What Does the Doctrine of Trinity Say About Us?---John 16: 12 – 15

            In today’s scripture, we hear Jesus talking about the Spirit and the Father.  God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit—today’s text centers on the Trinity. What references to the Trinity have you seen or heard so far in our worship today? 

            Call to Worship—“Holy Trinity, 1 God in 3 persons,   creator, Jesus, Spirit            

            Opening hymn “Holy Holy Holy . . .  God in three persons blessed Trinity,”

            Prayer of confession started with Triune God,                                    

            Gloria Patri  “Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost”

            Time with the Children—ways 3 can relate to one another 

Even after the sermon, if you listen and look, you should find more Trinitarian references in today’s worship.

            Today is Trinity Sunday, a day when we celebrate the Doctrine of the Trinity.  This doctrine helps us try to grasp the “Biblical—Christian understanding of who God is, how and where God is at work in the world,”[1] what God is like, and especially:  what that means for us human beings.

            Who God is:    We believe the Trinitarian God is not just our God but is the God who is over and for and with all people, of all religions (or no religion) even before they know this God.[2]

            How and where God is at work in the world:  In the beginning, God created the universe and all that is in it. Throughout history, as humans have engaged in acts that devastate our world, that harm other creatures, or that hurt one another, God has worked to reconcile humans with God and with one another.  God continues to work in the world to bring about God’s good purposes by transforming lives and systems.  Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer are words that speak to God’s work in the world.

            What God is like:   God is unselfish.  In today’s text, we hear that God the Father gives all that is his to Jesus—God the Son.  And we learn that Jesus shares all that is his with God the Holy Spirit.  The Spirit, in turn, glorifies the Son.

            The words we usually hear to name the Trinity—Father, Son and Holy Spirit—describe relationship among the persons of God.  It is not a hierarchical relationship—with one above another.  God the Father is not superior to God the Son or God the Holy Spirit.  Communication does not occur only between the Father and the Son or between the Son and the Spirit.  The relationship among the persons of the Triune God is not even a semi-hierarchical relationship (like our triangle example with the children) with one lording it over the other two.   Instead the relationship is one of equality—they’re on the same level, mutuality—they’re working together, and unity—they have the same goal.  There is a Greek word to describe this relationship—perichoresis. Peri, like perimeter, means around.  Choresis means dancing (like choreography).  “Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are like 3 dancers holding hands, dancing around together in harmonious, joyful freedom.”[3]

            Dancing around—constant movement so that our attention is drawn to the oneness of the dance itself.  Three dancers moving—but not moving individually, separately, alone—moving together so that it is the inter-personal movements, the inter-personal relationships that make up the three-ness.  Perichoresis depicts the Triune God as community. 

            The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are what they are only in relationship with one another.  The work of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is focused on creation—formation, redemption, and renewal of creation.  The driving power of this work is love.

            So what?  Where do we fit into this understanding of the Triune God? What does it mean for us? <pause>  If, in God’s deepest inner being, God is community-seeking, then that is what God is in relation to us as well[4] —seeking us out.  If God’s work is driven by love, then God does not want to dominate and control us but to be God-with-us (Emmanuel) and God-for-us (powerful Spirit).  

            We are created in the image of God. If God’s nature is fully realized in community, then our human nature is fully realized when we seek out others—living and working for the good of the community rather than for our individual gain.  If there is no hierarchy in the divine community—no superior and inferior—then our community of faith should also reflect equality.  Our community should welcome all—regardless of age, gender, economic, social, or sexual differences.  If there is no hierarchy—but instead there is mutuality in the divine community, then our community should empower everyone—insiders and outsiders, old-timers and newcomers, old and young.  If God exercises divine power to invite us into God’s creative, renewing, reconciling work in the world; then we should use our power not to dominate, manipulate or control others.  Instead we should use our power to lift up and to liberate, then to invite others into God’s work in the world.  

            Equality, mutuality, unity are revealed in the Perichoresis—the dance of the Trinity.

            Two weeks ago, I spent the afternoon and evening in Ottawa, watching the Paola High School Girls’ softball team play in the regional tournament. It was my 1^st PHS softball game.  Every time our team was at bat, I noticed one of the girls pay special attention to her teammates who entered the batter’s box with less confidence than the others.  “This one’s yours” she called out.  “You can do it.”  As she cheered her teammates on, I noticed the batter stand a little taller, plant her feet a little surer, practice swing a little harder, eye those pitches a little keener.  I thought, “I want to be on a team like this.”   

            When our girls were in the field and time was called, they all came together in the infield—it wasn’t just the pitcher and catcher or the pitcher and bases.  They all came together.  No one was left out.  “I thought, I want to be on a team like this.”

            I watched batters hit the ball down the first base line so the 3^rd base runner could score.  I watched outfielders running and heard clear and loud “I got its” to catch the fly-balls. I saw no grand-standing and no one-upmanship. They were a team—working together.  And I thought, “I want to be on a team like this.”

