…As I was thinking this week about the world into which Jesus was born,

the idea of deep darkness, of staying awake to whatever light might come,

and of keeping eyes open even when they cannot see...

I found in some of my reading a comment from a monk.

"Attentiveness to God…is eyes that are open in the dark, the desire of love."    (A Carthusian)

And then it occurred to me that keeping one's eyes open in the dark

is an act of faith.

Though we can see nothing, we do expect, in time, to see something,

whether something we have seen many times before,

or something surprisingly new.

Faith keeps us open to all the possibilities.

And we can count on God to keep all the possibilities possible!

It was into a very dark world that the Messiah was born.

The faithful kept watch…

Image: Duccio, di Buoninsegna, -1319?. Birth of Christ, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=49174 [retrieved June 29, 2023]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Duccio_di_Buoninsegna_058.jpg.

As many of you know, I grew up on the Monopoly Board. I hail from a town called Ventnor, New Jersey right next to Atlantic City. I haven’t lived at the Jersey Shore since summer after I graduated college, but, except for the first year of the pandemic, I have managed to return at least once every year.

For years, the most exciting moment of the trip was when I rolled down my window to pay the last toll on the Atlantic City Expressway. We were still about five miles from the ocean, but the marshes and reeds of the Atlantic- infused inland waterway were on either side of the highway. The smell of the salt air—the smell of the ocean—was unfailingly intoxicating. There is nothing like it. There’s nothing like going home.

Seven of Jesus’ disciples have gone home. They, too, have returned to the sea—the Sea of Tiberias (another name for the Sea of Galilee). These are the days, probably the weeks after the resurrection of Jesus from the dead. In two of the gospels, Jesus has given word to the disciples that he will meet them in Galilee. So, as this story begins, the seven are gathered there…

Image: Koenig, Peter. Breakfast on the Beach, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=58541 [retrieved July 30, 2023]. Original source: Peter Winfried (Canisius) Koenig, https://www.pwkoenig.co.uk/.

Last December my family and I became captivated by a TV show called “1923,” a spin-off of the popular show “Yellowstone.” Focusing on the Dutton family, “1923” tells the stories of settlers and ranchers in Montana just before the great depression, including the wars between ranchers and those who herd sheep. It also tells the stories of Native American children who were subjected to the forced assimilation practices of the American Indian boarding schools. We see this unfold through the story of a young girl named Teonna Rainwater. The purpose of the schools was to teach these children that their native culture was wrong and disgusting, to “civilize” them by teaching them to embrace the American way of life and the dominant religion of the time, Christianity. They were forbidden to speak their native languages. They were forbidden to use the names they had been given, and forced to take new, “Christian” names. They were taught Western ways of dress, behavior, and speech through the use of brutal corporal punishment. When Teonna fails to learn the lesson of the day (making soap), she is beaten. When she disagrees with her teachers, she is beaten. When she refuses to answer to her Christian name, she is beaten.

Writers have described the show’s portrayal of these schools as, sadly, highly accurate. This kind of forced assimilation falls into the category of cultural genocide—the desire to completely wipe out a people and their culture by making them disappear into the majority populace, no longer in possession of their own customs, religion, or language.

I bring this up because there is something similarly sinister going on in our passage today from the Book of the prophet Daniel. It’s more subtle, but it is there. The three young men whose names are repeated so many times in our text—Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego—have been exiled to Babylon, where their captors are trying their best to take their religion, their culture, and even their names away from them…

Image: Konstantinos, Adrianoupolitis. Story of Daniel and the Three Youths in the Fiery Furnace, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=59128 [retrieved June 29, 2023]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Adrianoupolitis_Konstantinos_-_The_story_of_Daniel_and_the_Three_Youths_in_the_Fiery_Furnace_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg.

Poor Peter. What an awful moment. During a night of abject fear and, probably, panic, he has done something that—to be honest—affects him more than anybody else. He has lost himself. He has left himself. He has gone into hiding, in a certain way. He has denied he even knew Jesus, during the long night that will lead to Jesus being strung up on a tree. And he’s done it three times.

