Jesus Dies on the Cross

Good Friday

John 19:16b-18, 28-30 (NRSV)  Jesus Dies on the Cross

So they took Jesus; and carrying the cross by himself, he went out to what is called The Place of the Skull, which in Hebrew is called Golgotha. There they crucified him, and with him two others, one on either side, with Jesus between them.

… After this, when Jesus knew that all was now finished, he said (in order to fulfill the scripture), “I am thirsty.” A jar full of sour wine was standing there. So they put a sponge full of the wine on a branch of hyssop and held it to his mouth. When Jesus had received the wine, he said, “It is finished.” Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

A few years ago I saw a proverb that read, “Cry, and you cry alone. Laugh, and the world laughs with you. Smile, and everyone wonders what you’re up to.”

How we think about the three words near the end of John’s Gospel, “It is finished,” says a lot about how we think about the rest of the Gospel and God’s kingdom.
Many people throughout the centuries have understood them as saying, “My life is over.” But Jesus’ life isn’t over; there is more to come. God is not done with Jesus’ life, or with us yet. It is true that Jesus dies on the cross. It is difficult to understand, but God truly dies. But when we hear these words, it is important to remember the beginning of John’s Gospel (“In the beginning was the Word”).
It is important because we need to remember what that Word brings. It brings the creation of the universe and everything in it. God’s Word creates us.
But the word “finished” in Greek is teleo. The teleo “finished” does not carry the hopeless, final statement death usually carries. This is more like getting the last bale made and covered, or maybe, finishing the yard work just before the rain begins. One can look back over the day and say teleo, “Well, that got done just in time.”
This understanding of teleo—finished or accomplished—conveys in Jesus’ words a much more complex, but satisfying, conclusion. They do not only speak of the end of Jesus’ life, but they point to a completion of our salvation.
Teleo provides a faithful conclusion to the first words of John (the beginning words of creation and all that is to be), just as God’s words of being finished conclude creation: “Thus the heavens and the earth were finished, and all their multitude.” (Genesis 2:1-3 NRSV)
More than that, as the fulfillment of Scripture, Jesus’ teleo “finished”, introduces the possibility of the resurrection, re-creation world, “all has been accomplished—made ready. Let’s go forth making disciples of all nations.”
As God spoke our world into creation and acknowledged the end of work each day, recognizing the work and declaring it good, so Christ on the cross surveys the world at his feet and says, “it is teleo—finished.” I can’t help but think that he smiled.

Prayer

In the midst of life and death, Lord, help us know accomplishment at the end of each day, hope for tomorrow, and joy in the present moment. Lord, help us smile so that the world wonders what you are up to. Amen

Jesus’ Last Supper and Arrest

Maundy Thursday—The Beginning of the Great Three Days

Matthew 26:26-30, 36, 47-50 NRSV    Jesus’ Last Supper and Arrest

While they were eating, Jesus took a loaf of bread, and after blessing it he broke it, gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is my body.” Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks he gave it to them, saying, “Drink from it, all of you; for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. I tell you, I will never again drink of this fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom.”
   When they had sung the hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.
   Then Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane; and he said to his disciples, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.”
   While he was still speaking, Judas, one of the twelve, arrived; with him was a large crowd with swords and clubs, from the chief priests and the elders of the people. Now the betrayer had given them a sign, saying, “The one I will kiss is the man; arrest him.” At once he came up to Jesus and said, “Greetings, Rabbi!” and kissed him. Jesus said to him, “Friend, do what you are here to do.” Then they came and laid hands on Jesus and arrested him.


We may never know what hymn the disciples sang the night of Jesus’ arrest, but scholars assume it was one of the Passover hymns. We might sing Go to Dark Gethsemane, but maybe we should sing All Who Hunger, Gather Gladly.
All who hunger, gather gladly; Holy manna is our bread./Come from wilderness and wand’ring. Here in truth we will be fed./You who yearn for days of fullness, all around us is our food./Taste and see the grace eternal./Taste and see that God is good.
This hymn reminds us that we are not stuck in the historical past. We are not crucifying Jesus again. We are living in the historical present. Like looking at a picture from long ago, we remember the event while living in the present now.

We remember the Exodus from Egypt and the many wilderness trials, and we celebrate the gift from heaven—life-giving bread. We know that the Way, the Truth and the Life of Christ feeds us in our lives today, So we come to taste and see God’s goodness, not at the Passover meal, but at Christ’s thanksgiving dinner table.
There is nothing magical about what Jesus does. He takes a common loaf of bread and a simple cup of wine to share with his disciples. But in the blessing, breaking and sharing with thanks­giving to God for the fruits of the earth, something extraordinary happens. We receive Christ’s body and blood—the elements of life itself—a miracle, a sign of God’s care for us.
We witness Christ going to dark Gethsemane and hear him asking for the cup to be taken away. But even now, we celebrate life in Christ because Christ took the cup and went to the cross; the reality of the resurrection is the world we live in. Christ has made our salvation possible. We may betray Christ’s love for us, but the world of forgiveness and eternal life is ours because of these three days.
All who hunger, sing together, Jesus Christ is living bread./Come from loneliness and longing. Here in peace we have been fed./Blest are those who from the table live their days in gratitude./Taste and see the grace eternal. Taste and see that God is good.

