Saturday, April 25, 2009

"The Ministry of Touch"

Touching can be as routine as a handshake or a fist bump. It can be as exploitative as lustful pawing, as threatening as a closed fist. Or, as the Easter account in Luke 24 proclaims, touching can be the means whereby the risen Lord Jesus chooses to make himself known.

After Jesus’ Emmaus appearance, the two disciples hurry back to Jerusalem, where their excited report falls flat. Then Jesus’ sudden appearance scares them out of their wits -- a reaction that would have been ours as well, He shows them his hands and his feet and says, "Touch me and see that it is I myself; for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have."

Note that none did, however. The story is told carefully, so as not to make faith a tactile matter for a few privileged disciples; instead it conveys a trust in the gospel word of Easter for everyone, for all time.

The resurrected Christ, the text declares, is not the product of the disciples’ overactive imagination. He is no ghost, no apparition. Salvation history has never been woven of gossamer wispiness. In the beginning, as Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel masterpiece shows it, God touched humanity into being. In Jesus’ ministry the little ones climbed up into his lap in response to his welcoming touch. The lepers, made outcasts by their disease, were restored by his healing touch.

Now comes the crowning work of the Father in raising his Son as "a spiritual body." This reality which would otherwise confound us and lock us up in endless gnosticism, has become "that which we have seen with our eyes and touched with our hands" (1 John 1:1). Our God is touchable in his Son, who forgives our sins of touch misused as violent assault or loveless abandonment. The Easter Lord gives us back our touch when he invites us to "touch and see."

Touch nurtures. Before birth we were enfolded in our mother’s womb, then nurtured by the milk from her breast, then consoled by a parent’s shoulder, then congratulated on a commencement day. So all of life’s milestones are marked by touch.

Many of us take the nurturing touch right into our liturgy, joining hands and embracing others in the passing of the peace of Christ. Never take such touching for granted. Acceptance, encouragement, trust and hope come through in the touch of hand upon hands as the risen Lord touches us through others.

That nurturing touch gets through when nothing else does. When I was doing Senior Adult Ministry at Pasadena First United Methodist Church I used to visit a homebound church member named Isobel who is confined to her bed and hardly communicates back. But when I talk to her and touch her hand, she faintly squeezes back. Is it a sympathetic reflex? A sacramental sign that grace still gets through? Both, I think.

Touch reconciles. In Jesus’ parable of the prodigal son, the waiting father does not hold back in tight-lipped reticence, waving a sheet of conditions handed to him by the older brother sulking in the distance. That bear hug of reconciling love says, it all. It speaks of a love strong enough to bear a cross and to say with authority to frightened disciples, "Touch me and see." Through the open arms of forgiven and forgiving people, the deepest wounds are set upon a path of healing.

I see that power at work in pastoral care for those so alienated from each other in faltering marriages that the one can only recoil from the offered hand of the other. These who have shared life’s most intimate and whole-bodied touching cannot touch any more! But signs of breakthrough begin when, after trust is built, each can take my hand as the bearer of Christ’s touch, and allow me to join their hands.

Thus does the Easter Lord keep on inviting, "Touch me and see." That touch surmounts every barrier. Remember the magic moment near the end of the film Driving Miss Daisy: The black chauffeur (played by Morgan Freeman) and the white patrician lady (played by Jessica Tandy) wordlessly clasp their hands in a simple yet profoundly moving gesture. Such moments point to the wonder of reconciliation.

Touch points us to the future. The risen Lord’s invitation to touch and see portends what is yet to come for our bodies. We long for that fulfillment, to embrace the Christ and those long gone from us.

But before all that, our hands are for reaching the hungry, imprisoned, naked, sick and all those in whom Jesus meets us. In prison visits, I see what happens when a visitor leaves the visited. Each places a hand to the glass partition separating them, longing to touch but unable to do so. Seeing that moves me not to take for granted the freedom to clasp another’s hand in the daily rounds of life. The number of hungry folk coming to our church door is rising, and the food pantry boxes in this and other parishes can’t keep up. But ministry moves a notch deeper when there can be a hand on a shoulder and an invitation to sit together and talk about more than a handout. In the hallways of nursing homes across the land, many spend hours wondering if family or friends will ever come to touch their hands. From every side and in the most unexpected ways, the Christ meets us in the call to touch lives that ask so little yet need so much.