Simon Peter is one of the most fascinating characters in the gospels. The take we find on him in the gospel according to John is different from the other three gospels, but we can still see a continuity in how the man is portrayed. He comes to life for us.

Image: Bening, Simon, 1483 or 1484-1561. Peter's Denial, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56129 [retrieved June 29, 2023]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Simon_Bening_(Flemish_-_The_Denial_of_Saint_Peter_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg.

We don’t hear a lot from Leviticus around Union Presbyterian Church. I have never before preached from the Book of Leviticus. Ever. I have also never before preached a sermon which, quite by accident, happens to have the title of a song by the Bangles, which became a kind of soundtrack for me, writing this sermon.

Close your eyes, give me your hand, darling
Do you feel my heart beating?
Do you understand? Do you feel the same?
Am I only dreaming?
Is this burning an eternal flame?

Hear the longing of the singer—wanting to know what is happening in the relationship. Wanting to know where they stand, which is a sentiment very relevant to the passage I’ve just shared with you.

Image: Wesley, Frank, 1923-2002. Lily Resurrection, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=59246 [retrieved June 29, 2023]. Original source: Estate of Frank Wesley, http://www.frankwesleyart.com/main_page.htm.

Wesley was born in Azamgarh, Uttar Pradesh into a fifth generation Christian family of Hindu and Muslim descent. He belongs to the Lucknow school of painting. His paintings reflect this influence and that of the Chughtai school of painting that flourished in India at the turn of the century. Wesley made art based on both biblical and secular themes. He used water colours, oil paintings, miniatures and wooden carvings.

Last weekend a friend of mine invited a group of friends to her home to observe the summer solstice, a few days late. She has a recently created fire-pit, and we were the first to experience a fire there this summer. It was just beautiful. As the sun went down, the fire glowed more brightly, the fireflies (or lightning bugs, as I grew up calling them) came out, and a threatened storm cleared away to reveal a blanket of stars in the heavens.

There is something about a fire. Whether you are outside on a summer night or snuggled up in front of a hearth in the cold of winter, a fire is beautiful, inviting, even, somehow, mysterious. It’s hypnotic—the flicker of the flames and the snap of the wood as it burns are oddly soothing.

But as we know, fire is also dangerous. A fire requires caution and care to be the beautiful thing that can warm us and inspire good conversation (or even better, silence). The worst fires are those initiated by carelessness—we all know that, even when wildfires hundreds of miles away aren’t affecting our air quality and forcing us inside.

Welcome to this summer sermon series on fires in the Bible. As I mentioned a few minutes ago, on Pentecost Sunday, we explored the symbolism and meaning of those tongues of flame that settled on the disciples as the Holy Spirit initiated the work of the church. Today we have a very different kind of fire, but it is also one that sends God’s people out to do God’s work…

Image: Schumacher, Joe. Burning Bush, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=55954 [retrieved June 29, 2023]. Original source: https://www.flickr.com/photos/jschumacher/6386697855.

… We meet Sarah and Abraham in a liminal space today. Nearly twenty-five years have passed since God commanded (invited?) Abraham to get up and go, taking his wife Sarah, and trusting in God’s promise to do three things: to bring them to a new land that would be theirs; to make them a great nation (in other words, to make them patriarch and matriarch of a great people); and to bless them, so that they would be blessings to the whole world. So far, God had fulfilled only the first of these three promises, which has left this aging couple in an in-between space. They are not where they were in the beginning of their story; they are in a new land. But neither are they in the place—family, blessings—that they are supposed to be. They’re somewhere in between, in a kind of threshold space. This is what “liminal” means. Not where you were, but also, not where you are going—in every sense of the word…

Image: Master of James IV of Scotland, active 1488-1530. Abraham and the Three Angels, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56992 [retrieved May 31, 2023]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Master_of_James_IV_of_Scotland_(Flemish,_before_1465_-_about_1541)_-_Abraham_and_the_Three_Angels_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg.