Prayer

Thanks be to you, my lord, Jesus Christ,

For all the benefits that you have given me;

For all the pains and insults you have borne for me.

O, most merciful redeemer, friend and brother,

May I know you more clearly;

Love you more dearly;

And follow you more nearly.

(St. Richard of Chichester, 1253)

CORRECTION--JESUS LOVES! Retrospective Roominations

THE ANGELUS TRUMPET

The Unexpurgated Source for Alternative Bible Facts

CORRECTION--JESUS LOVES!

Retrospective Roominations

by Jack D. Sypal

Dateline: Rome, April 13, 13:01:38

In this year of the double nickels, as our new emperor, Nero Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, continues to fiddle with Senate relations, foreign policy,  and social welfare inequalities at home; as cases of heartburn increase because our beloved emperor refuses to give up his music career and accept the responsibilities of governing the empire like an adult; as our most excellent emperor releases his Greatest Lyre Hits with original rap lyrics under the tag NC CAG & the Luminaries and fires up the crowds with his roof-top concerts (featuring hits like Nero, My God is Me; I Walk in the Garden when Stoned;  Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire; his Consort concert tribute to an old flame, Ablazing Grace; and the original groove of, Burning Down the House), this reporter thought to look back at some of the events that have helped to shape our world today.
One of the most consistent challenges to Roman authority continues to be The Way, that Jesus movement that gained great traction after the Jesus crucifixion event over twenty years ago. It has spread from a minor public execution site outside of Jerusalem to major urban centers throughout the kingdom including Rome itself. Six years have passed since Emperor Tiberius Claudius Caesar Augustus Germanicus attempted to eradicate the insidious, insurrectionist movement by edict. That act failed; today, the movement seems to be alive and doing fine.
I originally hoped to interview some of the earliest Jesus followers before their stories vanish like smoke on the morning breeze, but did not expect to be able to interview a first shaper of what we have come to know as the Christian movement. I caught up with Brother Simon, aka Cephas, aka Peter (Bro’ Pete), in a little wine bar down the street from the Aetna Mountaineering Outfitters, Persian Rug Emporium, Ye Olde Turke Coffee Shoppe & Frank’s Sensible Perfumery owned and operated by Prisca and Aquilla.
After I bought a skinful of wine for Bro’ Pete, he started to regale me with some of the amazing fish stories of his life with Jesus of Nazareth and afterwards. Don’t let him get started on the tuna story. Following is his account of the sequence of events that led to what he affectionately calls The Rolling Stone GenExt.
Bro’ Pete claims, “It started one night when the bunch of us had reserved this private dining room above our local hangout in Jerusalem. All of us were there. There was Nate the Great (Nathaniel); Drew (Andrew); the bag man (Judas); Phil the Pill (Philip); Ditto (Thomas); me, of course (they called me Rocky in those days); and the Jam-Man. Most people thought we called him J.C., but he preferred Messiah. I know, Messiah means Christ, but Messiah was what he liked. J.M. was too hard to say, so we did what all good Jewish guys do with consonants, we added a vowel. Once the a got put in there, man just seemed a natural extension. And it really fit because he was always riffing on some old teaching and finding new ways of saying things—like jazz you know?
“Anyways, the Jam-Man and the rest of us guys were waiting for the servant girl; I think her name was Mandy—yeah, that was it, Mandy Tirsveh. She was supposed to come in and wash our feet, but nothing was happening. All of a sudden, the Jam-Man got up and started curtsying and was taking off his robe and stuff. It was pretty hilarious actually. Then he took a towel and tucked it into his waist band, took the basin of water and knelt down to do the washing himself.
“(By the way, do you know the difference between a bison and a buffalo? You can’t wash your feet in a buffalo. Pretty good, huh?)
“Okay then. When the Jam-Man got to me, I thought that I would yuck it up a little. I said, ‘Not just my feet. Wash my face and my hands, too.’ That’s when things got serious. It had all been good times up to then. We all knew the serious stuff was happening the next day, what with Passover and all, so we were just blowing off a little steam.
“Anyways, Mandy eventually showed up. She served the food, and supper was going along until the Jam Man said that one of us was going to betray him. Really, it would have been more accurate if he had said that we all were going to betray him because, you know, we all did. But when he told us that one of us was going to betray him, we all said that it couldn’t be one of us. Then, the Jam-Man dipped bread in the dessert wine and gave the first bite to the Bag Man. Then the Jam-Man said, ‘The betrayer has dipped his bread in the wine with me.’ And that was that. The Bag Man looked at all of us, and then he ran out of the room.
“I was feeling pretty large at the moment—a good meal, good wine, in the midst of my bros, and I had just dodged the bullet. Yeah, I was feeling pretty large. I said, ‘Now that that’s done, you know you can count on me. I’d never betray you. You know I’ve always got your back, don’t you?’
“That’s when he told me that I would deny him three times before the cock crowed. I told him that I would lay down my life for him! I meant it, too! I never intended to leave him in the lurch! I just got scared. Know what I mean?
“After the Bag Man left, the Jam-Man sat back and got all reflective. He kept looking at the door the Bag Man had left by, like he was waiting for him to come back, but he didn’t. Then he said, ‘You know I love you guys, don’t you? Well, I need to tell you this. You guys have some hard times ahead of you. My time is now, but your time is still coming. It’s important that you find ways to continue to love one another. Your love for one another is how the world is going to know you. So, remember to love one another.’
“And then, he looked even more distant than ever, like he’d had one glass of wine too many, and, in this far-off voice, he said, “Even Judas.” That shook us because he called him Judas and not the Bag Man. We all thought, like we wouldn’t love the Bag Man? The Bag Man was irritating and odd at times, but he was our little oddity, and we never doubted that he was one of us. How things can change…how things can change. We really didn’t know.
“Anyway, we got done with supper, and we went to the Garden. The Jam-Man got arrested when the soldiers and the temple police showed up.
“We started out following at a distance, and so we saw where they took him. One of us, Beloved, we called him—he was the secret disciple that kept us informed of stuff going on in the Jerusalem priesthood set—convinced the servant girl keeping the door that night into letting me in to the courtyard of Annas’ house.
“That’s when everything hit me. I was surrounded by all these soldiers and Jerusalem elites. I knew that they could have me arrested too by just raising their voices. So, when they asked if I was a disciple, I said, ‘No way.’
“So much for laying down my life, huh? It wasn’t bad enough that I denied being a disciple of his once, I did it three times. and then the rooster crowed.
“You know, the Jam-Man kept saying that his time was not up, his time wasn’t up, and then he suddenly changed his tune. Then it was, “My time is up. My time is now, and it’s going to be great, glorious, revealing.” We didn’t have a clue.
“Now, of course, I know what he meant. So much is clearer today. But back then? I didn’t have a clue. So many of us sat at that table that night, and none of us had a clue. But afterwards we got it—got it well enough to say that we could lay down our lives, not for the Jam-Man, he laid down his life for us—but to lay down our lives for the sake of those that come next.
“That’s why I like to call this movement The Rolling Stone GenExt. It’s all about making the difference for the kingdom today and preparing the kingdom for those who come next.
“I gotta tell you. The supper we had that night was great. Whenever I sit down with friends to a meal like that, I always remember the days of the Jam-Man, and it’s like he’s really there with me. It’s a little spooky, but it feels good. You know what I mean?
“Somehow or other though, I just can’t eat chicken anymore.
“Well, thanks for the wine. I gotta go. Luv ya, man,”
With that said, Bro Pete put the bota skin on the table, got up and walked away. He seemed to vanish in the crowd. Reports continue concerning Bro Pete’s activities in the area. Rumor has it that he will soon be a papa.