            Near the end of the game, it hit me that even though I was sitting right next to the dugout, I had heard no grumbling against the umpires,

no catty chatter about the girls on the other team, nothing negative. I realized this team does not need to tear anyone else down in order to build themselves up.  And I thought, “I want to be on a team like this.” 

            We ended up at Dairy Queen after the game.  When we walked in, families from the other team were waiting on their food.  In a few minutes, our team arrived.  Our coach walked over to the parents of the opposing team and said, “ Your girls played really well tonight.  They’ve had a good season.”  Now we won the regional tournament, but he made it a point to walk over and talk with the parents of the other team.  He made it a point to say something encouraging, positive, and authentic—to someone on the outside.  And I thought to myself, “I want to be on a team like this.” 

            Equality, mutuality, unity—I saw it that Tuesday night.  The dance of the Triune God was the dance of the girls’ softball team.  The dance of the Triune God can be the dance of this congregation, too.  How shall we live out equality, mutuality, and unity? 

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[1] Shirley C. Guthrie, Jr.  Christian Doctrine. revised edition.  Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 1994, p. 71.

[2] Guthrie, p. 73.

[3] Guthrie, p. 93.

[4] Guthrie, p. 93.

Pentecost Story---selections from Acts 2: 1 - 41

Would all the children please join me at the front?

            Today is Pentecost—a special church holiday/holy day.  We decorate our church with the colors and symbols of Pentecost.  What color do you think is the color of Pentecost? (red)  What symbols do you think represent Pentecost?  (dove—At the beginning of his ministry, when Jesus was baptized, the Holy Spirit descended from heaven like a dove and landed on him.  So the dove represents the Holy Spirit.)   Flames of fire—(our scripture today gives us a clue about why fire or flames might represent the Holy Spirit.)  So red—the color of power and fire—is the color of Pentecost, and symbols that represent the Holy Spirit are the symbols of Pentecost.

            What is Pentecost? I’m asking for your help (and adults’ help) in retelling the story of Pentecost.  Jesus’ followers had stayed in Jerusalem after his death and resurrection.  Each morning, before going about their regular, daily activities, they met for prayer and worship.  This day—the day of Pentecost—was a special day. For during their morning worship, a sound like rushing wind filled the room they were meeting in.  Can you make a sound—like rushing wind—that will fill this room we’re meeting in? Let’s invite the grownups to do this with us.  On the count of 3, let’s all make a sound—like rushing wind—that fills this room.  1, 2, 3:  whoosh! On this morning, Jesus’ followers heard a sound—so loud that it filled the room.  I’ll bet they were startled.  Then, what looked like individual flames of fire started to rest on each one of them. (Take the red dowel things and flicker on each child.)  It was almost as if fire was licking each person there. Will you take these—each of you go to different rows and flicker these fiery licking tongues on the adults until each one has been touched by a flaming flaps?  I’ll bet Jesus’ followers were a little afraid at this point.  Do you remember what happened next?  They began to speak—talking with one another about Jesus and their experiences with him.  Frankly, that was a pretty big deal because ever since Jesus’ death—even during his resurrection appearances—these followers had been timid and shy about revealing their relationship with him.  But not on this day.  On this day, they spill out of the house where they are meeting and into the busy Jerusalem street outside—talking about Jesus.

            Now Jerusalem was a big city—a place where people from all over the world had come to live.  They had come from Egypt and Rome, Spain and France and many other places.  Many of them could get by using the common language—here the common language is English—but they were more comfortable speaking and listening in their own languages—Arabic, Latin, Spanish, French.  When Jesus’ followers spilled out of their meeting room and onto the streets of Jerusalem—talking about Jesus, they were speaking in Arabic, Latin, Spanish, and French.  And on this day, Jesus’ followers are proclaiming, “Jesus is Lord.  He is risen from the dead.  Alleluia!” Let’s all say “Jesus is Lord.  He is risen from the dead. Alleluia.” 

             On this day, Jesus’ followers are proclaiming the good news of Jesus Christ—not just in one common language, but in all the different languages of the people living in Jerusalem. It was a miracle!  They were speaking up about Jesus and they were speaking in languages they had not studied.           

            A huge crowd gathered there in the street—a crowd drawn by all the noise and commotion.  Peter stands and speaks to the crowd—like Martin Luther King, Jr. standing in front of the Lincoln Memorial, speaking to the crowds in August 1963 or like Katie Perry addressing a crowd at her concerts—well, not that flashy.  Peter stands up and tells the crowd “You are seeing God’s Holy Spirit pouring out on all peoples.” Addressing the crowd, Peter shares the mighty works of God through Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection.  He proclaims Jesus is Lord.  Not Caesar—Jesus is Lord.  Not money, not power, not security—Jesus is Lord.  Not popularity or beauty—Jesus is Lord.  And the people in the crowd respond, “What must we do?”  Moved by the same Holy Spirit who empowers Peter and Jesus’ other followers to speak, the crowd listens and responds.  Moved by the Holy Spirit, the crowd responds with a willingness to change their hearts and lives.  The crowd responds—ready to be baptized and to join the community of Jesus’ followers.  The crowd responds—ready to begin the life-long journey of becoming Jesus’ disciples. 

