PSALM 116 - A REFLECTION

THE  THIRD  SUNDAY  OF  EASTER 

PSALM 116

Authorized King James Version

I love the Lord, because he hath heard my voice and my supplications.

          Because he hath inclined his ear unto me, therefore will I call upon him as long as I live.

The sorrows of death compassed me, and the pains of hell gat hold upon me: I found trouble and sorrow.

         Then called I upon the name of the Lord; O Lord, I beseech thee, deliver my soul.

Gracious is the Lord, and righteous; yea, our God is merciful.

         The Lord preserveth the simple: I was brought low, and he helped me.

Return unto thy rest, O my soul; for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee.

          For thou hast delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears, and my feet from

          falling.

I will walk before the Lord in the land of the living.

         I believed, therefore have I spoken: I was greatly afflicted: 

I said in my haste, All men are liars.

        What shall I render unto the Lord for all his benefits toward me?

I will take the cup of salvation, and call upon the name of the Lord.

         I will pay my vows unto the Lord now in the presence of all his people.

Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.

        O Lord, truly I am thy servant; I am thy servant, and the son of thine handmaid: thou hast

        loosed my bonds.

I will offer to thee the sacrifice of thanksgiving, and will call upon the name of the Lord.

        I will pay my vows unto the Lord now in the presence of all his people.

In the courts of the Lord's house, in the midst of thee, O Jerusalem. Praise ye the Lord.

A REFLECTION ON THE PSALMS 

By Norm Wright

One of my favorite psalms is the psalm for today, Psalm 116.   Today, I want to take a moment to reflect on the psalms and their importance in our lives. We say them or a portion of them every Sunday.   Personally speaking, when things get really tough or when I find myself not knowing where to turn and in need of an outlet to express what’s going on inside of me, I can turn to the Psalms and find a psalm like today’s psalm that speaks to my soul and speaks for my soul.  

If the Gospel of John is the most quoted book in the New Testament, the Psalms are the most quoted book in the entire Holy Bible.  The psalms may have been written by others who were thinking about something entirely different than what is going on in our lives, but within all of them resides a human imprint, universal to all. The psalms are an outpouring to God of the vast array of the human condition experienced throughout all ages.  

If one is trying to find words to express what going on inside of oneself, the psalms do not disappoint. As Psalm 55:22 invites, “Cast thy burden upon the Lord and he shall sustain thee.”  There are psalms that express the depth of our despair and woe; just as there are psalms expressing our unabashed joy and happiness which exceeds our capacity to do so adequately; causing the psalmists to invite the entire universe to join in expressing our joy and praise.

My favorite version of the Book of Psalms is the King James Version simply because of its lyric language that sings even when it is said.  It captures in its poetic language the expression of human emotion that takes one’s raw feelings and converts them into the language of worship.  Yes, anger as worship, depression as worship, sorrow as worship, joy a worship, and praise as worship.  

Worship is meant to be a kenotic act, a pouring out of whatever is inside of us.  Worship is where we empty ourselves of our small self to make room for the SELF of God; to engage with and participate in God’s creative will.

This past Wednesday, Earth Day, my wife and I decided to take a walk to Nebraska from our house (about a 4.5 mile round trip) on what turned out to be one of the nicest days of the year.  It was a journey into a psalm of praise as expressed in bird song, a gentle breeze, and the swirling dance-movement of the Missouri River we crossed over to get to Nebraska.  

One of the lessons being learned during this pandemic is that as the human world has had to slow up, healing of the Earth is taking place.  Air quality has vastly improved in cities that have not experienced clean air for decades. Rivers that have been heavily polluted are cleaning up on their own.  What does this tell us about the impact we humans have on our environment?

In the midst of so much human suffering and death, we see God renewing life. In earth’s recovery is an important message we should not dismiss in our haste to return to the recent normal we knew before this pandemic started  

During this pandemic, we are being given an opportunity to evaluate what is truly important about life.  We are being given an opportunity to heal our brokenness, to bring ourselves closer to each other as individuals, as families, as communities, as nations, as a world, and to bring us closer to all other life forms we share this planet home with. 

