Luke 24:1-12

You know the story. It is the festival of Passover, and Jerusalem is full of pilgrims. They welcome Jesus with shouts of joy, pulling palms off the trees to wave in the air, pulling coats off their backs to lay in the streets. Jesus preaches and prays among them, overturning tables and changing hearts until, on Thursday, he is betrayed and arrested. Until, on Friday, he is tried and crucified and breathes his last.

Then Joseph of Arimathea, a member of the council and a man of great faith, requests Jesus’ body. Joseph takes Jesus down from the cross, wraps him in clean linen and lays him in a new rock-hewn tomb in the presence of women. He rolls a great stone over the door of the tomb.

The Saturday, the Sabbath day, passes in silence. Then, on the first day of the week, at early dawn, Mary Magdalene and other women – in this gospel telling, a whole group of women – come to the tomb with spices to embalm the body. They gather in the dim light at the new tomb where they watched Jesus be buried.

But something has changed. The heavy stone that sealed the tomb has been rolled away. Mary and the women cannot find the body of Jesus. As they stand, perplexed, two angels appear beside them, saying, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.” The women remember Jesus’ words. They go and tell the news to the disciples and all who are gathered.

You know the story. But it is still a mystery. What happens on that Saturday, on that Sabbath? What happens to the body of Jesus in the silent darkness of that tomb? How does the great stone roll away? How do we arrive at Alleluia?

How do we arrive at Alleluia? It’s not only this one story. There are others like it. (more…)

Luke 19:28-23:25

During this Lenten season we have talked about different aspects of forgiveness: about honesty and accountability; about apology and confession; about God’s amazing grace; about the importance of accompanying each other along the way. As we have talked about forgiveness, we have shared stories – mostly personal ones.

Today, Jesus leads us into the political realm. In the events of Holy Week, we watch as a whole society fails one another. The merchants and the moneychangers betray their faith by turning the temple into a marketplace. Judas betrays Jesus for a bag of coins. Jewish leaders hand over one of their own to the Romans out of fear of how his actions might disturb a fragile peace. And finally, Roman leaders give in to the voices of the crowd which cries, “Crucify him!”

So many relationships are damaged and broken, in this week that we call Holy. So many people makes mistakes, and the end result is that a man who sought peace is violently executed. So many people make mistakes — but this year, I have found my attention resting mostly on the mistakes of the crowd.

Remember how we started this service? The crowd is so excited to see Jesus riding into Jerusalem that they tear the branches off trees and wave them in the air. They are so excited to see Jesus that they tear the coats off their backs and place them on the ground in front of him. They are so excited that they shout, “Hosanna!”

The crowd matters in this story. They have a lot of influence. During the early parts of the week, no one acts against Jesus because they know the crowd will not allow it. Crowds of people are spellbound by Jesus’ teaching. Crowds of people are getting up early in the morning to listen to him in the temple. The leaders do not lay a hand on Jesus, because they are more afraid of the crowds of people than they are of him.

But at some point, the crowd shifts. It’s hard to know why. Maybe they begin to wonder what Jesus might ask of them, or how he might change things. Maybe they begin realize just how much force is arrayed against him. However it happens, the crowd’s shift from “Hosanna” to “Crucify him” makes all the difference.
(more…)

John 12:1-8

You may have heard this story before.

30 years ago, Bob Ebeling was one of four engineers at NASA who knew that something terrible was about to happen. These engineers knew that it was too cold for the rubber seals on the booster rockets to function properly on the Space Shuttle Challenger. Panicked, they went to their managers, initiating an eleven-hour teleconference the night before the scheduled launch. But despite their efforts the engineers were overruled and the launch went forward. The Challenger exploded 73 seconds after takeoff. Seven astronauts died.

This January, on the 30th anniversary of the Challenger disaster, at 89 years of age, Bob Ebeling was still racked with guilt and struggling with depression. Interviewed by NPR, he said he still felt that he could have and should have somehow done more. He felt inadequate. God shouldn’t have picked him for that job, he said. He’s prayed about it every day since. Thirty years of payers.

