Seeing the Light

 “Seeing the Light” was preached on April 5, 2016 at Princeton Theological Seminary as part of my “When Sundays Come Quicker Than Sermons” course. It was part of the social justice unit. Inspirations for this sermon include Scripture, personal experiences, redemption & reconciliation, and the need for prison ministry.

—————————————

Acts 9:1-20

1 Meanwhile Saul, still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest 2 and asked him for letters to the synagogues at Damascus, so that if he found any who belonged to the Way, men or women, he might bring them bound to Jerusalem. 3 Now as he was going along and approaching Damascus, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. 4 He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” 5 He asked, “Who are you, Lord?” The reply came, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. 6 But get up and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do.” 7 The men who were traveling with him stood speechless because they heard the voice but saw no one. 8 Saul got up from the ground, and though his eyes were open, he could see nothing; so they led him by the hand and brought him into Damascus. 9 For three days he was without sight, and neither ate nor drank.

10 Now there was a disciple in Damascus named Ananias. The Lord said to him in a vision, “Ananias.” He answered, “Here I am, Lord.” 11 The Lord said to him, “Get up and go to the street called Straight, and at the house of Judas look for a man of Tarsus named Saul. At this moment he is praying, 12 and he has seen in a vision a man named Ananias come in and lay his hands on him so that he might regain his sight.” 13 But Ananias answered, “Lord, I have heard from many about this man, how much evil he has done to your saints in Jerusalem; 14 and here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who invoke your name.” 15 But the Lord said to him, “Go, for he is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel; 16 I myself will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name.” 17 So Ananias went and entered the house. He laid his hands on Saul and said, “Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on your way here, has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.” 18 And immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and his sight was restored. Then he got up and was baptized, 19 and after taking some food, he regained his strength.

For several days he was with the disciples in Damascus, 20 and immediately he began to proclaim Jesus in the synagogues, saying, “He is the Son of God.”

—————————————

Several years ago I remember sitting with a stranger in what I imagine would have been one of the lower moments of her life. The night before she had been arrested for a DUI charge. As she cried and cried, this stranger told me how her life was over and how her dreams were shattered. She worried she would get kicked out of school.  She worried she would never be able to get a job. She even worried her parents would cut her off and disown her due to her being a “disappointment” as a child. She believed she would carry that one night with her for the rest of her life. She cried and she cried and she cried.

As this was several years ago, this was also around the time I was coming to terms with my own Christian identity. I remember sitting with her in that moment and asking myself the cliché question, “What would Jesus do? What would Jesus say?” I didn’t have the answer. In fact, while I may have felt compassion for this stranger, I also felt angry. I was angry with myself for getting involved. I was angry with the stranger for mistake she had made. I was angry with the police officer that made this girl feel like a worthless, broken criminal. But most of all, I was angry with God for I believed it was God that let this girl – this stranger to me – think that she would be defined for the rest of her life by the punishments and consequences that would come from this one mistake.

This stranger came and went. After an hour or so of sitting with her, she would leave and I would never see her again. However, this anger did not leave me so quickly. It sat with me longer. Over the course of the next few days all I could think was about how justice system in America was represented by the consequences and punishments this stranger would experience after just one mistake. I despised that idea, so I decided I wanted to play my part in changing that. Since it was at the same time I was first starting to develop my Christian beliefs and since these beliefs would eventually shape my call during my time at seminary, this revelation of wanting change came as a pivotal, formational moment of in my own calling to ministry. Therefore, although I didn’t know how I would do it or what it would look like, I would eventually realize volunteering in ministry was meant to be a part in my call. Part of this means I must believe in and advocate for what we can do for the men and women who are currently incarcerated.