Barefoot in the Dark

Wednesday in Holy Week

John 13:1-5, 12-15 (NRSV)       Jesus Washes the Disciples’ Feet

Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. The devil had already put it into the heart of Judas son of Simon Iscariot to betray him. And during supper Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him.

 

After he had washed their feet, had put on his robe, and had returned to the table, he said to them, “Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord—and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.

In Jesus’ day, feet were more visible than they are today. People did not wrap their feet in socks and shoes. If they wore anything, they wore sandals. Yet, most authorities say that the majority of people walked bare-footed.

This meant that peoples’ feet were always dirty. And as any of you who live on farms know, we leave our barn boots on the back porch for a reason. No wonder the polite thing to do was to have one of the servants wash the feet of visitors to the house—after all you never know where those feet have been.

It would have been proper for one of the disciples to have washed Jesus’ feet, but here we see the order of the world being turned upside down. Jesus washes his disciples’ feet and tells us that we should do the same.

There are going to be some dirty, stinky jobs that are going to need to be done for the health and welfare of God’s community. So let’s step up and be prepared to work. We can’t look for someone else to do the job for us. In his paper on Christian Liberty, Luther says, “We are to be Lord of all, servant to none, and servant to all and Lord of none.”

We can never lose sight of the fact that Jesus is our Lord, and we know this because he loved all he met, even you and me.

Prayer

Thank you for your love and concern, Lord. Thank you for caring for us enough to even wash the stink from our feet. May we always know the fresh-smelling cleanness of life in your presence. Amen

Cloak and Dagger

Tuesday in Holy Week

Matthew 26:3-5, 14-16 (NRSV)            People plot to kill Jesus

Then the chief priests and the elders of the people gathered in the palace of the high priest, who was called Caiaphas, and they conspired to arrest Jesus by stealth and kill him. But they said, “Not during the festival, or there may be a riot among the people.”
Then one of the twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests and said, “What will you give me if I betray him to you?” They paid him thirty pieces of silver. And from that moment he began to look for an opportunity to betray him.

Judas is given the role of the ultimate cloak and dagger man. In various places one finds that the very name of Judas Iscariot may indicate the type of person he was. Sikarios, which means assassin in Greek, is thought by some to be the root of Judas’ name. Others think that his name simply means man from Kerioth. If this is the case, then Judas would have been the only disciple from Judea (an interesting sidelight, but not as interesting as a silent assassin).