But an interesting thing happened when Ebeling shared his story this year. Hundreds of listeners who heard his interview sent messages of sympathy. Messages came in from all kinds of people, including a few who had been involved in the events themselves. His former boss called to remind him that it had been his initiative to call the space center and question the safety of the launch. One of the people who made the decision to launch, a man who had been painfully shunned, had the generosity to call Ebeling to say “You did all that you could do.” A former NASA official named George Hardy wrote, saying, “You and your colleagues did everything that was expected of you… You should not torture yourself with any assumed blame.” Hardy promised to pray for Ebeling’s physical and emotional health. “God bless you,” he wrote.
(more…)

Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

Many of us have heard today’s story before, a story about two brothers who are not getting along. These two brothers make very different choices. The older brother does everything right. He treats his family with respect and love. He works hard on his father’s farm every day. The younger brother does everything wrong. He insults his family by demanding his father’s money. He abandons his family and wastes all their money, living in a selfish and sinful way.

These two brothers make very different choices. That, in itself, might be enough to start a fight. But what really creates a problem is when the younger brother returns home and apologizes. Without hesitation, his Dad embraces him and throws him a big party. This is just too much for the older son to take. He says, “I have never done anything wrong or asked anything from you. You never threw a party like this for me!” In other words: It’s not fair!

His father says: “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we have to celebrate and rejoice now, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.”

Why does Jesus tell this story? What does he mean by it? (more…)

Luke 13:1-9

Watch out, folks. Jesus is onto us. Jesus has got our number.

In the passage we hear from the Gospel of Luke today, some folks in a crowd have a juicy story to tell. It’s thrilling. It’s chilling. There’s blood and gore and sacrilege. Pilate has killed faithful Galileans and mixed their blood with holy sacrifices! These folks have a juicy story to tell, and they have found a good place to tell it. There’s a big audience of believers, and in the middle is Jesus, who will surely respond with righteous indignation. What a great stage for the show.

But Jesus is a step ahead of the game. He doesn’t take the bait. He doesn’t express outrage about Pilate or the Galileans. Instead, in a classic Jesus move, he turns a question on the storytellers. “Do you think that because these people suffered in this way they were worse sinners than anyone else? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did.”

Way to ruin a good gossip session, Jesus. Way to kill the vibe.

Jesus has no patience for scandal or gossip. Jesus is not interested in schadenfreude, that odd thrill we get when hearing about the misfortunes of others. Jesus is especially disdainful of our attempts to judge others from afar.

Don’t waste time reveling in the dirty details of someone else’s life, Jesus tells us. Put away the National Enquirer and worry about yourself. Life is short and life is precious and everyone’s a sinner. The time is now for you to get right with God.

This passage reminds me of a more famous saying from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount: “Why do you see the speck in your neighbor’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye? …You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your neighbor’s eye.” (Matthew 7:2-5)

We’re talking this season about forgiveness. And there is serious spiritual work to do in opening our hearts towards the possibility of forgiving those who have harmed us. But our exploration of the topic would be incomplete if we do not first stop to examine what harm we have done; if we do not first pause to repent of our own sins; if we do not first locate the log in our own eye.

This summer I heard about the book On Apology by Aaron Lazare. The author, who died last summer, was (among other things) the chancellor and dean and a professor of psychiatry at Umass Medical School in Worchester and a leading authority on the psychology of shame, humiliation, and apology.

Dr. Lazare is clearly passionate about his topic. He seems to have parsed every angle of the subject. His book is full of fascinating examples, from the interpersonal to the international. But I should warn you that, while fascinating, this book makes for uncomfortable reading. If you are anything like me, you may begin to realize that many of the apologies you have offered in the past are not what he would consider true or full or successful apologies at all. And, as he suggests, an unsuccessful apology is often worse than none at all. Ouch.

