Sermon 27 March 2016 John 20:1-18 Year C

         Have you noticed we’re never told in the Bible exactly how the resurrection happened? No human witness was there at the actual moment, as far as we know. Nor do we ever know exactly what it was about the resurrected Jesus that was different. The part we do get is that neither the disciples nor Mary Magdalene really expected the resurrection to happen. They’d been with Jesus all that time. He’d spoken about his death and resurrection time after time, yet they were not prepared for the empty tomb. And, they certainly were not prepared for the risen Christ.

         They were astonished and amazed, but they were amazed Jesus’ body was missing. John’s gospel says when Mary Magdalene found the stone rolled away she ran for Simon Peter and another disciple. She ran, not because she thought Jesus had been resurrected, but because she did not know where his body had been taken. And when Peter and the other disciple got to the tomb, the other disciple saw and believed, yet he still did not understand that Jesus must rise from the dead.

         What was going on? Faulty memories? Forgetfulness caused by stress from the many events of the previous week? Forgetting what Jesus said about his own death and resurrection? Maybe. But maybe it’s more than that. Maybe it’s that we don’t quite believe the resurrection either because it’s too big for us, or too foreign, or too far outside our experience. Maybe it’s easier to believe in something if it’s related to what we’ve known before, and the resurrection is unrelated to anything we’ve known before. Instead, the resurrection means God has created an entirely new reality. Because if people don’t stay dead, what can you count on? The idea that it’s possible to escape death changes everything. Resurrection breaks all the rules of what we know.

         What happened to Mary Magdalene on that glorious morning of the Resurrection was hearing Jesus call her by name. Jesus calls each of us by name and it is in hearing our name that we see the presence of the resurrected Christ. It is in hearing our name that we know the presence of Jesus and we remember he is risen. Just as Mary did, we respond with our lips, our hearts, and our hands. Mary recognized Jesus when he called her by name. She responded with her lips and her response awakened her heart to Jesus. And then she responded with her body, with her hands, her heart, and her lips, by announcing to the other disciples, “I have seen the Lord.” Mary responded to the presence of the risen Christ with lips and heart and hands.

         I’d like to tell you a story about the presence of the resurrected Christ. Some years ago, a family I knew was vacationing at their cabin in the woods. Sunday morning, the family piled into the car and drove to town to the Episcopal Church. The whole family knelt at the communion rail, including the four-year-old granddaughter of the family patriarch.

This little girl had been receiving communion since she was able to put her little hands up. But the priest was a stranger and didn’t know that about her. He gave a wafer to the little girl’s father, saying, “The Body of Christ, the Bread of Heaven.” He skipped over the little girl and gave a wafer to her mother, saying the same words. Then he came back to the little girl and reached out his hand to give her a blessing rather than Communion. The little girl looked up at him, tapped her finger in her palm, and said loudly, “Hey! Body of Christ, right here!”

         Now there is a child who gets it. The real presence of Christ, in all his resurrected glory, is available to her every week and every day, no matter whether she is struggling to believe in the resurrection or not.

         So I wonder if we could do something this morning for all of us who struggle from time to time with the power of the resurrection. Because, as scientists and behaviorists will tell you, when we engage more of ourselves than just the mind, we invite belief to enter. And, when we do things together we support one another in our belief.

So I invite you this morning to do this with me. Hold out one hand, and as you tap the other hand, repeat with me, “Body of Christ, right here.”

         Now take your hand and tap your heart, and repeat with me, “Body of Christ, right here.”

And finally, tap your lips, and repeat with me, “Body of Christ, right here.”

Hands, hearts, and lips. This is the way our belief in the resurrection grows. Belief can be thought about with the head, and knowledge is a powerful thing, but belief in Christ uses three other things as well: the hands, the heart, and the lips.

Through knowing the real presence of Christ we are given the power to be the hands of Christ in the world. Through receiving the real presence of Christ we are given the strength to use our hearts to reach others with the heart of Christ. And through receiving the real presence of Christ our lips are given the words to speak Christ to the world.

Hands, heart and lips. What we do with our hands, who we reach with our hearts, and what we say with our lips, all say, “Body of Christ. Right here.” This is the resurrected Christ made real. ALLELUIA!  CHRIST IS RISEN!

The Rev Nicolette Papanek

©2016

Sermon 25 March 2016 John 18:1-19:42 Year C

There is a sense for me that while much of what we do in the church is dramatic and wonderful and surprising, we can fall into doing it by rote. Although we have the riches of the Book of Common Prayer and many other options, we can get in the habit of doing things the same way year after year. The days during Holy Week can be that way because often it seems as though we are “paying our dues”. It’s a way of saying, “Yeah, yeah, I know Jesus died for my sins. So to get to Easter I have to pay the price of going through these long readings and hearing a story I already know.” Some of us would like to skip Maundy Thursday and Good Friday because they’re such downers anyway. Perhaps the grace of Holy Week is since we only do these things once a year, even a priest can forget “the way we always do it.”