Just below the surface of our consciousness, the assassin image has held on. The sikarios is not a regular killer either. He carries a concealed weapon. The sikarios uses a dagger or short sword carried under his cloak.
If this assassin characterization is true, then Judas may be an unwilling assassin. He like all of the disciples tries to repudiate Jesus’ claim that they will betray him, but we are told that in some way each of the disciples betrays Jesus. Even Peter, the most adamant, denies Jesus three times.
Later, Judas, like a child who has stolen a candy bar from the store and then feels remorse, tries to undo what he has done. We know the rest of the story.
Remember the mark of the sikarios is the hidden sword. Could we already have an indica­tion of his remorse when we read, “Suddenly, one of those with Jesus put his hand on his sword, drew it, and struck the slave of the high priest, cutting off his ear.”? (Matthew 26:51 NRSV).
Tradition says it was someone else, but we don’t know who the nameless disciple was. So we may read the story this way, and give Judas greater integrity. But what we do know is that his remorse was so great that he could not live with the consequences of his actions.

Prayer

Lord, it is easy to see the speck in our neighbor’s eye. Help us recognize the logs in our own. Forgive us for not always bearing witness to your presence in our lives. Amen

Oh, Craps

Monday in Holy Week

 

Matthew 21:12–17 (NRSV)        Jesus Cleanses the Temple

Then Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who were selling and buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves.  He said to them, “It is written,

‘My house shall be called a house of prayer’;

but you are making it a den of robbers.”

The blind and the lame came to him in the temple, and he cured them.  But when the chief priests and the scribes saw the amazing things that he did, and heard the children crying out in the temple, “Hosanna to the Son of David,” they became angry and said to him, “Do you hear what these are saying?” Jesus said to them, “Yes; have you never read,

‘Out of the mouths of infants and nursing babies

you have prepared praise for yourself’?”

He left them, went out of the city to Bethany, and spent the night there.

 

I was surprised to find out that the first 7-Eleven store was started in Las Vegas, and the name is from gambling (craps). I always thought the name came from the store hours, seven to eleven.

In this reading about the cleansing of the Temple, Jesus gives us another 7/11. The 7 is the seventh verse of Isaiah 56 which concludes, “for my house shall be called a house of prayer for all people.”

Isaiah, writing hundreds of years before Jesus, already spoke God’s vision for creation. God’s house is a place where the concerns of all nations and nationalities are considered important. It’s no wonder God cannot be contained within the walls of some building; God’s house is greater than creation itself, but creation is the limit of our understanding.

In Isaiah 66 we hear God speaking, “Heaven is my throne and earth is my footstool.” Creation is a small part of God’s house indeed. God’s house is greater than we can imagine, and it is to be a place of prayer, a place where we raise up the needs of all peoples.

The 11, unfortunately, is the eleventh verse of Jeremiah 7. “But you have made it a den of robbers.” How easy it is to read this text and forget that we ourselves are part of the story. God’s house, the creation that is only a footstool, has become the place of war and profiteering. We work so hard at trying to get the most we can for ourselves, and we pay the price—$2.25 gasoline, $2.99 bread, young people dying for their country, and thousands who go to bed hungry each night.

There is a sigh of relief in our voices when we say those people didn’t understand who Jesus was, but do we? Jesus’ words are as frightening to us today as they were almost 2000 years ago.

Prayer

Lord, you know our needs. Help us work for the welfare of all your people. Teach us to see your face in our enemies and help us share the abundance of your footstool. Amen

Matthew 27:11-56 The Good Old Days

This is Palm Sunday. Or, this is Passion Sunday. Or, this is Palm and Passion Sunday.

It doesn’t seem that long ago when this day announced Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem and the world around us sort of stopped. Some of us may have been part of the tradition of going to worship every day during Holy Week. More of us remember the worship services of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and then Easter Sunday. Even the people who only came to church twice a year thought of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter as being one time instead of three separate times. Those that we knew of as the Christmas/Easter worshippers showed up for the great Easter parade.

One older lady once told me, “I loved Easter because that was when I got my new Sunday dress for the year.” She later told me of a day when she was little when she was naughty and had accidently fallen before worship that Easter and had torn her new dress. She said, “I had to wear that beautiful dress with the patch in the front for the rest of the year.”

In many ways those days were simpler, but those days also had their challenges. For instance, for this one woman, wearing that dress with the patch was not so much a punishment as it was the reality of not having enough money for another dress.

In her own wisdom, she told me one day, “I’m not sure that they were the good old days. I think that they were just the days I grew up in. I remember thinking that where we lived was everything until the Great War broke out. Then there was the flu epidemic and the Depression and the Second World War. After that we had a few good years until Korea came along. Then it was time for my boys to go to war. Then there was Vietnam, and after that I was old. People keep telling me that life was so much better then, but I’m not so sure. I like turning the faucet on and getting water. I like turning the light switch and having light without having to trim the lantern wicks. I am definitely too old to be trekking across the backyard at night in January for the privy. Life may have been simpler, but it was harder.”

