"He is Not Here, For He is Risen"

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One of the great joys of being a parent is watching your child grow up in a world where anything is possible.  If Mary Katherine wants to be a princess then she runs to her room, picks out the appropriate princess dress, and declares it so.  If she wants her stuffed dog to bark, then she will make him bark—it’s just that simple.  For Mary Katherine, there is not much difference between her world of make believe and the real world.

Inevitably, as Jamie and I watch Mary Katherine grow up, we will watch her be less impressed with the land of make believe.  She will grow up and experience the often harsh reality of life where dreams are crushed and hopes are dimmed.  The stories she dreamed up in the land of make believe will seem more like idle tales.

When the women at the tomb tell the apostles that Jesus is risen from the dead, they do not believe them—their words seem like an idle tale.  Can you blame them?  People only come back from the dead in fairy tales but this is the real world.  When people die, they die—there is no coming back from the dead. (Luke 24:1-12)

There is no doubt that the women at the tomb once thought this too.  After all, they come back to the tomb not because they think they will meet their risen Lord.  Rather, they come back with spices to observe the traditional Jewish customs at burial.  True, they did not meet their risen Lord that morning at least not right away.  They did see something peculiar though—an empty tomb.

Before they could process the empty tomb, two men in dazzling white clothes appear.  The women are terrified and look to the ground.  The messengers speak and say, “Why are you looking for the living among the dead?  He is not here, but has risen.  Remember how he told you the Son of Man will be killed and on the third day rise again.”  And then scripture says, “they remembered his words and told they eleven what they had seen and heard.”

  As you imagine those women who rose early to go to the empty tomb, ask yourself, why do I come back to church week after week?  Maybe you are grieving a great loss like the women who show up at the empty tomb.  Maybe like the women you come out of obligation and not necessarily because you expect to discover something unexpected or awe-inspiring.    

Maybe you come because like the women at the tomb the church is where your friends go too.  At the very least, you get to be with the one’s you love in a sacred place. Or maybe you are more like the apostles and come because someone told you that something special happens here.  But you aren’t going to take their word for it—you are coming to see for yourself.   

Whatever the reason you show up—God has drawn you here.  You are intrigued enough to show up.  There is something about this Jesus guy that you can’t quite get enough of.

One of the most wonderful images of St. Paul’s Church is the Resurrection Angel that appears above the altar.  Above the mosaic are the words, “He is not here, for he is risen.”  Every week, the people of St. Paul’s are reminded of the same words given to the women at the tomb.  He is not here, for he is risen.

A part of me wonders, do these words still amaze us like they amazed the first apostles?  Do these words still call us to our feet where we are compelled run through the church doors to see if it is true?  Do we treat these words as an idle tale or as the eternal truth of God’s Word?

There is a great paradox in these words—He is not here, for he is risen.  When the women come to the tomb they fully expect to find Jesus, a dead Jesus, but nonetheless Jesus.  When we show up in church on Sunday we fully expect to find Jesus too but we are met with the words—He is not here, for he is risen.

The logical question asks, “If Jesus is not here, if Jesus is risen, where is he exactly?”  In the movie Forrest Gump, Lt. Dan asks Forrest, “Have you found Jesus yet?”  Forrest replies, “I didn’t know I was supposed to be looking for him.”  Apparently, the women and the apostles don’t know they are supposed to be looking for Jesus either.

Luke does not say that the women go looking for Jesus.  Instead, they hurry to find the apostles.  Luke does not say that Peter organizes a search party to find Jesus.  Instead, he goes home after he sees what happens.  Luke does go on to say that Jesus appears to the apostles.  Jesus, in fact, finds them even though they aren’t looking for him.  

While it is true that we come to church to be renewed and nourished by the living presence of Christ in Word and Sacrament, it is also true that Jesus does not stay here. Jesus does not stay here because we do not stay here.  We go out into the world carrying the body and blood of Jesus through his Word and Sacrament.  

Through us, the people of God, Jesus is alive in the world outside the tomb, outside the church.  Jesus is alive and searching for the lost and wounded.  Jesus is alive and revealing to a broken world the truth of resurrection life, the truth that God makes all things new.    

