“Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he has risen.”

This is it, right here, at the heart of Christian hope and proclamation: the tomb is empty.

It’s a message that was at first kept silent out of fear; and then disbelieved and dismissed; and then, vigorously fought, and sought to be disproven; and then… it rolled out across the world like a kind of glorious high tide that caused every heart that embraced it to overflow with joy:

The tomb is empty. Why do you search for the living among the dead?

Image: Resurrection of Christ, mosaic, Church of Saint Sebastian, Porto Alegre, Brazil, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56588 [retrieved February 26, 2022]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:0000_Mosaics_of_Resurrection_of_Christ.JPG - Eugenio Hansen, OFS.

“Remember me.”

Every month we gather around the communion table. The table is always there, present, and visible to us. But once a month when we walk into our sanctuary, we see that the table has been set for us. A meal has been prepared. It is the Lord’s table. We do what we do here, in memory of Jesus…

Swanson, John August. Last Supper, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56552 [retrieved April 12, 2022]. Original source: www.JohnAugustSwanson.com - copyright 2009 by John August Swanson. Used with permission.

Roughly three hundred years before the events we read about today, someone writing under the name of the prophet Zechariah said it all:

Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion!
Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem!
Lo, your king comes to you…

Image: Hochhalter, Cara B.. Palm Sunday: Even the Stones, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=59018 [retrieved February 26, 2022]. Original source: Cara B. Hochhalter, A Challenging Peace in the Life and Stories of Jesus, 2019.

…As of this week, the estimated number of refugees from the war in Ukraine has risen to nearly four million. Terrified people, running for their lives, leaving a home they love, looking for safety.

Our passage tonight brings us into the dreams of a refugee dad…

Image: La Tour, Georges du Mesnil de, 1593-1652. The Angel Visiting Joseph in a Dream, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=46742 [retrieved February 26, 2022]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Georges_de_La_Tour_022.jpg.

Some gospel stories are one of a kind: they can be found in a single gospel only, and they reveal some unique characteristics of that gospel’s approach to the Jesus event. The parable of the Prodigal Son, appearing only in Luke’s gospel, is one of them. The parable of the sheep and the goats, appearing in Matthew’s gospel alone, is another.

But there are other stories that appear in all four gospels, and these are the essential stories about Jesus, the heart of the gospel witness. They are not identical, they each come with their own slant, with their own priorities for the faithful. The story of the feeding of the multitudes is one: that moment of abundance, of care for an entire community is core to our understanding of Jesus. This story, the story of Jesus’ anointing, is another. There is something so essential to be found in this story, we find it in all four gospels. They have differences, to be sure. They are not identical in the details or even the purpose of the action. But this moment, the moment when a woman anoints Jesus before many witnesses, is a gospel essential.

Image: Sandys, Frederick, 1829-1904. Mary Magdalene (or Mary of Bethany), from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=55422 [retrieved February 26, 2022]. Original source: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Mariya_Magdalena.jpg.

… The title or superscription in our bibles describes Psalm 63 as taking place in the Judean wilderness. It is not much changed there from the time this psalm was written down, or the time when Jesus wandered there and was tempted a thousand or so years later—it is all rock, and rocky hills and mountains, and mostly dry wadis, with only three to six inches of rain a year. The writer of this psalm knows thirst, mouth-parching, eyeball scratching, bone-rattling, headache-producing thirst.

But desert-related thirst is not the only thing this psalm is about. It is about other kinds of thirst, too—it opens with a statement of longing that is physical in its description of something spiritual…

Image: Vincent van Gogh, Vincent’s bedroom in Arles (1889), Public Domain, courtesy of Wikiart.org.

I have three questions about the parable. They are completely unanswerable, but I’m going to ask them anyway.

First, why did the younger son leave? The story doesn’t begin with a fight, or a misunderstanding, or any word at all about relationships in the household… but then again, parables don’t usually give us these kinds of details. But I’m curious! Why did this young man need to leave a household that provided comfort, and safety, and decide he wanted “his share” of his father’s estate. What was going on inside his head and rattling around his heart? Was he angry about something? Was he hurt? Was he already lost, but lost-in-place? Did it seem better to leave than to say out loud why he couldn’t bear to stay?

Image: Prodigal Son, 20th century wood carving from Paszym, Poland, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=55322 [retrieved February 26, 2022]. Original source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/feargal/5096170709 - CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

Who is wrestling with Jacob? Is it a man? Is it, as some have proposed, his brother, come under the cover of darkness, and disguised—as Jacob himself was disguised to steal the blessing? Is it God, coming this time not with a beautiful dream of heavenly messengers, but as a challenger, ominous and threatening? Or is Jacob, perhaps, wrestling with himself—with the circuitous journey he has taken, with its steps and missteps, its honesty and treachery, its love and hate and the fear that makes him run?