While this pandemic is not God’s will, God’s will is always done in whatever occurs.  God works with and through the acts of nature, just as God acts with and through our actions or the lack of them. We can see God’s will manifested in the contours of life shaped by its steady flow and in its outpouring of new life and love.  At times such as these, we are reminded that we are not above nature but are a part of it.  If we harm it, we harm ourselves. If we try to impose our will against the gentle but steady flow of God’s will, God’s will shapes whatever is attempting to block it to God’s purpose.  

In the creation story of Genesis, we are called to be stewards of nature and care for our planet home, which we often fail to do and has resulted in devastating effects on the ecology of our terrestrial home.  Nevertheless, there is hope that from this experience a better world, a healthier world, and a kinder world will emerge.  

While much sadness and loss of human life continues as a result of this pandemic, today’s psalm assures us that those who have passed away and those who mourn their passing are, “Precious in the sight of the Lord.”  God does not treat the death of anyone lightly. Nothing (nobody) is lost in the love of God.   

God brought us into life and God will claim us as his own at its end.  “We are his for he made us,” Psalm 100 reminds us.  As poetic and as lyrical as the psalms are, they keep us grounded in what is true and lasting.  They are our soul-songs; created from the depths of woes and the heights of ecstatic joy   

Psalm 116 reminds us of the importance of recognizing God who is with us in our moments of strife and who walks us through them. It reminds us that that no one is above “the simple;” that in moments of general strife, we find ourselves on a simple, level playing field that is given voice in the responsive refrain heard throughout the world today, “We’re in this together.”  

Psalm 116 reminds us that such things as we are now experiencing should not result in a rush to judgement of others; that we must bear with patience the impatience of others.  It reminds us that we must trust in our better angels and in the potential goodness within every person.  

Above all, we are reminded on this third Sunday of Easter to trust in God who, having raised Jesus from death to life, will raise us up also.

The psalmist asks the question we should not avoid asking in a trying time, “What shall I render for all for a God’s benefits towards me?   

The psalmist answers, “I will take the cup of salvation and call upon the name of he Lord.  I will pay my vows in the presence of all people.”

The “cup of salvation” is often understood by Christians to mean Holy Communion, but there is an older meaning to the idea of taking the cup being offered.   It also means accepting and conforming to the will of God, as Jesus did in the Garden of Gethsemane when he said, “Not my will but thine be done.” In taking the cup of salvation, we agree to participate in God’s salvific will for all creation; and in doing so recognize that it is God who saves us and not ourselves.    

The psalmist reminds us to pay our vows before all people.   

We can read it as referring to our baptismal vows to be the Body of Christ in our world or to be true to our human calling as the caretakers of creation.

The psalmist concludes this psalm with a realization:  “O Lord, truly I am thy servant; I am thy servant, and the son of thine handmaid: thou hast loosed my bonds.”

As was true for the psalmist, the time will come when the bonds of our isolation and social distancing will be loosened.  

The time will come for us to gather and take the cup of salvation as an offering of thanksgiving.

The time will come for us to pay our vows in the presence of all people.

The time will come for us to call upon the name of the Lord in God’s house of worship.

Gracious God, grant rest to our weary souls and deliver us from all fear; instill in us a confident and enduring faith that when the bonds of this pandemic are loosened we can gather together in joy, take up the cup of salvation, and call upon your Name.  All this we ask through Jesus Christ our Lord. 

Amen.

DOUBT THAT LEADS TO FAITH - A REFLECTION

TEXT: John 20:19-31

A HOMILETIC STUDY AND REFLECTION ON THE GOSPEL OF JOHN

By Norm Wright

STUDY

The story of  “Doubting Thomas” only occurs in the Gospel of John and as long as I can remember, Thomas’ story has always intrigued me.  Hearing this story as a small child, I always felt bad for Thomas because the story makes it appear he was left out when Jesus met with his disciples for the first time after his resurrection.  Thomas wasn’t at the surprise party the other disciples had experienced; as such, there appears to be more than a tinge of resentment in his reaction when he suggests that, perhaps, they were making things up or that the experience they were so excited about was just a matter of wishful-thinking.

There is more to the story, more than just casting Thomas in the role of a Missourian from the “Show-me” state.  In fact, the “Doubting” Thomas portion of today’s Gospel lesson can easily hide an important event that was taking place. It is easy to overlook that the author of John places the Pentecost moment as occurring on the same day as Jesus’s resurrection; not fifty days after the resurrection or occurring on the Jewish feast of Pentecost, which is when the Christian day of Pentecost occurs in the Acts of the Apostles. 