Like the women and Peter, our witness to the empty tomb, our witness to the risen Lord, does not leave us standing idle.  Our witness to the immeasurable love of God in Christ does not leave us flat footed.  The kind of love that God shows in Christ is the kind of love that makes it impossible for us to stand still.

So we go into the world with the knowledge that Jesus is risen from the dead and alive in our communities.  We go into the world in the knowledge that Jesus endlessly pursues God’s beloved with a resurrection story.  We go into the world proclaiming a story of hope and life even in the face of death and despair because we know that Christ is risen.  We are witnesses to the risen Lord.

Witnesses of our risen Lord know that any story of death can be turned into a story of life.  Witnesses of our risen Lord believe that compassion and mercy overcome estrangement and guilt.  Witnesses of our risen Lord believe that God’s goodness brings a joy when the good things of this world leave us empty in the end.  

Witnesses of our risen Lord believe that God’s great love opens our eyes to possibilities and joys that hate and anger will never let us see.  Witnesses of our risen Lord live in the knowledge that all the people’s of the world are made of the same blood; witnesses are dead to a world that divides itself based on prejudice.  

Witnesses of our risen Lord know that the first blooms of spring point to the truth that God’s story, our resurrection story in Christ is no idle tale.  The story of Jesus’ death and resurrection is the story of truth.  

At the end of the day, you are witnesses to the incredible love of God as revealed in the risen Lord.  You are witnesses to a never-ending story, a story so filled with love that not even death can kill the hopes and dreams of God.  And God’s hopes and dreams sees a world that is fueled by nothing but love.  

God our Father delights in watching his children learn of and grow into a world where love wins every time.  God our Father delights when his children are not intimidated by the same old story of death and despair.  God our Father delights when his children stand up and say, God is making all things new through his perfect love as revealed in Christ. 

This is the story that I hope Mary Katherine clings to, that our children cling to, that you cling to.  This story takes us to a place beyond the land of make believe.  The story of Jesus risen from the dead is the real world.   Amen. 

"This Ship of Fools is Doomed."

"This Ship of Fools is Doomed"

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The Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ according to John

         I recently recalled a quotation from writer Robert Farrar Capon.  He says, “This ship of fools is doomed.  If the villains don’t wreck it, the heroes will.”    The implication here is that the world or this ship of fools is destined for death no matter who is the captain of the ship.  It could be Captain Hook or Captain Kirk—the ship is going to crash.

            We see the wreckage of this ship of fools clearly in today’s Passion reading.  The main characters on this ship of fools are Judas, Peter, Annas, Caiaphas, the chief priests, the soldiers, Mary, and the beloved disciple.  Jesus is of course here but he is the captain of a different ship.  I’ll get to that ship later.

            Judas is typically defined as the biggest villain of all.  He sold his Lord and Savior out for a small price of 30 coins.  But from a certain perspective Judas might be cast as a hero.  He is tired of waiting.  If Jesus isn’t going to start the political revolution to overthrow Rome’s occupation in Jerusalem, then he will take matters into his own hands.  Have you ever grown impatient with God’s plan and taken matters into your own hands? 

            There in the garden it seems that Peter is set in contrast to Judas.  Peter stands up to evil; he takes a swing at the high priest’s servant.  Peter doesn’t collude with the powers that want Jesus dead.  He fights back.  But Peter hasn’t quite caught on to the fact that Jesus’ weapon is his word and not a sword.

Soon enough, Peter falls from the class of heroes when he denies his Lord and Savior three times.  Would you have done anything different under the circumstances?  Has your desire to do good dissolved in the face of opposition or humiliation or consequences unimaginable? 

Then there is Caiaphas who says, “It is better for one person to die for the people.”  Caiaphas is a good statesman and doesn’t want a messy trial.  He wants to resolve this matter quickly and quietly caring less about justice and more about expediency.  Has your desire to resolve difficult situations quickly and quietly resulted in an even greater tragedy?   

            Pilate tries to be a hero and it appears he does all that he can to save Jesus from death.  But in the end the same part of Pilate that tries to save Jesus is the part that condemns Jesus to die—his desire to be popular.  Has your desire to be popular or simply to be liked clouded your judgment and led to great sin?   