            Who are the characters in this Pentecost story?  Peter and the other Jesus followers;  the crowd who listens and responds; and the Holy Spirit—who is the main character.  It was the Holy Spirit filling that room with sound.  It was the Holy Spirit alighting on each person like an individual flame of fire.  When we were flickering our flames of fiery crepe paper on each person, I noticed some folks shrinking back.  Were you afraid of the Holy Spirit?  The Holy Spirit is God, and we know God wants only the best for us.  God provides for us and protects us.  Surely we need not fear the Holy Spirit. In the beginning, through the Holy Spirit, God breathed form and life into creation. The Holy Spirit is the one whom Jesus promised would walk beside his disciples in his absence.  Surely we need not fear the Holy Spirit. 

            But . . . the Holy Spirit is associated with animation, rejuvenation, and transformation.  So, if you’re one who prefers to stand still, to plant your feet in one place, to plop your bottom down on one seat, to put your mind and emotions on hold—then maybe you should be a little afraid.  Because the Holy Spirit will blow you where she chooses to blow you.  We do not control the Holy Spirit.  Letting go, being flexible, making room for change—these are the strategies for enjoying the presence and power of the Holy Spirit.

            Today is Pentecost, a special church holiday/holy day—when we celebrate the Holy Spirit filling the community of Christ’s followers with the courage to speak up, to proclaim Jesus the Christ.  Today is Pentecost—when we celebrate the Holy Spirit filling the community of faith with new followers.  Today is Pentecost—the church’s birthday—the day the Holy Spirit breathed life into the church—giving voice to proclaim the good news of Jesus the Christ.    

The Next Words of Christ: "Go and Make Disciples" Matthew 28: 16 - 20

              On this last Sunday of the Easter season, as we end our series examining post-resurrection appearances, we consider an account from the Gospel According to Matthew for the first time. Today’s text opens with the disciples no longer in Jerusalem—the center of religious power and activity—but instead back in Galilee—where Jesus began his ministry.  The disciples have come to the mountain—perhaps the very mountain where Jesus preached his Sermon on the Mount. It is just the 11 disciples here—not the larger group of Jesus’ followers.  It is here that they encounter the risen Christ for the 1^st and last time in Matthew’s gospel.  Just as the women who went to the tomb early Easter morning worshiped the risen Jesus when they first saw him, so too do the disciples worship the risen Jesus here on the mountain. Yet, some of them are hesitant—disoriented and overwhelmed by seeing this one they knew was dead, by experiencing this one they thought was gone.  Coming near to them, Jesus bridges the gap forged between them when they abandoned him and left him to face the cross alone. Speaking to them, he reconciles and restores their broken relationship.  Claiming all authority in heaven and on earth, Jesus commissions his disciples to disciple others—all others—   men and women, young and old, people from cities and country folk, other Jews and Gentiles—all others.  With a final promise of his continued presence—day by day by day—throughout their lives and even to the end of the ages, Jesus commissions his disciples for their life’s work—discipling others. 

            “Go and make disciples”[1]—discipling others seems to be twofold—baptizing and teaching.  From the order Matthew employs, baptizing comes first.  The early church used baptism to mark the end of a year of instruction for converts and the beginning of full participation in the faith community, but in Matthew’s gospel, baptism comes first.  In our practice, it certainly comes first for those who are baptized as infants—those whose parents claim the promise of God’s grace for their children before they’re old enough to claim it for themselves.  At every baptism—whether baptizing an infant, child, youth, or adult—at every baptism, we Presbyterians promise to nurture the person being baptized, to help them grow in their faith.  We promise to guide them into full and meaningful participation in the faith community. As a sacrament, baptism is a means of grace—drawing us closer to Christ. Through the visible sign of water—cleansing water, life-giving water, renewing water—we are reminded of the invisible grace—God claiming us as one of God’s own people, Jesus claiming us as brother or sister, and the Holy Spirit helping us to live out this new identity.  The vow we—the congregation— make at every baptism is to teach our faith.

            Go and make disciples:  Discipling is twofold—baptizing and teaching.  Good teachers are life-long learners—seeking to grow in their own knowledge and skills and in the case of teaching the faith, to grow in their own faith.  So, discipling is a life-long process.  I see that here in our mid-week Bible study.  None of the group—Janis, Greta, Harold, Ken, Colleen, Hazel, Jim, and Marlene—are new to the faith.  All of them have been reading and studying the Bible for years. Yet they still come together each Wednesday morning eager to learn—to learn more about the context, the authors, and the purposes of the pieces of literature within the Bible, eager to examine the biblical themes  of love and grace, covenant and redemption, justice and mercy—themes that reveal God to us, and eager to learn more from one another.  Weekly, this group encourages me in the continuing learning faith development process.  As we develop in our faith, as we go through different stages in our life, as we mature, we make new connections with the Bible, we see new ways the Word of God can teach us and help us live our lives. 

