Uvalde and the Need to Choose Life: A Sermon for 7C Easter

Memorial to the Uvalde, TX, victims. Image from the BBC News.

Another week, another mass shooting in America. 

And again, we, who are called to preach, must do what we can to reach the people in our congregation with a message that not only stays with the Gospel, but takes the Gospel directly into relationship with what has been happening in the world around us. 

Last week's sermon which included the shooting at the Buffalo grocery store was tough enough to talk about. This week, with the senseless killing of elementary school students and two teachers, was almost impossible. I thought, prayed, wrestled, conversed, read through our weekly lectionary and collect slowly several times. I finally forced myself to sit down and type out my sermon on Saturday morning...making a few revisions to the final product before leaving at 8:15am for Valdosta. 

I preached this message...not ending with the usual "In the name of God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit." Perhaps if I had said it, I would have heard at least an "Amen." Instead, my words this morning were met with a deafening silence. I am painfully aware that there are gun owners in my congregation, and that I am ministering at a church in a state where the Governor has not only posed with guns in his political ads; he's recently signed legislation allowing people to conceal carry without a permit. And my church is in a "red" county.

I'm not sure what to make of that silence today. Were they thinking? Were they praying? Were they closing their ears, stewing over what I'd said? 

No telling. May the Spirit do whatever work on those who heard my message. 

+++

Scriptures for the 7th Sunday of Easter: Acts 16:16-34; Rev.22:12-14, 16-17, 20-21; John 17:20-26.

Prayer: Grant us, O Lord, your wisdom as we face the questions of our day; reveal your faithful path and illumine our hearts and minds to your will; through Jesus Christ your son and the Holy Spirit, we pray. Amen. (riff off of Daily Prayers for All Seasons, 144)

 

Our opening Collect of the Day asks for God to not leave us “comfortless.” Seems a simple ask for this time in our liturgical calendar year. 

A much more complicated thought…given what has happened in the country in the past two weeks. 

Last Thursday was the Feast of the Ascension, the day when Jesus…again…exits from the everyday existence of the disciples…this time to become reunited with God called “Father.” Once more, the friends of Jesus are left to continue on his mission without their beloved leader at their sides. Just as with his death on Good Friday…this absence plunges them into liminal space. 

Liminal space is that peculiar world of the grief-stricken. 

Everything is moving at warp speed, but grief has put those mourning a profound loss in some kind of weird box of neither here nor there. Sometimes, the only thing one can do when in that box is accept that’s where they are…this liminal space…and about the only thing to be done is slow down…way down…to stillness. And it is in stillness…that many of us…even the least religious of us… turn to prayer. Prayer is the way we stretch our hearts and minds toward the Divine in the hope that we are being heard. We may not have words. Sometimes we only have deep sighs. Always we are expressing our lament in search of that balm for our aching soul.

“Prayer” is at the center of our readings this morning. 

And prayer has power when it is put into action. 

We see how prayers and songs shook the foundation of the prison, freeing Paul and Silas…not to mention others…including the jailer. No longer needing to occupy that space of keeping a watchful eye over these two rabble-rousers against the Roman Empire…the jailer sheds his own shackles to become free to follow Jesus. 

Our Revelation reading contains a most interesting prayer…with the repeated word: “Come.” 

A surface understanding of this passage might lead us to think that “Come” means John is calling down Jesus to us. But the theologian Abraham Heschel puts a different spin on what might be happening here. 

Rather than God being the object of our desire…we are the objects of God’s desire. Instead of Jesus coming to us…John is saying, “Come to Jesus.” Become enlightened when we’d previously been content to sit in darkness. Truly accept that we are creatures of God and become one with Jesus. 

That’s exactly what’s at the center of Jesus’ prayer in our Gospel. 

We’re at the conclusion of his extensive good-bye. And if we look closely we see that this prayer is meant not just for his disciples. It is meant for us, the ones who read, mark, learn and inwardly digest the words and stories of our biblical ancestors.  

Jesus offered this prayer, knowing full well that his own life was about to end in a brutal and horrible way. 

He knew that the glory he was about to experience on the cross was not as the world saw “glory.” 

This glory would bring him in closer contact with the suffering, the forgotten, and the oppressed. 

Jesus brings in love. Not an emotional feeling of love. 

This is the love of God…the experience of being in such a complete relationship with God that transcends all intellectual arguments, and can’t be measured through formulas or mathematical proofs. 