             Then there are the chief priests.  These are the ones who are supposed to be knowledgeable in the law.  But they seem to forget that their allegiance is to God and not the emperor.  They are willing to say just about anything to get rid of Jesus even if that means blackmailing Pilate saying, “you are no friend of the emperor if you release this man.”  Have you ever compromised your beliefs just to get rid of somebody? 

            It is hard to classify the soldiers as either heroes or villains.  They are just doing what they are ordered to do because that is what good soldiers do.  Have you ever blindly followed orders that resulted in you injuring or harming someone?

            And then there is Mary and the beloved disciple.  Clearly these two are begging to jump out of this ship of fools.  But how can they when the captain of the ship they want to be on is going down?  They are stuck riding the stormy waves on the ship of fools.

Mary and the beloved disciple watch their Lord and Savior drown in a pool of blood while they are drowned by their own tears.  I know I don’t have to ask you if your tears have blinded you from seeing that hope is possible.  It is a place of utter despair.

The question for us today isn’t simply which ship do you want to be a passenger on.  I would bet most of us would like to ride on Jesus’ ship.  The question for us today asks, “Are you ready to jump off the ship of fools into the stormy waters and trust that Jesus is going to calm the storm and pick you up?”

Are you tired of riding the storms of life on a ship that is destined to wreck?  Have you had enough of riding on a ship where the heroes and villains are constantly fighting for the wheel?  Are you finished with a world that is tirelessly trying to stay afloat by throwing the villains overboard and by raising up heroes who are, in the end, just as flawed as anybody else? 

            Are you ready to jump yet?  Are you ready to let go of the illusion that the ship of fools will actually take you somewhere important?  Does Jesus’ painful and shameful death on the cross make you see more clearly that the world’s ways are ways that lead to death and destruction?

            Can you see how the impatience of our lives, our dogged determination to be right all the time, our fascination with war and bloodshed, our weakness to stand up for the vulnerable, our inability to experience pain, our desire to be popular, our fickle nature, our blind ignorance.  Can you see how our inability to trust the power of God’s sacrificial love in Christ are all revealed in an ugly way on the cross of Christ?

            Are you ready to breathe your last on this ship and say, “I am finished.”?  The good news is that Jesus is finished with this ship of fools.  Jesus goes ahead of us and does what we are too afraid to do—die to a world whose promises are, in the end, empty.  Jesus goes ahead of us and makes the way of the cross none other than the way of life and peace.  Amen.  

Holy Week and Politics

 Holy Week (the week before Easter) is traditionally the time when Christians remember Jesus’ Passion and Death which is marked by his triumphant entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, Jesus’ commandment to love, the Foot Washing, Judas’ betrayal, Peter’s denial, Jesus’ trial and sentencing before Pilate, and finally Jesus’ death on a cross.

Unlike in previous years, this Holy Week is calling my attention to how Jesus’ Passion and Death impact the political landscape.  While it is not my place or calling to lift up a particular candidate or agenda, I do believe it would be irresponsible of me, as a preacher of the good news, not to talk about how Jesus’ Passion and Death impact the political arena—not only in 1^st century Rome but also today in 21^st century America.

Regardless of what side of the aisle you find yourself on, it is becoming increasingly clear that anxieties about the future of our country are growing out of control. During this season in our national life, it is inevitable that we will be drawn into heated conversations about the future of our national life. However, these conversations are more than heated because we as a people are quick to speak and slow to listen. Therefore, these heated conversations quickly turn into arguments and mudslinging.

According to Speed Leas, an expert on conflict management, we are beyond the point where resolution or even management is possible.  The metric that is used to decide how far is too far in conflict management is called “name calling.”  I am sure I don’t have to convince you that we are there.

In 1^st century Palestine, political tensions were high between the Roman Empire and the Jewish people.  These tensions are highlighted in detail in the scriptures that detail Jesus’ Passion and Death.  In short, the religious freedoms of the Jewish people were growing increasingly limited by Roman occupation.

Jesus finds himself in the middle of this storm between the Jews and the Romans, a storm that could also be characterized as a conflict beyond management.  The good news says that Jesus comes to bring peace.  The bad news says that Jesus brings a peace that will cause a seismic shift in the political, social, and geographical landscape of the world. 

