Advent 2008 - Lamb of God

“O come, o come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel.” “Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight paths for Him.” “Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.” “Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.” “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” “The Lion of the Tribe of Judah has triumphed. …Then I saw a lamb, looking as if it had been slain, standing in the center before the throne…” “The wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat, the calf and the lion and the yearling together; and a little child will lead them. …In that day, the Root of Jesse will stand as a banner for the peoples, the nations will rally to him, and his resting place will be glorious.”

Such different texts, from completely different times and places, but they all come together and have meaning for us this Advent season. They matter. Advent matters. Even in a world that cares very little for Advent and texts like this.

Advent is about waiting, and praying. It is about being quiet and preparing for Jesus to come. It is about hope, expectation, peace, and joy. And I get frustrated because the rest of the world seems to speed up during Advent and pretend that somehow it is already Christmas. I suppose that has been happening for years now, with Christmas seeming to come earlier and earlier for everyone else. But this is the first time in 7 years that I have not been caught up in finals and papers. I have turned the radio on, and heard Christmas music in mid-November, and promptly turned the radio back off. I’ve been getting Christmas ads from stores for over a month. I’ve heard the panicked conversations of people who are worried about running out of time to buy presents.

The speed and chaos have been jarring. I’ve been blissfully ignorant for the past few years, too worried about papers for the radio or advertisements, and surrounded by other students. Buying presents was the furthest thing from our minds. So this year, I find myself more and more frustrated by the Christmas frenzy.

We have gotten Advent all wrong. Advent means coming. Advent is our time of preparing our hearts to receive the coming Christ. All too often we think that we have already welcomed the Christ who came, so we can jump straight to Christmas morning. And we forget that we do not know what it would be to welcome Christ more fully, more completely, into our hearts, our minds, our homes, our jobs, and our churches.

Advent is a journey, a journey on the path to Christ’s coming. The journey of Advent begins with hope. We sing and we pray, “O come, o come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel.” This is the cry of a people who know that things now are not as they shall be. This is the cry of Israel who waited in literal captivity, in Egypt, in Babylon, in Persia, in Assyria, and in Rome. They know that God has set them apart to be his people and have God as their King and Ruler. They know that they are free people, and they waited and prayed for a Savior to deliver them.

But this is our cry and prayer too. “O come, o come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel.” We too know that how things are is not how they should be. The world still languishes under the weight of sin. We still wait for Jesus to come into our world in new and more dramatic ways. We see hurricanes destroy cities, fires ravage communities, and terrorist attacks frighten the country of India and the world. We know that Jesus has already come, but we also know that we still need Jesus to come. We receive the promises of his coming in the prophets. They see Jesus’ advent in ways that the rest of us do not, and they point us to the coming Emmanuel.

The prophets tell us to watch for the coming one, to be ready when he arrives. So the 2^nd step in our journey through Advent is preparation. John the Baptist quotes Isaiah the prophet, “I am the voice of the one crying in the wilderness, 'prepare the way of the Lord.'” John called the people to repentance, to examine their hearts and minds for the ways that they had turned from the Lord. Israel should have known better, they had seen God lead and save them before, but God’s chosen people were still people after all. They still fell short of being the people whom God wanted them to be. They still needed to examine their hearts to be ready. So the people came out to meet this John character and to listen to his call to repentance.

John lived in the wilderness, away from the bustle and day to day life of the city. He dressed in camel’s hair, eating locusts and wild honey for his meals. This is not the man you would bring home to mom and dad. He’s not even what you would expect from a prophet, and the prophets did some strange things in Israel. But John’s presence in the wilderness does something that the people don’t expect. They have to leave behind the routine of their daily lives to go meet this messenger of God. They have to leave behind the relative safety of the city, the security of their jobs, the surroundings of the Roman guard and the rushed rhythms of life. They have to travel into the wilderness, where there is time for quiet and space for solitude. They have to leave behind their daily rhythms to be able to hear what God is saying, through John, and into their hearts.

Advent is the time when God is calling us to do the same as Israel. John the Baptist still calls to us, “I am the voice of the one crying in the wilderness, prepare the way of the Lord.” He still calls us to examine our hearts and to see where repentance is needed so that we can hear God clearly and be ready when he comes. Like Israel, we too should know better. We have been saved by the Messiah after all. But also like Israel, we are people, people who fall immensely short of being the people God calls us to be. So Advent is a time of repentance, a time to go out into the wilderness, leaving behind the rhythms of our lives. Turning off the TV’s, radios, and video games long enough to be silent. Changing our daily routines to provide space to hear God’s voice, and the quiet to be able to actually hear when he speaks. Advent provides the time to prepare our hearts to be ready when God comes, for we never know when or how he will appear.

Jesus comes in unexpected ways. Israel didn’t quite expect Jesus in John’s day. They knew that they were free people, people who were supposed to be set free from Roman rule. And they were looking for a Messiah who would set them free from the Romans who ran their cities and lives. Israel got something quite different. They got a baby, born in a stable not a palace, to an unexpected mother. Mary didn’t expect to be the bearer of God to the world. She was ready for God to come because she had been faithful to God, serving him with her life in purity and holiness. But she was more than a little startled when the angel appeared to her proclaiming that she would have a son, and she would name him Jesus, for he would save his people from their sins. Mary didn’t expect to be bringing God into the world, but when God came, her heart was ready, and she recognized him. For Mary treasured all these things in her heart” as she watched this infant whom she knew to be God interact with the world.

Once that baby had grown up, he was even less of what Israel had been expecting. In the first chapter of John, as we learn that Jesus is God, the light in the darkness, the Word, the Son of God, the Son of Man, and the Messiah, we hear John proclaim that Jesus is the “Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world.” This is a very strange title for a King. The lamb was used in Israel for the Passover, for the time when every family killed one perfect lamb for their family, or themselves and their neighbors, and spread the blood on the doorposts of their homes so that death would pass over their homes. The Lamb brings about the salvation of Israel by releasing them from death and captivity into life and freedom with God. The Passover Lamb gets slain, not crowned. And that is exactly what John proclaims, and what Jesus lives. The Lamb of God, the Son of Man and King of Israel, must die to save his people from their sins. The dying savior. This is not what Israel expects, but it is what John knows to be true. The man who calls people to follow this Savior recognizes him when he comes. God had told John that the man on whom the Spirit descended was the Messiah, and John proclaimed, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world.” John and Mary were ready for God to come, and open to seeing him come in ways that they could never have expected. Are we?