In our lectionary Epistle reading we have the story of the call and conversion of Saul. We would eventually know him as Paul, writer of nearly half the books found in the New Testament. Saul wasn’t always the great disciple of Jesus Christ like we know him to be today. Before his conversion, he wasn’t even a follower of Christ. Rather, Saul was a persecutor calling for the death of all those who declared Jesus Christ as Lord. Day after day, mistake after mistake, Saul would threaten and punish anyone who believed differently than himself. He could have even been considered an enemy to Christ and an enemy to the Gospel. However, Christ did not punish Saul for being the enemy. Rather, he made Saul see the light. Literally, Christ made Saul see the light. It was a light so bright that Saul was blinded for three days. While going without sight while also going without food or drink I’m sure is a punishment worth mentioning, it should also be said that while that was happening, Saul was going through his own transformation found through Christ. It was a transformation filled with redemption and reconciliation and grace. It would be a transformation filled with chances for new beginnings and a better life. We hear at the end of this story that after Saul was blinded and lost for three days, he regained his sight and strength and declared Jesus as Lord, the Son of God.

This is what prison ministry can be today. Let us believe that the people inside of prison walls and jail cells will not be forever defined by their consequences or punishments or even the mistakes they made. We must believe they are worth the redemption found in Christ. We must believe they can be reconciled through Christ. We must believe grace has been extended to people inside incarceration from the Lord and Savior of All, Jesus Christ.

Following that moment with the stranger, I made the conclusion. If Christ died on the cross for me, then Christ must have died on the cross for you. If Christ died on the cross for Saul the enemy, then Christ must have died on the cross for a stranger. If Christ died on the cross for those who are free, then Christ must have died on the cross for those who are not. If Christ died on the cross for anybody, then Christ must have died on the cross for everybody. No one should be prevented from seeing the light.

I believe in what Christ has done and what Christ will do. I believe in redemption and reconciliation. I believe Christ can free the oppressed. We should not be defined by our mistakes. Rather, let us sit and pray with those who believe they are not worth being prayed for. Christ can work in mysterious ways. I give thanks to God for that. Amen.

—————————————

'I AM' More Than a Man

“‘I AM’ More Than a Man” was preached on March 29, 2016 at Princeton Theological Seminary as part of my “When Sundays Come Quicker Than Sermons” course. It was part of the social justice unit. Inspirations for this sermon include Scripture, feminist theology, inclusive language, and biblical titles for God.

—————————————

Exodus 3:1-15

1 Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law Jethro, the priest of Midian; he led his flock beyond the wilderness, and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. 2 There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush; he looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed. 3 Then Moses said, “I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up.” 4 When the Lord saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” 5 Then [God] said, “Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” 6 [God] said further, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God.

7 Then the Lord said, “I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry on account of their taskmasters. Indeed, I know their sufferings, 8 and I have come down to deliver them from the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey, to the country of the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites. 9 The cry of the Israelites has now come to me; I have also seen how the Egyptians oppress them. 10 So come, I will send you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.” 11 But Moses said to God, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” 12 [God] said, “I will be with you; and this shall be the sign for you that it is I who sent you: when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall worship God on this mountain.”

13 But Moses said to God, “If I come to the Israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your ancestors has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what shall I say to them?” 14 God said to Moses, “I am who I am.” [God] said further, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘I am has sent me to you.’” 15 God also said to Moses, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘The Lord, the God of your ancestors, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, has sent me to you’: This is my name forever, and this my title for all generations.”

—————————————

A few months ago I preached and led worship at my home congregation First Presbyterian Church in Sterling, Colorado. As the service ended, I said a particular word towards the end of the benediction that left some of the congregation members in shock. Before I fully realized what I had said or how it would be received there, I looked out and saw faces varied with sly smiles or confused glances. While some of the members rejoiced in my word choice, I could tell others felt uncomfortable. When I asked myself why this would be, I made the conclusion the words I spoke must have been somewhat of a new and almost foreign concept. In all honestly, it was different than what most of us are used to when we make a reference to God. After I thought about this more, I realized the problem was I ended the service with a benediction without even explaining what I said or why I said it. Today I wanted to address that conversation.

