Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.” Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went toward the tomb. The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in. Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, and the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself. Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead. Then the disciples returned to their homes.
But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni!” (which means Teacher). Jesus said to her, “Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’” Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord”; and she told them that he had said these things to her. John 20:1-18 (NRSV)
Grace and peace to you from our resurrected Lord, our Good Shepherd, our Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.
One of the gifts that our shared ministry has brought to us has been the move to the Narrative Lectionary in both of our congregations. This has, at least for us, and I think for you at Shiloh, too--it has allowed us, first, to dwell more deeply into the rich traditions and stories of the Hebrew scriptures. Which were the traditions that Jesus and his disciples came out of.
It has also allowed us to dwell more deeply in one gospel. Often, in the Revised Common Lectionary, we would jump between Gospels, especially during festival times, such as Easter and Christmas. Dwelling deeply in John this year has helped to open up for me and, hopefully, for you, this Fourth Gospel that we know as John.
Here, at Grace and Glory, there has been a small group of us who have been more deeply immersing ourselves in John outside of what we have heard on Sunday mornings. One of the things that we’ve noticed in this gospel is the importance of location. Jesus moves around a lot. From Galilee to Jerusalem and back. And to places in between.
So, as I was reading our text for tonight in chapter 20 of John and as I was preparing to preach, it was impossible for me to ignore its location. A garden.
Now, unlike the synoptic Gospels, John’s garden is not the Garden of Gethsemane. It is simply, a garden. It’s first mentioned in chapter 18, shortly before his arrest. (Jn 18:1-2)
This garden, in John, is a place where Jesus and his disciples frequently went. A place for them to be together. To hang out. To be friends. It was a place of intimacy. A place of relationship.
It was also a place of safety. When Judas comes to betray Jesus, along with the soldiers and the Jewish police, Jesus goes out of the garden to meet them. Leaving the rest of the disciples behind.
And even when the altercation happens between Peter and Malchus, and Peter cuts off his ear, this occurs just outside the garden where the rest of the disciples remain, free from the violence that has just occurred.
Safe. Protected from harm. One’s mind goes back to the words that Jesus has spoken in an earlier discourse in chapter 10: “I am the gate of the sheep. Whoever enters through me will be saved. They will come in and go out and find pasture. They will have life. Abundant life.”
But the garden and its immediate surroundings are not only the setting for Jesus’ arrest, but also for his crucifixion and his burial. (Jn 19:41-42).
This is typical for John. Just when we have a sense of place--that this garden is a place of safety and security, of intimacy and relationship, the gospel writer tosses in a contrast. This place of life and relationship is also a place of death and the seeming end of intimacy.
John does this so well, this juxtaposition of contrasts: death and life, darkness and light, incarnation and ascension, humanity and divinity. All held so tightly together.
But the crucifixion and burial are not the end of John’s use of this location. It’s the setting for our text tonight. Mary comes to the tomb. Sees it open. And runs back to tell Peter and the beloved disciple that Jesus’ body has been taken away.
Then, interestingly, Mary returns to the tomb. In the garden. She meets the angels. And then, unknowingly, meets Jesus. In the garden. So, it's no surprise that she should mistake him for the gardener.
By locating the crucifixion and burial and first resurrection appearance in a garden, the gospel writer has taken us full circle back to the opening words of this Gospel. “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God.” But, not only full circle to the beginning of John, but way back to Genesis--the reading we heard tonight. “In the beginning, God created…” And it brings our mind back to that first garden--the Garden of Eden. The place where God and God’s human creations abided together. Intimately. Lovingly. Abundantly.
This is what the resurrection points to and, particularly, the resurrection that is located in a garden. It is a message of life. Of abundant life with God. Of abiding. And intimacy. Of love and relationship.
While death may be the reality of life, resurrection is the promise that death is not the final end of life. That out of the darkness comes light. And life. Resurrection is nothing short of re-creation.
In the garden of the resurrection that morning, this is what Mary discovered. When, Jesus called her by name, there was recognition and intimacy. But, more than that, there was a re-defining for Mary. A re-creation of who she was. “Rabbouni,” she calls Jesus, using the very same title that the first disciples gave him. “Teacher,” she called him. Recognizing now that she, too, has been called as Jesus’ disciples. Because in John there are no set categories for who can be a disciple.
On this Easter eve, may you, too, hear your call from Jesus. Your own unique call. And may you live into it just as Mary did--as God’s new creation with a message to be shared with all the world. A message of love and intimacy and relationship. A message safety and hope. A message of life--of abundant life. Amen.
Fully. Intimately. Abundantly. As God’s new creation with a to be shared with all the world. Amen.