In John’s version, Jesus appears behind the closed door of the place where the other ten disciples had gathered on the evening of Easter.  Jesus says to them, “Peace be with you,”  and shows them the wounds left by the nails in his hands and the wound where a spear pierced his side. Jesus says again, “Peace to with you” and breathes on them saying, “Receive the Holy Spirit. As the Father sent me, so send I you. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” Thomas, not being present for this event, presents a conundrum.  

If Thomas wasn’t there, did he receive the Holy Spirit?  As we shall see, Thomas demonstrates his receiving the Holy Spirit as John’s narrative moves along.

Thomas plays a prominent role in the Gospel of John.  He is the one who in the story of Lazarus being raised by Jesus makes the cryptic comment about heading to Judea to die with him (Lazarus).  He is also the disciple whose question, “Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way,” leads Jesus to reply, “I am the way and the truth and the life…” [John 14:5-6a]

If you are wondering what Thomas was doing during those seven days before meeting with the other disciples, the simple answer is we don’t know.  As I mentioned in last Sunday’s homily, something left undefined is defining.  Being a late-comer to the resurrection appearance casts Thomas as the representative of all late-comers; such as, ourselves and, in particular, those who remain skeptical and unconvinced about Jesus’ resurrection. 

In spite of his skepticism, Thomas remains friends with Jesus’ other disciples. Their faith in seeing Jesus suggests that amid his skepticism there is a nagging doubt residing in Thomas that will lead him to faith. While Thomas is with the other disciples, Jesus appears to them and says, “Peace be with you.” Then Jesus invites Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe” to which Thomas responds, “My Lord and my God.”   

Let’s pause a moment.   What’s missing in the above paragraph? 

The common assumption is that Thomas does what Jesus directs him to do, but does he?  

John’s authors does not say that he did.  John’s author, who is good at editorializing an event to make sure we understand what is going on, is suggestively silent on the subject.

What is confusing with Jesus’ invitation to have Thomas touch him is that in verse 17 of this same chapter, Jesus directs Mary Magdalene not to “hold” (touch) him because he had not ascended to his Father.  

Given the context of this chapter and the fact that John does not specifically say Thomas touched Jesus, one is compelled by the lack of  clear evidence to say Thomas did not physically touch Jesus’ wounds.  In addition, on hearing Jesus’ invitation, Thomas immediately responds, “My Lord and my God.” In turn, Jesus immediately says, “Have you believed because you have seen (not touched) me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” 

One might question whether Thomas touching or not touching Jesus’ wounds matter.  

It does. 

Throughout the Gospel of John a pattern is developed that addresses two types of  perception: seeing what things appear to be through our physical senses of sight, sound, and touch, and perceiving things as they truly are, through faith. In John the only way to perceive Jesus as the Incarnate Word and the Risen Christ of God is when Jesus reveals himself as such. The first type of perception relates to believing through intellectual assent.  The second type of perception is through faith, as trust in who Jesus reveals himself to be.  

This literally gets lost in translation because in John the word believe is primarily use to translate a verb form of the original Greek word used in the original text, which is faith.. To illustrate the difference, I translated this passage from the original Greek to demonstrate that what we understand as belief or believe (as intellectual assent) is not what the original text is talking about.  

Translating πίστις (faith) as faith, the conversation between Jesus and Thomas goes like this, “Then he (Jesus) said to Thomas, ‘Bring your finger here and see my hands, and bring your hand and put it into my side.  Be not faithless, but faithful. Thomas answered, “My Lord and my God.” Jesus says to him, “Because you have seen me you have faith? Blessed are the ones who have not seen and have faith.”  In other words, John is saying to us, “Don’t feel bad if you weren’t in on the original surprise party. Faith is better than sight. Paul put it this way, “We live by faith, not by sight.” [2 Corinthian 5:7] 

While the story of Thomas does not directly answer the conundrum of whether Thomas received the Holy Spirit, it is implied in both the approach of Jesus to Thomas and in Thomas being enabled to declare, “My Lord and my God.”  As Paul stated in his first letter to the Corinthians, “No one can say Jesus is Lord, except through the Holy Spirit.”[1 Corinthians 12:3]

RELFECTION

It is unfortunate, at times, that lectionaries break up the scriptures into bite size pieces.  What can be lost in that process is the continuity of the message.  The story of Thomas mirrors the story of Mary Magdalene we heard last week.  Like Mary, Thomas experiences a nagging doubt that prompts her to take a second look at things that leads her to faith.  