“When the day of Pentecost had come,” it begins, “they were all together in one place.” Here’s the hidden context of that sentence: Jews were in Jerusalem to celebrate Pentecost. Which means, before there was a Christian Pentecost, there was a Jewish festival by the same name. So, they (Jesus’ friends and followers) were there, all together in one house. Pentecost is from the Greek word meaning “fifty,” for fifty days. The Hebrew name for the festival is Shavuot, which means “weeks.” Our Pentecost is fifty days after Easter, and Shavuot is seven weeks after the Passover. Our Jewish siblings celebrated Shavuot this week. It is the celebration of God giving the law, the Torah, to Moses, and Moses, in turn, giving the Torah to the people.

I learned about Shavuot years ago by reading a blog called “The Velveteen Rabbi.” Its author, Rabbi Rachel Barenblat, wrote that the customary celebration entails staying up all night studying the Torah and eating dairy-based desserts such as cheesecake, and ice cream, joyful reminders of the land of Israel, a “land flowing with milk and honey.” The sweet desserts connect to the deep love the people have for the Torah, itself, a sweet blessing from God. Barenblat describes how the celebration she had just attended drew to a close at about 3:30 AM. A brief closing ceremony consisted of “passing the Torah from person to person, each cradling her for a time, and then reciting a [blessing] to seal [their] study.”

When the Day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. We can assume the friends and followers of Jesus were observing Shavuot, cherishing the Torah and searching it, diligently, for signs of what God might have in store for them. They were wondering: What now? What’s next? Now we know exactly what was next: the sweet blessing of another Pentecost, the sending of the Holy Spirit upon Jesus’ people. This moment marks the birth of the church, the commissioning of us all, by the power of the Holy Spirit, to be God’s witnesses in the world…

Image: Kossowski, Adam. Veni Sancti Spiritus, Church of Saint Aloysius, London, Englad, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56946 [retrieved May 26, 2023]. Original source: https://www.flickr.com/photos/paullew/8750321716 - Fr Lawrence Lew, O.P..

Today feels different [from the other Sundays in the Easter season]. Today, we are reading from the first letter of Peter to congregations in trouble. In strife. In the midst of conflict—and it sounds like conflict or oppression from outside the community. It’s so bad, the letter uses the words “fiery ordeal.” People are suffering…

Image: Klee, Paul, 1879-1940. Joyful Mountain Landscape, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=55666 [retrieved April 22, 2023]. Original source: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Heitere_Gebirgslandschaft_by_Paul_Klee_1929.jpeg.

The book of Genesis ended with abundance. “God’s chosen people [were] safely settled in the richest area of Egypt with plenty of food in a time of famine.” Jacob was buried in Canaan. Joseph, the great Savior of his family, was laid to rest after promising that one day his people would return to the Promised Land. All was well. The book of Exodus opens recounting how the descendants of Jacob and Joseph multiplied.

Our narrative today begins with a new king coming to power. This Pharoah did not know Joseph and the story of provision he brought to the land. Without knowing the source of his blessing, the favored family of Jacob and Joseph became an oppressed subgroup within Pharoah’s empire…

Image: Birthing Stool, Spain, courtesy of the Gannon family.

After Jesus had spoken these words, he looked up to heaven and said, “Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you, since you have given him authority over all people, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him. And this is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent.
~John 17:1-3

…This morning we have shared what is easily the most well-known psalm in scripture, the psalm of the Good Shepherd. The psalm is paired with a long monologue of Jesus—called a discourse—in which he is explaining this image, and what it means. The image of the Good Shepherd is a lovely image—many of us find it comforting. Loving. Caring.

But there is also something unsettled, and unsettling, in this image. Psalm 23 is called a psalm of trust, and these psalms always emerge from a troubled context. The psalmist calls out to God in hopeful trust exactly because the psalmist is in the middle of some kind of dangerous or frightening situation. With King David as the author, we can imagine lots of possibilities for the context of this psalm. David was in trouble a lot. Maybe the psalm conjures memories from David’s time as a shepherd, before he was anointed king, and the psalm is about predators attacking the sheep. Maybe the psalm refers to his time as the leader of Israel, when he was both king and soldier. It could be a psalm written in the midst of war, referring to a battle, an attack, or an act of treason against the throne.