            Good teachers not only tell, but they also show their students—as the children and I discussed earlier today.  Good learners not only listen, but they also practice.  I have the good fortune to be nearby during Gail’s piano lessons.  Some of the time she is talking to the students—telling them how to play the pieces.  But most of the time the student is actually playing, and Gail is guiding their practice.  Often I hear her reminding the student to continue practice at home. And Gail—accomplished as she is—continues to practice herself.  She practices for each worship service.  I’ve visited Karl Schmidt’s classroom.  While he has a board for writing chemical formulas and a projector to list properties of elements, he also has beakers and burners for the students to physically try out the concepts they are learning.  Karl’s students not only read and listen and watch, they also do.  Annie Kessler earned a soccer scholarship to college—not because she studied the game of soccer and played really well one time, but because she practiced the moves and played the game over and over and over again—because she continues to study and practice. 

            We study our faith through examining the biblical story, and we practice our faith—daily.  We offer a kind word to the harried store clerk—we engage.  We invite the new folks in the neighborhood into our home for a meal—we welcome.  We share lunch and conversation with our co-workers—we care. We bring food for the PACA food bank.  We feed.  We visit people who are isolated from others.  We connect.  Our youth group did that last Sunday—leading worship at Country Club Estates and Vintage Park.  At Country Club Estates one woman said, “Thank you for bringing young people and men.”  After worship at Vintage Park, we visited Genia Wilson in her room. Showing love for others—practicing—we grow in our faith.  

            Go and make disciples of all peoples.  It seems a little overwhelming, doesn’t it?  Maybe that’s how the disciples felt—overwhelmed.  Maybe it’s how Jesus felt, too.  After all, there he was “on an unnamed mountain in backwater Galilee with a congregation of eleven, down from twelve the week before, and even some of them are doubtful and not so sure why they have come to worship this day.”[2]  A small group, wondering why they’re there, hesitant to step out into the unfamiliar, doubtful they can even make a difference—does that sound familiar? Can you imagine their initial responses?  Jesus always did the teaching—not us.  Where do we start?  What exactly do we do?  Does that sound familiar?

            As underwhelming as his group may appear and as overwhelming as the task may have seemed, according to Matthew, Jesus claims God’s authority.  He commissions his disciples to invite others into the community he has been forming these last 3 years. And look at what has happened in the intervening 2100 years.  Christ’s community of disciples has grown in number and spread out across the world.  Generation after generation of new learners have joined those already in the community—other learners at different stages of faith development.  Jesus commissions us—yes, us, as inadequate as we might feel—to go and make disciples—to invite others into our community of faith.  Jesus commissions us to show others what living a life of faith looks like.  It’s awkward at first, as we practice, we become more comfortable inviting, sharing, teaching. Recognizing the enormity of this invitation, we rely, not on ourselves but on the power of the God who sent his Son to disciple the first learners, and on the continued presence of Jesus the Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit. 

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[1] Matthew 28: 19

[2] Thomas G. Long. “Matthew 28: 16 – 20:  Homiletical Perspective,” in Feasting on the Word, Year A. Volume 3.  Edited by David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor.  Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2011, p. 47.

The Next Words of Christ: Do you love me? Feed my sheep. John 21: 15 - 19

            Today’s scripture focuses on Peter. Three times Jesus asks him, “Do you love me?” and 3 times Peter responds, “Lord, you know that I love you.”  Three times Jesus commands Peter to feed—to tend to—Jesus’ sheep.  There is only one other obvious triplet—like this—in the Gospel According to John.  At that special Passover celebration when Jesus had washed the disciples’ feet, Peter whole-heartedly pledged his devotion to him.  But later that night, he deserted Jesus when temple soldiers arrived in the Garden of Gethsemane to arrest him.  Hiding in the shadows, Peter followed the guards to the high priest, Caiaphas’ house.  Standing in the courtyard, warming his hands by a charcoal fire, he hoped to hear news of Jesus. But when he was accused of being Jesus’ disciple, Peter vehemently denied any connection with him.  On that awful night, 3 times Peter was called a disciple of Jesus.  Three times Peter—the Rock—crumbled and denied even knowing him.   Now, Jesus asks three times “Do you love me?” Peter repents.  Jesus forgives.  Peter declares his love.  Jesus charges Peter—tend my sheep.  Rehabilitated, Peter is tasked with nurturing the community of faith.