In the Lord’s Supper, we proclaim together, “Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.” We know the Messiah who is the Lamb of God. We have seen him crucified to save his people from his sins. The world did not expect a dead man to rise. Israel did not expect it. We do not expect it. Dead men stay dead. But when Jesus rose again, the disciples, together with us, were ready. We didn’t expect it, but when God came to us, we recognized him. And we have seen the slain Lamb of God rise again. So we proclaim his salvation, and we proclaim his final victory as we proclaim that “Christ will come again.” We still wait for Christ to return. He has begun the redemption and transformation of the world through his blood on the cross and in his rising from the grave, but that redemption and transformation has not yet been completed. We still need Christ to come to us. And we are like Israel, not quite sure what it will look like when he comes. But Advent is a time for us to be expecting Jesus so that we will recognize him when he comes, even if we didn’t quite know what that would look like before he appears. We wait with hope and expectation to see how Jesus will come to us. What message will he bring to us this Advent as he comes into our lives in new ways? What message will he have for our church as we live the gospel in this neighborhood? How will Jesus appear in our homes and our families? How will he transform the world? How will he come again?

We wait during Advent, with hope and expectation in our hearts, for Jesus to come again. We continue to do the things we do every Sunday. We partake of the Lord’s Supper, and we pray the Lord’s Prayer, but we do them differently during Advent. These things are reminders that Advent is a time of waiting for Christ to come. They are reminders of the hope of Christ’s return. Just as we proclaim the promise of Christ’s return in the Lord’s Supper as we proclaim that “Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again.” We also pray for Christ to come and for the world to be transformed as we pray the Lord’s Prayer. “Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” We know that the world is still not as it should be. As much as we have seen God’s transformation in our own lives, we have also seen that the transformation is not yet complete. We feel the weight of our own sin. We see the destruction of a world that is still captive to the deceptions of power and control. And we see the earth shudder under the weight of the fall as all of creation groans in anticipation of that day when Christ will come again. So we pray, “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” We do not just say the words. We pray them. We pray for Christ’s return, and we take time in Advent to consciously wait for that return.

We wait for the transformation of the world with ready and open hearts for we know that the Lamb of God is worthy to win the battle and transform the world. The Lamb of God who was slain is victorious. John the Elder watched as “the one who sat on the throne” held a scroll which was sealed, and no one in heaven or on earth or under the earth was found worthy to open the scroll. And John wept. But the elders said to him, “Do not weep! See, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the root of David, has triumphed. He is able to open the scroll and its seven seals. Then I saw a Lamb, looking as if it had been slain, standing in the center before the throne….” Jesus is the Lamb of God who was slain and who is worthy. He has already been the Passover Lamb for the world, unblemished, and killed for the redemption of his people. His sacrifice makes him able to open the scroll, able to completely transform this world from sin and death and destruction to life and wholeness and peace with God. Jesus has already conquered, and Jesus remains forever the Lamb who was slain. He will complete the transformation of the world.

And we will see that final transformation, and it will be unlike anything we could have imagined or expected. Just as Isaiah preached the coming Messiah, so he proclaims the still coming Messiah. Isaiah proclaims,

The Branch From Jesse

1 A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse;
from his roots a Branch will bear fruit.

2 The Spirit of the LORD will rest on him—
the Spirit of wisdom and of understanding,
the Spirit of counsel and of might,
the Spirit of the knowledge and fear of the LORD—

3 and he will delight in the fear of the LORD.
He will not judge by what he sees with his eyes,
or decide by what he hears with his ears;

4 but with righteousness he will judge the needy,
with justice he will give decisions for the poor of the earth.
He will strike the earth with the rod of his mouth;
with the breath of his lips he will slay the wicked.

5 Righteousness will be his belt
and faithfulness the sash around his waist.

6 The wolf will live with the lamb,
the leopard will lie down with the goat,
the calf and the lion and the yearling ^[a] together;
and a little child will lead them.

7 The cow will feed with the bear,
their young will lie down together,
and the lion will eat straw like the ox.

8 Infants will play near the hole of the cobra;
young children will put their hands into the viper's nest.

9 They will neither harm nor destroy
on all my holy mountain,
for the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the LORD
as the waters cover the sea.

10 In that day the Root of Jesse will stand as a banner for the peoples; the nations will rally to him, and his resting place will be glorious.

This is a world we can’t even imagine. Everything is reversed. Predators are removed. Children are free to lead. It is a strange world, but if we are ready, if we are prepared and waiting with expectation, we’ll know him when he comes.

And we will continue to wait through this Advent season, being formed as we wait for Christ to come. We will continue to participate in the Lord’s Supper, that constant reminder that this world is not as it should be. We will remember that Jesus has brought redemption and begun his transformation, but that he is not finished yet. And as we partake of the Lord’s Supper, we will long for his heavenly banquet when we will feast with Christ and all of the world will be fully redeemed. Maranatha! Lord come quickly! Amen.

John 21:1-25 Finding Jesus in Places of Loss and Devastation

On Wednesday, as I sat downstairs reading John 21, a particular set of questions puzzled me and a particular set of verses struck me. I need to confess to you this morning that those questions and verses couldn’t be further from my mind. Several of my friends in Santa Barbara lost homes in the Tea Fire this week. Parts of my college, Westmont, a place I love deeply, literally burned to the ground. One of my fellow pastors lost his home in Sylmar. I am less worried about why there are exactly 153 fish in the net (I still have no idea by the way), and more worried about them. And I am reading the passage a little differently this morning.

The strange thing is that I probably should have been reading the passage more like this from the beginning. I just didn’t see it. As I read John 20 last Sunday, I was struck by the last two verses:

Jesus performed many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not recorded in this book. But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name

This seems like a conclusion. It seems like the book is over. This is about as real an ending as you can get.

But then we have chapter 21. It seems that the author can’t stop telling the story. He finished writing, but God didn’t finish working. God kept speaking and moving in his community, and he had to keep telling the story of Jesus. So the author keeps writing. It is true of us as well. God keeps changing lives and forcing us to open up to what he is doing. God keeps working, so we keep writing and telling the story, that old, old story in new times and places. So together we read the Scriptures and see God working in our world.

We live in a situation very similar to the situation of those disciples gathered in Galilee. Jesus has died, so he is no longer present in our midst. But Jesus is risen, so he walks among us, both seen and unseen, and the Holy Spirit is constantly our guide. Here on the seashore, Jesus reveals himself again to the disciples. Whether they are in Galilee to escape the danger present in Jerusalem, or because they don’t know what else to do, or because they are waiting for Jesus, Peter decides to go fishing. We know from the other gospels that Peter was a fisherman by trade. The disciples know what they are doing, and engage in a fairly mundane task. They don’t seem to expect Jesus to appear on the shore, but isn’t that just how Jesus likes to work? In surprising ways.