 
Of course, life goes on. The clock continues to measure time, but it doesn’t tick so much anymore. Still, there are events that continue to hold us in time and in place. These events and the stories that accompany them continue to shape us and give our lives meaning. Today is one of those days.

Today we hear the story of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem and the story of his trial and crucifixion. It is a stark story of great love, compassion, and dedication. Today, we don’t tell everything that happens, but we whet your appetite for hearing the details of our faith story during the rest of the week. Yes, it is stark. It is brutal at times, and yet there is an end that is worth waiting for.

This is the beginning of that great story that continues to open and unfold like spring flowers, in techno-color and sweet smelling perfume. It is the story that takes us into the empty times of death and rises up into spectacular visions of hope and promise. It is our story of joy, confusions, despair, and hope for a better future. It is our faith story that neither longs for a time that was, nor does it naively anticipate a so much better future. It is our story of life lived, day by day with the assurance of Christ’s loving and caring presence among us.

It is not a love and caring that does not know the reality of our pain, for this week we witness Christ’s crucifixion suffering for us. It is not a love and caring that is without temptation, for we remember Jesus’ wilderness time. It is not a love and caring that is without anxiety, for we will witness Christ’s prayer in the garden of Gethsemane asking to have the cup removed. It is not a love and caring that is given without alienation, for we will see his disciples fall asleep while Jesus prays, betray him, deny him, and, finally, abandon Jesus altogether at the cross. It is not a love and caring that comes without knowing limitation, for Jesus dies on the cross.

It is a time of mysteries. It is a time when we shout with the crowds, “Hosanna!”, that is, Lord save us, and then cringe as the crowd cries out to have Jesus crucified. It is in the mystery of this day that we can say that although Jesus is fully dead on the cross, yet today he lives. His love and caring does not end at the tomb, but it continues to sustain us as we live our lives each day. It is a time when we seriously ask ourselves, “Were the good old days really that good? Or, is it that good has come out of the old days and that goodness is what we long to claim and remember?

Whatever we call this day, Palm or Passion Sunday, it is the day the Lord has made for us. Let us rejoice and be glad.

RENEGADE RABBI RAMPAGE

THE ANGELUS TRUMPET

The Unexpurgated Source for Alternative Bible Facts

 

RENEGADE RABBI RAMPAGE

by Matt Hughes

Dateline: Jerusalem, April 9, 21:01:17

Continuing unrest is reported in Jerusalem. The latest, an impromptu demonstration protesting both Roman rule and Temple practices, erupted Sunday morning. The renegade rabbi, Jesus of Nazareth, was seen in the midst of the mob riding a donkey and leading a colt. His personal associates allegedly illegally appropriated said animals earlier in the day. 

The gathering crowd, upon recognizing Jesus, called for the restoration of King David’s throne and threw articles of clothing as well as palm branches before him. Many heralded the renegade rabbi with shouts of “Lord, save us” and “Lord from the highest heaven”.

Jesus, upset by temple business, which fleeces many Passover pilgrims, entered the temple court of the gentiles. The rampaging rabbi drove out buyers and sellers, overturned tables of the temple moneychangers, and released many of the sacred, sacrificial animals. The resulting cloud of pigeons anointed many underneath.

In the midst of the turmoil, this reporter interviewed a demonstrator, one Simon Tanner. When asked if he knew the leader, he replied, “This is the prophet, Jesus of Nazareth from Galilee.” Some beggars from the temple gates also came into the temple grounds claiming that they had been blind and lame but Jesus had healed them. Street urchins ran among the demonstrators adding to the confusion, shouting, “Hosanna to the son of David.”

Having created chaos, Jesus of Nazareth withdrew with his looters to an unknown location in Bethany where he was hidden from authorities.

Jesus of Nazareth is a recalcitrant rabbi who has appeared on the scene from time to time. If you see this renegade rabbi, do not listen to him or come into close contact with him. It is unlikely that this troubled teacher would inflict injury, but he has been known to change people’s lives without considering future consequences. Jack D. Sypal continues to follow several lawsuits people have brought as a result of these actions.

Like today, this man disappears before authorities can apprehend him. Since he is likely to return to the Temple area and grounds in the future, Rome and Temple authorities are asking for your help. They urge you to immediately notify the Temple guard or any Roman soldier. Claims that he is the new King of the Jews continue to perplex politicos and ruffle Roman feathers. Whispers of treason abound.

Remembering the Future John 11:1-53

I am sure that many of you have heard the story of Lazarus coming out of the tomb, or parts of it, numerous times. You have probably heard it at funerals, in general sermons, through your personal Bible reading, and possibly in study groups. If this is the first time that you have heard it, I welcome you into some of the most encouraging and heartening passages of the New Testament. At the same time these are some of the most troubling and confusing passages.

This past week, I was again amazed by the number of shifts in time that take place and the bizarre behavior on Jesus’ part. To begin, we hear John tell the story of Mary to identify her: you know, she is the one who anointed Jesus with oil and wiped his feet with her hair, even though in the narrative of John’s Gospel, we will not be told of Mary anointing Jesus until the next chapter.