Image: Marc Chagall, Jacob’s Ladder (1973), Fair Use, courtesy of Wikiart.org.

… Jesus uses that word, “Repent,” and to most of us that’s a term that goes hand in hand with fire-and-brimstone messages about… the terrible things that could happen to us if God is actually vengeful, if we don’t get our act together.

But that word means something more subtle, and more beautiful. The Greek word is “metanoia.” It means, literally, turn around. One good definition is “a transformative change of heart.” And I don’t think Jesus is actually contradicting himself, when he tells the people to transform their hearts and lives. He’s not threatening them with hell. He’s reminding them of the consequences when a society or its leaders embrace violence and carelessness…

Image: The Gardener and the Fig Tree, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=54307 [retrieved February 26, 2022]. Original source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/feargal/3923006489/.

Welcome to Bedtime Stories, moments in scripture that reveal a God whose is with us always, and whose work sometimes takes place when it’s time for the lamps to be extinguished. Bedtime.

Once upon a time, there was a boy named Samuel. Scripture tells us the story of his very beginnings, of his mother, Hannah, who longed for a baby and cried bitterly to God about the delay. But when we meet him, Samuel doesn’t live with his mother anymore. After Samuel was born, Hannah decided to dedicate him to God, and when he was 3 or 4 years old, he went to serve at the temple in Shiloh, under the mentorship of Eli, an elderly priest, who was not very good at his job…

Image: David Wilkie, Samuel in the Temple (1839), Public Domain, courtesy of Wikiart.org.

[We interrupt this meditation for a message about Pharisees. Despite what most of us have been taught for most of our lives, despite some harsh words about them in the gospels themselves, Pharisees are not the bad guys in the Jesus story. There’s decent evidence right in the gospels that Jesus embraced most of what Pharisees stood for, including: belief in one God; belief in the divine inspiration of scripture, and in the resurrection of the dead, and in the sacredness of everyday life, not just what goes on in the Temple. Like Jesus, Pharisees believed that holy things ought to be in the hands of regular people rather than reserved for those in the Temple priesthood. Like Jesus, Pharisees believed that God so loved the world that God gave us everything we needed in order to find eternal life. And all those arguments Jesus seems to have with Pharisees? That was typical of the debates Pharisees carried on with one another. They believed that through debate, they could arrive at the truth. Here ends the message about Pharisees, who were not the bad guys. Case in point: here, they are trying to save Jesus’ life.]

Image: Everett, Trey. Under Her Wings, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=57825 [retrieved February 26, 2022]. Original source: www.treyeverettcreates.com.

We find the word “devil” in the New Revised Standard Version of New Testament 35 times; we find the word “satan” 33 times. The words carry slightly different meanings. “Satan” is a Hebrew word meaning, “tempter.” It’s something like the phrase “devil’s advocate,” someone who’s trying to poke at you and prod you and find your weaknesses.

“Devil,” on the other hand, means, literally, someone who throws stuff into a situation, throws stuff at you—stuff, undefined. Think, agent of chaos.

And that is what he does here, to Jesus, presumably still filled with the Holy Spirit, but no doubt, exhausted and frayed by weeks without food and minimal water…

Image: Rivière, Briton, 1840-1920. Temptation in the Wilderness, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56821 [retrieved February 26, 2022]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Briton_Rivi%C3%A8re_-_The_Temptation_in_the_Wilderness.jpg.

Sometimes our lives of faith seem to send us mixed signals.

Take Ash Wednesday, for example. A few minutes ago Cathie read for us from the gospel of Matthew, the same passage that is appointed for Ash Wednesday every year. Its strong emphasis is, don’t flaunt your faith. Don’t stand in front of everybody virtue-signaling—letting them know how good and pious you are, because, if you do—well, your reward is that people noticed how good and pious you are, and that feeling, as we know, is fleeting. So, keep your faith quiet, Jesus says. Avoid ostentatious displays.

But in a minute I’m going to invite you all to come forward so that I can smudge some ashes in a cross on your head, a sign that could possibly have other people nodding to you in affirmation of your shared Ash-Wednesday values when you run to Price Chopper on your way home. Or, conversely, that sign could also prompt some other kind-hearted person to pull you aside in the Price Chopper to say, “You have some… schmutz on your head, here, have a Kleenex.” This day, this ashy tradition, is saying, Wear your faith on your forehead, please.

Mixed signals…

…Today’s passage begins with normalcy—Jesus takes three of his followers on a hike up a mountain to pray. Jesus prays, and talks about prayer, a lot in the gospel of Luke—he’s always trying to get away from the crowds to replenish himself, to re-connect with the Spirit. As I heard once, from a wise woman, “You can’t pour from an empty bucket.” Today, Jesus takes Peter (also known as Simon), and the brothers John and James. These three seem to form an inner circle: the people Jesus is closest to.