            The last chapter of this gospel—chapter 21—“confirms that the story of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection continues to this day in the ongoing ministry of the community of disciples.”[1]  That means, there is more to this text than Peter’s rehabilitation.  Today, Jesus asks us, “Do you love me?”  We reply, “Yes, Lord, you know that we do.”  “Well, then—Feed my sheep.”  In other words—“Tend to my people as I would tend to them.”  Who are Jesus’ people?  Well, let’s examine who were Jesus’ people?  Some were his band of followers—which included tax collectors (considered Roman collaborators), prostitutes, and political zealots (Jewish revolutionaries).  Into his circle of followers, he welcomed not just those with “good” reputations but also those with “bad” reputations.  While the bulk of his ministry was serving other Jews, Jesus healed the Syro-Phoenician woman’s daughter and the Roman centurion’s servant.  For Jesus, “my” isn’t a limiting, exclusive pronoun.  For Jesus, “my people” is an ever-expanding group.  For us to tend to Jesus’ people, we need to cast our nets wide.  So, from the very first conversation we had about a possible summer day camp, we intended our circle of campers to be ever—expanding.  Of course our children would participate, but we also planned to invite children from outside of this congregation. In addition, we pledged to search for those who may not otherwise ever have a camp experience and offer it to them.

            “Do you love me?”  “Yes, Lord, you know that we do.”  “Well, then—Feed my sheep.  Tend to my people as I would tend to them.”  How did Jesus tend to his people?—with no regard to time, place, or situation.  When didn’t matter.  A man with a withered hand sought Jesus’ healing touch on the Sabbath.  Did Jesus say, “Come back another day?” No, he healed him then and there.  Where didn’t matter.  Traveling through Samaria—Now you need to know that the rivalry between Jews and Samaritans was more intense than the rivalry between Jayhawks and Wildcats, it was uglier than the rivalry between Longhorns and Sooners, it had a longer history than the rivalry between Missourians and Kansans—traveling through Samaria, Jesus offered his living water to the Samaritan woman at the well. What didn’t matter.  Jesus healed, welcomed, fed, and taught.  He offered whatever the people needed.  When, where, and what didn’t matter to Jesus.  He met them at their point of need. 

            I am proud that our Thrift Shop ministry meets people at their point of need.  While the regular sale hours are Saturdays from 9 – noon, anytime we become aware of a person in need of clothes, Lyla or one of the other Thrift Shop Volunteers

 omes to the shop to help that person or family find clothes.  I was at the Thrift Shop a couple of weeks ago when someone who had nothing but what he was wearing came in.  Not wanting to ask for much, he found a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt. But Lyla and Vida know about meeting people at their point of need.  Lyla noticed his falling-apart shoes and found him some work boots that fit.  Well, if you get boots, you need socks, says Vida.  And you need clothes to wear under the jeans and shirt. Tending to people as Jesus would means meeting them at their point of need. 

            “Do you love me?”  Yes, Lord, you know we do.  “Well, then tend to my people as I would tend to them.”  How would Jesus tend to his people?—with freely flowing grace.  Jesus met the tax collector Zaccheus with open arms.  He did not say, Zaccheus, return the money you stole from these folks, and then I’ll come eat with you.  He said, Zaccheus, come down from the tree, for today I will share table fellowship with you. 

Like Zaccheus, we receive Jesus’ grace without earning it.  If we are to tend to Jesus’ people as he would tend to them, then we are expected to respond by loving freely and unconditionally.  Each Sunday, part of our offering is food we share through PACA food bank.  Richard Lentz volunteers there each week, and he shared this story of grace flowing freely.  One recent Wednesday, the volunteers filling the food requests learned that it was the birthday of a person receiving a sack of food that day.  The volunteers put cake mix, butter, eggs, and frosting in the sack.  When the person came to pick up her food and saw the extra items in her sack, she tearfully thanked the volunteers saying, “I didn’t think I would be celebrating my birthday this year, but you just gave me a birthday cake and reason to celebrate.”     

            “Do you love me?”  Yes, Lord, you know we do.  “Well, then tend to my people as I would tend to them.”  How would Jesus tend to his people?  Generously. 

After feeding 5000 people on the hillside above the Sea of Galilee, Jesus said let’s clean up, and 12 basketfuls of leftovers were collected.  Feeding the 5000 was a miracle of abundance—from start to finish.  Research shows that readiness for school increases academic success. Paola kindergarten teachers attest that students from our Preschool program are ready for public school.  What about the child whose parents can’t afford Preschool tuition but who needs extra opportunities to develop socially, cognitively, and emotionally before kindergarten?  How might we tend to such children generously?  Might we fund Preschool scholarships with special gifts or even in our operating budget?  What about our upcoming summer day camp ministry? 

            How might we generously tend to the campers?  We could give financially to provide camperships.  But could we also give generously of our time and energy?  We need at least one more counselor to offer attention and care and excitement for the activities to a small group of children all day each day.  Volunteers—here for part of the day—are needed to give their smiles and welcomes and energy by joining an activity or serving snack or drinks at lunch.  How might we generously tend to the Heartland staff—college students—who will be staying here and working with us that week?  Families or couples hosting an evening meal just for the Heartland staff could offer a couple of hours of home away from work and tender loving care.  How might we generously give to the day camp?  By praying that we will share the good news of Jesus Christ and help lay a foundation for a personal relationship between each child and Jesus; by praying that every camper will know they are loved as they are as a child of God; and by praying that campers will have fun. 