Let us go back to that benediction. My exact words were, “May the Lord bless you and keep you. May the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you. May the Lord look upon you with favor and give you her peace.” It is a well-known benediction coming from the book of Numbers, but I made a few addendums with the word choice. We are okay with “his face.” Actually, I am sure some of us did not even notice the word “his” in there. We are used to that. We are comfortable with that. But when I said “her peace,” we seem to notice that one. The word “her” sticks out like a sore thumb, an awkward word placed towards the end of a phrase we know all too well. However, it is not meant to be awkward. It is meant to be inclusive. The idea is if I am going to refer to God with masculine language, I want to then balance it out by referring to God with feminine language. When it was received with shock and confusion, I knew we should have a conversation about why preachers such as myself occasionally use feminine language in reference to God and how I believe it can help us understand who God is and how God reveals Godself to us.

First, throughout Scripture in both the Older and Newer Testament, God is referred to both as male and female figures. In Genesis we are told both male and female alike are created in God’s image. In the Psalms and other Old Testament books God is sometimes referred to as a woman with labor pains and as a woman giving birth. There is an image of God as a midwife delivering humankind from suffering and hostility. Another time God is compared to holding the same compassion for her children as the compassion a woman has as she nurses her child. In some examples God is likened to a mother of humankind and other examples she is likened to a mother to a variety of animals such as bears, eagles, and hens. There is even a parable where God is explained as a woman searching for her lost coin. In other words, God as feminine figure is rooted in Scripture.

Now to the next idea. Whether God is referred to as a mother or a woman or as a king or a father, we must consider what we are actually saying and why we are saying it. We will never be able to fully explain who God is. Our human minds cannot fully grasp this topic. After all, even Moses had to turn his face when looking upon God. But to understand God the best that we can, we need to be open to embracing the variety of ways God reveals Godself to us. Therefore, I find it necessary to use masculine, feminine, and gender-neutral language when talking about God. Whether we refer to God as a male or a female, we must remember God is still God. God has always been God. God will always be God. God is… God.

We hear this in the words God spoke to Moses. When Moses poses God the question, “What is your name?” God responds with a cryptic yet oddly self-explanatory declaration. “I Am who I Am.” In Hebrew to English, this could also be translated as, “I Will Be who I Will Be.” In the years that have passed and in the years to come, the Great “I Am” has and always will be God. The “I Am” is the same God of Moses’ ancestors, the same God of Abraham, the same God of Isaac, the same God of Jacob, the same God of all. Always present, never changing; God as God. The “I Am” as the “I Am.”

I love this name for God. I love it because I do not believe there are words in our human vocabulary that can completely describe or encompass who or what God is. The closest we can say is “God is who God is. God will be who God will be.” Whether we refer to God as a masculine or feminine figure, we are not fully explaining who or what God is, but when we do, we are using words and images that help us understand God even better. Only referring to God as a masculine figure would limit our possibilities of explaining who God is or how God comes to us. By further limiting our vocabulary by only using masculine language in a vocabulary that is already limited by human knowledge constrains the idea of God to a reduced, incomplete, and a not-always-so-well-received figure. Using feminine language to describe God opens doors to new and greater possibilities of understanding the mystery that is God.

Refer to God as a man or refer to God as a woman; just understand that either way we are not fully describing who God is or how God reveals Godself to us. Rather, when we use both masculine and feminine language to describe God, we are expanding our understanding of God while being intentionally inclusive to the people around us. For some of us it is easier for us to see God as a father; for others it might be easier for us to see God as a mother. Be open to the possibility of both. Be open to the possibility of God as a masculine or feminine figure as truly, God is both and God is neither. After all, we are talking about the Creator of everything, everything including gender and the language we use. God as Father; God as Mother; God as the great “I Am.”

God is God. God was God. God will be God. God is who God is. That is enough of a reason to give thanks to God. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; one God, Mother of us all. Amen.

—————————————

Is Your Sanctuary a Safe Space?