John’s Gospel, being a later Gospel, suggests that by the time it was written, its author understood that the return of Jesus as a militant messiah who would arrive with the hosts of heaven to defend Jerusalem and the Temple not only didn't happen but would not happen.  Jesus is the Messiah, but Jesus is not a militant messiah nor will there ever be that type of messiah, according to the Gospel of John.  In fact, John’s author goes to some length to point out that Jesus stands above ice-thin surface of this world’s illusionary expectations and reality.  “My kingdom is not of this world,” Jesus declares to Pilate during his trial. [John 18:36]  

In the Gospel of John, Jesus first appears on this world’s stage as the Incarnate Word (λόγος, logos) of God, the Word made flesh; as something that could have been perceived through the human faculties of sense and could have been grasped by reasoning minds but wasn’t.  John puts it this way, “He (Jesus) was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him (as first sight-nw). He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him.” [John 1:10-11]   The early Jewish followers of Jesus would have seen this as a reference to those Jews who did not accept Jesus as the Messiah, but it is also a reference to humanity in general.

Ironically, in the Gospel of John it is the second time Jesus appears, the second time Jesus approaches as the Resurrected Christ of God that Jesus is recognizable for who he truly is, the Incarnate Word made flesh. 

In John, it is those prompted to take a second look at the empty tomb by a nagging yet hopeful doubt seeking to know where Jesus is who Jesus approaches.  It is they who are given faith to accept him as the Resurrected Christ of God. 

The ones who experiences the depth of God’s love in Christ for us in John’s Gospel, are Mary Magdalene and Thomas.   Yes - the doubter gets it because Jesus invites Thomas into his glorified wounded SELF.  It’s not that Thomas touches Jesus’ wound to make sure it really is Jesus standing in front of him, but rather that Thomas is touched by the truth of Jesus’ wounds within the core of his being.  

To touch the wounds of Christ is to feel the wounds of Christ in one’s being.

As such, Jesus’ invitation for Thomas to be touched by his wounds is an invitation for all of us to be touched by the wounds of the one who emptied himself on the cross to make room for us; the one who brings healing and new life to a wounded world.  As the prophet Isaiah said, “And by his wounds we are healed.” [Isaiah 53:5]

Jesus, being one of us and one with us, knows our wounded nature.  The Messiah did not come in his incarnation and at his resurrection as a militant warrior to establish and earthly kingdom.  That many continue to look for a militant messiah to fix this world’s problems is not only illusionary it is delusional.   

The Gospel of John, as mysterious as it is at times, has taken on a deeper meaning during this time of a pandemic.  The beauty of all Scripture is in its ability to shed light on a situation and provide understanding we normally would not consider, until it is presented within the context of a shared experience. 

In this doubt-ridden time, there is an anxious desire born of expediency to get life back to its “normal;” a desire that avoids taking a deeper, second look at what is happening.  Such a desire is understandable.  

We all want this pandemic to go away, but our shared experiences in it contain deeper meanings, and it is hoped that we learn from these experiences; that we become more compassionate, more understanding, the we are more driven by faith in God than the ideological beliefs that are born from the ice-thin surface of an illusionary reality.

Doubt-ridden times, as we have seen demonstrated in the Gospel of John, can give rise to that nagging doubt about our surface experiences; a doubt born of a hopeful desire to take a second, deeper look at things in order to see things for what they and not for what they appear to be.  

Doubt-ridden times as these can produce a hope that leads to faith by which to experience the Risen Christ in all of this.   

The story of Thomas has particular relevance at this time. We hear in Jesus’ invitation to Thomas to experience the imprint of the nails on his hands and to probe his wounded side an invitation for us to do the same.  

Like Thomas, we can experience within the wounds of Jesus the healing power of that love poured out for the world; a love manifested throughout the ages in the compassionate care given by so many in times like these.

Like Thomas, we can discover a faith that assures us that all things are in God’s loving and caring hands; that our fears and our doubts are hidden in the wounds of Jesus so that we can acknowledge with confidence the Risen Christ in our midst and declare with Thomas, “My Lord and my God.  