Touch sanctifies memory. Before I met Joy, I used to have a favorite cup in Iowa for my morning coffee. It was my mother’s long before it was mine. I brought it to the United States when I migrated in 1991. For years it had its place on the kitchen window sill in our home in the Philippines. The chip was still on the rim, reminding me of the one time I was washing that cup and dropped it on the sink. My mother’s hands have long since relinquished that old cup, but because she was all that she was to me, I can hold it and remember.

We do well to gather our memories around things we can touch, especially baptismal water and the bread and wine of the Communion meal. These sustain us as we journey, hand in hand, with the whole company of the faithful, toward the eternal Easter yet to come. Amen

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

"In Remembrance of Me"

As we go back to the final moments of Jesus and his disciples, one can't help but ask the question what was in the mind of Jesus? First and foremost, there was this argument going on as to who is the greatest among them. Second, there was the declaration of who the traitor is. And then, lastly, there is the prediction of Peter's upcoming denial of the Son of Man.

As Christians, we have become familiar with the word's Jesus' said that night. Strangely enough, according to Barclay, the form of his words never came from the Gospels but rather from Paul's first letter to the Corinthians which was said to be written prior to the Gospels. Jesus gives thanks and breaks the bread and said: "This is my body which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me." Then after that, he takes the cup and says: "This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me."

Interestingly enough, according to Barclay, in Matthew and Mark the word "new" is not placed before the word "covenant." Only in 1 Cornthians can you find this word configuration.

More important than this is finding out what Jesus meant by his words.

Of course, the Passover will always serve as a background for this event. Initially, this event reminds people of how God, through the blood of the lamb, was able to liberate them from the clutches of the Egyptians. Then after that, Jesus gave new meaning to this meal by equating himself as the sacrifical lamb that liberates humankind from sin.

In addition, the event brings out the idea of covenant. That a new relationship between God and humankind has been established through the life of Jesus Christ. Unlike the old covenant, where everythings is based on our obedience to the law, the new covenant is maintained by the blood, life and death of Jesus Christ. And because of this a new relationship between God and humankind has become possible.

Question now becomes for us: What, then, must this sacrament of the Lord's of Supper be to us?

Barclay contends that the Supper is a means of memory. It is the memorial of Jesus. It was a means to awaken the human memory which has the potential to become "forgetful" or "lethargic." Jesus offered us this action so that we can be reminded of his claim and of his sacrifice for us.

Furthermore, Barclay mentions that, in addition to a memorial, Jesus' action serves as a confrontational piece of who Jesus is in our lives, and a realization of the terrible, destructive power of sin; that it is because of sin that our personal relationship with God was broken. The activity of the Lord's Supper enables us, the participant, to realize how we have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.

As the Church, we are called to repeat that dramatic and symbolic action that Jesus did that night with his disciples. But what is to be repeated? It is a fact that the Gospel doesn't give us any definitive instruction as to repetition. Barclay further states, maybe "Jesus did not intend to institute a symbolic meal." Rather, he was making a point, with his actions, that wherever bread is broken and shared, and wine poured he is in the midst of them. That Christianity is something that needs to be practiced not just in the communion tables but also in our dinner tables as well. That everytime we remember our Lord (doing something with the 'least of these') the ordinary (i.e. eating and drinking) becomes a special encounter (Sacrament) with our Lord; an experience of his presence.

Saturday, April 18, 2009

"How the Disciples Got Their Groove Back"

Your best friend just got murdered - executed, in fact. You could have helped him escape, but you ran instead. You’re angry and disappointed, not only in yourself, but in your friend. He said he could handle it. He said he was big enough to avoid it. He said he was God. Or at least, that’s what you heard.And you are scared.People know who you are. You were inseparable for years. You witnessed his “crimes” and you know you were an accomplice. You are thinking to yourself, “How am I going to get out of this? How am I going to get out of town?” Your hopes have been dashed and a once bright future is now very dark indeed.Can you picture the scene? The doors are locked. The room is dim. There is a low murmur of voices in the background as you sit in a corner and review for the hundredth time the contradictions, the injustices, and your own role in the horrible death of your best friend.I am fairly certain that we have all been sitting in that spot, in that room at some point in our life. We have let ourselves down, we have failed our friends, and Lord knows we have betrayed our Master with much sin. We see our own sins, we know our own hearts and we become very good at beating up on ourselves. My imagination has quite a lot to work with as I envision that room in John 20:19-31 on the evening of the day the disciples discovered that not only was their Master dead, but his body was gone.