In the stillness of this moment, as Jesus works through his own anxiety about what is to come through his final will and testament, he is calling for future generations to live in unity and Godly love for one another.  

That is his prayer. 

I really do wonder if the disciples felt some pangs of dread listening to their leader pray? Did this prayer give them comfort in those days following the earth-shattering horror of Jesus’ death? 

What about after he returned and then left them again? Were they able to remember these words and to realize that their dread and sorrow at Good Friday turned to hope and joy at the resurrection? Could they hold onto that hope when he ascended for the final time?

Those are some of the same questions for us…especially as our country grapples again…for a second week…with what is nothing less than the evil of gun violence. Last week, it was the terror of white supremacist hatred unleashed on Black shoppers at a grocery store in Buffalo. This week…it was the unthinkable of yet another teenager with an AR-15 entering an elementary school and murdering two beloved teachers and 19 fourth graders in a Texas town the size of Moultrie. 

Just as Buffalo recalled the shocks of past acts of violence…what happened in Uvalde Texas was eerily similar to what happened in Newtown Connecticut almost ten years ago. 

They were two days away from school letting out for the summer. They’d had a celebration of those students who had made the honor roll at Robb Elementary. They’d just come in from recess where they’d been running around and playing with their friends. 

School was going to end in two days. It wasn’t supposed to end at that moment. And this became the 27^th school shooting in America this year alone. 

Like many of us, when I heard the news I sat motionless and numb. Tears would come later. I learned that the wife of one of my friends from seminary had grown up in Uvalde and had gone to Robb Elementary School. Then another Texas friend expressed her hurt and anger on social media because one of her friends had lost a grandchild in the shooting. 

The circles of how this violence touches people extend well beyond the borders of any town or city or state where this happens.  And the circles are getting larger and larger.

Wednesday I was meeting with a couple of different clergy and diocesan groups, and naturally, this subject of gun violence was first and foremost on our minds. And the question came up…as one might expect…about how this violence keeps happening? Is it guns? Is it mental illness? Is it both? And what about God and free will? 

As creatures of God we do have free will. We also have been blessed with reason. And the third leg of our three-legged stool is Scripture.  

If we look at the Book of Deuteronomy, there is a fairly clear directive for how we should exercise that free will: 

“See, I have set before you today life and prosperity, death and adversity. If you obey the commandments of the Lord your God^* that I am commanding you today, by loving the Lord your God, walking in his ways, and observing his commandments, decrees, and ordinances, then you shall live and become numerous, and the Lord your God will bless you in the land that you are entering to possess. But if your heart turns away and you do not hear, but are led astray to bow down to other gods and serve them, I declare to you today that you shall perish; you shall not live long in the land that you are crossing the Jordan to enter and possess. I call heaven and earth to witness against you today that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life so that you and your descendants may live, loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him; for that means life to you and length of days…”(Deut. 30:15-20b)

If we apply reason to this…then it would seem that if we want to see to this cycle of violence end, then we need to choose life over death. 

We need to turn thoughts and prayers into actions and outcomes. 

We need to set aside whatever other gods we have come to worship…and set our hearts, our minds, and our strength back on the God of love.

Jesus prayed, “Righteous Father, the world does not know you, but I know you; and these know that you have sent me.” May we be brave enough to show the love and light of Christ and stand for an end to this violence.

Come, Lord Jesus.

 

Knowing Peace When There's No Peace: A sermon for 6C Easter

The murder of ten Black people last weekend in Buffalo, NY, has been dominating the news cycle. Listening to the voices of people who live on Buffalo's East Side has left me sad and angry and frustrated. I hate that people are afraid to go out of their houses. I hate the fact that this is another round of targeted hateful violence against minorities in our country. And I hate that no matter how sad, angry, frustrated, and fed up I feel, nothing is going to change at the federal level with the people empowered to regulate who gets a gun, body armor, magazines that hold large amounts of bullets....

And then there is the heart of America, especially white America. We have governors and state legislatures passing laws to prevent the teaching of some of our ugliest parts of our collective history because it might make white children uncomfortable to learn that our ancestors participated in slavery and lynchings. The fact that they rail against "wokeness" is ironic, since the opposite of being "woke" is to be "asleep." I think what some of them fear is that their children and grandchildren might learn some things about their family history that would tarnish the reputation of great granddaddy and great grandma, who should have been arrested for participating in killing sprees. 