Jesus does not offer peace by settling earthly disputes over land and power.  Instead, Jesus offers peace by inaugurating the kingdom of heaven on earth, a kingdom that is populated by one nation, ruled by one God.  

The way of true peace will see Jesus expose just how fragile and futile earthly attempts at peace really are.  The way of true peace will lure the power hungry on both sides of the aisle to condemn Jesus to death.  Jesus is put to death because pride, hypocrisy, cowardice, and fear put him there.  All of the things that earthly systems depend off of for life put Jesus, the Author of Life, to death. 

Holy Week not only invites Christians to acknowledge how the power hungry systems of this world are quick to kill the One who comes in the name of peace, but Holy Week also invites Christians to witness to how the power of God’s sacrificial love in Christ makes name calling, mudslinging, and bullying look weak.

While our political system might be beyond the point of managing, God gives us a hope that is not of this world, a peace that is not of this world.  There is no doubt this peace will cause great disruption to earthly illusions of peace.  However, the way that God has given us in Jesus is the only way that will move us out our cozy seats on our particular side of the aisle and into the kingdom of heaven, a kingdom ruled by acts of mercy, compassion, justice, and love--all things that call us to speak less and listen more. 

 

  

      

  

    

Crash Landing

Crash Landing

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          Have you ever listened to a sermon thinking, hoping that the preacher was about to wrap it up only to hear the preacher go on again about a completely different subject?  In case you were wondering, the official term for this tactic is called “circling the airport.”  I am especially good at circling the airport at the 7:00 service on Wednesday mornings because I don’t write anything down.

          When I have circled the airport one too many times, I see certain individuals reaching for their prayer books.  This is my cue to prepare for landing and usually the landing is a crash landing but in the end everybody survives. 

          I give you this image because this is how I see Jesus setting up Holy Week.  During the Liturgy of the Palms, we read about Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem.  It isn’t too far of a stretch to understand the scene in today’s lesson like that of one from the Lord of the Rings (Luke 19:28-40).

          From the west comes the imperial power of the land led by Pontius Pilate robed in extravagance and power with an army the stretches to the skyline. And from the east come a rag tag band of rebels led by Jesus who rides into town on a colt.  If Vegas had a line on this, Pilate and his army would be the overwhelming favorites. 

          But Jesus’ rebels remember the story of King David.  They remember how a simple shepherd boy stepped up to Goliath and the Philistines and took Goliath down with the flick of a wrist.  This band of rebels has faith that Jesus is going to do something similar.  After all, Jesus comes from the line of David and from the line of David comes the Messiah.

          Jesus’ band of disciples treat Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem as if they have already won—laying palm branches on the ground and proclaiming, “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord. Peace in heaven and glory in the highest heaven!” 

          But Jesus knows the victory isn’t going to be that easy.  Earlier in Luke’s Gospel, we see Jesus weep over Jerusalem, the city who kills her prophets and stones her messengers.  Jesus knows what is in store for him and Jesus will weep again for Jerusalem.

          While the way of Jesus is the way of peace, this way will not come without a seismic shift in the political, social, and even geographical landscape of the world.  The kind of peace that Jesus brings is a peace that the world does not know.  The kind of peace that Jesus brings will expose just how fragile and how futile our earthly attempts at peace are.

          The only kind of peace that the world knows is temporary.  We wage war, we sign peace treaties, we wage war, we sign peace treaties and the cycle continues.  Our earthly kingdoms do not know true and everlasting peace.  Our earthly kingdoms are lured into believing that earthly leaders or systems can fix the problem.  But the truth remains, the solution to our problems is not of this world, a world that only knows death and destruction.

          Jesus does not offer peace by settling earthly disputes over land and power.  Jesus does not come to take an earthly throne of power.  Instead, Jesus offers peace by inaugurating the kingdom of heaven on earth, a kingdom that is populated by one nation, ruled by one God. 

But Jesus’ first steps toward true peace are steps toward the cross.  His first steps toward peace are steps toward death.  If Jesus’ band of disciples actually believed Jesus’ battle plan included the way of the cross, then they would have fled long ago. 

