the key term for Matthew is the term ‘fulfill.’  When the Holy Family fled to Egypt as refugees Matthew says it is a ‘fulfilling’ of the prophet Hosea who said, ‘out of Egypt I will cal my Son.  When John questions Jesus’ desire to be baptized, Jesus says it is to ‘fulfill’ all righteousness.

This is very important.  All the hopes and dreams of Israel’s messiah are fulfilled in Jesus Christ.  ‘I have not come to abolish the Law,’ says Jesus in the sermon on the mount, ‘but to fulfill it.’  God is with us in Jesus.  He fulfills the expectations of the messiah but he even goes further, he is God in the flesh.  There is a wonderful portrayal of the Trinity in this passage.  The Father speaks his approval, the Son is baptized and the Spirit descends on Jesus like a dove.

Jesus is the second member of the Trinity and this baptismal picture is echoed at the end of Matthew, when Jesus commands his disciples to ‘make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.’

There is more than a prophet, more than a man, even more than a messiah here; this is Immanuel, Christ the Lord.  This bold claim has been challenged for 2000 years.  Be sure that when Easter rolls around this year someone will come up with some kind of so-called new discovery of the ‘true’ identity of Jesus.  We had the DaVinci code, we had the gospel of Judas, we had the director of Titanic say that he found the bones of Jesus.

A Muslim scholar was disappointed a few years back when he went to debate with Christian scholars in Europe and he won so easily because they all said, ‘Oh that Trinity thing, the divinity of Christ, we don’t believe that anymore.’

What did Jesus say?  Be careful when someone claims says ‘I am he.’  It is possible to use the name of Jesus and to have the wrong Jesus altogether.  Matthew is clear–this is God with us, this is the second member of the Trinity, this is Christ the Lord.

That, my friends, is an Epiphany.  Or a ‘Theophany’ which means a ‘revealing of God.’  There are some points of theology that are debatable, but when it comes to the manifestation of God, the incarnation of God in Jesus Christ, we must proclaim it loud and clear.  This is my beloved Son!  Listen to him!

But there is the age-old question which John the Baptist began, why does Jesus need to be baptized to begin with?  He should be the one doing the baptizing.  He should be the one making the rules, not submitting to someone else.

Two reasons why Jesus is baptized.  The first is a theological one important to the gospel writers.  In essence, John was the last of the Old Testament prophets.  He was ‘Elijah’ in the scheme of biblical prophecy.  So, it makes sense for the representative of the Old Testament to be giving credence to the messiah.  In essence, through John, it is a final commissioning of Jesus by the whole Old Testament tradition.

But there is another reason that relates directly to all of humanity.

Remember, John has prepared for us a powerful figure (military conqueror? ancient warrior like David? Prophet?) –yet here is Jesus who is from insignificant Galilee, wanting to baptized with everyone else.

To follow God’s upside down pattern, Jesus is not taking over the world in his first year of ministry.  He is among his people, in their weakness, in their foibles, in their insignificance.

One author says, “As Jesus goes into the waters of baptism, he identifies with his people in their need; that is, he identifies with the sinful humanity he has come to save…”

Leon Morris: ‘He was down there with the sinners, affirming his solidarity with them, making himself one with them in the process of salvation that he would in due course accomplish.’

Jesus, by being baptized was not only commissioned, he was identifying himself with the world he had come to save in all of its poverty–both material and spiritual.  His ministry was truly incarnational, among the little people of Galilee, rather than in Rome or even in Jerusalem.

There is much we can say here.  Remember when we talked about Jesus radical call to discipleship.  He said, ‘no servant is greater than his master,’ and that was spelled out in the events of John the Baptist himself, who was killed for his faith in Christ.

But if it is true in the death of Christ, that if Christ was crucified, why are we surprised if Christians around the world are martyred, then it is also true in the life of Christ.  That is, if he identified and was among the materially and spiritually poor, then so must we.
This brings us back to our vocation as the Church of the Epiphany, who is defined by the ‘Epiphanies’ in the gospel.  If Jesus’ baptism is an identification with humanity in all of its sin and brokenness, and that this is an ‘Epiphany,’ what then are we to do?  No servant is greater than his or her master.

I read recently of a new movement among younger Christians that some are calling a ‘neo-monasticism.’  It is a movement that some are undertaking to have a greater and more radical impact on poverty stricken communities.  Shane Claireborne has written a book called the Irresistible Revolution in which he describes a community that he and some of his friends started to be an intentional Christian community in inner city Philadelphia.  They all live simple lives (they call their community the Simple Way) and they help the homeless and the downtrodden in Philadelphia.  The house they purchased was a crack house and place of prostitution which they transformed into a place of peace and simplicity.  There are other places like Clairborne’s in Jersey and North Carolina and it is beginning a welcomed trend–to live incarnationally as Jesus did.  I know of a couple of churches renting apartments in the slums even here in Denver to transform neighborhoods.  This is to live as Jesus did, to identify with the impoverished by living among them.

Not everyone is called to this, but I hope that someone is.  I hope that there is someone even among us here who is willing to live like Jesus did.  Maybe it is not living among the poor, but have the poor live with us, I don’t know.

But for most of us, we live in a different kind of world.  Notice that I have intentionally used the phrase, ‘materially and spiritually impoverished.’  While the needs of the poor and the downtrodden are legion, and we need to be at the forefront in this area—the needs of the spiritually poor are even greater.  By the spiritually poor, I do not mean the ‘poor in spirit’ that Jesus refers to.  He is referring to those who are humble of heart.  The spiritually poor are the spiritually broken or impoverished.  In fact they are the ones who inhabit the world we live in.  They are the ones who have everything they want in terms of material things, yet they are the ones who are blind to their own poverty.

We can identify with them because it is where many of us are.  Who needs God when you’ve worked hard to get ahead in the world?  Who needs God when we can extend adolescence into our 40s?  Who needs God when there is so much fun to be had–even if it is of the ‘good clean’ variety?

Our task as Epiphany is to be a challenge to that mind set.  Our task is to find the way in which we are called by God to be different and to run with it.

Next week we are having a bishop from the Sudan visit us.  I think this is an indication that we are becoming more and more different as a parish community.  That this church would be the one he would want to visit is an indication that we are making a difference, that there is something about Epiphany…