But I wonder, “What do you see in that room? What do you see after betrayal, after disappointment, after sin? What do you see “after”? I’ll tell you what I see. I immediately see “Fear.” It is very obvious and real – the disciples are scared of the Jews, according to John and the doors are locked. After disappointment and betrayal, there is fear.Fear is something that we have all had to deal with. It was Dave Barry, that great humorist, who said, "All of us are born with a set of instinctive fears - of falling, of the dark, of lobsters, of falling on lobsters in the dark, or speaking before a crowd, and of the words "Some Assembly Required." 1I learned recently that fear even determines the price of gold. There is a factor in gold options known as the “Fear Index,” invented by James Turk in the 1980’s. “When the Fear Index is rising (which occurs when money is flowing into gold, pushing up its exchange rate and raising the market value of U.S. gold reserves), it’s usually because people are worried about the dollar or the health of the U.S. banking system and are looking for alternative stores of value.” 3Here were the disciples of Jesus sitting in failure, betrayal, confusion, disappointment, shame, and guilt. If you read through the context surrounding this passage in John 20, you will find that the disciples had misunderstood Jesus’ teachings, had misinterpreted his miracles, and had even been misdirected by their own culture as they followed Jesus.

No wonder they were afraid.Where does FEAR come from? It actually is self-generated based on our interpretations of what we see. A simple acrostic for fear is this:
FalseEvidenceAppearingReal.Fear was real for them and it is real for us. And most of the time it comes because we do not understand what we are seeing. They are human. They did not understand. They were afraid of being locked up and crucified. They were afraid of the Jews.I tend to agree with the writer who said, “The first thing that is imperative to understand and accept is … The more you resist fear, and try to directly overcome it, the stronger it gets. The more attention you give it, the more it grows.” 4But not only do I see fear in that room, after fear I see forgiveness.I see forgiveness demonstrated by the first words out of Jesus’ mouth when he entered the room. “Peace be with you!” Not “Where were you guys?” Not “How could you have let me down?” But, “Peace be with you” - forgiveness from the start.

How often do we fail to keep forgiveness by bringing up the past with someone? How many times doe we make sure the other party knows how little we think of them, how much it hurt?Story was told of a mother who ran into the bedroom when she heard her seven-year-old son scream. She found his two-year-old sister pulling his hair. She gently released the little girl’s grip and said comfortingly to the boy, "There, there. She didn’t mean it. She doesn’t know that hurts." He nodded his acknowledgement, and she left the room. As she started down the hall the little girl screamed. Rushing back in, she asked, "What happened?" The little boy replied, "She knows now." 5I see forgiveness demonstrated by the assignment he immediately gave them. “I am sending you as the Father sent me.” He immediately indicated his trust in them by giving them an assignment, a task, a command even, to carry on his work. “It reflects the principle that the authority of the one who is sent is the same as the authority of the one who sent him—the king’s emissary speaks with the authority of the king. God is present in the work of Jesus; Jesus will be present in the work of the disciples.” I see forgiveness demonstrated by the gift Jesus gave them, the gift of the Holy Spirit. This passage may be a bit confusing in light of the section in the book of Acts where the Holy Spirit is given, but as I understand it, this was an initial gift of the Holy Spirit to enable them to accomplish the task he had just given them.

Much like the birth of the Holy Spirit in our hearts when we first come to Jesus in saving faith, these disciples had finally believed in both the death and the resurrection of Jesus. They had not received the initial gift of the Holy Spirit until this day.And I also see forgiveness demonstrated by the authority he gave to his disciples. I am reminded here of Matt. 16:19 in which Jesus tells Peter, “Whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven,” and Matt 18:18, which gives the same authority to the disciples in a context having to do with the resolution of church conflict. But while those passages refer to authority over things in the law, this passage refers specifically to authority over people. 7So the proper sense here is not to forgive the sins of someone – only God can do that – but, through the discernment of the Holy Spirit, to either punish or not punish a person according to their degree of stubbornness. Jesus indicated his forgiveness by authorizing them to carry on the work that he himself had begun. Not only does he send them, enable them, but he authorizes them. He gives them his own authority.And finally, after the fear, and after the forgiveness in that room, I see faith. I see faith restored. Into that room walked someone they thought they would never see again. Hope sprang fresh from the darkness of their hearts. They witnessed in person the Living Lord, and rejoiced. Their faith was restored. They got their groove back.