As I was reading, I noticed how the verbs do not always agree with the rest of the context of the sentences and that there are other allusions to events that have not occurred. Yet we, as the readers and hearers of this story, both when it was written and today, are to remember the future has already happened.

We hear that Lazarus is sick and a message is sent to Jesus to inform him of the fact with the desire that he come immediately. Does Jesus go to this person he loves? No. He decides to stay where he is for two more days. In the background of our “already, but not yet” memories, we hear “And on the third day, he was raised up from the dead.” But wait, that is not Lazarus; that is Jesus.  

Lazarus is four-days-dead when Jesus and the disciples arrive outside the village, outside the house of Martha and Mary. When Jesus tells Martha that Lazarus will rise again, she looks ahead to the future, to the coming messiah. Jesus tells her that the resurrection is not something to come; it is before her in that moment. Jesus says, “I am I am, the resurrection.” This is not some future thing that will happen; it is loaded with the history of the “I Am” of Moses encountering the burning bush, and it is happening again as Jesus speaks with Martha and as we hear it.

Then we come to that classic line all translators of this text wrestle with. Jesus looks to heaven and says, “I knew that you always hear me.” This past tense certainty comes with a present tense understanding “for the sake of the people standing here”, both those hearing Jesus that day and throughout time. This construct that begins in the past has a life in the present of the speaking that assumes the future of all of you gathered here today.  It is nothing short of spectacular how this short passage prefigures our language of Eucharistic mystery, “Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.” We feel, more than hear, that “Jesus’ time has not yet come”, in the language of John. We are reminded that this story is about Lazarus, meaning God’s mercy.

The next instance is after Martha goes out to meet Jesus when we hear Martha whisper to Mary that Jesus is calling for her and yet there is no evidence in the text that Jesus has called her.

Then we hear the people respond to Jesus’ question, “Where have you laid him?” with the words that reveal the messiah earlier in John ch. 1, “Come and see.” Yet this time the words “Come and see” are not an invitation to find new life, they are an invitation to witness death—real death—stinking, rotting death. Again, John reminds us that Jesus truly died, but this story is about Lazarus, God’s mercy, not Jesus’ Easter victory.

Or, is it? Amid the seemingly poorly told, mixed-up tenses, and out of sequence events of this story of Lazarus, we encounter resurrection and the resurrected one who has the power to destroy death, to raise the dead of the world from their places of death into new life. We encounter the one who has the authority to command the stone to be removed from the tomb and lay it as the foundation stone of what is to come. In this spectacular way, we are called to remember, not the past, but the future. For the world of the resurrection is all about seeing the possibilities of what is to come—the realization of hope in the future, a world of anticipating  the true state of nothing separating us from God’s “Lazarus mercy and love”, that is, God’s everlasting grace.

No wonder that there were some who believed because of what they saw. No wonder there were those who had to go and tell the authorities what was happening. No wonder there were those who thought that this Jesus had to be stopped because, if more people understood that Jesus had the power to put death to death, everybody might come to believe in him.

Several years ago, a pastor I know had a young man who was new to the faith come to her office to tell her that he had enlisted and was being shipped out to Afghanistan. He asked for the prayers of the community while he was gone.

The pastor asked if there was anything else she could do for him before he left. He asked if she could tell him how to get a copy of that book they read from on Sundays. The pastor asked if he meant the book of hymns. He said, “No, that book that you read from every week.”

She said, “You mean the Bible?”

He said he didn’t know, but he would like to get a copy of it to take with him. He thought that he could read it while he was gone. It would remind him of the people he had met at church. She took him into the sanctuary where she gave him their Bible, The Message translation, saying, “This is a gift to you from us. We will get another and read it with you.”

Well, time went by, and the young man came home. He came back to worship and then showed up at the pastor’s office one afternoon. He asked, “Pastor, do other people know about this book?”

“Yes,” the pastor said.

“Do other people read this book?” the young man asked.

“Yes. Why do you ask?” the pastor responded.

“’Cause, after reading it, I couldn’t help but think, if more people read it, it could change the world.”

The writer of John, in this story, challenges us to witness the authority of Jesus who puts death to death. We are called to remember the future—the events that are to come—the world that invites us to imagine life abundantly, hopefully, joyfully, and prayerfully. We are called then, to tell the story in all times and in all places confessing the resurrection of the body and the life of a world, as yet unknown, to come. And so, in those words that we have been taught, we pray, “Your kingdom come. Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” Martin Luther reminds us that God’s will will be done—God’s kingdom will come without us praying for it—but, in this prayer, we pray that we might know, that we might know God’s will and know God’s kingdom on earth as it is in heaven, not sometime in the future, but right here and right now.

This is a precious story that grows when we find ways to share it. Today we heard Brandon join us in telling the story. With his voice, we learn that the story is not only for the old but for the young. And we give thanks for his voice in our midst, that voice of youth and promise.  It is the voice of here and now and the voice of the future. It is another voice that invites us to hear the story of Lazarus’ rising. Telling the story is not about remembering the resurrection in the future but of Christ’s presence in our lives today, lifting us up into new ways of living. It is a story of love and hope that our world needs and longs to hear. It is a message that can change the world. In God’s Lazarus mercy, “Come out!”.