          “Is Your Sanctuary a Safe Space?” was preached on March 22, 2016 at Princeton Theological Seminary as part of my “When Sundays Come Quicker Than Sermons” course. It was part of the course's social justice unit. While the intended audience for this sermon is for current and future leaders of the church, the message behind it is important for everyone to consider. Inspirations for this sermon include Scripture, commentaries, Pauline analysis and criticism, relevant issues in society, and the future of the church.

—————————————

Romans 1:1-17

1 Paul, a servant of Jesus Christ, called to be an apostle, set apart for the gospel of God, 2 which he promised beforehand through his prophets in the holy scriptures, 3 the gospel concerning his Son, who was descended from David according to the flesh 4 and was declared to be Son of God with power according to the spirit of holiness by resurrection from the dead, Jesus Christ our Lord, 5 through whom we have received grace and apostleship to bring about the obedience of faith among all the Gentiles for the sake of his name, 6 including yourselves who are called to belong to Jesus Christ,

7 To all God’s beloved in Rome, who are called to be saints: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

8 First, I thank my God through Jesus Christ for all of you, because your faith is proclaimed throughout the world. 9 For God, whom I serve with my spirit by announcing the gospel of his Son, is my witness that without ceasing I remember you always in my prayers, 10 asking that by God’s will I may somehow at last succeed in coming to you. 11 For I am longing to see you so that I may share with you some spiritual gift to strengthen you— 12 or rather so that we may be mutually encouraged by each other’s faith, both yours and mine. 13 I want you to know, brothers and sisters, that I have often intended to come to you (but thus far have been prevented), in order that I may reap some harvest among you as I have among the rest of the Gentiles. 14 I am a debtor both to Greeks and to barbarians, both to the wise and to the foolish 15 —hence my eagerness to proclaim the gospel to you also who are in Rome.

16 For I am not ashamed of the gospel; it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who has faith, to the Jew first and also to the Greek. 17 For in it the righteousness of God is revealed through faith for faith; as it is written, “The one who is righteous will live by faith.”

—————————————

It is in Paul’s opening address to the Romans where we hear the need to listen to the good news found in the Gospel! We are called to belong to Christ. Each of us. All of us. It is through our belonging to Christ where we are also called to be in close fellowship with all of humankind. This includes people who were once strangers to us and with people who were once even our enemies. While we may label others – the ones Christ has called our neighbors – as strangers and enemies, we know the greatest enemy to this fellowship is ourselves. Our very nature and our lack of conversation has left our fellowships broken and individuals separated from one another. This is especially true in regards to the Church and the inclusion of the LGBTQ community, as both historically and in the world today, we have done what we can to explicitly and implicitly exclude this community from the universal Christian church.

As an openly gay man pursuing ordained ministry in the Presbyterian Church (USA), one of more common questions I get from my fellow queer brothers and sisters as well as those who identify outside of the gender binary is, “Is your sanctuary a safe space?”

This is a not a new or foreign question for me. As a member of the LGBTQ community, I know exactly what they are asking. When a member of the LGBTQ community asks you the question, “Is your sanctuary a safe space?,” they are asking “Is your church – all of your church including its members – open and affirming to LGBTQ individuals?” or “Are the LGBTQ individuals who enter through your doors at risk to become the subjects of abuse?”

Now I’m not just talking about physical abuse here – although it wouldn’t be wrong for LGBTQ folks to question their safety regarding that either. I am talking about emotional and spiritual abuse, and it can come from all different facets of ministry. It can be in the words delivered from the pulpit. It can be in the classroom as part of the curriculum to which students will be exposed. It can even be in the overheard conversations between members and colleagues during times of fellowship. All of these moments have the risk of teaching, judging, and condemning LGBTQ members of all ages that they are mistake of God’s creation, a sin not saved by Christ’s grace, or an abomination separated from power of the Spirit.