And soon enough, when they learn the way of the cross, the way to true and lasting peace, they will turn on Jesus.  Soon enough Jesus’ followers will groan because Jesus’ sermon that could have easily ended here on the donkey takes a new direction.  Soon enough these shouts of praise turn into shouts of execution (Luke 23:1-49).  Jesus is circling the airport and preparing for a crash landing.    

          If the peace that Jesus brings is not from this world, then certainly his way to this peace will look strange to this world.  The way of true peace sees Jesus take on the evil powers of this world not with sword and fist but by letting evil do its worst by nailing him to the cross.  Power, pride, hypocrisy, cowardice, and fear put Jesus on the cross—all the things that earthly systems thrive off of for life put Jesus, the Author of Life, to death. 

Station XI by Anne Strand

          The only one who is righteous and blameless is the one who is condemned to death.  The only one who can save this world from death and destruction is destroyed.  The one who displays the merciful love of God on the cross dies like a criminal.  Jesus’ display of other-worldly power moves a Roman centurion to say, “truly this man was innocent.”

          Like the sequence hymn says, our Savior’s song is a love unknown—love to the loveless shown that they might lovely be.  On the cross, the world is shown a love that changes the world—a love not of this world.

          But here we are today, some 2,000 years later, and the same battle is being waged.  It is not a battle between Republicans or Democrats.  It is not a battle between Christians and Jews and Muslims.  It is not a battle between earthly powers of good versus evil.  Instead, it is a battle being waged in the human heart and in the consciousness of our world.  It is the same battle for earthly power driven by pride and cowardice and fear.   

          How long will this world be satisfied with answers that lead to hate and violence and war?  How long will we be satisfied with justifying ourselves by demonizing the other?  How long will our petty disputes blind us from seeing the new world that God is opening up for us through the Passion and Death of Jesus Christ? 

          When will we finally trust that true peace comes from above, true peace comes from the power of God in heaven, a power that knows that evil has nothing on the power of love. 

          In the end, God desires to give us the eyes to see through and beyond the nightmare of this world by giving us the never-ending story of Jesus, by giving us a song of love unknown.  God desires to give us peace that passes all understanding, a peace not of this world, but first we must travel to Jerusalem with Jesus. 

          Today’s story ends with a crash landing and that crash landing might be just the thing needed to expose the world’s false sense of peace and comfort.  That crash landing might be just the thing we need in order for us to trust that God’s way in Jesus is the only way that can make us take off again.

          I invite you this week to go with Jesus again to Jerusalem and remember how God gives a world filled with death and despair the wings to fly by giving us the song of Jesus—a song of love unknown.  Amen.   

Invitation to Holy Week

That's God's Church!

 That's God's Church!

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           One of the big questions being raised by the Church today asks, “Are our places of worship and our maintenance of these historic buildings getting in the way of our ability to reach out in love and concern for the poor?  Are we so consumed with keeping up expensive buildings to the point where we are blinded to the needs of the community?”  

            I ask this because St. Paul’s is dealing with this same question.  As you know, the congregation has spent the better part of the last five years studying what kind of work needs to be done to maintain and preserve our beautiful campus.  And it comes as no surprise that the project will not be cheap.

            I also bring this up because our gospel lesson highlights this same tension (John 12:1-8).  After Mary wastes an expensive bottle of perfume for the anointing of Jesus’ feet, Judas presses Jesus and says, “This perfume should have been sold and the money given to the poor.”  The lesson goes on to tell us that Judas’ agenda was to steal the money for his own end.  In the end, Jesus celebrates the extravagance of Mary’s expression of love because it is that expression of love that will save the poor. 

Mary is modeling the great love of Jesus, a love that goes to the cross for our sake, a love that is spilled out for the salvation of the world, a love that comes at a great price, a love that has the power to satisfy the hunger of every heart. 

            On the surface, the question that Judas raises seems quite rational.  Jesus has basically told his disciples that his father’s kingdom is not something that needs to be conveyed through buildings.  The kingdom that Jesus brings is instead built by acts of kindness and compassion and mercy.  So why not sell our most prized possessions and give the money to the poor?

St. Vincent DePaul once suggested, it is not in the feeding of the poor alone that will save them.  Instead, it is the love that is shared that will bring salvation both to the poor and to the rich.