Every situation is different, and each apology is unique, but Lazare contends that the most important part of an apology occurs when we acknowledge our offense and its impact fully, taking direct responsibility for the harm we have caused.

This sounds straightforward enough, but Lazare gives persuasive proof of how often we miss the mark. We say, “I’m sorry if I have offended you,” unwilling to mention what specifically we have done, or whether we have done anything at all. We say, “I’m so sorry you were hurt” instead of “I’m sorry I hurt you,” avoiding responsibility.

Reading story after story, example after example, I am convinced that we have almost entirely lost the art of apologizing well. This is a skill we need to brush up on, a vital tool for us to use in our relationships with one another and our relationship with God. So, I’m providing a cheat sheet on this book for you to pick up, although I really hope you’ll consider reading the whole thing.

Why is apologizing so hard? Why do we avoid making a full or true apology, or any apology at all? Maybe it is because we fear the reaction to our apology, we fear coming to terms with those we have hurt. Maybe it is because we fear self-awareness, we fear coming to terms with ourselves. Coming to terms with those we have hurt, and with what we have done, and with who we have been, is painful. But consider the benefits. Not all relationships can be healed, it’s true, but we, ourselves, can be healed. We can reaffirm what we intend to value, and reclaim how we intend to live. We can release ourselves from our past.

After scolding the gossips who speak up in the crowd, Jesus tells this parable: “A man has a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he comes looking for fruit on it and finds none. So he says to the gardener, “See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil? The gardener replies: “Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it. If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.”

Imagine that you are a fig tree. Imagine that we are a whole orchard of fig trees. Imagine that God is our gardener. We are not alone. Someone is tending to us, watching our growth. Someone is concerned for our welfare. Some of our branches may be broken. Some of our seasons may not be fruitful. But good gardeners are patient and forgiving. They loosen the dirt around the roots, they add manure to enrich the soil, they even take out their pruning shears when necessary to make room for new growth.

Watch out, folks. Jesus is onto us. Jesus has our number. That offense we think we have hidden, Jesus knows all about it already. Stop focusing on everyone else’s story, he says, and make sure you’re keeping up with your own. Make sure that you’re doing whatever you need to do to make your amends with God and neighbor. Time is so short. Life is so precious. God’s grace is so abundant.

Holy God, our gentle gardener, give us the courage to turn our attention inward, discovering or need to repent and apologize. Grant us the nourishment we need to risk honesty, responsibility, and remorse. Loosen the dirt around our roots; enrich the soil from which we grow; prune us and water us and shine on us until fruit grows ripe and heavy from our branches. Amen.

Luke 13:31-35

By this point in the gospel of Luke, Jesus has set his face towards Jerusalem. He has left Galilee behind and is travelling towards the great temple, towards confrontation with his enemies, towards crucifixion. Jesus is on his way, and he knows what awaits him. But there are just a few more things that he wants to get done before he gets there.

In the verses before our text for this morning, Jesus is really busy. He has a non-stop ministry schedule. He sends out seventy followers to do good work and welcomes them back again. He tells the parable of the Good Samaritan and visits Mary and Martha. He casts out demons and denounces those who abuse their power. Jesus encourages his followers to confess their sins, teaches them how to pray, reminds them not to worry, and tells them to always seek the Kingdom of God. I hope Jesus took some Sabbath days in there somewhere that just weren’t mentioned, because his to-do list sounds exhausting.

Jesus is really busy. There’s so much he wants to do before everything comes to an end. And then, in the midst of everything else, someone interrupts him with this message: “get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.”

Most of us might pause, when receiving a death threat. It’s not an empty threat; Herod Antipas did murder John the Baptist. But Jesus doesn’t even blink. He says with disdain, “Go and tell that fox for me” (that Jesus, he had a way with words) “Go and tell that fox for me” — I’ve got important things to do. I’ll be on my way soon enough. And then, in an instant, Jesus is all compassion, speaking of the city that will be the death of him: “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”

Last week we started a series on Forgiveness. I began by taking about honesty. The healing of forgiveness begins by acknowledging fully the wrongs that have been done to us and by us. Today we turn to the question of God. What role does God play in this process?