May the glory of Christ’s Paschal Light illumine a path to a deeper faith in this doubt-filled time; that all may come to experience the love of God through Christ Jesus our Lord.

Amen.

                                                             

EASTER 2020 - A REFLECTION

Texts: Colossians 3:1-4 and John 20:1-18

A HOMILETIC STUDY AND REFLECTION ON THE GOSPEL OF JOHN

By Norm Wright

STUDY

On this holiest of days, we turn to the story of Jesus’ resurrection as told in the Gospel of John. I wasn’t planning on a study portion for this day but as I started writing, it became apparent that I needed to.  The Gospel of John is not my favorite Gospel to preach on because it is difficult to unravel this complex Gospel within an eight to ten minute homily without resorting to platitude.  

Personally speaking, there is nothing easy about Easter.  I avoid watching all the movies or documentaries trying to replicate this deep mystery or explain it, which, in my opinion, merely end up reducing the inexplicable to a “dramedy” or a one-off phenomenon that holds no relevance to our world today.   The Resurrection of Jesus is perplexing.

To start with, the resurrection of Jesus presents the greatest conundrum of all.  All of the Gospels have their own way of presenting it and before getting into John’s presentation, I feel compelled to demonstrate this conundrum by way of how the  resurrection of Jesus is presented in the earliest Gospel, the Gospel according to Mark.  

The earliest known manuscripts of Marks’ Gospel end oddly:

As they [the women] entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed. But he said to them, “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.” So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.* [Mark 16:5-8]  

That’s it.  That’s how the earliest manuscripts end.  Hardly the joyous occasion we think of as Easter.  It was a terrifying experience, and all of the Gospels in their own way capture a sense of this terror but none as explicitly as Mark.  

Why terror?

Because the Resurrection presents a conundrum, and it is not a conundrum involving Jesus only, it is conundrum involving us.  

The Gospel of John cannot be dealt with in a piecemeal fashion.  It has to be taken and understood as a whole; as an intricately interwoven, theological work.  To get at the meaning of Easter found in John 20, we must turn to John 2.  John 2 begins with the story of Jesus turning water into wine at the wedding  feast at Cana.  After that event, Jesus goes up to Jerusalem and cleanses the Temple, which, in the Synoptic Gospels, takes place immediately before the Last Supper, located near the end of those Gospels. In John, this event takes place early on and is used to set the stage for Jesus’s resurrection.  

After Jesus turned over the money changers’ tables, those present ask him for a sign of his authority to do so.  Jesus cryptically replies, “Destroy this temple, and I will raise it up in three day.”  Just so we get the meaning, John adds an editorial comment that Jesus was talking about the temple of his body, which brings us to today’s Gospel lesson.

To review, the destruction of the Temple in 70 AD was experienced as an extremely disorientating event by all Jews; those who followed Jesus and those who didn’t.  In this resurrection story, we find that the temple is revealed in the resurrected presence of Jesus as the Christ.  This is the context in which John casts Jesus’ resurrection.

Everything said in the Gospel of John has a meaning behind it. In today’s lesson, we start with who is involved, Mary Magdalene (mentioned in all the Gospels), Peter, and an unnamed disciple described as the disciple Jesus loved.  Most Biblical scholars and theologians cast this unnamed disciple as the namesake of this Gospel, Jesus’ disciple John, but we shouldn’t be too hasty with that conclusion.

The fact that this disciple is left unnamed is suggestive. Just when one thinks one knows what John is talking about or where John’s author is leading us, unless the author is presenting an editorial clue, things left undefined are defining.  This beloved disciple suggests anyone called to be a disciple of Jesus, a catechist for instance, might be considered beloved of Jesus and in that suggestion find him or herself a participant in this story. 

What is interesting in this Gospel is that these three individuals approach the tomb with a certain degree of reticence.  The tomb is found open by Mary who runs to tell Peter.  There is a suggestion that Mary was not alone; that there were other women present as implicated in her comment to Peter, “… we don’t know where they have laid him.”   