         If you are a little tired of this yearly routine, I have some suggestions to bring back both a little healthy realism and the drama of Holy Week back into your life. I suggest you talk to a child, a teenager, or a new Christian. Their perspective is totally different.

I’m reminded of the drama that occurred with a four-year old in another parish, another year. As the mother explained the story of Jesus’ crucifixion the child listened quietly, hearing it for the first time. But when Mommy told her about the crucifixion, she sobbed out, “No, no, Mommy! Jesus was good!”

         That is the kind of immediacy and drama I would pray for all of us of on Good Friday. I think it has much less to do with getting the details right and more to do with entering fully into the story. I believe putting ourselves in the story has far more to do with the immediacy of the story to a child. It has most to do with hearing the story as though we are hearing it for the first time. Fresh, new, and shocking, all its drama is revealed before us: that God who became flesh died a horrible and unjust death. And, that we recognize that though it may play as drama, it is stunningly real.

         And imagination and wonder, I believe, are the keys to this for us. As adults, our imaginations are sometimes a little rusty and seldom used. I’m inviting you to blow the dust off your imagination. I’m inviting you to imagine yourself with Jesus. There in Jerusalem: smelling the smells, tasting the bread and drinking the wine at the last supper, touching the ground with your dusty bare feet, hearing the yells of the crowd, and knowing you were present at the events.

         Who is Jesus to you? Who are you on this day? Who are you on this day that begins in triumph and ends in despair? How immediate is this part of our salvation story to you?

You and I were there. You and I found the colt for Jesus to ride. You and I waved branches. We threw down our cloaks on the ground and yelled “Hosanna!” We took the bread from Jesus’ hand and then went out to betray him. And we argued over which of us was the greatest.

         We waited in the Garden while Jesus prayed and we fell asleep. We kissed Jesus before we betrayed him. We greeted violence with violence when Jesus was arrested. And we denied Jesus when someone asked if we knew Him.

         We mocked. We jeered. We waited on the road to see Jesus pass by. We heard the nails being pounded. We saw Jesus hanging in agony on the cross. We heard him say, “It is finished” and saw him give up his spirit.

         And when this day ends, we sit in darkness by the tomb. We sit in darkness holding Jesus in our hearts. We wait to see when light will come. We wait to see when his grave will break open and light and love pour out on Easter day. AMEN.

The Rev Nicolette Papanek

©2016

Sermon 20 March 2016 Palm/Passion Sunday Matthew Passion Gospel Year C

         We’ve just heard what is probably the lengthiest Gospel reading of the year. I’m always a bit surprised people don’t slip out for a cup of coffee or suddenly remember they need to check their tires or change their baby. It’s easy to let our attention wander, especially when we’re hearing a story we know so well. I’m as guilty of it as anyone. Despite participating in the Gospel reading, I sometimes find myself thinking about the rest of Holy Week, or what will happen Easter Sunday, or other details. I’ve been blessed though, that each year I’ve received a gift of one thing that has stood out for me that recalls the Passion of Jesus. Some times it’s a material thing, often it’s a quote, a poem, or what someone has said to me. A couple of years ago it was Honey Maid Graham Crackers.

         You may not even like graham crackers, nor may you care about a calculated and clever ad campaign on the part of the company that owns the Honey Maid brand.[1] Some of you may remember this story. It certainly had plenty of media play in 2014. The gist of the story is this. Honey Maid Graham Crackers decided to run ads about the wholesomeness of their product. The ad campaign was called, “This is Wholesome.” To demonstrate wholesomeness, the ads showed various parents and children enjoying graham crackers. Among the people shown are a biracial couple, a gay couple, and a single male parent. The ads released a backlash among people who opposed same-sex or biracial marriage, or both.

         In yet another calculated move, Honey Maid decided to respond by embracing the issues via social media. In the first couple of weeks after it ran, their social media response, which you can still watch on YouTube, had more than 1.5 million hits or views on Facebook.[2]  Honey Maid responded, of course, because they are knowledgeable enough to know that a large part of their customer base is exactly what they portrayed in the advertisements.

The company hired a pair of artists to do something with the negative responses to the ads. The artists rolled the printed complaints into tubes and glued the upright tubes together to spell the word “love.” And it appears on the ad as though once that was done, the artists walked away. But the voice-over tells you that Honey Maid received more than ten times as many positive comments as negative. As the camera slowly pans away, you see the negative responses are totally surrounded by the positive comments.