The disciples are gathered, knowing that Jesus has risen, but probably still a little lost as to what his resurrection means for them. They had left everything to follow Jesus, and now the disciples don’t have a teacher to follow throughout Palestine. They are a little aimless, but it is in their aimlessness that Jesus reveals himself to them.

And it is at the end of a long and disappointing night that Jesus chooses to reveal himself. The disciples have toiled all night to catch fish – a job they know well. And they have gained nothing. They are faced with failure and disappointment. But in this failure and disappointment Jesus reveals his presence and brings an abundant blessing of fish.

At daybreak, “Jesus stood on the shore, but the disciples did not realize that it was Jesus. He called out to them, ‘Lads, haven’t you any fish?’ ‘No.’ They replied. He said, throw your net on the right side of the boat and you will find some. When they did, they were unable to haul in the net because of the large number of fish.”

I imaging that those disciples felt a little like the firefighters in Montecito, Sylmar, and Orange County. Disappointed. Dejected. They knew how to do their jobs, but in one night in Montecito they watched as they failed to keep over 200 homes from burning. In one night in Sylmar, they could not save a mobile home park of 500 residences. Failure. They are unable to do what they are trained to do. And the people are also disappointed and dejected, although I imagine that we relate more to the disciples’ feelings about Jesus’ death. He may have risen, but he doesn’t walk with them teaching throughout the countryside. His absence that night is real absence, just like the loss of homes, businesses, and colleges is real loss. There is joy – for the disciples the resurrection, for us – our lives and safety. The absence and loss are still real. But it is here that Jesus reveals himself and works a miracle.

The disciples get more than they bargained for when they drop that net. They have a net bursting with fish. And the Beloved Disciple gets it. He exclaims, “It is the Lord!” The Beloved Disciple has the eyes to see Jesus even through his loss, toil, and disappointment. He offers a testimony to what he sees, telling the others that Jesus is standing on the shore, and as a result, leading them to Jesus.

I’m learning now, in the midst of these fires and destruction, that there are still people who get it. People who see Jesus on the seashore. People like Russell and Allison Smelley, whose house burnt down only two years after their 15-year-old daughter died of a brain tumor. But they remind us that we “tread lightly in this world” for our citizenship is in heaven. Or the people like Jill Wolf, who told the local media that “they are only things” as she combed through the ashes of her house. Or the students who prayed together while they were locked inside the gym as the campus burned around them. We have been given people like the Beloved Disciple, people with eyes to see, people who get it. They see Jesus standing there, alive and present in the midst of burned neighborhoods, and they point Jesus out to the rest of us.

And it is here, in the midst of failure, loss, and disappointment that Jesus promises the disciples that he will reveal himself to others. This is a call story after all. Peter hauls in a net full of fish, is asked if he loves Jesus more than he loves fishing, and he gets told to care for God’s sheep instead of those fish. We can’t forget that Jesus has called Peter to be a fisher of people, and the catch is large. And Jesus promises that out of Peter’s struggles, failures, and disappointments, Jesus will still bring in a large catch of disciples for the Kingdom of God, in spite of Peter’s very failure to acknowledge Jesus in his most important hour, right before the crucifixion. Peter hears his restoration with his own ears, and he sees this large catch with his own eyes. That morning Jesus brought fish up to the boat, but the disciples had to follow his instructions to cast in their net and then work to bring the fish to Jesus on the shore. Jesus works through the disciples, and the disciples follow Jesus. And they see a huge blessing, a huge harvest coming out of a night of disappointment.

God has been teaching me to have the eyes of the Beloved Disciple, to see Jesus in our midst and to expect a harvest from our faithful response to his instructions in hard times. As Montecito burned, the news spread, and God’s people started praying. The news quickly traveled to area churches and to everyone connected with Westmont in any way. People started praying – for God’s mercy to save a college that transforms so many lives, to protect lives as people evacuated and battled the fire, to save homes, and for the hurricane strength winds to calm down. And you know what? God showed up for us too. While the firefighters did what they were trained to do, toiling through the night, people in Santa Barbara opened their homes to students and friends, reassuring them that though they had to literally run for their lives from the fire, they were not alone. As they battled the flames, God did calm the winds, from strong winds that should have blown for another two days, to calm conditions where lives and homes could be spared. And the same thing happened in Sylmar. People started praying, and God calmed the winds there as well. They had one day of high winds, when it should have been three. We see God standing here, perhaps in a place we wouldn’t have expected, in a place of loss and destruction.

And I am learning to expect a harvest coming out of this destruction as well. If God shows up and brings in a harvest for his Kingdom through the disciples, and then shows up in our own devastation, I am going to expect him to bring in a harvest for his Kingdom through his disciples now as well. And I am already starting to see the signs. Montecito residents have long been reluctant to accept, support, or encourage, the Christian Westmont College in their neighborhood. Westmont is seen as a threat to their way of life, their peace, and their comfort. But people have already begun to say that Montecito residents are glad for Westmont’s presence. The tensions are being lessened as the community sees what a difference it makes to have a community who prays and loves each other and loves the world right at their doorstep. As Westmont proclaims, “It is the Lord” who sustains them, who surrounds them, and who brings them through these struggles stronger and more secure in their faith, they are a witness to the surrounding neighborhood, and I am going to follow the story of the disciples, expecting that testimony to bear fruit, both in Montecito, and through the churches in Sylmar and Orange County.

So if I am following the story of the disciples, what should I expect next? In John 21, the disciples gather with Jesus for a Eucharistic meal. They eat a meal communally…the last of three communion stories in John’s Gospel. But this isn’t the communion meal that we take on Sundays in our churches, enclosed from the community around us by walls. This communion meal is out in the open, surrounded by outsiders, and it includes an expectation that the disciples will serve those outside, drawing in that huge catch of fish. It is the communion meal of a church that is continually going outside its own walls because they realize that Jesus can not be kept inside those walls. They have seen Jesus walk right through the walls to meet them inside, and now they have seen Jesus leave those walls behind to meet them on the Sea of Galilee. Jesus is already out in the community, and just as he drew the fish to the boat, he draws people to himself so that Peter (and the other disciples too) can feed his sheep.

And I do see us following the story of the disciples here too. We are to take the communion meal out into the world, surrounded by people who are not normally part of our community, and we are expected to serve out in the open. We are seeing, again, that Jesus can’t be kept locked inside walls, either the literal walls of our churches and homes, or the invisible walls of our communities and hearts. Jesus is going out into the neighborhoods, calling people to himself, and waiting for us to proclaim that “It is the Lord.” He is waiting for us now, in the middle of these fires, to go out into communities that are devastated, serving them in whatever way is needed, by giving money, helping provide shelter and the basic belongings of a new life, and loving and praying for them as they grieve. And he is waiting for us to continue to go out into the cities long after these fires have passed, still loving those who are broken, and still inviting others to see that it is Jesus who gives us life and breath and every good gift. And still proclaiming that “It is the Lord” in their midst, whether they have the eyes to see or not.