Peter and the unnamed disciple run to the tomb.  The unnamed disciple reaching it first does not enter.  Peter bends down (a sign of reverence) and then the unnamed disciple follows. Then Peter enters the tomb followed by the unnamed disciple.  This supports the suggestion the unnamed disciple is symbolic of the (as yet unbaptized) catechist who cannot fully understand the mystery of Christ Jesus and merely follows the example of the fully initiated symbolized by Peter. 

What Peter and this unnamed disciple see is merely an empty tomb and the burial cloths lying on the stone slab where Jesus’ corpse was placed, noting that the cloth covering his face was rolled up in a place by itself.  That’s it.  Once again, John points out that sight, as mental comprehension, is not sufficient by itself to grasp the mystery of the empty tomb, the mystery of the Risen Christ.  

An opened tomb, in itself, may result in a reticent approach, but one suspects that mention of it here is meaningful.  What all three individuals cannot (understandably) conclude at that point is that Jesus is risen.  There is always another step in this process, according to John:  Jesus must approach and reveal himself. 

What is stressed in all of the Gospel accounts is that women are the first to arrive and are the first to receive and believe the message that Jesus is risen.  This is not meant to be sexist.  Rather, what we see are two principles at work in these Gospels; and in particular, the Gospel of John.  

Pragmatism is frequently portrayed as a male principle; the seeing-is-believing type of reasoning, whereas intuition, insight, and wisdom are frequently portrayed as a female principle where, in Christian theology, understanding is apprehended through faith rather than intellectual belief.  We see both principles played out in all the Gospels. 

What brings Peter and the (not fully sure of himself) unnamed disciple to the tomb is curiosity which appears satisfied with the certainty of the fact that Jesus is not there.  What brings Mary back to the tomb is uncertainty and a nagging doubt about the facts filtered through the dim hope of finding out where Jesus is.  In essence, John is explaining that there is an element of doubt essential to faith.

When Mary Magdalene bends over to look in the tomb, things become extremely mysterious as she sees two angels sitting on the slab of stone, one where Jesus’ head was and one where his feet were. What is being described is something that would have been familiar to Jesus’ early Jewish followers.  Two angels one at the head and one at the feet is a description of the Ark of the Covenant where, on the lid of the Ark, were seated two angels facing each other, one at each end of the Ark.   

The space between them was known as the Mercy Seat, where the presence or glory of God dwelt, in Hebrew the glory of God is called the Shekinah.  Notice that in this resurrection story, the angels speak in unison, with one voice.

With regard to the cloth that had covered Jesus’ face being “rolled” up and put in its own place, two possible meanings come to mind:  The rolled up cloth is reminiscent of a scroll representing the Torah or the scrolls of the Tanakh, the Hebrew Scriptures; as in, the law and the prophets are fulfilled.  It is also reminiscent of the veil Moses used when he left the Holy of Holies of the Tabernacle, where the Ark of the Covenant was kept, to hide the glow of God’s glory on his face.  In this context, the rolled up cloth signifies that the glory of God is revealed in the face of Jesus; that there is no need to hide that glory because, as Jesus remarked in John 17, Jesus is bestowing that glory on his disciples. 

When the angels sitting on the empty slab where Jesus’ body was laid see Mary weeping, they ask with one voice, “Why are you weeping?”  She responds, “They have taken my Lord away and I don’t know where they have laid him.”  No one in John’s Gospel gets things immediately.  They must be drawn into understanding slowly because in John’s presentation things are not as they seem to be; that life on the surface is an illusion.

Mary then turns away from this mysterious encounter and sees Jesus standing there, but does not see him as Jesus but as a gardener - a suggestive reference to Jesus being the new Adam tending a new creation.  Again, for a second time by the supposed gardener, Mary is asked, “Why are you weeping?” Mary again gives a similar answer as she did to the angels, but with an ironic twist, suggesting the supposed gardener of taking Jesus’ body away, which in a paradoxical sense is true, in part.  It is only when Jesus says her name, “Mary” that she recognize him. 

It is only when Jesus reveals himself in a direct approach that individuals can identify him as the Christ.  As we have seen before, when things happen in pairs in John’s Gospel we encounter a unifying principle, used here as a form of transference of the Shekinah residing on the mercy seat of the Ark of the Old Covenant to Jesus who is the New Covenant, the resurrected Temple of God. 