When we actually consider what kind of abuse is at risk here, we begin to understand “Is your sanctuary a safe space?” as a valid question. It should also be a haunting question. In a sanctuary – a sanctuary! – the question of safety is being asked! Please, take a moment, and consider that! In a sacred place where we come to join our voices together to glorify God, there are some of us who fear the very words that might be professed.  This question should be starting to bother us. It should be starting to haunt us. When you are asked the question, “Is your sanctuary a safe space?,” even if you answer with, “Yes,” the truth is you are only answering for yourself. Your congregations and the people you work with will also play a part.

Does your congregations support your claims? And for those of you working in ministry outside of the church, do your students or colleagues support yours? Can you honestly and fully 100% be certain that your place is a safe space? How do you know? Have you had these conversations with the people you work with? Would you be willing to have these conversations? Is sexuality, sexual orientation, or gender identity openly talked about in your setting? Do you know if the LGBTQ community is open and affirmed in your context? It is in these questions where the problem lies. If we are not willing to have to conversations with our congregations or the people we work with regarding inclusion of the LGBTQ community, we cannot be certain our sanctuary is a safe space.

Even if your theology or personal beliefs prevent you from being open and affirming to LGBTQ individuals, I urge you to at least consider this. The LGBTQ community is among the most complex and lonely minority group. Unlike any other minority group, members of the LGBTQ community are sometimes rejected by their own churches, friends, and families because of what makes them different. Remember, almost all LGBTQ individuals come from straight, CIS parents. Often starting at a very early age, LGBTQ individuals have a growing awareness that they are different from the rest of their family, and it is often something they go through all alone. They go through it alone because once again, it is something we have just not talked about. Is it really the Christian message to let others feel broken and alone?

These are the conversations we need to be having. 87% of United States citizens know someone in the LGBTQ community. If you are a member of the Princeton Theological community, then even some of your own friends, classmates, and faculty and staff identify as part of the LGBTQ community. When you know someone who is a part of this community, it is not so easy to avoid these conversations.

I know what follows in Romans 1. I know what some of us think Paul has said about the LGBTQ community. I know the verses and passages that might cause some of us to think at a surface level interpretation that homosexuality is a sin. But we need to wrestle with these passages; we need to consider what the Gospel is really calling us to understand. We must be willing to do our research. We must be willing to spend time in prayer. We must be willing to question what identity means and how the revelation of God can come to us through all sorts of people. We must be willing to talk about LGBTQ inclusion with each other and with our congregations and with our colleagues and with our students now and in all the years to come.

We are called to live into the Gospel of Jesus Christ for like Paul, we are not ashamed of the truth it brings. This is what the Gospel says: it says we are loved by our Creator, extended grace by our Redeemer, and set apart by our Sustainer. Our identity and our relationships with one another rely on the transformation found in the outpouring of God’s love, grace, and power. The LGBTQ community is not separated from this! God has not separated them from the church; we have! This is our doing, our responsibility… this is our failing. Instead of preventing the fellowship of believers by exclusion, we need to intentionally and purposely extend the invitation of inclusion as God has called us to do exactly that. Is your sanctuary a safe space? My friends, it is time to have that conversation. Amen.

—————————————

Boxed In

          “Boxed In” was preached at Princeton Theological Seminary on Tuesday, April 5, 2016 as the meditation in my Senior Chapel Service. Inspirations and themes found in this short message include Scripture, commentaries, self-identity, perceived societal roles, and personal experiences.

—————————————

Jeremiah 1:4-10

⁴Now the word of the Lord came to me saying, ⁵“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations.” ⁶Then I said, “Ah, Lord God! Truly I do not know how to speak, for I am only a boy.” ⁷But the Lord said to me, “Do not say, ‘I am only a boy’; for you shall go to all to whom I send you, and you shall speak whatever I command you, ⁸Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you, says the Lord.” ⁹Then the Lord put out his hand and touched my mouth; and the Lord said to me, “Now I have put my words in your mouth. ¹⁰See, today I appoint you over nations and over kingdoms, to pluck up and to pull down, to destroy and to overthrow, to build and to plant.”