Preached March 31, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Easter Vigil
Readings: Genesis 1:1-2:4a; Genesis 7:1-5, 11-18; 8:6-18; 9:8-13; Exodus 14:10-31; 15:20-21; Daniel 3:1-29; Romans 6:3-11; John 20:1-18
Showing posts with label garden. Show all posts
Showing posts with label garden. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 4, 2018
Saturday, March 24, 2018
Finding Courage
So the soldiers, their officer, and the Jewish police arrested Jesus and bound him. First they took him to Annas, who was the father-in-law of Caiaphas, the high priest that year. Caiaphas was the one who had advised the Jews that it was better to have one person die for the people.
Simon Peter and another disciple followed Jesus. Since that disciple was known to the high priest, he went with Jesus into the courtyard of the high priest, but Peter was standing outside at the gate. So the other disciple, who was known to the high priest, went out, spoke to the woman who guarded the gate, and brought Peter in. The woman said to Peter, “You are not also one of this man’s disciples, are you?” He said, “I am not.” Now the slaves and the police had made a charcoal fire because it was cold, and they were standing around it and warming themselves. Peter also was standing with them and warming himself.
Then the high priest questioned Jesus about his disciples and about his teaching. Jesus answered, “I have spoken openly to the world; I have always taught in synagogues and in the temple, where all the Jews come together. I have said nothing in secret. Why do you ask me? Ask those who heard what I said to them; they know what I said.” When he had said this, one of the police standing nearby struck Jesus on the face, saying, “Is that how you answer the high priest?” Jesus answered, “If I have spoken wrongly, testify to the wrong. But if I have spoken rightly, why do you strike me?” Then Annas sent him bound to Caiaphas the high priest.
Now Simon Peter was standing and warming himself. They asked him, “You are not also one of his disciples, are you?” He denied it and said, “I am not.” One of the slaves of the high priest, a relative of the man whose ear Peter had cut off, asked, “Did I not see you in the garden with him?” Again Peter denied it, and at that moment the cock crowed. John 18:12-17 (NRSV)
Grace and peace to you from God, our Creator, and our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.
Have you ever made a huge mistake? A mistake so big that at the time it seemed devastating. That, perhaps, you may be able to laugh about now, but that was incredibly painful at the time. That assumes, of course, that we admitted our mistake. I know that, in my life, there are a few that took me a long time to admit my mistake, stubborn as I am.
So, what is one of your memorable mistakes? We’re going to do something a little different today to begin with. I would invite you to think about one of those mistakes and then, if you are comfortable, sharing it with one or two people near you. Particularly, share the feelings and experiences that came out of this mistake. Please allow enough time for each person in your small group to share. And, if this feels uncomfortable for you, simply take time to silently reflect on your mistake and how you felt. Let’s take a few minutes now and do this.
As human beings, we are perfectly imperfect. Mistakes are woven into each of our stories. In our lesson today, we heard the story of Peter--a disciple who made a mistake in his journey following Jesus. Peter, who is someone I suspect, might just be a little like us.
Today’s story opens in a garden on one side of the Kidron Valley--the opposite side from Jerusalem. Location is always important in the Gospel of John. To get to this garden, Jesus and his disciples would have had to cross over the valley. This valley--the Kidron Valley--is the place in the Old Testament where David fled from Absalom, his son. Tradition describes it as the valley of judgment. This shift--this crossing over the Kidron Valley--is a signal to us that our story has shifted to Jesus’ judgment and condemnation. But, not only Jesus. In John, the Greek word for judgment is krisis. It literally means a crisis. That point in one’s life when one has to make a decision about something really important. A decision that, if it is wrong, can lead to self-judgment and self-condemnation.
So, our story has only shifted to the time of Jesus’ judgment and condemnation. But, not only his. Over these next few weeks, leading to Jesus’ crucifixion, we will see that no one will be spared examination.
We are in a garden with Jesus and his disciples. It is not the first time they’ve been there. In fact, this garden is a place that Jesus and his disciples have frequented. For them, it is a place where they have hung out together. A place of conversation. A place of deep intimacy and relationship between Jesus and the disciples.
In the verses preceding today’s story, Judas has come with a cohort of Roman soldiers and a few guards from the Jewish Sanhedrin. The group numbered over 600--this was no small number of Roman soldiers and Jewish police. Roman soldiers and Jewish police breaking into this intimate gathering place of Jesus and his disciples. Like the world that constantly breaks into our own communities of faith.
They arrest Jesus. They bind him and take him away to Annas. The questioning begins.
What’s particularly interesting is that in our story there is simultaneous questioning of both Jesus and Peter. Annas questions Jesus. At the same time, Peter is questioned by a servant woman. Both are, effectively, on trial at the same time. The truth about each is being revealed.