Andrew Solomon, in his article in the New Yorker online wrote, “The first half turns hatred into love, the second half provides evidence of love itself.”[3]

I think that’s precisely what we need to take away from the Passion Story of Jesus. The first half – the story we heard just now, is the story of hatred turned into love.

Today we heard the story of Jesus turning hatred into love by giving himself up to death on the cross. This story of hatred turned into love on the cross, is for us to hear and absorb today and in Holy Week, before we get to the second half. We tend to rush the second half of the story in our anxiety to have a better ending. If we rush to the ending, we miss what occurs on Jesus’ journey to the cross: the deep and compelling evidence of love. Be patient. Be watchful. Evidence of the love itself surrounding and outweighing the suffering and death comes at Easter. AMEN.

The Rev Nicolette Papanek

©2016

---

[1]http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/currency/2014/04/honey-maid-and-the-business-of-love.html

[2] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cBC-pRFt9OM

[3] Solomon, Andrew. The New Yorker, April 5, 2014. Accessed 13 April 2014.

Sermon 13 March 2016 John 12:1-8 Lent V Year C

            You know the question: If you could have anyone, living or dead, at your dinner table, who would it be? So what about the two guys in today’s gospel: A guy who’s been brought back to life, and a guy who’s on his way to die? Don’t you imagine the conversation must have been interesting? It’s a pity none of the Gospel writers recorded what else they talked about that night. But then, maybe they talked about ordinary things: the good food, Martha’s pretty dishes, Mary’s new hairdo, and even the weather. It’s possible the gospel writer gave us what we have because it was the only important part of the whole meal.

         What John’s gospel gives us is the interruption to the meal rather than the meal itself. The event reminds me of what a boss of mine used to say when anyone would complain about customers interrupting our job. He’d always retort, “Those interruptions are your job!” And so Mary’s interruption of Jesus’ dinner was the job. It was the most important act at a relatively unimportant dinner. It was an act of supreme understanding of the nature of God.

Jesus began his ministry with a lavish and extravagant act: turning water into wine at the wedding at Cana. In the second chapter of the Gospel of John, Jesus declares his public ministry in this act of extravagant generosity. Jesus turned water into wine, and not just any wine, but the best wine in an amount so great it was contained in jars that normally hold water for washing and quenching thirst. The beginning of Jesus’ ministry was marked by lavish and extravagant generosity.

 Now, Mary marks the ending of Jesus’ ministry on earth by her lavish and extravagant generosity in anointing Jesus. Everything she does shows she understands what Jesus has taught.

Mary defies convention. She lets down her hair; something no well-behaved Jewish maiden would do in front of a group of men. Mary knows Jesus calls us to love and act and in lavish and extravagant ways that have nothing to do with the expected or ordinary. Mary understands.

Mary touches Jesus. Jesus in his ministry touched the untouchable and embraced those whom no else would embrace. A single woman would not touch a single man to whom she was not related; yet she touches Jesus. Mary understands.

Mary anoints Jesus’ feet. Jesus has demonstrated throughout his ministry that he is neither a king of might nor of military power. Mary demonstrates her understanding by anointing Jesus’ feet rather than his head. A king would be anointed on his head; a corpse would be anointed on his feet. Mary understands.

Finally, Mary empties the jar of costly perfume on Jesus’ feet. The perfume was so costly that it was worth three hundred days of hard labor. Mary uses an entire pound of shockingly expensive perfume and fills the whole house with its fragrance. She demonstrates the lavish and extravagant God who turns water into wine, feeds a crowd with a few fish and a couple of loaves, and pours himself out for all humanity. Mary understands.

Mary understands the most lavish, extravagant and yes, shocking, thing of all. That God’s extravagance became real in the flesh of Jesus. That God became flesh and then poured out that flesh for us. That God is a God who loves us freely, lavishly, extravagantly; without counting the cost and without hesitation.

I know you have all experienced ways in which God has loved you freely, lavishly, extravagantly, without counting the cost and without hesitation. So as our final thoughts to add to our banner for Palm Sunday, please pick up one of the pieces of paper and a marker from the aisle end of your pew, and put that love and blessing on paper. You can write it, or draw it. It doesn’t have to mean anything except to you. Just think of when God loved you this way: freely, lavishly, extravagantly, without counting the cost, and without hesitation. When has God anointed you with love the way Mary anointed Jesus?

Take a moment to put that on the paper. Then when the offering plate comes by, along with your regular offering, add your piece of paper with God’s love for you on it. We’ll add all of our drawings and writings to our banner so we can carry it on Palm Sunday. AMEN.

The Rev Nicolette Papanek

©2016