            “Do you love me?”  Yes, Lord, you know we do.  “Well, then feed my sheep.  Tend to my people as I would tend to them.”  Through this exchange between Peter and Jesus, we recognize that love—as Jesus commands us to love—is not just feeling, but more importantly it is action; it is giving of ourselves. Loving uses our resources—our energy, our time, our money, and our skills. To love is to nurture.  “Do you love me?”  Our answer—Yes, Lord, you know that we do—is loud and clear only through our actions.  Do you love me? Yes, Lord, you KNOW that we love you – look, see what we are doing to care for your sheep.

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[1] Frances Taylor Gench.  Encounters with Jesus: Studies in the Gospel of John. Louisville:  Westminster John Knox Press, 2007, p. 143.

The Next Words of Christ-- Come and Have Breakfast --John 21: 1 - 14

            Anybody here like to fish?  Tell me about that . . . what do you like about it?  What’s fishing—for you—all about? what do you do?           

            My Papa loved to fish.  When he wasn’t driving a maintainer—building roads, or working in his garden—tilling, planting, weeding, shooting at the rabbits, or picking the ripe vegetables my Papa was fishing.  He invited each of his grandchildren to join him.  My cousin Darryl and my brother Chuck went fishing with Papa many times as they were growing up.  But, as a child, I never did.  I used to be competitive, and I suspect I thought fishing would a competition—with Papa and Chuck and Daryl, a competition about who caught the most fish—and being a novice, I would lose.  So, I always said, “no thank you.”  But after I went off to college, on one of my visits home, my Daddy told me, “You know, going fishing with Papa is more about being with Papa than it is about catching fish.” 

            So I asked my Papa if I could go fishing with him.  While we did catch some fish from time to time, what I remember most about fishing with him, is listening to his stories.  Through his stories, I got to know who he was—beyond being my Papa—a loving father, devoted husband, compassionate neighbor, wild prankster, hard worker, stubborn fighter.  Through his stories, I better understood my mom and myself—b/c the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.  Going fishing with Papa was more about being with him than about catching fish.

            Today’s text is a fishing story.  Peter says I’m going fishing, and 6 other disciples join him.  We know from other gospels that Peter and Zebedee’s sons—James and John—were fishermen before Jesus called them to join his ministry.  In today’s text they seem to be returning to that old way of life—fishing.  These last few weeks for them have been an emotional roller coaster.  Singing and shouting hosannas with the crowd during Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem (that’s what we celebrate on Palm Sunday), savoring his victorious verbal spars with the Pharisees in the temple, and then sharing a Passover meal like none other before, the disciples were surfing the crest of an emotional wave. Then the bottom dropped out.  Jesus’ arrest, trial, and crucifixion pulled them down, and they were battered by waves of guilt, grief, and despair.  And then 3 days later, they begin encountering the risen Christ in ways that have to be experienced in order to be believed—so it seems.  They are emotionally spent—close to shutdown.  Leaving Jerusalem, they return to the place they know best—Galilee. They return to the pattern they know best—staying busy—keeping their minds occupied so they don’t have to think about all that has happened and what it might mean—staying busy with hard physical labor, so their exhausted bodies will collapse in sleep at night. They return to the business they know—fishing.

            Today’s text is a fishing story.  Peter says I’m going fishing, and 6 other disciples join him.  And Jesus comes to them.  The previous resurrection appearances were in or near Jerusalem.  Jesus comes to them—here on the beach at the Sea of Galilee.  They’ve been fishing all night, and Jesus comes to them in the midst of their busyness.  They have retreated to what is familiar, and Jesus comes to them in the familiar, in the everyday occurrence of fishing. Jesus comes to them—where they are—physically, emotionally, and mentally.

            Jesus came here on Friday—in the form of Hazel and Jim Gillette and James and David McIntire.  Without being asked, they came here about 40 minutes before Bob Nichols’ service and were here to greet even the earliest arrivals.  Because of them, at each door, people were welcomed. 

            Jesus came here on Friday—in the forms of members of this congregation.  On Wednesday evening Edith had wondered aloud if there would be anybody at the funeral.  With declining physical health in the last few years, Bob and Edith had limited excursions outside their home.  With the progression of Bob’s Alzheimer’s they had been limiting visitors to their home.  Although they stayed somewhat connected with telephone calls and cards, a sense of isolation had set in.  Jesus came here on Friday—presenting himself to Edith in the forms of you who came to the service and who visited with her before and after.  In your presence, you made Christ’s presence known to her. 