Peter is first. “Aren’t you one of this man’s disciples?” the servant woman asks him. Notice that, unlike the other three gospels, she doesn’t ask him if he knows Jesus. Instead, here she asks if Peter is one of his disciples.
“I am not.” This is Peter’s response. “I am not.” Think of how this contrasts with all of Jesus’ “I am” statements that we been considering during this Lenten season. “I AM the Bread of Life.” “I AM the Light of the World.” “I AM the Door.” “I AM the Good Shepherd.” “I AM the resurrection and the life.” “I AM.”
In saying, “I am not,” Peter is not only denying Jesus. Peter is denying his own identity as a disciple of Jesus. Peter, who, to all outward appearances, would be a loyal disciple, denies--three times he denies--that he is one of Jesus’ disciples. This most adamant of disciples. One who wouldn’t let Jesus wash his feet because he wanted to protect Jesus’ status as Messiah. One who, when the soldiers and police came to arrest Jesus, quickly drew a sword to defend him, cutting off the ear of Malchus--the high priest’s slave. Peter, the most disciple-like of all of Jesus’ disciples, standing at the charcoal fire with servants and guards, joining them. Denying his own identify as one of Jesus’ followers. Not just once. But three times. And then the rooster crowed. And Peter knew what he had done.
It didn’t end there for Peter. After the resurrection, once again around a charcoal fire, Peter took his place beside Jesus, heard the words of forgiveness and claimed his promise--the promise of life even in the midst of our failures and our limitations. And, after Jesus’ ascension, Peter would courageously and boldly go forth, proclaiming the Good News, and would eventually be martyred.
The chances of our own martyrdom are slight. Yet, how often are we like Peter? How often do we not only deny Jesus, but deny our very relationship with him. When the world comes breaking into our lives and asks us, “Aren’t you a disciple of Jesus?” we fail completely. Deeply flawed and fearful, just as Peter was, we fail in our own witness to Jesus, denying the intimacy of our relationship with him as his disciples. Saying “I am not” even as Jesus is saying “I am.” Over and over again in our fear and weakness.
And then the rooster crows. The Spirit works on our hearts to turn us back around. To lead us here, where together as Jesus’ broken disciples we gather and confess our failures. Vulnerable. Standing in the role of Peter in our own confession, we come to terms with who we are. We tell the truth about ourselves. And, then, we hear the same words Peter heard--Jesus’ words of forgiveness and promise of life, even in the midst of our sin and brokenness.
May we, then, continue to be like Peter. To go boldly into the world, to proclaim the Good News in our words and action, and to offer Jesus’ words of forgiveness and promise. Fearlessly. Courageously.
Amen.
Simon Peter and another disciple followed Jesus. Since that disciple was known to the high priest, he went with Jesus into the courtyard of the high priest, but Peter was standing outside at the gate. So the other disciple, who was known to the high priest, went out, spoke to the woman who guarded the gate, and brought Peter in. The woman said to Peter, “You are not also one of this man’s disciples, are you?” He said, “I am not.” Now the slaves and the police had made a charcoal fire because it was cold, and they were standing around it and warming themselves. Peter also was standing with them and warming himself.
Then the high priest questioned Jesus about his disciples and about his teaching. Jesus answered, “I have spoken openly to the world; I have always taught in synagogues and in the temple, where all the Jews come together. I have said nothing in secret. Why do you ask me? Ask those who heard what I said to them; they know what I said.” When he had said this, one of the police standing nearby struck Jesus on the face, saying, “Is that how you answer the high priest?” Jesus answered, “If I have spoken wrongly, testify to the wrong. But if I have spoken rightly, why do you strike me?” Then Annas sent him bound to Caiaphas the high priest.
Now Simon Peter was standing and warming himself. They asked him, “You are not also one of his disciples, are you?” He denied it and said, “I am not.” One of the slaves of the high priest, a relative of the man whose ear Peter had cut off, asked, “Did I not see you in the garden with him?” Again Peter denied it, and at that moment the cock crowed. John 18:12-17 (NRSV)
Grace and peace to you from God, our Creator, and our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.
Have you ever made a huge mistake? A mistake so big that at the time it seemed devastating. That, perhaps, you may be able to laugh about now, but that was incredibly painful at the time. That assumes, of course, that we admitted our mistake. I know that, in my life, there are a few that took me a long time to admit my mistake, stubborn as I am.
So, what is one of your memorable mistakes? We’re going to do something a little different today to begin with. I would invite you to think about one of those mistakes and then, if you are comfortable, sharing it with one or two people near you. Particularly, share the feelings and experiences that came out of this mistake. Please allow enough time for each person in your small group to share. And, if this feels uncomfortable for you, simply take time to silently reflect on your mistake and how you felt. Let’s take a few minutes now and do this.