Very quickly, it’s clear that things are not normal at all.

Image: Hartman, Craig W.. Cathedral of Christ the Light, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=54202 [retrieved January 7, 2022]. Original source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/sicarr/3251258111/.

This passage almost feels like a combination of Jesus’ greatest hits combined with the things he’s said that no one wants to hear. Many statements we find here are well-known, and are among the most-quoted words of Jesus. And everything here, from what sounds the easiest to what we could consider the most challenging, falls under the heading of “love.”

Image: Detail, Supuni, Amos. Reconciliation, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=57340 [retrieved January 7, 2022]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Reconciliation_Amos_Supuni_Woerden.jpg.

This gospel lets us know, from the beginning, that Jesus’ place is with the poor—from Mary’s song to Jesus’ reading from Isaiah to this moment when Jesus and the disciples stand, not away from the people, not above the people, but with them, on a level place. The people have come to be near him because they are all struggling—they want to be healed, they want Jesus to cast out the demons that torture them. They are trying to touch Jesus, to receive that power that emanates from him. And Jesus’ actions show us; this is what he chooses, throughout this gospel, the definition of the incarnation: To be on a level place with the people, to be one of them. Near enough to touch. Right there with those who are struggling.

Jesus addresses his disciples and the crowds with words that are familiar, yet different. Jesus speaks both “blessings” and “woes.” What does this mean? Is Jesus dividing the people up? Is this a sheep-and-goats situation? Or is there something else going on? [Spoiler alert: THERE IS SOMETHING ELSE GOING ON.]

Image: JESUS MAFA. The Sermon on the Mount, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=48284 [retrieved January 7, 2022]. Original source: http://www.librairie-emmanuel.fr (contact page: https://www.librairie-emmanuel.fr/contact).

… Whether we are talking about God almighty in the smoky temple, or the man Jesus who seems very clearly to have just bent nature to his will, the Lord has called to each of these children of God. Isaiah, come, be my prophet. Simon, come, follow me.

And each man’s gut reaction is No.

No. I am not worthy.

No. I am sinful, with unclean lips.

No. I am afraid.

No. How could I possibly do that?

Image: Anonymous. Christ Calling the First Disciples, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56123 [retrieved January 7, 2022]. Original source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:CandelariaChurchjf1988_08.JPG.

What happens when your gift is not acknowledged or accepted—or, worse, you are told, you don’t have any gifts at all?

Spoiler alert. Mild spoilers. The newest Disney film Encanto delves into the life and history of a Colombian family whose members all have magical gifts given to them on their fifth birthdays. Luisa is super strong, the family’s rock. Julieta can heal with the food she lovingly prepares. Camilo is a born entertainer, who can transform into the likeness of anyone at will. And Bruno? Well, we won’t talk about Bruno—not yet, anyway.

But the beating heart of the film is Mirabel. She is the outlier—the only one for whom the magic didn’t happen when that birthday arrived. Fifteen when we meet her, Mirabel has spent her life trying to bravely say that, it’s fine that she doesn’t have a gift—she’s fine, really. Until one day when the foundation beneath the family begins to crack, literally—the magical casita where they all live starts to break down—and Mirabel discovers that all is not well with la familia. What is happening? And can it be fixed?

Image: Pittman, Lauren Wright. Enough, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. https://diglib.library.vanderbilt.edu/act-imagelink.pl?RC=56555 [retrieved January 7, 2022]. Original source: http://www.lewpstudio.com - copyright by Lauren Wright Pittman.

… Jesus is among us, and God’s joy is at party-throwing level. God’s joy is at, ‘Let’s give them the best wine any of them has ever tasted’ level. The Sign of water-into-wine shines out with the love of God in this story. The Sign of water-into-wine is a Sign of God’s ineffable joy, and, potentially, ours, too…

Image: “Wedding at Cana” by Carl Bloch, 1870, courtesy of wikiart.org. Public Domain.

First, there was the visit of Mary and Elizabeth… two extraordinary women who answered the call of God to mother two extraordinary men.

In that same moment, we witnessed the first encounter of John and Jesus, in utero though they both were. John was leaping and dancing in his mother’s womb, to have his Lord so near.

Today, the men meet face to face, though whether it’s for the first time, we can’t say. If Mary and Elizabeth were kin, doesn’t it make sense they’d have run into one another at the odd Passover dinner, or a family wedding…?

Image: The Baptism of Christ by Jerzy Nowosielski, 21st century wall-art courtesy of wikiart.org, Fair Use.