            Jesus came here on Friday—in the form of Suzie McIntire, Patsy Staley, Colleen Barnett, and Betty Ventura.  They set out the food they and others had prepared and hosted the bereavement meal.  Welcoming, visiting, and then quietly withdrawing, they gave the family and close friends the time and space and context—a meal—with which to share memories and begin healing.  Jesus came here on Friday—in the flesh—in your flesh.  Yours were Jesus’ embracing arms and yours was his soothing voice.

            In today’s text, Jesus comes to the disciples—but they don’t recognize him at first.  In the early morning light, he’s just a person on the seashore—calling out.  But they hear him, and together they respond—casting their nets on the other side of the boat.  One of them—the beloved disciple—recognizes Jesus in the miracle of abundance.  Jesus has a way of providing abundantly—in this case, drawing their attention to what’s already there—lots of fish on the other side of the boat.  Who among us is the beloved disciple, recognizing and naming Jesus’ presence here in generous giving, in deepening faith, and in growing relationships?  Who calls our attention to God’s abundance here—evidence of Jesus’ presence?

            Jesus comes to the disciples.  The beloved disciple—the one who rested in his bosom at that Passover meal—recognizes him first.  Is it possible that when we rest in Jesus’ bosom, when we lean on him in prayer and reflection, we become more likely to see him in our midst?   The others recognize Jesus at the meal on the beach.  “Come and have breakfast,” he says.  Taking, blessing, breaking, and giving—Jesus feeds the disciples, and they recognize him.  In bread and fish—the common food of the people—Jesus comes to the disciples.  Cooking out on the beach, he comes to them. 

            Jesus comes to us—in the sacramental meal—and in the meals we share daily—with our families and with others.  Each time we take food, bless it, break it and share with others, Jesus comes to us.  He comes to us in the most mundane of our daily activities—our meals.  Jesus comes to us when we retreat.  He comes to us in our busyness.  Jesus comes to us—on the beach, in the garden, at the lake, in the classroom, at home, on the golf course, at the grocery store.  Jesus comes to us. 

            When he does, may we open our eyes, listen with our hearts, recognize his presence, and respond with our lives.  When Jesus comes to us, may we lean on him, be renewed by his presence, and work for his justice. 

            When Jesus comes to us, may we recognize it’s like a fishing story that’s more about being with Jesus than it is about catching fish.

The Next Words of Christ: No More Disbelief! Believe! John 20: 19 - 22; 24 - 31

            It is Easter Sunday evening.  The disciples have blockaded themselves behind all sorts of barriers.  They are hiding behind locked doors to keep out the religious and political authorities.  They are hiding behind locked hearts to block out the memory of how they abandoned Jesus.  They are hiding behind locked minds to veil the unnerving possibility that Jesus is indeed risen—as Mary Magdalene reported earlier that day.  Hiding behind physical, emotional, and mental barriers, the disciples find themselves face to face with the resurrected Jesus.  With “Peace be with you,” he offers them his forgiveness and encourages them to forgive themselves.  Breathing the Holy Spirit out, he breathes new life into this group of his followers and restores the faith of each one there.

            But not all his disciples are there that 1^st Easter Sunday evening.  Thomas is among the missing.  Why he is not there, we do not know.  Three evenings ago, when soldiers arrested Jesus, all his disciples scattered—hiding so that they would not be arrested, charged, tried, convicted, and crucified.  Perhaps, burdened by his own guilt, Thomas has not yet left his individual hiding place to join with the other fearful disciples.  Why he is not there this 1^st Easter Sunday evening, we do not know.  Perhaps Thomas had re-joined the group hiding together in this locked room, but he left earlier that evening.  Why?  To see the empty tomb for himself, to determine whether it’s safe for the group to come out, to get food and other supplies while they remain holed up for awhile?  Why he is not there, we do not know.

            But we can safely assume his emotions run high when he hears that Jesus has appeared to the other disciples in his absence.  What is Thomas feeling?  Surely grief over the death of his beloved teacher, friend, and mentor.  What is Thomas feeling?  Regret—for the part he played in Jesus’ death.  Stomach full from the Passover feast—food and wine, he dozed in the upper room as Jesus and the others went to pray.  Hearing of Jesus’ arrest, he hid from the authorities.  He offered no testimony at Jesus’ trial.  He did not even offer his presence at the foot of Jesus’ cross.  His actions speak of cowardice, lack of faith, and betrayal.  What is Thomas feeling?  Jealousy—of the other disciples’ encounter with the risen Jesus; jealousy—of the confidence this experience has re-birthed in them; jealousy—of the peace and strength that seems to permeate their conversations and actions now.  What is Thomas feeling?  Anger—that he missed out on this experience; anger that Jesus did not choose to appear to him.  I hear that anger loud and clear in his words.  “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands, unless I put my finger into the wounds left by the nails, unless I put my hand in the hole in his side, I refuse to believe.