As I said in an email recently, if the government is going to stop public school teachers from telling the complete history of our country, then it is up to churches (specifically preachers) to keep shining the light into the darkness as Jesus taught us to do.  That is the only way we can hope to deliver ourselves from the sins committed in our name, and begin the long-delayed healing process that was supposed to have started in 1865.

+++

I’m sure y’all have heard about “Southern Goodbye Syndrome.”  Southerners have a tendency to linger and draw out their goodbyes. 

The dinner has ended.  A good time has been had by all, with delicious food and drinks and great conversation. 

The night is getting longer, the hosts are ready to turn in, and the guests gather up their things. 

That leads to another story. Something really funny that needs to be shared before they part. They laugh some more as the one story reminds someone of yet another time when the same thing happened to them. 

Fifteen minutes later, the keys are in hand. The guests have reached the door. And oh, by the way, how is your mama doing? Delighted to have been asked…the hosts share the news about the aging matriarch. 

Thirty minutes later, hugs are exchanged. Promises made that they’ll have to do this all again some time soon. And the guests exit the house…as the hosts linger with them on the front stoop for a few more happy exchanges. 

And then…ten minutes later…the guests get in their car and drive off into the night. The two parties finally have finished the Southern goodbye. 

In some respects…that’s what’s happening here with our Gospel. 

Jesus…in true Southern-style…is delivering one very long goodbye to his disciples…a farewell discourse that stretches from the beginning of chapter 13 in John’s Gospel…and continues through a very long prayer in Chapter 17. 

The synoptic gospels…Matthew, Mark, and Luke…don’t have this material and so scholars think this is particular to John’s community…the followers of Jesus who were living with increased tension and hostility as they were getting kicked out the synagogues and beginning to form house churches. 

These are the Jews who are no longer accepted in the Jewish community, and are offensive to the Roman Empire because they refuse to play along with the Emperor’s rules and bend their knees to Caesar. 

In other words…these are the words of Jesus to comfort a people who feel rejected and disinherited.  They’re afraid.

I’ve been thinking about this Gospel passage all week. I have been especially fixated on Jesus’ words “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid” (John 14:27).

Now…for me…peace conjures up a feeling of calm. That sense of feeling the warmth of the sun on the skin on one of those rare days when it isn’t too hot or too cold…and the humidity is low…and a light breeze keeps the temperature just right. Perhaps you have other senses or imaginations of what that word “peace” means. 

In the Jewish tradition, the custom is to say “Shalom Aleichem” or “peace be unto you” and the response is a flipping of the phrase: “Aleichem shalom” or “Unto you be peace.” This is a signal to say, “I have received your shalom and am offering mine in return.” We have a similar tradition when we say, “The peace of the Lord be always with you,” and respond “and also with you.” 

These exchanges are not mere niceties. When we pass the peace, we are making a spiritual connection with each other…and acknowledging the presence of God’s spirit in that handshake or fist or elbow bump. We’re signaling in saying the words to each other that, “I am in unity of spirit with you.” And as has been said by many people far wiser than me, “unity” is in the root of the word “community.” And Christianity is meant to be a communal faith. 

This unity transcends all the ways in which we are beautifully and intentionally diverse…in our family backgrounds…skin color…sexualities…gender…languages. Even in diversity and difference…there is the unity that comes from this “Peace of the Lord” that is always with us.

This is some of what the disciples will learn…eventually.

It is a peace that I know has felt elusive in this past week.

The Tops Friendly Market was a hard-earned win for the East-side neighborhood in Buffalo New York. They were living in a food dessert, and had been lobbying to get a full service supermarket on their side of the city. It’s usually neighborhoods with higher concentrations of minorities or people with low or fixed incomes that find themselves having to go across town just to get essentials.  The higher-end grocery stores tend to set up shop where they attract wealthier and whiter populations.  So when Tops came to the East-Side almost twenty years ago…the neighbors rejoiced.  They could finally go only a block or two to pick up the eggs they needed to bake a cake. 

Such a small convenience…disrupted last week. 

Peace was shattered not just for Buffalo.  The shockwaves of such an intentional targeting of black people…done in the name of white people… has shaken many of us…both black and white. It recalls what happened in Charleston at a bible study at Mother Emmanuel Church…the lynchings that happened in the early 20^th century…including the horrific death of Mary Turner and her unborn child here in this area. 