To talk about God’s role in forgiveness we have to address the issue of sin. Sin: a word that makes many folks in this branch of the Christian faith a little uncomfortable. Sin, you may say, sounds so SERIOUS, so shaming, so bleak. We may have made mistakes, but do we really need to use that word?

But apart from all of our baggage, sin has a very simple definition. To sin is to act against God’s desires; to miss the mark when it comes to loving God and neighbor. Sinning is not extraordinary, but exceedingly ordinary. It is the natural result of free will. We make our own choices. Inevitably we sometimes choose that which is contrary to God’s desire for us and for our world. This is sin.

Some Christians have spent an awful lot of time and energy parsing different types of sin. If you want to, you are very welcome to read about original sin, venial sins, and the seven deadly or mortal sins; internal sin and interpersonal sin and structural sin. Be my guest. There’s plenty out there, more than I can list, and it’s pretty interesting, too. Of course, be forewarned, Christians in good faith disagree on many points.

Today I want to focus on what happens after the sin, big or small. We sin – we go against God’s desires – it happens every day. What happens next? What happens to our relationship with God? (more…)

Luke 4:1-13

Are you in trouble?

Jesus is. He’s about to face some unbelievably high expectations. If we follow the gospel of Luke up until this point, we see just how much people expect from this man from Nazareth. Jesus’ birth is predicted and celebrated by angels. His uncle Zechariah, his mother Mary, and a holy man named Simeon all sing songs about just how great he is going to be, and the prophet Anna adds a prophecy. It doesn’t help, either, that through his adoptive father, Joseph, Jesus is part of a holy lineage that can be traced through David, Jacob, Abraham, and Noah and goes all the way back to Adam. Jesus’ cousin, John promises the crowds at the River Jordan that Jesus will baptize them with the Holy Spirit and with fire. Finally, when Jesus himself is baptized, the heavens open, and God proclaims for all to hear: “You are my son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

Jesus is in trouble. He knows how much the people are hoping for from him. And he has an inkling, at least, of what God is hoping for, too. Looking within himself, Jesus is just not sure if he’s ready to take it all on and live it all out. So before he starts his work, he tries to prepare himself. He decides to follow the Spirit’s lead and take some time of religious retreat in the wilderness. Then the devil pays him a visit.

This passage raises so many questions. Among them are these: Who is this devil? And why would the Holy Spirit lead Jesus into a forty-day tryst in the wilderness with this guy?
(more…)

Luke 9:28-36

Jesus takes three disciples, Peter, James, and John, up a mountain. Jesus begins to pray, but the disciples need a nap; they almost fall asleep. Just before they doze off, though, they realize that something amazing is happening. Jesus is changing before their eyes. His face looks different; his clothes are dazzling ; he is glorious.

But that’s not all. Rubbing their eyes, the disciples realize that not only has Jesus changed, but that he is not alone. Two of the greatest faith leaders of all time have shown up to chat with him. There they are: Moses and Elijah.

Peter gets so excited he can’t help himself. He doesn’t want this party to end. Peter says to Jesus, “Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.”

But before Jesus can answer, a cloud comes and overshadows everyone; and the disciples are terrified. From the cloud comes a voice that says: “This is my son, my chosen, my beloved; listen to him!”

Incredible. But suddenly, the excitement is over. The special guests depart. The cloud disappears. Jesus, Peter, James, and John head back down the mountain and back to work. And the disciples keep silent, telling no one what they have seen.

A few weeks ago, the Multi-age and middler classes of our Sunday school heard this same story. They went on a hike, just like Jesus and Peter and James and John. They went up the mountain from their classroom in the basement, up to the top floor. They saw a big spotlight and imagined how bright Jesus became. They got covered by a big, white sheet and imagined what it would be like to be covered by a great cloud. And then they returned back down all those steps to their classroom, in silence.