            It is not his doubt but instead how Thomas reacts to his emotions—regret, jealousy, and anger—that threatens this fragile group of believers.  On that 1^st Easter Sunday evening, Jesus breaks through physical, emotional and mental barriers to reach his disciples.  Released from their guilt by his forgiveness, empowered by the breath of his peace, the other disciples are revived, renewed, re-invigorated.  And then Thomas, who has traveled with them, learned with them, served with them, eaten with them every day of the last 3 years; Thomas not only questions their encounter with Jesus, but he refuses to believe their testimony.  It is as if Thomas is calling them all liars.  

            I taught high school students math for 15 years.  I can remember hearing a student make a comment under his or her breath. And I would say, “Why did you just say that about such and such. . . ?  Sometimes the student would respond, “I didn’t say that.”  And I would think to myself, I know what I heard.  But then I would begin to doubt.  I can remember seeing a student look on another student’s paper and then return to his/her own test, and I would walk over and say “Keep your eyes on your own paper.  This is a test of what you’ve learned.” Sometimes the student would respond, “I am looking only on my paper.”  nd I would think to myself, I know what I saw.  But then I would begin to doubt.  The student would say I didn’t . . . and I would doubt my own experience—what I heard, what I saw. 

            I wonder if the disciples feel this same way when Thomas, who has been like a brother these last 3 years, refuses to accept their experience.  Do they begin to doubt what their own senses have told them?  They saw Jesus.  They heard his voice.  They felt the air from his breath. They smelled the aromas from it.  But when Thomas refuses to believe their testimony by challenging their group encounter, do the other disciples begin to doubt their shared group experience?  Thomas’ challenge of their encounter and refusal to believe them tears the fabric of their community.  Therein lies the problem with Thomas and his behavior.

            It does not lie with his personal doubts, but instead with how he chooses to express those doubts, in the context of his regret, jealousy and anger.  The problem lies in what he does to the community of faith. He lashes out at them with an ultimatum—I have to see, I have to hear, I have to experience before I will even entertain the possibility that you all have seen, that you all have heard, that you all have experienced.  The problem is that Thomas puts his desires before the needs of the faith community.  If only he could name his emotions, own his doubts, and ask for what he needs—not what he wants but what he needs. If only he could say—I hear you had this encounter with Jesus, and it appears to have been a turning point for you all.  I see confidence in your posture, and I hear forgiveness in your voices.  I wish I could have been here because I feel numb with grief. I am paralyzed with regret.  I feel shut out by jealousy.  I need your help to claim Jesus’ forgiveness. I need your patience while I sort through all that has happened.  I need time before I can claim with you—Christ is risen.  If only Thomas could respond that way.

            Our scripture says “after 8 days.”  There is a period of time after the other disciples share with Thomas their encounter with the risen Christ.  There is a period of time in which the community of faith gives Thomas what he needs—time, patience, and forgiveness—even though he does not ask for it.  There is a period of time in which the disciples give Thomas what he needs—forgiveness—for his distrusting, hurtful words—even though he doesn’t ask for it.  There is a period of time when the disciples give Thomas what he needs—patience with his doubts—even though he doesn’t ask for it.  There is a period of time when the faith community holds Thomas in their trusting, nurturing, fragile embrace—a period of time until Thomas can receive what he needs from Jesus.

            After 8 days, the whole group is behind locked doors when Jesus appears again.  Offering Thomas the same sensory encounter he had offered the other disciples previously, Jesus invites Thomas to look, to listen, and to touch—and then, to respond with no more disbelief—to respond with belief.  Even though Thomas’ words and actions have been chipping away at the foundation of his faith community, Jesus offers him forgiveness with the invitation “Believe—for yourself” and with the command “no more disbelief,” no more ripping apart this faith community.

            We may find ourselves playing the role of Thomas.  As individuals, demanding what we want or what we desire instead of putting the needs of the faith community first, like Thomas we threaten the health and well-being of our church.  Naming our own emotions, claiming our individual fears, asking for what we need—not what we want, but what we need—we can be truthful about our doubts our anxieties, and our fears without harming our congregation. 

            We may find ourselves—as a congregation—cast in the role of the other disciples. 

Jesus breathes new life into us—this community of faith—enabling us to forgive one another; empowering us to see, to name, and to stand up to conflict between individual desires and the needs of the entire congregation.  Relying on the peace Jesus extends to us and renewed by the spirit-strength he breathes into us, we can claim the promise of a vibrant ministry here—even when individuals question our future.  A welcoming community of faith, we are called to hold onto those in our midst who experience doubt and fear.  We hold onto to each other by claiming the grace, the love, and the forgiveness of God.  We claim it for others even when they cannot claim it for themselves.  How?  By praying, welcoming, forgiving, calling, visiting, sending cards, feeding—all of this is holding onto each other.             

            Just as Thomas ultimately received from Jesus what he needed—to dispel his doubts, to overcome his fears, to accept and receive forgiveness, to claim my Lord and my God!  so too will we—each one of us and all of us—receive from Jesus what we need—all in God’s time.

            No more disbelief . . . Jesus the Christ will help us believe.