Former Dead Guy Suing Jesus Also!

THE ANGELUS TRUMPET           

The Unexpurgated Source for Alternative Bible Facts

 

Former Dead Guy Suing Jesus Also!

Dateline: Bethany, April 2, 11:01:12:11

by Jack D. Sypal

Late Friday, Lazarus of Bethany, who we reported Jesus has brought back from the dead, joined I. Seituwell in suing Jesus for unwanted care. There seems to be considerable pushback against this miracle worker’s activities. Speculation has arisen that Lazarus and Seituwell may join forces with others in a class action suit. As political tensions rise and governmental pressures come to bear, could-be followers may choose to seek deep-pocket recompense.

Following is an interview account of the latest person to lay claim against Jesus.

“I mean, I thought [Jesus and I] were close. We had this real bromance going. So, when I was told that Jesus was going off without me, I was really hurt, like cut to the core hurt. I thought that we had something special going on there, and then he was gone with the rest of the guys.

“It wasn’t long after they left me, I was feeling pretty low, and then I got sick. I felt pretty lousy and had to go to bed for the day. My sisters, Mary and Martha, came in with some of that good Jewish penicillin around supper time, but it didn’t seem to be very appetizing. And if you know my sisters’ cooking, you would understand how unusual that was. In the middle of the night, I got this terrible stomachache and sweat started pouring out of me. That is about the last thing I remember for a while.

“My sisters would tell me they sent a message for Jesus to come, but no … I don’t know, maybe the message got crossed up or something, but he thought that he would hang for a couple of days.

Apparently, I got a lot worse. My temperature went sky high. I remember some time on the second day it felt like someone poured ice water in my belly. It hurt a lot; it was excruciating! When I asked my sisters about Jesus, they shook their heads. I couldn’t believe he hadn’t come.

“The next thing I remember, I was being called out. I was in this really peaceful place. I didn’t have any pain, and I was just totally chill, ya know? And then, this annoying voice started calling me out. I really just wanted to lay there. Then I noticed this stink. It was awful. It was sort of like being down at the slaughter yard on a hot day, standing near the fresh hides on one side and the blood pool and feces on the other. Yeah, it was pretty bad.

“And that voice kept nagging me, ‘Lazarus; come out, Lazarus; come out.’

“I finally recognized the voice as my man, but I thought, ‘What the hell? Why is he calling me now? He was the one who left me behind.’

“But finally, the smell got to me and I had to get out of there. That’s when I discovered that I was the smell. When I got out of the cave, I was struck by the sun, and the stench really took on a life of its own. And then I got a whiff of my own breath. Lord have mercy! It was enough to blow a fly off a gut-wagon. You know what I mean?

“Finally, people came and started stripping the wrappings off of me. I had to show my nakedness before all of those people. Public nudity is one thing, but I had pustules erupting on my body and skin sloughing going on. It was pretty disgusting.

“Most people looked at me with horror. They were petulantly pronouncing prognostications of pernicious, purulent, pustule pestilence. Penitents were prostrating themselves on the property, proposing persistent, pietistic popcorn-prayers of propitiation. Everyone was trying to hold their noses, and as soon as they could, they built a proper pyre for burning everything I had on. Even that smelled pretty preposterous.

“I spent hours in the bath trying to scrub the stink off, but after my skin started sliding off, I resorted to wiping my body off in nard. It didn’t get rid of the smell, but it masked it pretty well.

“Everybody thought that it was so cool; that I should be so thankful, but somehow, when I really needed [Jesus], he didn’t show. When I didn’t need him anymore, then he showed up, to do what? Leave me again?

“A couple of nights ago, my sisters invited him to supper; ‘To thank him,’ they said. Apparently I was still smelling pretty bad, so Mary went and got my nard and covered Jesus’ feet with it. The fragrance filled the whole house

“All I could think was, ‘Thanks, sis. Now what am I supposed to do tomorrow?’ I mean the stuff isn’t cheap. We may be wealthy, but we aren’t rich, if you know what I mean.

“Today I find out that there’s a contract out on me. Half the people are treating me like I’m a god, which I’m not; and the other half of the people treat me like I’m this zombie creature who will hex them for the rest of their lives, which I won’t. I can’t go back to work. I’m not even able to hang with my friends. It feels like the bromance is truly over, and I can’t get rid of this stink. If I can’t get my life back, I want pay back.”

It's Not About the Blind Guy, John 9:1-41

Before we begin, I want you to take a moment to think about one thing that you know well enough to teach someone else. It doesn’t need to be complicated or involved, and I’m not trying to say that it is the only thing or the most important thing you know. I just want it to be something that you feel competent in and something that you are comfortable sharing with others.

 

For me, this is one of the most difficult stories to preach on. And yet, it is one of the stories that I might be most qualified to talk with you about, but there is the difficulty. I could talk with you about this text for the next day or so and not run out of material and never get to the good news. So, let me say from the beginning that this text is not about a blind guy. It is all about identity, community, and acceptance.