The police chief in Buffalo described what happened there as “evil.” Because it is. These acts of violence…these attempts to destroy community…to further drive us apart and make us afraid of each other…are the works of evil that we are called upon through our baptism to resist.  And not simply resist them individually, but to work toward the goal of ending them with the same power and determination that Jesus took to the cross…and won…even when the world thought he was losing. 

The spirit of Lord is upon me…Jesus said…to bring good news to the poor, sight to the blind, release to the captive and freedom to the oppressed (Luke 4;18). That is the piece of the Lord’s peace that we must tap into to give our voices the strength to say, “No more!” to those who want to destroy us and push us into tribal camps and stoke fear of the “other” whatever “other” that is at the moment.

“Peace I leave you; my peace I give to you” is not like the world’s idea of peace.  Our peace seems to be so fleeting and fragile.

The peace Jesus is sharing with them in this Gospel…and passing on to us…is the peace that is power.  

The power of God, which Jesus has shown us over and over in his teachings and ministry and resides in and around us always as God’s Holy Spirit.  

That power does not lose sight of Love and Love’s ability to carry us through even in dark and difficult times. 

That power of God which surpasses all our understanding, which keeps our hearts and minds in the knowledge and love of God and of Jesus Christ.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled” Jesus said…”and do not let them be afraid.” 

In the name of God F/S/HS.

 

 

 

 

 

Be the Love We Need: A Sermon for 5C Easter

 We are in some very dark and depressing times. Over the weekend, there were mass shootings in Buffalo, NY, and then later in Orange County, CA. In the Buffalo case, hatred of Blacks fueled the rampage at a grocery store in a predominantly black neighborhood. The Orange County shooting was at a Presbyterian Church which hosts a largely Taiwanese congregation. The shooter is a Chinese man with a grudge against Taiwan.

I didn't address gun violence in this sermon. But I did give a brief mention of the other major activity over the weekend: the Bans Off Our Bodies rallies in reaction to what's happening with the U.S. Supreme Court. The pending ruling in the MS case has many of us wondering, "They came for our right to privacy in abortion, what other privacy rights are at stake?" It is unnerving. 

All the more reason for followers of Jesus to step it up in the name of Love. 

This sermon, which I pounded out following three days at Honey Creek for the spring clergy retreat, seemed to hit home with the St. Barnabas congregation. Maybe it might speak to you as well.

+++

Have you ever had a conversation that just seems as if it’s going to be really important or pivotal? A time when you hear something in the moment that makes you realize in your heart of hearts that this is something I will remember forever? 

One such moment that I had like that was with my father at the end of his life. He’d been sent back to his assisted living facility from the hospital after they treated him for aspiration pneumonia. My dad had been diagnosed with something called progressive supranuclear palsy, which had the same effect as Parkinson’s disease. His speech was greatly affected and at this point in his life it was really hard to understand anything he said. 

It was in the evening. He was lying in his bed in his room and making all kinds of noises because he was in pain. I kept trying to understand what he was saying, but I just couldn’t make out the words. Finally, I looked up at the ceiling (because…y’know…God always is up in the ceiling, right?) and I prayed. I asked God to please help me understand what was going on with my dad. 

And then it came to me. 

Leaning down, I told my father to breathe out his words one by one so that I could understand him. 

I placed my ear next to his mouth and clear as day he breathed out each word. One by one.

I. Want. Outta. Here.

I straightened up and looked at him. I repeated back to him what he had said.

“I want outta here? Do you mean outta here as in Alterra (which was the name of his facility) or outta here as in the whole shebang?”

I leaned in again to listen. And again he breathed out his words one by one.

“Whole. Shebang.” 

I straightened up once again. I took in the meaning of what he’d said.

“OK. OK. You don’t have to keep going, dad. You’ve done enough. Mom and everybody…we’re all going to be OK.”

My dad stopped groaning. His body relaxed. I laid my head down on his chest and gave him a hug. 

Those moments…especially end of life moments…often feel as if all rules of physics and time and space are suspended. Perhaps that’s why those types of conversations make such an indelible impression on us. 

As I read our gospel…I wondered if the disciples who were there at the table with Jesus could appreciate the words he was imparting to them. 

Did they know that this would become known as the beginning of his farewell discourse? Could they understand the intimacy of him calling them “little children”? Could they comprehend the meaning of his command to “love one another” or that he had reached the time of his glory?

Do we even understand all of that now?