God is still at work, even in places we might not expect, revealing himself to the world in the midst of these fires, reminding us that he works good even in the worst of circumstances, calling us to recognize that “It is the Lord!” in our midst, and leading us out into the middle of broken communities to proclaim his name and serve those Jesus calls to follow him. Let us take communion here this morning, as a community that proclaims his name, and then take his communion and his love out into all the world, loving those Jesus already loves. Amen.

All Saints Day 2008 - Revelation 7:9-17

All Saints Day is important to me. It is one of my favorite church holidays, not because it is happy, but because it is good. And I know it is good because I’ve been there. I’ve seen my share of death in too few years. I’ve said goodbye to too many people. Friends, I know what it is to cry. I know what it is to be unable to focus because thoughts of a loved one are constantly on your mind. I know what it is to hear a song, see a movie, visit a location, even just hear a word, and images, memories, replay in your mind. So why is it that I love a holiday that reminds me of those who are no longer here? All Saints and All Souls Day is a time to honor those who have gone before us. It is a time to remember the saints in my own life and to remember the many things they taught me. And I love God’s promise of life in his presence that we are reminded of today.

A little over three years ago, I moved to North Carolina to start school at Duke. The day before I moved, one of my friends, Alyssa, from the church in Santa Barbara, had a seizure and ended up in ICU. She was vibrant, a runner, vocalist, and actress. She was on one of our praise bands, and only two weeks earlier, she had had a conversation with pastor Doug about wanting to lead people into worship. She wanted to help others worship God with the same love and passion she had. Alyssa was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. She lived the next 10 ½ months with grace, joy, and laughter before passing into the loving arms of Jesus on July 4^th, 2006.

I tell you Alyssa’s story not because she is unique. I know many of you could share similar stories. I tell you about Alyssa because you need to know a little about her story to understand the words Doug shared at her Celebration of Life service. Doug told the story of Alyssa asking to lead worship at the church. And he told us that now, since Alyssa had passed into the arms of Jesus, she got to fulfill that desire. As Alyssa worshipped around God’s throne, she got to lead all of us into worship. Because of her life, we were all gathered in one room, to worship God, remember his faithfulness, and celebrate the gift he had given to us all in Alyssa.

Alyssa joined the great crowd of saints who worship around the throne. That crowd that we read about in Revelation. There is a multitude no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people, and language. They are dressed in white, the same color that Revelation describes Jesus as wearing, because they have washed their robes in the blood of the Lamb. And they are all worshipping together. The angel tells John that this crowd has come out of the great tribulation. They serve God day and night. And here is the part I really love, “Never again will they hunger; never again will they thirst. The sun will not beat down on them, nor any scorching heat. For the lamb at the center before the throne will be their shepherd; he will lead them to springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

These saints have seen pain on earth. They have hungered and thirsted and cried. At times in the Roman world, Christians were persecuted for their faith. They were fed to the beasts in the coliseums. They were told to worship the emperor instead of Jesus, or alongside Jesus. They were told to sacrifice to other gods. And even when things were peaceful, they struggled to survive. They worked hard to have food from day to day. They battled all variety of illnesses. And they saw death, from life in this world and at the hands of the Roman authorities.

But John isn’t worried about the death of the saints. He sees exactly where the saints live – gathered around the throne of God. Death is not the end for God’s saints. They are resurrected. As Paul tells us, because Jesus was resurrected from the dead, we know that we too will be resurrected if we live in Christ. As we proclaim on Easter, Jesus rose from the dead. As we proclaim every day, Jesus lives. He lives! And NOTHING, absolutely nothing, can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus, not even persecution, famine, war, and death. No, we pass from this world that is seen, into a world that is not seen, but no less real, as we live with God.

Our other scripture this morning gives us a view into that crowd of saints. We hear some of the names, and we remember some of the stories. We read of so many Old Testament figures. People like Abraham, who was given a promise by God that he would receive a son, and learned to trust that God keeps his promises, even when God asked Abraham to give him back his only son. And people like Moses, who murdered a man, but was redeemed by God to lead Israel out of exile in Egypt. And people like David, who sinned repeatedly, but still loved God their whole lives. These are our witnesses, that great cloud of saints who have followed God. Not perfect people, but people who walked with God. People like us. People like the saints we have said goodbye to. Hebrews takes over a chapter telling their stories because their stories are important to our faith. As we remember how God has acted in the lives of these Biblical people, we remember a little more that God still acts in our own lives, and that God can be trusted to be faithful. Their lives give us examples for us to follow. Their lives teach us about God.

That is why the church recognizes saints after all. These are people who understood what it meant to walk with God, and they did so faithfully. The saints are people who saw God’s promises, and now see his promise of resurrection fulfilled. And we have plenty of saints to learn from. People like Augustine who explored just about every religion and every lifestyle in the Roman world before coming to know Christ. And then he faithfully led the church as a pastor and then finally as a bishop, fighting against false teaching, and encouraging the people. Or people like John Wesley, who founded Methodism, not to create a new denomination, but to revive the churches in England through the spiritual disciplines, praying, fasting, preaching, and giving away the vast majority of his income for his entire life to take care of the poor.

But it isn’t just the lives of the saints who still speak. It is also the lives of the souls who have gone to be with Christ. Those who lived quietly in a small corner of the world, faithfully trusting God day after day after day after day. Those people who taught our Sunday school classes, and first showed us who God is as they taught us the stories of the Bible. Those relatives who prayed for us because they knew that God answers prayers. Those friends who challenged us to trust God when life was hard, and who trusted God for us when we couldn’t. I have them in my own life, grandparents, friends, housemates, men and women of the churches I’ve attended. I know you have them too.

Who are your saints? Who taught you to live faithfully by their own example? And how will you pass on their stories? If it is important for us to remember the lives of the saints in Hebrews, it is important for us to remember the lives of the saints in our own lives too. So how will you remember them? Will you keep their pictures up on your walls? Will you remember their lives at family dinners? Will you watch old family videos and look through old photo albums together?

You know the lessons of their lives. I would consider myself faithful if I lived as trusting as Alyssa, knowing that God is good, regardless of her circumstances, and finding joy in the simple pleasures of life. I am seeking to “run with perseverance the race marked out for me, fixing my eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.” Will we be a part of that crowd around the throne who lived faithfully? People whose lives still speak of God’s faithfulness after we have passed into the loving arms of Jesus? Let us pray and persevere that it may be so.