            At the vestry retreat held in January, we considered “10 questions Jesus would use to evaluate ministry.”  The seventh question asked, “Do we value people over possessions?”  Even more, we asked, “If we were to surrender all of our church possessions, would we still be able to do ministry?”

            As good Episcopalians, the vestry recognized that none of these questions can be answered effectively by simply saying, “yes or no.”  Instead, these questions challenge us to take seriously the main objective of the Church.  Why do we exist?  How do we convey to the community the reason behind why we exist? 

For us today at St. Paul’s, are we having this conversation because we are simply interested in preserving the rich history of Selma and St. Paul’s or are we also having this conversation because we are interested in pointing to the rich story of God, a history that points to extravagant love? 

            As much as I love historic buildings and the beauty they offer to a city, if you as a church community don’t take seriously the second question, then you might as well shut down and turn the keys over to the Historic Preservation Society. 

But if you are serious about engaging in a conversation that wonders how this building can be used to point to the rich story of God’s love, then I believe you are ready to talk about how this parish family can raise money that will see St. Paul’s continue to be a place where the faithful are nourished and strengthened to point to the extravagance of God’s love in the community and the world. 

So the question isn’t simply, “are you ready to engage in a capital campaign that will raise money to preserve this building?”  The question that must drive this conversation asks, “are you willing to continue to convey the beauty and wonder of God’s kingdom, through this historic place, by committing to works of mercy and compassion in a city that is hungry to remember and discover her belovedness?”

I believe that you are, but I want to make sure that you are.  When Rich Webster visited a couple of weeks ago for the Lenten lunch, he made the comment, “these walls are alive.”  He said that he has visited a lot of historic churches and most of them seem hollow and dusty.  But he said, “St. Paul’s is alive.”

There is no doubt in my mind that God wants St. Paul’s to stay alive because St. Paul’s has a rich history of conveying the wonder of God’s love to Selma.  And I believe God is not finished using St. Paul’s to convey the compassion and love of God to Selma and the world.  The harvest is plentiful.

I hope you hear me saying that this preservation project should not be a means to an end.  Rather, this project should be about recognizing how God is continuing his mission of love and mercy through the people who gather to worship at this church.  This project should be about how God intends to use this place, a place that oozes with the lavishness of God’s love, to send her people out into the community and world to live with an extravagant love.

Even more, this project should not excuse our ministry to the poor.  Many have misinterpreted the words of Jesus in this passage as a license to not have to minister to the poor.   Many have said, “well the poor will always be with us, there is nothing we can do so let’s build a beautiful building instead.”  Jesus is not being mutually exclusive here.

Instead, Jesus is saying that our worship of him will magnify his intention to send us out into the world to serve the poor and lonely.  Our worship of Jesus will intensify our desire to walk among the poor and share the good news of God’s kingdom.  After all, when we worship Jesus, we worship the one who became poor so that all might become rich with the goodness of God’s grace.

I want to end with an image that many of you have heard me talk about.  About six months ago, Mary Katherine made the statement, “I want to go to Joyce’s church.”  This is natural because, well, Joyce, our Parish Administrator, is always at church when Mary Katherine visits after school. 

And being the good priest and father that I like to think I am, I said, “actually it is God’s Church.”  After a few lessons, she started to understand and she would say, “I want to go to God’s Church.”  I was beaming with pride.  My daughter gets it!

One morning, as Mary Katherine anticipated her arrival at Little Friends, she looked out the window and commented on the other churches saying, “that’s not God’s church, that’s not God’s church, that’s not God’s church.”  When we pulled up in front of St. Paul’s, she exclaimed, “That’s God’s Church!”  While a part of me was proud, I knew it was time to give another lesson on ecclesiology.   

In the end, this project that we are talking about should not be understood as our preservation project.  This project isn’t about preserving Joyce’s church.  This project isn’t about preserving your ancestor’s church. 

Instead, this conversation is about continuing God’s salvation project.  This conversation asks, “how is God calling St. Paul’s continue in the same salvation project that our ancestors have been a part of?”  Jesus says more than once, “those who want to save their life with lose it and those who lose their life for the sake of the gospel will save it.”  In all that we do, I hope that we are willing to lose our life for the sake of the gospel.