When we turn to the gospel reading, we find tension there, too…

Image: The Magic Apple Tree, Samuel Palmer, 1805-1881. From Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=58401 [retrieved January 27, 2023]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:The_Magic_Apple_Tree.jpg.

… In the grim early days of the pandemic my children and I took to making what we called “happiness playlists” of our favorite music, and in the process of doing that, I re-discovered the Preservation Hall Jazz Band’s rendition of “Just a Closer Walk with Thee.” When I learned that Chris was playing it this morning, I went back to those playlists, and there it was.

Just a closer walk with Thee,
Grant it, Jesus, is my plea,
Daily walking close to Thee,
Let it be, dear Lord, let it be…

Image: Jesus appears at Emmaus, 1973, JESUS MAFA, Cameroon, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=48275 [retrieved January 27, 2023]. Original source: http://www.librairie-emmanuel.fr (contact page: https://www.librairie-emmanuel.fr/contact).

This week we meet the whole group of Jesus’ friends and disciples, only they are closeted away behind locked doors. They are afraid.

This, honestly, is not how we expect to find the disciples. In last week’s reading, Mary met Jesus in the garden, greeted him with joy and astonishment and love, and was sent to bring the good news to this exact group. Here’s how that passage ended:

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 20:18

Why on earth do we find them, later that very same day, hiding?

Image: LeCompte, Rowan and Irene LeCompte, Washington National Cathedral, Washington, DC. Christ shows himself to Thomas, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=54879 [retrieved January 27, 2023]. Original source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/maryannsolari/5119341372/.

In early spring 1912 a pharmacist by the name of C. Austin Miles was in a cold, leaky basement in Pitman, New Jersey, meditating on the passage we have just read from the gospel of John. His great-granddaughter would later say that he basement didn’t even contain a window, let alone a view of a garden. Nevertheless, Miles was captivated by a vivid image that came to him. He later described it this way:

“As the light faded,” he said, “I seemed to be standing at the entrance of a garden, looking down a gently winding path, shaded by olive branches. A woman in white, with head bowed, hand clasping her throat, as if to choke back her sobs, walked slowly into the shadows. It was Mary.” He continues, “As she leaned her head upon her arm at the tomb, she wept. Turning herself, she saw Jesus standing. So did I. I knew it was He. She knelt before Him, with arms outstretched and looking into His face, cried, “Rabboni!”[i] 

This vision became…

I come to the garden alone
While the dew is still on the roses
And the voice I hear, falling on my ear
The Son of God discloses…

Image: Christ appears to Mary, MAFA Jesus Project, Cameroon, 1973 JESUS MAFA. Easter - Christ appears to Mary, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=48389 [retrieved January 27, 2023]. Original source: http://www.librairie-emmanuel.fr (contact page: https://www.librairie-emmanuel.fr/contact).

…This passage begins with a statement that Jesus knows his hour has come—that is to say, all events now are moving quickly to the cross. And then, the narrator says, “Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.”

Then, Jesus shows his friends, his disciples, what love looks like. He takes off his outer garment, and wraps a towel around his waist. He then proceeds to do something that makes that room thick with anxiety…

Image: Swanson, John August. Last Supper, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56552 [retrieved January 27, 2023]. Original source: Estate of John August Swanson, https://www.johnaugustswanson.com/.

…In the first chapter of the letter of Paul to the Philippians, Paul gives words of encouragement to the community in Philippi. He says things like, “Don’t worry about me.” He tells them how the Good News of Jesus’ Way has gotten out despite his being in prison. The soldiers, guards, and other prisoners are curious about this Messiah for whom he has been convicted. So now they know all about Jesus, because Paul has used this opportunity to preach some more, to win some souls. They didn’t shut him up, he boasts; they gave him another platform! He ends that chapter by encouraging them to live a life worthy of their calling—to keep doing what they have been doing all along. To stand firm in their faith. He tells them, “If I am executed, rejoice with me! I’ll be with Christ.”