John 19:1-16 Christ is Beaten and Broken

In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Silence. I was worried that it might be awkward. But how else do you respond to a Scripture that begins with Jesus being scourged?

“Then Pilate took Jesus and had him scourged. And the soldiers, having made a crown out of thorns, put it on his head, and they threw a purple robe around him. And they came to him and said, ‘Hail, King of the Judeans!’”

Reading a Scripture like today’s is troubling. These aren’t the backgrounds to this morning’s songs. They aren't the images of the Psalms – trees planted by streams, green pastures, and banquet tables. They aren’t even the images of Job – storehouses of hail and roaring lions. These images are real, and brutal. Pilate turns Jesus over to be scourged. When the Jews whipped someone as punishment, they were restricted to 39 lashings. They gave 40 lashes minus 1 because 40 lashes could kill a person. But these are not Jewish officials whipping Jesus. These are Roman soldiers who are scourging him. The Romans had braided cords into a whip and embedded pieces of metal inside of it. These whips were designed to tear the skin off of your back. And this is scourging. This is what the soldiers inflicted upon Jesus.

And the soldiers, mocking Jesus, made a wreath out of thorns and put it on Jesus’ head. Then they took a purple garment and threw it over his shoulders. Purple, the color of royalty. And the soldiers threw it over the shoulders of an exhausted bloody man. Then they mocked him. As the soldiers hit Jesus; they mocked, “Hail, King of the Judeans!

For a visual person like myself, these pictures are excruciating. I see a broken man, being whipped mercilessly, his back torn apart by shards of metal, clinging to life. (Picture 1 – Pacher - Flagellation) And I see the blood dripping down his face as the thorns puncture his brow. (Picture 2 – Holbein Younger - Passion) And I see him fall as he receives blow after blow from the soldier’s fists. He is a pitiful, broken, powerless man. (Picture 3 – Passion – Crown Thorns))

My reaction, more than anything else, is STOP! Stop beating this man. Can’t you see that he isn’t a threat to you any longer? ||

I do understand the soldiers’ reactions. I know that the scourgings and crucifixions weren’t designed to be painful (although they were) as much as they were designed to shame you. The soldiers’ mocking words provide us with a clue about why Jesus was before the Roman authorities to begin with. Jesus was dangerous because he was introducing sedition, rebellion, into the Roman Empire. When the people view someone as their king, they stop listening to the emperor. The Romans can’t have Jesus inciting a rebellion. So the soldiers actions make sense. When they have power over a person who is viewed as a king, they teach him a lesson. They give him a crown and a king’s robe, and they proclaim him king as they beat him to show him how powerless he is. | I understand why the soldiers act the way they do. But I still want it to stop. And I wonder if they realize how ridiculous it is to keep beating a broken man.

But we are only three verses into this passage.

“And Pilate came out again, and he said to them, ‘Behold, I bring him out to you, in order that you might know that I have found no crime in him.’ Then Jesus came out, wearing the thorny crown and the purple robe. And he said to them, ‘Behold the man.’”

It isn’t enough that Jesus was beaten and mocked by the soldiers. Now he is paraded before the crowds. While I wouldn’t put it past a man of Pilate’s reputation to have an innocent man scourged because he felt like it, I doubt he would have taken all of this time if he truly believed Jesus was innocent. He’s parading Jesus before the Judeans, before the people who are supposed to be his followers, proving to them that Jesus is not their king, but is really a pitiful, powerless man. (Picture 4 – Durer Ecco Homo) And we know that Pilate believes that the Judeans see Jesus as a king because he tells us so. Pilate brings Jesus out before the crowd again and says, “Behold your king.” He even asks, “Shall I crucify your king?”

What becomes abundantly apparent throughout this dialogue is that Pilate and the high priests are speaking the truth without even knowing it. Jesus really is the King.

So Pilate has brought Jesus out and paraded him before the Judeans. And “When the high priests and attendants saw him, they shouted, saying, ‘Crucify! Crucify!’ Pilate said to them, ‘you take him and crucify him, for I have found no charge in him.’ The Judeans answered him, ‘We have a law, and according to the law he should die, because he made himself a Son of God.’”

I suppose that I understand the high priests’ response too, although I never quite get how they can care so much about details of the law without caring about the people or the major points of the law. There IS a law against blasphemy after all. We are not supposed to use the Lord’s name in vain or make anything or anyone, ourselves included, into gods. So the high priests think that they are doing right. They are condemning Jesus for setting himself up to be God. The problem is, they never stop to ask whether Jesus might actually be God. It wouldn’t be the first time God had done something unusual. Jesus’ trial is even happening on the day of preparation of the Passover. Talk about one of God’s surprising events. Frogs, flies, water turning into blood, escaping through the Sea of Reeds, and destroying an enemy army. God certainly surprises. But the high priests don’t ask if Jesus really is God. Instead they fulfill the law by demanding his crucifixion.

Ironically, they kill an innocent man, in violation of the command against murder, and they neglect the preparation of the Passover, which they have been commanded to keep each year. And they do it all because of the same Torah. Not realizing that they speak truth. Jesus really is the Son of God.

When Pilate hears the high priests’ charge, he is afraid. “When Pilate heard this word, he was greatly afraid. And he came again into the praetorium [(or governor’s house)], and he said to Jesus, ‘From where do you come?’ but Jesus did not give answer to him. Therefore Pilate said to him, ‘Do you not speak to me? Do you not know that I have the power to release you and the power to crucify you?’ Jesus answered him, ‘You do not have any power over me except what was given to you from above. Because of this, the one who handed me over to you has the greater sin.’”

Pilate is afraid that he might be trying a son of the gods. Not an unreasonable fear for an educated Roman man who knows the stories of the Roman gods and goddesses and how they walk among humans in human form. He wants to be absolutely sure that he is not crucifying one of the gods, so he asks Jesus directly, “From where do you come?” It is here that Jesus becomes mute. This is his chance to vindicate himself, to proclaim the truth that he is Immanuel, God with us. But Jesus is silent, fulfilling the prophecy of Isaiah 53 (7). “He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth. He was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before his shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth.”

Jesus does not need to answer Pilate’s question because he knows that God is the one in control. All power is God’s. Our power comes only as God gives it to us. We may use it for good or for evil, to serve God or to serve ourselves, but power is bestowed by God. Jesus does not need to answer Pilate because he knows that ultimately Pilate is not in control. God is. And Jesus serves his Father.

Still, one of my friends says that Jesus’ silence used to make her mad. Why wouldn’t he talk? Jesus does not answer from where he comes. In fact, he never does. The question has shown up from the beginning, in chapter 1, when John the Baptist and the disciples are first meeting Jesus. But Jesus doesn’t answer it there either. It seems that his life is the witness of his origins, and God must reveal the meaning of these signs to us.