John ends this account as mysteriously as he started it.  When Mary realizes Jesus’ presence, there is an implication that she reaches for him as suggested in Jesus’ command, “Do not hold on to me because I have not ascended to the Father.”  The fact is we don’t know if Mary tried holding on to him.  That Jesus makes a point of not trying to hold on to him, implies that the risen Christ is not something that can be grasped in a physical/rational sense, and is suggesting that the presence of the resurrected Christ will be transferred (upon his ascension) to those called to follow him, as revealed in the final chapter of John’s Gospel.

REFLECTION

“LIFE FROM DEATH"

The death and resurrection of Jesus casts this life; life lived on the ice-thin surface of an illusionary reality, in a parabolic light; as in, things not being what they seem to be.  As such, I find the earliest manuscripts of Mark’s Gospel that end with the women being seized by terror at the discovery of an empty tomb and hearing that Jesus had risen a credible portrayal of what it must have been like for them and what it would have been like for us in that situation.  

In John’s Gospel, the Resurrection is depicted in what mystics and theologians like Rudolph Otto describe as the “wholly other;” a mysterium tremendum et fascinans, a mystery that both terrifies and fascinates. (Rudolph Otto was German theologian and philosopher who wrote “The Idea of the Holy” in 1917)

In John’s Gospel, we approach the empty tomb of Jesus as Mary Magdalene did a second time; with the dread of uncertainty and a nagging but fascinating element of doubt that things are not what they seem to be, which paradoxically opens the eyes of faith.

Life is not as it seems.  The moment life emerged from death eliminated the conundrum of Jesus’ death and burial and cast Jesus’ resurrection as being a deeply parabolic moment; exposing the paradoxical reality presented in this life that could not have been grasped without its occurrence:  Life comes from Death. 

Life from death is not easily grasped.  The risen Christ is not easily recognized in an illusionary reality that blinds us to the truth that we are part of something much larger than any one of us can comprehend; something larger than the whole of us and larger than the whole of creation. We cannot conceive of such things by our own power and strength.  

In Jesus, we see the power and the glory of God’s creative, kenotic love in action; that love poured out in the act of creation, in what we experience and see with the naked eye as the universe; that incomprehensible reality that can only be appreciated and viewed partially through the dark lens of night. 

By God’s grace and love, Jesus became our exemplar. “What is true for Jesus is true for us!”  In Jesus’ story, I find my story. In Jesus’ story I find our story.  That Jesus lives means I live!  That Jesus lives means that we live and that there is more to life than this life. 

At a time when the world is walking through the valley of the shadow of death; dealing with the conundrums caused by a pandemic, we find ourselves, on this day, peering reverently into an empty tomb and hearing the words, “He is not here. He is risen.”  

In the midst of this uncertain time, we are reminded that there is a lifeline running through the valley of the shadow (the illusion) of death we call faith and hope in the love of God, whose covenantal promise is to raise up a new creation in the Resurrected Christ, in whom we are embodied and who we embody as Body of Christ on earth.  

On this day, we see the terror of death replaced with the tremendum et fascinans of an empty tomb 

As Paul said in our first lesson, “Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth, [Get beyond the surface story of life] for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God [that Being in which we live, move, and have our being - Acts 17;28]. When Christ who is your life is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory.” * [What is true for Jesus is true for us.] (Italics my paraphrase -nw)

May the Love of God experienced in the Risen Christ shield us from the illusions of this world and preserve us from all fear and hopelessness.

AMEN

* New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the national Council of Church of Christ in the USA.

KENOSIS - A REFLECTION

For this devotions, instead of providing you with all the liturgical material I offer my local congregation, I will instead offer my homiletic reflection.  In addition, I will the cite the Biblical references used for this homiletic reflections to enable the reader to use a translation they are familiar with.

New Testament texts used in this homiletic reflection are Philippians 2:3-11 and Luke 23:13-49.

A HOMILETIC REFLECTION

By Norm Wright

“Experiencing Jesus  - Kenosis”

+In the name of Jesus, our Brother+

As some of you know, when Lent started this year we began a series of mid-week devotions focused on “Experiencing Jesus.”  I personally found the two devotional services we were able to hold very interesting as they allowed time for us to look at a piece of scripture and talk about how something Jesus experienced was reflected in our life experiences.  