When we think of who gets glorified in our society…it’s usually associated with somebody rich, or meets some unattainable standard of beauty. Some of us might think of sports figures or whole teams like when the Braves won the World Series. But the glory Jesus talks about at the opening of this passage is different.  This comes right after Judas has left the building to betray him to the authorities. The “glory” Jesus is about to experience is ridicule, mockery, and be nailed to a tree to die. From the standpoint of any rational person, that’s not very glorified. 

Any reasonable person will do everything they can to avoid being attacked in that way. 

But that’s the upside downness of God. In God’s economy…those who seek glory for their own gain and their own fortune are not the rich; that’s how we judge who is worthy of attention. But God is not fixated on the outside of our selves; God looks to our heart, to the core that motivates us to act. For God, true glory belongs to the one who says that they “will lay down their life for their friends” (John 15:13). That’s glory and the way of God’s love.

Jesus talks about love. And he tells the remaining disciples that he’s giving them a new commandment, to love one another just he has loved them. 

In truth, there is nothing new about this commandment. All of these disciples, good and devout Jews, would know that the commandment to love is found in the 19th chapter of Leviticus. Fun fact: the Old Testament scholar Ellen Davis at Duke Divinity School came to Tallahassee to do a teaching about Leviticus as the greenest book in the Bible. At that lecture, she highlighted the beauty of the poetic Hebrew language that is in Leviticus, and more importantly, she revealed that if you don’t have time to read the whole book, just turn to chapter 19. She says it’s basically the Reader’s Digest version of the all the codes and instructions written in the rest of the book. 

OK…so it’s not really a “new” commandment as in one they’ve never heard before. But what makes it “new” is the source of this love comes from God and not as part of a ritual code. This love needs to be the way…the truth…and the life of anyone who has come to believe in Jesus.  

This is a reshaping of what they had known before. They’re called to become the new hands and feet of Jesus in the world. 

And if they do this…if they love one another just as he has loved them…and just as he will be showing how far that love extends by going to his death…then…then…people will know the disciples as followers of Jesus because they will be known by their love. 

There’s a tune that’s popular at Christian camps written by a Catholic priest in the 1960s that plays on that theme of Christians being known by their love…by their love.

Trouble is…too often…what people have encountered from those who call themselves Christian has not been too loving. 

We are fortunate that at least in our Episcopal Church, there are real concerted efforts to acknowledge and atone for sins such as slavery…and the attempts to wipe out the indigenous cultures of various Native Americans. 

We believe in the sacredness of life…including women and girls.

And we have largely lived through the upheaval of acknowledging the existence of LGBTQ persons in the church. A painful process which our siblings in the United Methodist Church are now facing for themselves involving many of the same factions as the ones who broke away from the Episcopal Church almost twenty years ago. 

Fear and the desperate need for control always seem to want to get in the way of Jesus simple command to love one another.  

What Jesus is communicating in this farewell speech is like a last will and testament to his friends. 

They might not have known in the moment how important these words were going to be for them going forward. 

But we know that seed got planted and came to bloom in Peter when he realizes that he can love those foods and people he thought were unclean.

Philip will baptize an Ethiopian eunuch.

James of Jerusalem will settle a dispute between the way Peter wants to grow the church and how Paul was ministering to the Gentiles. 

All with love. A love that flowed from them from having known Jesus.

His simple words to love spoken at the end of their final meal together became imprinted on their souls and guided their actions in a world where they faced indifference and hostility.

If this was true for them…how much more so is it true for us? 

The closer we stick to the source…the more we pay attention to the words and ministry of Jesus and open ourselves to seek and serve God in each other…the greater chance we have to be the agents of change that this world needs now more than ever.

In the name of God…F/S/HS.

     

 

Mother's Day: It's Complicated

For the first Sunday in what feels like forever, I did not preach. 

I did not even attend a church service in-person or virtually. 

Instead, I was moving furniture, vacuuming and cleaning as we prepare our house for some major and long overdue renovation work. We're lucky to have neighbors who are letting us house sit and take care of their cat while they're away and we are being displaced. 

Because I wasn't preaching, I didn't have to figure out how to handle my own...and maybe others...complicated feelings about the secular Hallmark holiday called "Mother's Day."  My own mother passed away in 2014, and while she appreciated the attention, this was never as an important an occasion for her as--say--Easter or even Christmas. 