—————————————

When members of the LGBTQ community come out, we do so to free ourselves from a box of lies in which we feel trapped. We often spend our youth muting ourselves, staying down and hiding away. Our lives seem to be covered in a haze that comes like a thick and terrible fog choking the dreams and aspirations we had set for ourselves until these dreams and aspirations wither and die. This box becomes even smaller as we grow older, and LGBTQ individuals may feel like they have no room to grow or to flourish. As we force ourselves to stay hidden, we realize we cannot live like this anymore. In moments that feel like taking the first breath of air after years of drowning, we come out to our family and our friends, and we reveal an intimate and vulnerable part of ourselves. It is also in these moments that many of us decide to never be forced into a box like that again.

However, more often than not, that would be the exact next thing to happen. When LGBTQ members free themselves from the box they forced themselves into, society would soon force them into a new box. It would be a new box of stereotypes, discrimination, and even hate. Society would use this box as the box to define them. Society would ignore everything else that made members of LGBTQ community as unique and special individuals, but use this as their sole source of judgment for the community as a whole. If you don’t possibly think this could be true, remember there are still states in our country where members of the LGBTQ community can be refused employment for exactly that. And on an even larger scale, remember there are still countries in the world where being queer is a crime or even a death sentence. Once again, we are trapped in a box. Once again, we feel like we are drowning.

The unfortunate truth is we all know this feeling because we have all been trapped in a box of our own. Whether you are a part of the LGBTQ community or not, at one point or another, society has forced you into a box that they would use to define you. For example… If you are a man, you must do this and if you are a woman, you must do that. If you are neither, good luck finding your place in the world. If you are black or Hispanic or Asian or white, you must have defining characteristics that makes you just like everyone else who shares in your skin color. Society has at one point let you know that you are defined by your disability, or society has stopped you from doing something because they have believed you to be too young or too old. Whatever our religious affiliation, we have been given the same set of stereotypes that may or may not describe us at all. We have been forced into a box. We have been trapped by this box. We have been wrongly defined by this box. The moment any of us were set apart for greatness, the world did what it could to limit our potential and make us feel trapped once again.

Jeremiah too once felt trapped in a box that he believed defined him. Jeremiah was a descendent from a line of priests; he was the original Pastor’s Kid. So when the Lord came to Jeremiah and called him into service, you think Jeremiah would respond with eager willingness and authority. But that is not what happened. Jeremiah instead responds with hesitation and worry; there’s a type of concern in his voice. When God calls Jeremiah into service, Jeremiah lists the reasons of why he is not the one for the job. One, he doesn’t know how to speak, and two, he’s only a boy. This was his box. Jeremiah believed no one would listen to a boy who didn’t know how to speak especially when the messages he was called to bring to the people revolved around themes of destruction and devastation. Before Jeremiah would even start his lifetime of ministry, he tried to limit his own potential and stay hidden in that tiny box. But God wouldn’t have any of it. God never seems to have any of it. And we know if you’re called to ministry, then you’re called to ministry. That’s the way it will be. God assured Jeremiah that even before he was born, when he was still in the first physical box that every human experiences – the womb – God knew Jeremiah and God would set Jeremiah apart. He would be consecrated to serve, and he would be set free from all and every human-made box that he believed would define him. It did not matter that he could not speak or that he was only a boy; he was one of God’s and God would use him.

We too can be freed from the boxes that could define us. We too can refuse to let anything limit our potential as we listen to God’s calling in our own lives. Everything that could bring us down, we can instead let God build us up. We are known. We are set apart. We are consecrated. We are made free.

When we are freed from the boxes that once negatively defined us in captivity, maybe our calling is now to look around us at the people we are called to serve. Let us go out and find who else might still be trapped by their own boxes as they await for their release. Let us remember how God has opened our boxes so that we may help others open theirs. Let us call to mind the mighty acts God has performed in our lives so that we may dare try these mighty acts ourselves. Let us rejoice in the fact that no matter what boxes that world may force us into and try to define us by, God has ultimately freed us so that we might take our Christian courage and help free others.