Of course the story will not be complete without Thomas who missed out on the first experience of the Disciples. On the claims of his friends Thomas makes an outrageous demand: "Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe" (v. 25). He is only prepared to lay aside his unfaith if the risen Jesus meets his criteria.... Thomas demands that Jesus be ’touchable.’ ...He insists that the risen body of Jesus fulfill his requirements" (Moloney, 537). 9Without condemning or scolding, Jesus invites Thomas to examine the truth. He didn’t call him a “Doubting Thomas.” That’s a name we’ve invented for this man. I think we’ve done so because we see in Thomas our own unbelief. We usually condemn those in which we see our own sins reflected.
But Thomas believed, and his faith was restored. In this whole thing we see that Jesus invites faith in him with gentleness, kindness, recognizing our need for evidence, and then blessing us with greater faith. He does not condemn, nor does he resort to name-calling. He invites us to examine him, to know him. As the old song says, “Do you see what I see?” In spite of your sins, your unbelief, betrayal and your fear, He wants to get your groove back, bless you with forgiveness and faith. Amen

Friday, April 17, 2009

Sermon Thoughts (4-19-09)

It's commonly known in Christian circles that the Church started at Pentecost. But as we see here in this passage, it was during Jesus' first appearance to the Disciples that Jesus first gave the Holy Spirit thus giving birth to the Church. That what happened in Acts 1-2 was the empowering not giving birth to the Church like what most people think.

The events on this passage happened the evening of Easter. The Disciples were still startled and confused following the events on Good Friday. As far as the Disciples were concerned, they see themselves as complete failures as they allowed their Master to suffer and die on the Cross. For the first time in a long time they find themselves powerless, helpless, and unable to forgive themselves as they couldn't protect their Master; the one who gave them hope for the future. And now that their leader is gone, life, as they know it, will never be the same again. For a brief moment the Disciples lost their way.

But it was at this moment that Jesus came to them and said, "Peace be with you" (Jn. 20:26). Passing through the lock doors, he came and showed them the marks on his hands and sides. Then after that, he comissioned them and gave them the Holy Spirit (restored them) that they can be the Church for the world. All of a sudden, the Disciples got their groove back.

Like the Disciples, there are moments in our lives when we think that life is over because the door closed on us, and things didn't come out the way we planned. We feel powerless and defeated. But Jesus comes to us through the "close doors" of life and gives us his presence. All of a sudden, everything is alright with the world. We are restored! Thanks be to God! Amen

Why Do We Do the Things We Do?

Chapter 23 of William Barclay's book The Mind of Jesus gives readers a deep understanding as to how a simple Passover meal between Jesus and his disciples became a memorial dinner that is worth remembering. One can't help but wonder how Jesus, with all of his schedules, can manage to make arrangements to make sure that all of the details that he wanted will be taken care of. For starters he knew precisely to where and to whom he was sending the disciples ahead to make the preparations (Matthew 26:17-19; Mark 14:12-16; Luke 22:7-13). They are to find a place with a large upper room; a place normally used as a guest room or storage and have that as a place where a rabbi can meet his disciples and commune with them. To find this place they were to find a man carrying a water pot; something that an ordinary man would never say yes to, since this is a woman's job, but under the circumstances would agree to since this is something that the Lord needed. Once the arrangements were made the disciples found the things as Jesus said and they made all the preparations. It's interesting to note here that in such events people would prepare food themselves, and that every food that they make enables the participant to remember why they are gathering that day. In addition, in those days, Barclay states that every scrap of food at the event had to be eaten, and nothing must be left on the plate. Such is a big contrast to the way the Western world goes about hosting an event. Normally Americans would just have these events catered (with the details left to the hands of the event planner or co-ordinator). And at times the attendees don't even know why they are there or what they are celebrating. So why do we do the things we do? It seems as though we have lost perspective as a society and as a church. Most everything has become ordinary. We keep doing things (i.e. events, practices, and rituals), but we don't know why we are doing it. Maybe we need to go back and re-connect with our heritage so that we can rediscover their value. So that the ordinary can become meaningful again.