At the end of the day, God’s mission to touch the world with the lavish love of Jesus will continue with or without St. Paul’s.  However, I am convinced that God is not done with St. Paul’s.  God’s has made us rich in so many ways and through the witness of Mary we have an incredible opportunity to, from the world’s point of view, waste our riches so that the community and world may know the extravagance of God’s love.  Amen.  

"Grace Only Works on the Dead"

"Grace Only Works on the Dead"

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       Do you remember sitting in class in middle school when the principal came over the PA system asking the following students come to the office?  And in true liturgical fashion the immediate response of the rest of the class was, “ohhhhh!” 

          Well, I was one of the students that the principal asked to come to the office.  I was in seventh grade and got in trouble with my English teacher Ms. Beenkin.  Because I know that my sin is absolved I am not going to tell you juicy details of the transgression.  However, I would like to reflect for a moment on that experience.

          When I returned to class the next day, Ms. Beenkin called me and my friend George to the front of the class.  We walked to the front with our heads held in shame.  We just knew that we were going to hear it, again.  I had already gotten the “I am not mad just disappointed” talk from my father.  What else could Ms. Beenkin say to make me feel any worse?

          But what happened next was probably the strangest and yet most wonderful thing I ever experienced in middle school.  Ms. Beenkin presented George and me with a gift.  She thanked us for being honest with our confession and told us that what we had done didn’t make her think any less of us. 

          Meanwhile, the girl who had ratted us out sat in the back of the roomed and steamed with anger.  I remember her talking to her friends like Ms. Beenkin was crazy—and quite frankly I thought it was crazy too.  She just couldn’t believe that George and I were being celebrated given the fact that we had messed up big time. 

          At the time, I had always thought Ms. Beenkin was a little strange and other wordily and this moment only confirmed that.  But now I realize that Ms. Beenkin knew what it meant to be a Christian, which would probably account for why I thought she was strange and other worldly. 

          Simply put, Ms. Beenkin knew about grace.  As Christians, we proclaim a story that drips with grace, a story that that has nothing to do with our righteousness and everything to do with the righteousness of God.  Everything about our identity is completely and utterly dependent on the grace of God. 

And to a lot of people grace looks strange.  It looks unfair.  Grace doesn’t make any sense to a world that is obsessed with who is right and who is wrong, a world that is obsessed with distinguishing between the deserving and undeserving.   

Perhaps the most outlandish statement on the grace of God is revealed in the story of the prodigal son (Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32).  As you can see, the story of the prodigal son ends with a big party.  And the party isn’t thrown for the guy who has the most awards.  There isn’t a MC who reads a two page introduction listing the accomplishments of the guest of honor. 

Instead, the only introduction that we get about the guest of honor includes an account about how he squanders his inheritance on loose living.  The guest of honor was once someone who was reduced to only dreaming about eating the same scraps of food as the pigs.  The guest of honor is pushed to the point where he comes crawling back to his father with his head held in shame.

The prodigal finally falls at the feat of his father and says, “I am no longer worthy to be called your son.”  And the father does something even stranger than Ms. Beenkin did.  The father calls for the servants to put the finest cloths on his son and announces that he is going to throw a party.  He is going to kill his prized possession, the fated calf for the occasion.  The father wants to celebrate because the son of his who was dead is alive again.

Meanwhile, the elder son steams with rage in the corner much like the girl who told on me in the seventh grade.  It just doesn’t make any sense, he thought.  He is the one who is good and upright.  He is the one who stayed back at home to help his father on the farm.  He is the one who deserves the party—not his ne’er do-well younger brother!

Robert Capon, prolific writer on the subject of grace, says, “Grace can’t work on the living.”  In other words, grace does not work on those who depend on their own righteousness for life.  Grace does not work on those who are set on separating the world into those who are deserving and those who are undeserving. 

Capon says, “grace only works on the dead.”  In other words, grace only works on those who have breathed their last breath of believing that they can bargain their way into new life by making up for their sins with good works.  Even more, grace only works on those who die to the illusion that the world can be saved by the most righteous of people. 