It is even more complicated this year because of a leaked U.S. Supreme Court opinion penned by the acerbic Justice Samuel Alito which threatens to undo the nearly 50-year-old legal precedent on abortion called Roe v. Wade. I couldn't help thinking about the dangers that thousands of women will face if Alito and company have their way and abortion laws are turned over to the states. Already, Republican-controlled state legislatures have passed so-called "trigger" laws that would go into effect if the SCOTUS overturns Roe. Some of those laws would make abortion totally illegal, even in cases of rape, incest, or risk to the woman's life. Others shorten the time frame for a legal abortion to 15 weeks, even though medical researchers have concluded that a fetus is not viable outside the womb until 26 weeks. OB/GYN doctors are worried that the criminalization of abortion suggested in some of these state laws will lead to a generation of medical professionals who don't know how to perform the procedure which may be medically necessary if a woman miscarries. Suddenly, doctors and their patients become murderers.

The decision to have a child, and then the risks involved with childbirth, should not be in the hands of politicians or courts or pundits or priests. This is solely the woman's decision, made with a mind toward embracing a vocation of mothering a child. And it is a vocation. Some women are exceptionally good mothers. Some, like me, looking at the responsibility of bringing forth life into the world, have rightly concluded that we are better as supporters of those who want to be mothers rather than becoming one ourselves. 

The debate about abortion in this country, and others, has often been tied up in religion and religious belief. The Episcopal Church has been nuanced and consist in its position on the ethics of abortion. While we support the sacredness of life, we also recognize that the life of the mother is as sacred as any other life. 

The draft of Alito's opinion on this matter makes it clear that women are seen not as having fully-realized human lives. Our wombs are factories meant to meet the demand of a shrinking supply of babies eligible for adoption. 

I can't think of a more anti-Christian position than reducing one half of the human race to being merely a baby making machine. 

I pray this is not the last word on this question. I fear that it might be.  

Lessons We Can Learn: Paul, Peter, and the Start of Their Missions-A Sermon for 3 Easter

The conversion of Paul by Nicolas-Bernard Lepicie, circa 1767.

 I know: that's a VERY long title for this sermon, but it sums up nicely what I was endeavoring to say in this message. This is one of the longer sermons I've preached at St. Barnabas. It also didn't fully exhaust all the thoughts that I was having on the Gospel. That's what happens when your First Reading and your Gospel are both compelling and important stories. 

Honestly, given the rampant conspiracy theories in this country and the Russian shelling and destruction of Ukraine, today's lectionary points the way toward a better reality.

+++

In our Collect for the Day this morning…we remembered how Jesus became known to the disciples in the breaking of the bread. This is an allusion to a Gospel story in Luke about the two disciples on the Road to Emmaus…and their “A-ha” post-resurrection moment with Jesus.

That’s NOT the story we heard today from our Gospel.

Instead, we have a couple of other important moments with Jesus where his revelation serves to not only make himself known, but to start the ball rolling for Peter and Paul to become key leaders in the church.

Now there’s a lot to say about our Gospel lesson…tons and tons to say and notice and think about…and I hope some wheels are spinning in your heads.

I’ll get to Peter in a moment.

The story I really want us to focus on is from our reading out of the Acts of the Apostles… and the conversion of Saul…a-k-a…Paul. 

To me…this story says a lot that is helpful for us in the times in which we are living today.

Saul is on the move. He’s a regular hothead.

As a little background… he was in the crowd when they were stoning death poor Stephen…the first official deacon of the church. Saul was the one holding the coats of the rock throwers. He took delight in seeing this young Stephen lynched for having confessed believing in Jesus as the Messiah. Now...he was on his way to Damascus looking to round up more followers of the Way…men and women…to be tried and pummeled to death.

Suddenly—BAM—the brightest light sends him stumbling to the ground…and he hears Jesus:

“Saul, Saul. Why do you persecute me?”

Now…at first…he doesn’t know this is Jesus.

Think back to the Book of Exodus: bright light…and not knowing the voice…this all sounds a little bit like what happened to Moses with the burning bush.

This is holy ground we’re treading on here with Saul.

After Jesus asks “why are you persecuting me”…Jesus says “But get up and go into the city and you will be told what you are to do.”

Jesus has a plan.

Saul doesn’t know what’s coming…and now he’s blind…literally…and must rely upon the kindness of his fellow travelers to get him into Damascus.

In the meantime…Jesus visits Ananias…a follower of the Way…in a vision.

He tells Ananias to go looking for Saul who will be anticipating this appointment with the good follower of Jesus.

Ananias is no dummy.