Let us begin. At the beginning of this story, the identity of the person born blind is firmly established. He has a family. He has a job, that is, begging, and he has a community, the other professional beggars sanctioned by Scripture. His identity is that of the blind beggar. It is not an identity that people are going to study for, but he is recognized by his community and welcomed there. Where ever he would go to beg, he would be known and welcomed. He is one of a number of people who are permitted by Mosaic law to beg. Indeed, God’s people are commanded to share their alms with those who have the right to beg. Because he is an adult, he has probably been begging for years. He has made enough money at this job to support or help support himself and his family.

Although he is to be supported by the alms of the people, and is mentioned favorably in Leviticus 19:14, “Do not revile the deaf or put a stumbling block before the blind. You shall fear your God! I am the Lord,” he is not allowed into the synagogue. As this story begins he is outside of the synagogue with his own identity. What happens next is that this man’s entire identity changes in a matter of moments. Afterwards this man who was formerly blind loses everything that has meant anything to him. His status in the community changes—those around him, his neighbors and others, challenge whether he is the same person or someone who looks like him amid his protestations of claiming to be the same person he used to be.

He is challenged by the synagogue court, brought before the Pharisees, and questioned about this new life he is leading. He is challenged to prove that he was not sighted before. At last his parents are brought before the synagogue, and, in fear, they turn away from their son and make him speak for himself since, as a sighted person, he is able to enter the synagogue.

Finally, after further questioning, the man is cast out of the synagogue, the synagogue he was not able to be part of before, and he sits outside the synagogue destitute. He has no identity. He has no profession. He has no community. He has no family. He has this gift of new vision, but no one to share it with. No one to share it with until Jesus finds this man again.

This story, which has most oftentimes been preached as this amazing miracle, a story of celebration, may be one of the greatest struggles in and of the Scriptures. As Jacob’s confrontation at the Jabbok river with God, that great wrestling match back in Genesis, resulted in a change in Jacob’s identity, so now the man who was formerly blind has a new identity. Jacob’s wrestling match changes his name from Jacob to Israel for he wrestled with God, and he carried the limp from his hip being dislocated for the rest of his life. This man will wrestle with seeing for the rest of his life, and yet he is never named. So, what is this story about?

As I said, I do not believe that this story is about the man born blind. It is all about identity, community, and acceptance. Further, I believe that this story is for us today and challenges us in all kinds of ways. Again, let us begin.

I cannot think of a time when we, that is the Church, have been challenged in our identity the way we are being challenged today. The old days of being able to be the moral compass of our communities, of being places where we could quietly study the Bible and get baptized, confirmed, married, and buried are gone. The days of living in a world where people assumed that everybody is Christian and that we lived in a Christian world (an illusion we often carry), are gone. The days of living quietly in our own corner of the world without concern for what is happening in other parts of the world is long time gone.

I tell you today, Christ is standing before us, mixing up the stuff of creation, God’s spit and dirt, forming us into a new Adam, a new community, with new ways of living. This is the world of artificial joints and limbs; heart transplants, kidney transplants and even lung transplants. We are living in a cyber-world that not only allows instant communication, but demands it. We live in a world that not only doesn’t care about the poor among us, it brags about creating systems that will continue to deprive the poorest of the poor of their very dignity. The days of food baskets anonymously showing up on our neighbors’ doorsteps as they did so many times in the midst of the Great Depression are long gone.

It is time for us to have our eyes opened. It is time to wrestle with the disapproval of those around us. It is time to even leave our families for the vision of God’s possibility kingdom before us. It will not be easy. But when it is all said and done, the one who searches out the outcasts will find us too, and that one will reveal himself to us, reminding us that we have met before, and that we will be able to walk together with a new identity received in the new life given to us in baptism, in the relationship with new eyes to see God’s work in the world, shaped from clay in his image, and claimed as children of God.

It has been many years since Daniel Berrigan said this, but his words are still true today. “The mark of a Christian is that you must look good on wood.” We are called, gathered, and challenged to see the world around us—to see the world around us with all of its sores and scabs, and then we are sent into that world to be the body of Christ for our neighbors, to be the ones who will stand before the outcasts of the world with words of encouragement and acceptance.

We are the ones who can offer the purifying waters of Siloam to a mud-covered, thirsty world that it might be sent with the living waters of endurance and hope, with the character of Christ and the anointing of the Holy Spirit. It is a hope that gives new identity. It is a hope that comes with pain. It is a hope that depends on and builds new communities of faith. It is a hope that accepts the gifts we have been given and uses them.

The man born blind receives his sight so that we might see. He suffers the challenges of that world so that we might know that there is life beyond rejection. He wrestles with his seeing and shows us the way to true vision in the one who makes all things possible, Jesus Christ, our Lord and savior. No, this story is not about the man born blind, it is about us today, the people of Albany Lutheran Church. You did not ask for it, but Jesus, while he was passing, stooped down and opened your eyes. What do you see? What are you going to do about it?

Again, let us begin. Remember that thing that you know well enough to teach? When are you going to start teaching it? How can we help you make that happen?