It’s such an exciting story. Bright lights and clouds. Holy visitors and the voice of God herself. But the ending – the ending is a little anti-climactic. After they went downstairs in silence, the multi-age and middler classes got to have trail mix back in their classroom, but Jesus and the disciples don’t even get that. They just return to their daily work.

If we’re lucky, we get a few moments like this in our lives. A few moments when God’s glory is bright and breathtaking. A few moments when God’s voice is amazingly, terrifyingly loud in our ears. What happens afterwards? How do we sustain our hope and energy without that clarity, without that adrenaline?

Today as we remember this exciting story of God’s glory, we also celebrate two of the things that keep us going in those less glorious moments.

In a few minutes, some young people in our congregation will receive a bible. This book is one of the biggest helps that we have in our life of faith. It is not short. It is not always easy to understand. But it contains the testimony of so many of our ancestors. In this book, they tell us all about how they experience and understand God. This is a mine, full of treasures, available for us to dig into at any time.

And a few minutes after we present these bibles, we’re going to welcome new members into our faith community. These people, this community, this is another amazing resource for our faith. It is not simple to live in community together. It is not easy. But each person has testimony to give, and service to offer, joy to share, and help to receive. This congregation is a beautiful web of wisdom and love, available to support us at any time.

If we’re lucky, we get a few moments of God’s blazing glory in our lives. I don’t blame Peter for wanting to set up shop at the top of the mountain. It is good for us to be overwhelmed, to be overcome by the presence and power of God. But we need something else to go on as we continue with our daily work.

Let’s not forget what’s right at our fingertips. This book – if you do not have a copy we can surely get you one – this book is worth your time. And this community – this community is worth your time. God doesn’t often interrupt our lives with pyrotechnic display. Usually, we need to pay attention or we’ll miss out on what the Holy Spirit is doing. It’s worth taking the time to pay attention, by reading scripture, by being in holy community. We need those smaller sips of grace, those little glimpses of truth, those moments of wonder, those breaths of release, to keep us going.

In big and small ways, God leads us. So let’s sing Lead me, Guide me. We’ll sing it in three parts, weaving it in with the next pieces of our worship….

(for those of you at home, you can sing along with this video!)

My mother grew up in the outskirts of Madison, Wisconsin, the second of four children. She had a happy childhood, but her family, like all families, had moments of discord. The moments of discord that I’ve heard the most about involved Oscar Mayer Smokie Link Sausages.

Why would Smokie Link Sausages cause such distress in my Mom’s family? You have to understand that Smokie Link Sausages were, according to my Mom and her siblings, the most delicious thing ever offered for dinner. And you also have to understand that a package of Oscar Mayer Smokie Link Sausages contained exactly eight sausages. There were 6 people in the family. So each person started with one sausage, but then there were two extra sausages. The burning question: who would get to eat them?

My grandparents, probably exhausted from dinnertime bickering, devised an ingenious solution. Each time the family sat down to eat Oscar Mayer Smokie Link Sausages, one of the four children was given the task of cutting up the two extra sausages into six pieces, one for each family member. And here’s the trick: the person who cut up the sausages got the last sausage piece left on the plate after everyone else had picked whichever one they wanted. Think about that. I cannot tell you how many times I have heard how carefully those kids cut those sausages; how they tried to account for the curve at the end of the sausage, moving the knife a millimeter one way or another, so that when the last piece was left, they would have an exactly equal portion of Oscar Mayer Smokie Link Sausage.

You may be wondering what Oscar Mayer Smokie Link Sausages have to do with the Church of Christ in Corinth.

The trouble in Corinth started when the people began to focus on the differences among them. They looked at one another and saw that each person was playing a different role in the community; that each person had different gifts to offer to the community. This shouldn’t have been surprising. It’s true of every community, all the time. But for some reason, at this moment in the life of this church, all these differences brought about discord. Everyone began to argue about which roles were more valuable and which gifts were most important. Is it more important to be an evangelist or a teacher or a healer or a helper or a leader or a prophet? Is it better to work miracles or speak in tongues or perform deeds of power?