As human beings, we are perfectly imperfect. Mistakes are woven into each of our stories. In our lesson today, we heard the story of Peter--a disciple who made a mistake in his journey following Jesus. Peter, who is someone I suspect, might just be a little like us.
Today’s story opens in a garden on one side of the Kidron Valley--the opposite side from Jerusalem. Location is always important in the Gospel of John. To get to this garden, Jesus and his disciples would have had to cross over the valley. This valley--the Kidron Valley--is the place in the Old Testament where David fled from Absalom, his son. Tradition describes it as the valley of judgment. This shift--this crossing over the Kidron Valley--is a signal to us that our story has shifted to Jesus’ judgment and condemnation. But, not only Jesus. In John, the Greek word for judgment is krisis. It literally means a crisis. That point in one’s life when one has to make a decision about something really important. A decision that, if it is wrong, can lead to self-judgment and self-condemnation.
So, our story has only shifted to the time of Jesus’ judgment and condemnation. But, not only his. Over these next few weeks, leading to Jesus’ crucifixion, we will see that no one will be spared examination.
We are in a garden with Jesus and his disciples. It is not the first time they’ve been there. In fact, this garden is a place that Jesus and his disciples have frequented. For them, it is a place where they have hung out together. A place of conversation. A place of deep intimacy and relationship between Jesus and the disciples.
In the verses preceding today’s story, Judas has come with a cohort of Roman soldiers and a few guards from the Jewish Sanhedrin. The group numbered over 600--this was no small number of Roman soldiers and Jewish police. Roman soldiers and Jewish police breaking into this intimate gathering place of Jesus and his disciples. Like the world that constantly breaks into our own communities of faith.
They arrest Jesus. They bind him and take him away to Annas. The questioning begins.
What’s particularly interesting is that in our story there is simultaneous questioning of both Jesus and Peter. Annas questions Jesus. At the same time, Peter is questioned by a servant woman. Both are, effectively, on trial at the same time. The truth about each is being revealed.
Peter is first. “Aren’t you one of this man’s disciples?” the servant woman asks him. Notice that, unlike the other three gospels, she doesn’t ask him if he knows Jesus. Instead, here she asks if Peter is one of his disciples.
“I am not.” This is Peter’s response. “I am not.” Think of how this contrasts with all of Jesus’ “I am” statements that we been considering during this Lenten season. “I AM the Bread of Life.” “I AM the Light of the World.” “I AM the Door.” “I AM the Good Shepherd.” “I AM the resurrection and the life.” “I AM.”
In saying, “I am not,” Peter is not only denying Jesus. Peter is denying his own identity as a disciple of Jesus. Peter, who, to all outward appearances, would be a loyal disciple, denies--three times he denies--that he is one of Jesus’ disciples. This most adamant of disciples. One who wouldn’t let Jesus wash his feet because he wanted to protect Jesus’ status as Messiah. One who, when the soldiers and police came to arrest Jesus, quickly drew a sword to defend him, cutting off the ear of Malchus--the high priest’s slave. Peter, the most disciple-like of all of Jesus’ disciples, standing at the charcoal fire with servants and guards, joining them. Denying his own identify as one of Jesus’ followers. Not just once. But three times. And then the rooster crowed. And Peter knew what he had done.
It didn’t end there for Peter. After the resurrection, once again around a charcoal fire, Peter took his place beside Jesus, heard the words of forgiveness and claimed his promise--the promise of life even in the midst of our failures and our limitations. And, after Jesus’ ascension, Peter would courageously and boldly go forth, proclaiming the Good News, and would eventually be martyred.
The chances of our own martyrdom are slight. Yet, how often are we like Peter? How often do we not only deny Jesus, but deny our very relationship with him. When the world comes breaking into our lives and asks us, “Aren’t you a disciple of Jesus?” we fail completely. Deeply flawed and fearful, just as Peter was, we fail in our own witness to Jesus, denying the intimacy of our relationship with him as his disciples. Saying “I am not” even as Jesus is saying “I am.” Over and over again in our fear and weakness.
And then the rooster crows. The Spirit works on our hearts to turn us back around. To lead us here, where together as Jesus’ broken disciples we gather and confess our failures. Vulnerable. Standing in the role of Peter in our own confession, we come to terms with who we are. We tell the truth about ourselves. And, then, we hear the same words Peter heard--Jesus’ words of forgiveness and promise of life, even in the midst of our sin and brokenness.
May we, then, continue to be like Peter. To go boldly into the world, to proclaim the Good News in our words and action, and to offer Jesus’ words of forgiveness and promise. Fearlessly. Courageously.
Amen.
Preached March 4, 2018, at Grace & Glory Lutheran Church, Goshen, KY.
Third Sunday in Lent
Readings: Psalm 17:1-7, John 18:12-17
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