But there in chapter 1 also, Jesus is called the lamb of God, like in Isaiah 53. And John is careful to tell us that it is noon on the preparation of the Passover. The Preparation of the Passover is to rid the house of yeast, make unleavened bread, and slaughter the lambs. Slaughter the lambs, one for each family or couple of families, perfect and without blemish of any kind. Slaughter the lambs, in remembrance of that first Passover, when the blood of those lambs, spread on the doorframes of the houses caused death to pass over those households. Jesus is sacrificed as the Passover Lamb.

That is pretty amazing. The plague of the firstborn is what allowed the Israelites to leave captivity in Egypt, and the slaughter of the lambs is what allowed death to pass over the Israelite households. And here in John we have a new Passover. The Lamb of God is slaughtered, and his blood covers the lives of God’s people, a signal that death has no power here and should pass over, and allowing us to escape our captivity to sin and death.

It is an amazing story. The King is mocked, scourged, and beaten by his subjects, those he could destroy if he so desired. The Son of God is handed over by the very priests who should know him. The Lamb of God is slaughtered by the captives to save those who are in captivity. It is a painful story, and yet it is good news. We traditionally remember the crucifixion on GOOD Friday. We proclaim that this story of death is GOOD news. And it is good news. It is the revealing of the King of Israel. It is the story of Immanuel, God with us. It is the release of the captives, and our escape from death and bondage. Good news. The most painful, heart-wrenching good news ever told. Take a moment to reflect on this good news, and on our King, Immanuel, Lamb of God. Amen.

(Play How Deep the Father’s Love for Us)

Romans 6:1-23 The Freedom of God

It is at times like these, around America’s patriotic holidays, that I need a reminder of what it means to be a member of the church. Ray Boltz, a Christian musician, has a song that provides just such a reminder. In the chorus, he boldly proclaims:

“I pledge allegiance to the lamb, with all my strength, with all I am. I will seek to honor his commands. I pledge allegiance to the lamb.”

This is not the pledge our children recite in schools, nor is it the proclamation we heard at Independence Day celebrations this weekend. But it should be our proclamation as members of the body of Christ.

Now I do not think that we should hate America, or even that we should necessarily disobey its rules. A little later in the letter to the Romans, Paul will tell the churches to obey their earthly authorities because they also have been appointed by God. But our obedience and allegiance is first and foremost to Christ.

In the first years after the crucifixion, Christians started to be persecuted, first by zealous Jews like Paul, and then by Roman authorities who viewed Christianity as sedition, a horrible crime in their eyes. The Romans were actually correct. Jesus is politically threatening. He calls people to follow him above family, friends, job, and country. The people who follow Jesus are ruled by his blood and their obedience to him, before, and at times instead of, obedience to government officials. So the Romans were actually correct when they realized that the Christians would not give their ultimate allegiance to Rome.

In our Christian history, we have the stories of the martyrs – those Christians who stood by their proclamation of faith in God even when it cost them their lives. There are people like the Bishop Polycarp, who faithfully strengthened his churches when he was being led to his death. Even when he was given multiple chances to deny being a Christian, Polycarp always stood strong until he was finally led into the arena to be killed by wild animals. Polycarp had one choice to make to save his life from the Romans by denying Christ, or to follow Jesus in obedience even to his death.

Justin Martyr was an apologist who tried to convince the Romans to stop condemning Christians for their faith. He explained that Christians were good Roman citizens who followed the laws, cared for the sick, and paid taxes. The one thing that Christians would not do, according to Justin, was offer sacrifices to or worship any god or person besides the God of Jesus Christ. As his name suggests, Justin too was martyred by the Romans.

For all of these martyrs, from the 1^st century until today, obedience to Jesus was the goal of their lives. They had tasted the kingdom of God and were pursuing it no matter what the cost. By the time Paul wrote Romans, he had also known suffering and imprisonment, yet he gives a broader perspective reminding us of the work Christ has done and why we seek to live in holiness and obedience.

In America, we like to think of ourselves as free, and as those who offer freedom to people who are oppressed. Modern society has trained us well to make our own decisions and rely only on ourselves. We think we are free.

But when we have experienced the salvation of God, we learn that we were not really free. In Rom 7, Paul tells us that we were controlled by our sinful natures. Look at verse 14:

¹⁴We know that the law is spiritual, but I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin. ¹⁵ I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. ¹⁶ And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. ¹⁷ as it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. ¹⁸ I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. ¹⁹ For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do – this I keep on doing. ²⁰ Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.

This is who we were. Instead of being free as we thought, we were in bondage and captivity to the powers of sin and death. Paul has many choice phrases for our condition. We were: ruled by sin, mastered by death, obeying evil desires, aroused by sinful passions, and doing what is evil. We are not free. We are in slavery to evil, sin, and death, and we need a redeemer.

Although we were once in slavery to sin and death, we have been set free by the blood of Jesus, and he, the only God, became human and walked the earth among us. He has lived a faithful life where we have fallen short, and then he has been crucified and resurrected on the third day. And we participate in the redemption of Jesus. Look back at chapter 6 verse 3.

“Don’t you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? ⁴ we were therefore buried with him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life. ⁵ If we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly also be untied with him in a resurrection like his. ⁶ For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body ruled by sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin – ⁷ because anyone who has died has been set free from sin.

Jesus’ death and resurrection are not abstract ideas which seem good. His death and resurrection are not even historical events which happened to Jesus and which we remember. We actually participate in Jesus’ life, death and resurrection. As we are baptized, the water symbolizes our death to the old life and our rising to new life in Christ. The Holy Spirit draws us into the life of Christ and into the holiness and faithfulness which are his.

|| If this is who we are, people who participate in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ, and who are being drawn up into the holiness of Christ, then Paul is right. Our lives are being transformed as we submit ourselves to the authority of Christ. We surrender what we thought was freedom, and we find that we are truly free only as we serve God and surrender to him. Instead of thinking that freedom means having no restrictions, we learn that we gain greater freedom through disciplined obedience. Just as a gymnast gains the freedom to do more difficult flips by the discipline of 5 hour work outs. Just as the pianist gains the freedom to play a Mozart requiem through the discipline of scales and sight-reading. Our discipline in obedience to Christ gives us the freedom to do even greater works for his kingdom as we are drawn further into the holiness of Christ.

As we live in that holiness, our lives are transformed. Our decisions begin to conform to God’s commands as we participate in his grace. We live more like the Sermon on the Mount, forgiving each other, sharing our lives with each other, and helping the weak and poor. We learn to build one another up, making sure that our words and actions are life-giving instead of life-taking, just as Anny spoke of two weeks ago, and we contribute our gifts and talents to the building up of Christ’s body, which is the church.