We are not defined by the boxes we have been forced into by society or by ourselves. While we were once in the womb, God has set us apart as one of God’s own. In Christ, we are a new creation. There is no longer Jew or Greek. There is no longer slave or free. There is no longer male or female. We are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, one of God’s own people. We may be gay or straight, black or white, male or female, young or old – or anywhere far and in between – embrace that! – but we cannot let any of it limit our potential of what we can do for God and for others. These are not boxes to trap us inside; rather, these are gifts to be opened and shared and celebrated. The greatest gift of all lies at the very core of our identity: we are all children of God fearfully and wonderfully made, unique and special created in God’s image. That is not a limit. That is a gift of infinite possibility. Thanks be to God. Amen.

—————————————

 

When I Left Our Savior to Die

          “When I Left Our Savior to Die” was given on Good Friday, March 25, 2016 at Lawrence Road Presbyterian Church. Inspirations for this short reflection included Scripture, beginnings & endings, creative storytelling, and one of Jesus’ last words upon the cross: “It is finished.”

—————————————

John 19:30

³⁰ When Jesus had received the wine, he said, “It is finished.” Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

—————————————

I was there. Long, long ago I found myself in the characters of the past. I was there. I was there with Jesus when he walked the roads, and I was there with Jesus when taught his teachings. I was a follower of his ways and a witness to his miracles. I was there with Jesus. But at one point – and I’m not sure when – I left our Savior to die.

Maybe it was when I saw him enter into Jerusalem. You should have seen it. He was a king! I have never seen such glory and honor represented in the flesh as I did that day. All I wanted was to be in his presence; all I wanted was for his face to look upon mine. I spread my cloak on the road. Together with all his followers, we made a path of fabric and richness. Our king deserved nothing less! Our voices joined together as one triumphant cry, “Hosanna! Hosanna! Lord, save us!” But then our king passed by and our voices faltered and failed. Was it then that I left our Savior to die?

 Perhaps it was when I was with him in the garden. I heard his cries to his Father, but I chose to ignore his voice. Instead, I fell asleep while my teacher prayed. I couldn’t stay awake. I was carrying this weight of guilt, and I was tired, oh so tired. I knew my teacher carried a weight much greater than mine, but I just wasn’t as strong. I couldn’t be as strong… You see, I had wronged my teacher. I doubted him with Thomas, I betrayed him with Judas, and I denied him with Peter. I am sorry, my teacher, I just couldn’t stay awake. Was it then that I left our Savior to die?

It could have been the time when I brought him to the Roman officials. I saw him brought before the high priest and the governor, and I saw him through the eyes of Caiaphas and through the eyes of Pilate. I have never been more afraid; I have never been filled with such wrath. That day my fear and frenzy took control. I wanted Jesus to suffer; I wanted Jesus to die! My voice might have been the loudest as we cried, “Crucify him! Crucify him!” I cheered when they took him away. I rejoiced when they nailed him to the cross. I gave thanks when they lifted him high into the air. My God, my God; I am sorry. I am so, so sorry. I will regret those moments for the rest of my life. Was it then that I left our Savior to die?

It must have been when Jesus was on the cross. His sign read, “Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.” I believed those words, but I still sentenced him to die. Tears fell down my face as I cried with the men, women, and children – the cries of “Hosanna!” and “Crucify him!” still echoing in my head. The man I loved was dying. My heart was filled with both compassion and pain. A void was being ripped open. I saw Jesus starve upon that cross; I could see his thirst. I gave him one last drink of wine. His last taste of this earth would be the sour, rotten fruit of the vine as it trickled down his throat. Was it then that I left our Savior to die?

But then Jesus said one last thing upon that cross. Was it a whisper or was it a shout? I could hear his voice around me; I could hear his voice within me. It was the concluding cry of victory. I was there with Jesus when said his final words, “It is finished.” In that moment, I knew it to be true. I knew Jesus was my Savior. When I left our Savior to die, he would come back to me with new and eternal life.

Thanks be to God.  Amen.

—————————————