But in the second chapter, the mood changes. Paul begins, if your trust in Jesus Christ has affected your life for the better—if he makes a difference in your life, makes you more loving and tender and sympathetic, if you are experiencing the presence of the Spirit—then do this one thing for me. Give me joy by being of the same mind as Jesus… and that’s where the hymn begins, the one the scholars call the Christ Hymn…

Image: Christ’s Entry into Jerusalem, Anonymous fresco, 1135-1140, Saint-Martin Church, Nohant-Vicq, France. Christ's Entry into Jerusalem, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=42426 [retrieved January 27, 2023]. Original source: image donated by Jim Womack and Anne Richardson.

… The author of this gospel probably collected a bunch of Jesus’s “greatest hits” into this one collection, Matthew chapters 5 through 7. This final chapter certainly sounds that way. Jesus goes, in quick succession, from the famous “do not judge, lest you be judged” passage, to the one on not casting your pearls before swine, to the portion we read last week: ask and you shall receive, seek and you shall find; knock and the door will be opened to you. Then he covers the Golden Rule, the Narrow Gate, and the Tree and its Fruit, before coming to the last topic he covers: Don’t just be hearers of the word. Be doers.

That’s where we find ourselves this evening, in this passage that is a little tricky for Protestants, we who believe that it’s all about God’s grace. In the short passage immediately before our final word, Jesus says,

“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven.” A few verses later we come to this parable driving home that same point: build your house on the rock, not on the sand…

Image: Moyers, Mike. Lenten Labyrinth, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=57142 [retrieved January 27, 2023]. Original source: Mike Moyers, https://www.mikemoyersfineart.com/.

Do you believe in miracles?

If you Google that phrase, one of the top hits is ‘hockey,’ as in the 1980 United States Olympic men’s hockey team, which, against all odds, defeated the Russian team in a game so thrilling that even I still remember where I was when it happened. (I grew up in a hockey family. For the most part, it didn’t stick.) 

For us, though, on a Sunday morning as Lent draws to a close a little over a week from now, the question isn’t whether our team can beat the odds. The question is, how do we receive the signs that the gospel of John has been showing us in these last couple of weeks—especially today’s?

Union Presbyterian Church tends to have a lot of scientists in the pews—engineers, primarily. Not to mention schoolteachers. People who understand the laws of nature, the laws of physics and mechanics and what it means, for example, when a person has been dead for four days. (It means, they’re dead.) And the gospels—all of them—present what John calls signs, what the other gospels call miracles, all to show us the impact Jesus of Nazareth had on the communities his life and ministry touched. 

For all of us, especially as Easter looms on the near horizon, the question of miracles goes to the heart of the gospel story. Assuming we accept the notion that there’s a God, a higher power, one who is more than a primal force that kicked off the Big Bang, the question becomes, how does that God interact with humanity, if at all? Does that God choose to make herself known to the likes of us, and if so, how, under what circumstances? And, finally, what is the relationship of that God to the historical figure of Jesus of Nazareth?

Do you believe in miracles…?

Image: Duccio, di Buoninsegna, -1319?. Raising of Lazarus, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=58386 [retrieved January 27, 2023]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:%27The_Raising_of_Lazarus%27,_tempera_and_gold_on_panel_by_Duccio_di_Buoninsegna,_1310%E2%80%9311,_Kimbell_Art_Museum.jpg.

Do you member how and when you were taught to pray?

I have a very specific memory about praying with my mother, but I can’t say it’s the moment she taught me to pray. I can see her sitting on my bed as I was getting ready to sleep. I am about 5 years old. It’s nighttime, and I’m in my PJ’s, and it’s time to read my favorite book: “The Littlest Angel.” It’s one of those happy-sad books, about a little child who died at age 4, but was having a hard time in heaven because he missed his earthly home. (I could preach a whole sermon on the theology of this book, but I won’t. You’re welcome.) For some reason, every time we finish the book—and only this book, I don’t say it for others—I say “Ave.” No idea where I picked that up.

After we put the book down, my mother and I fold our hands, and say a prayer…

Image: Moyers, Mike. Lenten Labyrinth, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=57142 [retrieved January 27, 2023]. Original source: Mike Moyers, https://www.mikemoyersfineart.com/.