On this Good Friday,  I invite those reading this devotion to think in terms of how the story of Jesus’ passion; how his suffering and death is experienced in our lives.  As I mentioned during these Wednesday meetings, it is my personal creed that “What is true for Jesus is true for us, and what is true for us is true for Jesus also.”  

Jesus is one of us and Jesus is one with us.  

The Gospels, in various ways try to make this point, sometimes struggling to juggle between  keeping Jesus’ two feet on the ground while maintaining Jesus as God’s beloved Son.  For me the story of Jesus’s last supper, his going off with some of his disciples to pray in the Garden of Gethsemane, his betrayal, his arrest, his trial, and his crucifixion are among the most human moments depicted in Jesus’s life.  By the end of that first Good Friday, Jesus ends up being stripped of his humanity (our shared humanity) in graphic detail - demonstrating how human Jesus is.  

Paradoxically, in this process of being totally stripped of physical life and as he is dying in a most cruel manner, Jesus fully lives into being the beloved Son God said he was at his Baptism.  This fully living into his being God’s beloved Son is captured best in Luke’s Gospel account of these events, but I would quickly add that all the Gospel accounts add a dimension to this paradox and are worth reading and meditating on while we await the great mysterious story of Jesus’s resurrection.

Mentioned in many of my homilies is a term that I would like to explore more fully in this reflection, “Kenosis.”  This Greek word simply means pouring out or emptying out.  While the well-known Christological hymn of Paul in today’s Epistle Lesson uses the term kenosis in the context that Jesus “did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited,” I see kenosis as Jesus’ emptying himself of his “self” on the cross to make room for our “selves.” 

At the last moment when fully depleted of life, Jesus, with his last breath, commends his spirit to our heavenly Father.  Upon doing so Jesus enters the embrace of that SELF that is GOD whose essence makes up our spiritual DNA as declared in Genesis. 

The question for us today, utilizing our Lenten theme of experiencing Jesus, is when have we engaged in kenosis, in emptying our selves to make room for others, to make room for God?

When have we experienced, an “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani” moment - a  “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me” moment (described in the Gospels of Matthew and Mark)?  

When have we felt abandoned by friends and relatives and feeling left hanging?

When have we experienced kenosis as moments of feeling so emptied out that we let go and let God?   

Kenotic moments are transfiguring moments.  

Many times they serve as launching pads into a new way of life or a new way of experiencing life.  We may see things differently, and we may actually appear differently, like the blind man in John 9 was; as in that “There’s-something’s-different-about-you ” way.

In Luke’s account of Jesus’s crucifixion, we see Jesus ever-concerned about the needs of others as he makes his way to Golgotha to die.  In my mind, the “Eloi, Eloi… statements of Jesus found in Matthew and Mark are melded with Luke’s account.  That is how this tragic moment in Jesus’s life bubbles up in me - perhaps because my own kenotic experiences seem to come when I feel at a loss and feeling lost.  

It seems to me that Jesus, in the moment of his utmost sense of abandonment, sees things as they are, sees the very people who put him on that cross as the same as he is; beloved children of God, sees things as God our Father sees things; transfiguring his loss as their loss, and feeling in his inability to physically embrace anything a desire to embrace everything.  

And so Jesus forgives as he has always done.  

Jesus embraces the entirety of us with the spiritual embrace that is forgiveness.  He forgives all.  “Father forgive them because they have no idea what they are doing.” 

Let’s face it.  We don’t know what we’re doing even when we think “we’ve got this”; that expression of the illusionary state of mind that comes with living on the ice-thin surface of existence. 

Today we are in a collective moment in which kenosis is being played out in a real time during this pandemic; in which our illusions of “we’ve got this” are being stripped away.  There are some who will undoubtedly exemplify those who Jesus identified as having no idea what they are doing.  Jesus forgives them and so must we. 

Then there are those who exemplify what Jesus did on this Good Friday, who are emptying themselves of self; who are willing to tread on the unknown turf that is the valley of the shadow of death, making room for other “selves,” being open to the Self of God; opening their hearts to the needs of others at tremendous personal risk and potential cost to themselves - May God bless and protect them! 

We are experiencing a cross roads moment, a crucifixion moment.   Life as we know it is changing, and in such moments as these we have a chance to see life differently, to understand life more deeply, to embrace life more fully, to forgive those we share life with more intentionally; to experience Jesus more fully.   

Amen.