This disciplined obedience also means that we live in service to him and not anything else. We do not live in service to our jobs or making money. We are not controlled by the demands of style and high society. We are not restricted by a particular location, but are free to follow obediently, like Jared and Catherine. We realize that our families do not belong to us but are gifts from God, given as a trust for us to care for and lead in obedience to Christ. When obedience to Christ does not conflict with these other areas of our lives, then we are free to offer them obedience below our obedience to Christ. But if following Christ conflicts with the other demands on our lives, our obedience to Christ must come first.

As we participate in the work which God is doing, and as all of the areas of our lives are brought into the patter of Christ, we catch a glimpse of why the martyrs would die for Christ and how they would be able to confess Christ even when their lives are threatened.

The martyrs have been baptized with Christ and have died with him. They knew that they would also be raised to new life with Christ. They had surrendered to Christ in obedience and been disciplined in following him in every area of their lives. So when persecutions came, nothing that people could do could take away their love and obedience to Jesus. They would risk losing their jobs instead of taking advantage of a system that rewarded those who denied Jesus. They would lose friends, relatives, and community members who did not approve of their commitment to Christ, but they had gained citizenship in a new kingdom called Heaven, and they lived only as resident aliens in their own countries. They withstood being thrown in prison, knowing that their witness was not for destruction but was used by God for the spreading of the gospel. They even faced death, but they knew that they had already died with Christ, so no earthly being could kill their souls.

Our brother Paul was another of the many saints who have been martyred throughout the ages. He had seen many sufferings, as he recounts for us in 2 Corinthians 11, beginning in the second half of verse 21:

Whatever anyone else dares to boast about – I am speaking like a fool – I also dare to boast about./ Are they Hebrews? So am I. Are they Israelites? So am i. Are they Abraham’s descendants? So am I. Are they servants of Christ? (I am out of my mind to talk like this.) I am more. I have worked much harder, been in prison more frequently, been flogged more severely, and been exposed to death again and again. Five times I received from the Jews the forty lashes minus 1. (40 lashes could kill a person, so the Jews, reduced the number by 1.)here times I was beaten with rods (this is the Roman punishment, given out by Roman authorities). Once I was stoned. Three times I was shipwrecked, I spent a night and a day in the open sea, I have been constantly on the move, I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from my own people, in danger from Gentiles; in danger in the city, in danger in the country, in danger at sea; and in danger from false believers. I have labored and toiled and have often gone without sleep; I have known hunger and thirst and have often gone without food. I have been cold and naked. Besides everything else, I face daily the pressure of my concern for all the churches…….And finally at the end of the list, in chapter 12 verse 9, Paul ends by saying, “The Lord said to me, My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties, for when I am weak, then I am strong.

Paul had been so trained in the obedience of his baptism, that all of those sufferings actually became the strength of Christ and spread the news of the gospel, allowing Paul to do even greater work for the kingdom of God.

As we follow the examples of people like Paul, Justin, and Polycarp, and the thousands of other martyrs throughout history, we are drawn into Christ and transformed into obedient children of God. we become people who will live in obedience to Christ no matter what the cost, and giving up our obedience to other things that desire our service and worship. L

As we seek to live into our baptism with Christ, let us today reaffirm our baptismal vows. As the liturgy appears on the screen, I invite you to consider the words you are proclaiming. At the end of the liturgy, there will be time for you to remember your baptism as you come forward to the water, dip your fingers in the bowl, and trace the sign of the cross on your forehead. If you desire either prayer or confession before you approach the waters, please approach Pastor Susan or Pastor Anny on either side of the altar, or feel free to kneel at the front. A video will be playing while you pray.

First Sunday of Easter - Ps 16:8-11, Jn 20:19-31, 1 Pet 1:3-9

As we walk through this season of Easter, the people and stories of the Bible are our companions. They will be in the same place we are in this Easter season. Today we are here after the resurrection, having celebrated last week. Today we begin to discover what it means to live with a Risen Lord, not simply alive, for he’s been crucified and buried. But he’s not at all dead, for Jesus walks in our midst. We start to learn what it means to have a Jesus who lives forever and walks through walls. On this journey, we have the disciples gathered behind locked doors and we have Peter’s church. We journey together.

Today is the Sunday after Easter. Somewhere along the line, a people began calling today “low Sunday,” some of them because the number of people sitting in the pews tends to drop the Sunday after Easter. But for others, today became “Low Sunday” because Easter was an emotional high, a mountaintop experience; and this Sunday the church had reentered the valleys, the emotionally mundane.

One of my favorite Christian musicians is Bebo Norman. I listen to him while I’m studying and in my car. His songs find their way into my workout mixes and into my prayers. And this morning, one of his songs is finding its way into my sermon.

As I thought about Easter being a mountaintop, the words of Bebo’s “Walk Down This Mountain” started playing in my mind. “It’s a better place / Standing high upon this mountain / I’ve seen your face / full of the light that only this height can show / A blistered hand is what you’ve given / But you’ve been given all you’ll ever need to know.”

The mountaintop is good. We see God’s face on the mountain. The air is clearer. We are free of smog and traffic, free of busyness and worries, free of jobs and crying children. We have time to listen and time to be with God. The mountaintop is our spiritual vacation where we relax in God’s presence and are refreshed. Think of the mountaintop as your place of escape for a moment. Close your eyes and picture it. Laying in a meadow watching the clouds rush past. || Sitting on the beach as the waves crash on the sand. || Walking through a forest as the sun reflects off of the trees. || Sitting in your own private garden. || Here you can feel the stillness. The noise is silenced long enough to hear your own thoughts. The chaos is halted long enough for you to meet God. This is the mountaintop. On the mountaintop, we meet God, and Easter is certainly a mountaintop for the church.

On Easter we see Jesus resurrected, and we see him revealed as who he really is. The god incarnate; God made flesh and dwelling here in our midst. Throughout the Gospel of John, we have been told that Jesus’ actions are signs, signs pointing us in the right direction. And here at the end of the gospel, we see the greatest sign of all, the cross and resurrection, Good Friday and Easter Sunday. What a mountaintop. We have seen Jesus raised. We have seen God.

As we sit here this morning, the United Methodist Church in Haw River, North Carolina, 2008, we join a long line of people who have met God on the mountain. It is an important place for the people of God. Moses met God on the mountaintop and came down with the ten commandments. Elijah went up on the mountaintop an defeated the prophets of Baal when God sent fire from heaven to consume the evening sacrifice, and he came down to an Israel that had turned away from idols. Jesus went up on the mountain with his disciples and was transfigured there, and they came down having seen the glory of God in Jesus. Upon on the mountaintop we meet God. But none of these people stayed on the mountain. They came down and returned to life among the people of God. But something had happened on the mountain. They were changed. The time on the mountaintop transformed life in the valleys.