Capon also says, “God has decided that history cannot be saved even by its best…This ship of fools is doomed: if the villains don’t wreck it, the heroes will.”  In other words, grace is the only thing that will save this ship of fools because either way our proverbial ships are going to wreck and leave us for dead.  The quicker we realize that we, the righteous and the unrighteous, the sinners and the saints, are bound for death, the quicker we can realize that grace is the only vehicle that can lead us to new life.    

In the column I wrote this week for the Selma Times Journal, I began by asking what might seem like a pretty elementary question especially for church people.  I asked, “What is a Christian?”  I don’t ask this question theoretically, but instead I ask this question in an environment where so many Christians are, to be blunt, down right rude and mean and nasty. 

We live in an environment where many Christians look like the elder son.  Many Christians use their righteousness as a weapon against the unrighteous.  We live in this environment because the message of grace is simply not trusted by so many Christians—the very people who are supposed to trust the message of grace don’t.

When I think about the Christians in my life who have made the biggest impact on me, I don’t think about the person who made it to every Bible study, I don’t think about the person who saved themselves for marriage, I don’t think about the person who lived a sinless life.  Instead, I think about the people who modeled grace.

I think about Ms. Beenkin my strange and wonderful seventh grade English teacher.  I think about my chaplain in college, Ken Fields.  While he was far from perfect, he embodied grace for college students in ways that were lifesaving.  I think about all the people who trusted the message of grace enough to convey that outlandish message to a lost and broken world, a world that is tired of the self-righteous beating up on the unrighteous. 

Believe me, grace is not something we simply fall into one Sunday morning.  Grace is something we grow into.  A life of grace is a life that we dip our fingers into through the waters of baptism.  A life of grace is a life spent kneeling before the altar to confess our sins.  A life of grace is a life spent remembering that God’s posture of love towards us never changes no matter how often we fall to our knees. 

A life of grace is remembered and consumed when we gather around the Lord’s Table each Sunday to eat and drink the food that our heavenly Father has prepared for us from the beginning of time and forever, a food that is provided because our heavenly Father was willing to kill his most prized possession so that we might keep the feast. 

Ultimately, a life of grace is about coming back again and again to the font and the table so that we are drowned and consumed in the goodness and mercy of God.  A life of grace is marked by our willingness to die to the life that we think we should be living, die to the life that we think the world should be living, so that we might be reborn into the life that God has already prepared for us, a life that works because of a God who has nothing but love for his people.

As Christians our entire story hinges on the grace of God.  Our story doesn’t hinge on morality.  Our story doesn’t hinge being the best Christian we can be.  Our story hinges on crawling back to God.  Our story hinges on God’s word of mercy to a lost and sinful world.  And our lives as Christians is marked by conveying the message of grace to both to the righteous and unrighteous.   

I know what some of you are thinking.  But doesn’t grace just get cheapened if we just go right back into the world and sin again.  Doesn’t grace get cheapened if that person who we keep trying to convey grace to goes right back to sinning. I am sorry to all you Bonhoeffer fans but there is no such thing as cheap grace.

And let’s face it, sin isn’t really all it is cracked up to be.  In the long run, sin really isn’t that much fun.  It might be tempting at first but sin always leaves you sick and as good as dead in the end.  And if you still think there is such a thing as cheap grace, then I say to you, “you must not be sinning hard enough.”

God’s grace doesn’t count the number of times you come crawling back to God.  God’s grace will let you sin as much as you want until you are ready to pronounce yourself dead.  And that’s just it.  Grace only works if you are ready to pronounce yourself dead.   

Grace works on the father because he is dead.  He dies when he gives his son the inheritance he is supposed to give after he is in the grave.  Grace works on the younger son because he is dead.  He dies when he says to his father, “I am no longer worthy to be called your son.”

So I say to you this morning—are you willing to die yet?  Are you willing to die to a world that says only a few deserve to sit at the table with Jesus?  Are you ready to breathe your last breath in a life that hinges being a better Christian or even a better person?  Are you done with a world that is set on drawing lines between who is in and who is out? 

Are you finally ready to join the feast that our heavenly Father keeps for all, a feast that celebrates the son who was lost and is now found, a feast that celebrates that son who was dead and is now alive?