He’s heard all about Saul.

He knows that Saul is bad news, and everyone is on edge hearing that this persecutor of the church is coming after them in Damascus. So when Jesus asks Ananias to go toward this dangerous man, he’s like…

”What?!”

Jesus: “Just do it. Trust me.”

Again…remember…this is holy ground.

I’ve just spent a week learning about the ways in which conflict arises…and how to find equilibrium when it feels as if the earth is shifting beneath our feet. And while the word “conflict” conjures up negative feelings in most of us…it’s also the opening to new things…and healthier ways.

In fact…the Chinese word for conflict consists of two characters: the first is the character for “Danger” and the second is the one which means, “Change Point.”

In this scene…two mortal enemies are being brought together. The stronger has become weak and dependent; the weaker is now the one who can help restore the stronger.

Jesus stands in the middle…an equal partner with both.

Ananias prays and heals Saul.

Saul having regained his sight…looks into the face of his healer.

He can see the Jesus in Ananias and becomes a convert to the risen Christ.

What an amazing message in this day and age in which we have become so polarized that we can’t even see the same facts.

What a powerful vision of God’s love for both the “us’es” and the “them’s” in the midst of conflict…threat…and division.

Two who were once enemies are now joined through Jesus and compelled to work together for the building up…rather than the tearing down of people.

At a time of war in Europe and feuding over just about anything “the other side” says or does in this country…this is the scripture for those who need to cling to the hope promised by God that God is with us in our struggles.

This is the scripture that can lead the psalmist to proclaim:

How good and pleasant it is when brethren live together in unity! (Ps.133:1)

This is the start of Saul…soon to be Paul’s ministry to the Gentiles.

But spreading the Gospel was not Paul’s work alone.

Back now to our Gospel and our dear brother Peter.

Peter…having received the Holy Spirit in that locked room when Thomas was off some place else last week…announces that he’s gonna go fishing.

OK…wait a minute.

Peter gets the Holy Spirit and decides he’s going to go BACK to what he was doing before?

Huh??

That’s not how that’s supposed to work. Once the Spirit gets into your body…there’s no going back to how things used to be. Right??

Fortunately…scholars have said this last chapter of John’s Gospel we heard today is a much later addition…an epilogue…and was written by someone other than John.

Still…there’s a lot for us here…and it gives us another moment of redemption and reconciliation.  

You might recall that Peter was the guy who was standing by a charcoal fire in the courtyard of the high priest on the night of Jesus’ arrest. People pick up on his Galilean accent.

They know he “isn’t from around here.”

They question him about his association with Jesus three times.

And all three times…Peter says, “I don’t know this guy?” Then the rooster crows…and Peter…remembering Jesus’ prediction that Peter would deny him three times…becomes mortified and ashamed.

He failed his friend. Big time.

So…here they are.  Another charcoal fire. This time on the beach…by the water. Water often plays a role in transformations in scripture. In my field of bodywork…water is associated with emotions. And we can imagine that with everything that has transpired…emotions are running pretty high for the disciples…especially Peter.

After they’ve feasted on fish at breakfast…Jesus takes Peter aside.

“Do you love me?”

“Yes, I love you.”

“Feed my sheep.”

Do you love me?”

“Yes, I love you.”

“Tend my flock.”

“Do you love me?”

“Oh, c’mon, man. Haven’t you heard me? Yes, I love you.”

“Feed my sheep.”

Peter’s denial is undone.  Jesus has once more laid the trust upon this imperfect disciple to be that rock of the church…and to become the leader Jesus needs him to be for the sake of seeking out the lost, the lonely, and the disinherited ones.

Just as with Saul…Jesus is telling Peter what he will do: feed my sheep.

That’s only half the mission.

The other half involves Peter going where he does not want to go.

We can hear the danger…and the change point in Jesus’ words. Having tested the depth of Peter’s love…the warning is that love does not equal security.

This is where we meet Jesus today.

This is holy ground. We are in the post-resurrection celebratory days of Easter.

And Jesus is calling us to feed the sheep and go into the city…including the places where we may not want to go.

This may mean we have to face a person who does not agree with us or even like us very much.

And…just like Peter…we go into those places with that love of Jesus in our heart.

Living and moving out of that place of love makes a big difference in how people experience Jesus…and perceive the .church of today.

It’s now on us to make known the risen and compassionate Lord…the one we celebrate at this table… as we head back out into our communities this week. Go forth…and do good.