So we gather here this morning having been on the mountain. We have met God. We have waited through the cross and the tomb, and we have seen the Risen Jesus. And we too have been changed as we reenter the valleys on this Sunday after Easter. Life in the valleys looks different after the resurrection.

Thankfully we are not alone on this journey. We have as traveling companions the disciples and Peter’s church, the people and the stories of the scriptures. The disciples are gathered in the house behind locked doors. They know about the empty tomb. That morning Peter and the disciple Jesus loved had seen the grave clothes laying in the tomb. And Mary had seen Jesus and talked with him. She had told the disciples everything Jesus had said. Yet that night we still see the disciples locked behind closed doors, locked in fear.

The disciples have good reason to be afraid of the Judeans. They were still in Jerusalem after all, and it was the temple leaders in Judea who had put Jesus to death. They had already decided in Jn 9 that everyone who said Jesus was the Messiah would be expelled from the synagogue. And the Jerusalem leaders wanted to kill Lazarus as well because many people believed in Jesus because of Lazarus. Peter knew to be afraid. He had stood in the high priest’s courtyard when the girl recognized him as a follower of Jesus. Yes, the disciples had good reason to be afraid.

But Mary had told them that Jesus was alive, and they themselves had seen the empty tomb. They knew Jesus was not dead. They had been to the mountaintop of Easter morning. The disciples knew Jesus was alive, but like us, they had to learn how the resurrection transforms the valleys.

Into a room full of fear and death, Jesus enters, right through the WALLS! The first words out of Jesus’ mouth are “peace be with you.” Peace, not fear. It’s hard to be afraid of the Judeans when the person they killed comes back to life. Fear has no power. “Peace be with you.”

Then Jesus shows them his hands and his side. He isn’t a ghost or a vision. Jesus really stands in the room. He has a real body, and he still carries the signs of his death. But death doesn’t have any power either. A resurrected, living man bears those holes in his hands, feet, and side.

As the disciples recognize Jesus, he says again, “Peace be with you,” and he sends them out to do God’s work. The first person they go to is Thomas. They tell him that they have seen Jesus, but he doesn’t seem to know what that means for life in the valleys. We can’t really blame Thomas for not understanding. After all, the disciples didn’t understand either when Mary told them.

So a week later, Jesus comes again, and this time Thomas is present. Again he says, “Peace be with you.” Peace, again? Jesus really wants to convey that his risen presence brings peace doesn’t he? In 7 verses, he says it 3 times. Peace, do not fear. Peace, Jesus is alive. Peace, all of your doubts disappear in his presence.

Jesus tells Thomas to put his fingers into the holes in his hands, but Thomas doesn’t do it. Jesus’ presence and his proclamation of peace actually bring peace for Thomas’ doubts. He proclaims, “My Lord and my God.” And Jesus responds with his famous line, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” Blessed are those who have believed the testimony of others that Jesus is risen.

Blessed is Peter’s church. Peter encourages the people with the words, “Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him.” Yes, Peter’s church also stands with us in the valleys after the mountaintop of Easter, and Peter is helping them navigate life in the valleys.

[Read from Bible] “In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil, or fade,” and “in this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials.” This church is certainly in the valleys. They are being persecuted because they live in Christ. Later in the letter, we read that the people used to live as the pagans did, partying at the festivals, drinking for days, satisfying their lusts, and committing idolatry, but now they have stopped partying with their friends and started worshipping God. Their friends are persecuting and abusing the Christians. They are suffering under trials, but they rejoice in God’s power and strength.

The resurrection has transformed this church and its time in the valleys. They have been born into a living hope and they are not troubled by the trials and temptations. They are not afraid, and they are not doubting. They are not consumed by worry. They live in a state of peace. They have been given new birth. Birth is not a fleeting or occasional gift. When we were born, we entered the state of being alive. We are now a part of the world, and we cannot simply choose to be unborn whenever we like. This is Peter’s description of Christians. We have received birth into hope and an eternal inheritance. We have been born into joy and a peace which remains in spite of this life’s trials.

This is one of the ways we navigate life in the valleys. We are born into a state of peace when the Risen Jesus enters the room and transforms our lives. Think about life without Jesus. It is controlled by fear and worry. There is no one who has conquered death. There is no hope for transformation, and there is no confidence that God will sustain. People worry that their children’s career choices will never work out. They worry that they might one day get sick. Often they die in terror, worrying about the end of their existence. In a world of fear and worry, peace is one of our greatest witnesses to the Risen Jesus.

Think of the tax commercial playing this year. The men are in a sauna, and the one says that he can’t sweat anymore. The other men say he will sweat because of tax season, but he says that he has people. We are like that man. We have Jesus, so we live in a state of peace. We follow Jesus, unafraid of how we might be treated. Maybe the boss will be unhappy that we won’t work on Sundays, but we know that the boss’s opinion is not the one that really matters. Maybe our friends will ridicule and stand up against us, but we know that Jesus has promised to surround us with his power. Maybe children will make poor choices, but we know that Jesus has promised to be with them and is working to lead them to live wisely and follow God faithfully. In a world where many conversations are filled with worry, fear, and stress, the church who sees the risen Jesus and lives in peace is quite a witness.

Peace is the reality of the Christian life. It is like we are standing in the middle of a garden. Tranquility reigns, and our hearts and minds are stilled to be with God. But the world outside of the garden is busy, tired, stressed, and afraid, and there are many doors leading into this world of worry. We are constantly tempted to leave the garden of peace and worry like the outside world worries. If you have left the garden, look back to the Risen Jesus who stands in our midst and come back to this state of peace. Your presence in this realm of peace will draw others in as well, and they too will meet the Risen Lord.

WE live lives of peace transformed by the presence of Jesus standing in our midst. Easter was a mountaintop, and it was peaceful up there. But the valleys are also changed by our time on the mountain. Our companions today have show us that life in the valleys is also a life of peace, even in a world of worry and fear. But as we walk down this mountain into the valleys, the peace we have because we have seen the Lord witnesses back to the mountain, to Easter, to the resurrection, and to the Risen Jesus who stands among us. So walk down this mountain with peace in your hearts.

As Bebo’s song plays for us, I invite you to go to God in prayer and ask whether you have been seduced to leaving the garden of peace. Ask if your life of peace is witnessing to the mountaintop. Finally, ask if you are crouched on the mountaintop and God wants you to walk down the mountain transformed for the valley to witness to his resurrection.