Underneath all of the churchy language, this is a Smokie Link Sausage kind of problem. What the people of Corinth really want to find out is how they compare to their fellow community members. They’re concerned that God may have gifted some more generously than others. They’re concerned that the church may have honored some more than others. Deep down, they’re concerned about themselves. What about me, the Corinthians wonder. What about me? Am I getting enough love and attention? Is there enough delicious Smokie Link Sausage for me?

Now the Church of Christ that gathers in this building is quite different from the Church in Corinth and quite different from my Mother’s family of origin. I’ve never heard anyone arguing here about the relative importance of the gift of tongues or deeds of power. I’ve never heard anyone arguing about how to divide Oscar Mayer Smokie Link Sausages.

In general, I would say that we do pretty well treasuring one another’s differences and sharing what we have in common. And the past few years have been a time of abundance – which often makes tolerating differences and sharing common goods easier. There is vibrancy and new possibility in our ministries. We are growing – not only in people and participation but also in courage and creativity. You’ll have to read the annual report or come to the annual meeting to get the full picture – please, read the annual report and come to the annual meeting.

This has been a time of great abundance in our life together. We are growing in beautiful ways. But along with growth comes growing pains. Growing takes time, and work, and energy. Growing takes constant adjustment of our practices and assumptions. Growing means making room for new people and new ideas. Growing, even in the most positive and life-giving ways, also means loss – the loss of what used to be.

All this growth, all these growing pains, can prompt us to ponder those same questions that the faithful in Corinth were asking. Do my presence and my gifts and my preferences still matter, in a more bustling community? Will there be enough delicious Smokie Link love and esteem in this community for me?

Something else has been happening here, too. In this time of abundance and good, hard growth, we’ve also been talking about what to do with our meeting house. It all started back in 2013 when we faced the fact that we needed to paint the exterior of this building and replace the roof – items well outside our yearly budget. Then we began to wonder about the Pine Street Steps, which require yearly repair. The wood in the windows above the Pine Street steps needed work recently too, and in the process of getting that work done we found out that the whole window structure was unstable. The doors have non-standard frames, and they need to be replaced. When do temporary fixes become more expensive than tackling a redo?

Once you start thinking about a significant renovation, of course, plenty of new ideas emerge. We want any significant work on our building, especially a 125th anniversary project, to reflect who we are. We want to make this building more environmentally friendly, reducing our energy costs and caring for creation. We want our sanctuary to be fully accessible, allowing everyone to worship and to lead.  And what about the kitchen?

The more we’ve talked, the more ideas have emerged, and for two years we’ve been brainstorming and setting priorities and weighing options. This process has brought our attention to the fact that we are different from one another, just like the faithful in Corinth. Each of us has different opinions about what and how much should be done to this building, this beloved place of worship and service and fellowship that both expresses and supports our ministry. Each of us has different opinions, and each of us plays a different role in the process of discernment, too: the fiscal conservative and the entrepreneurial risk-taker. The detail-oriented planner and the prophetic dreamer. The folks who rush change, the folks who slow change, and the folks who just haven’t been able to bring themselves to pay attention to the process yet at all – I know you’re out there, and we really need to know what you think, too. This concerns you.

All these differences can make us wonder (if only subconsciously): What about me? Are my priorities and my wisdom being honored? Is there enough love here for me and my gifts?

Yes. I say yes. And I am not alone. The apostle Paul says yes. God says yes.

You are important. Each one of you is precious beyond measure. You have been richly gifted by God. You have something to offer, and this community has something to receive from you. Each of you; each of us; new to the community and old-timers; young and well-seasoned; established in leadership or hoping to avoid it; dying for a good debate or trying to escape any whiff of conflict; passionate about construction or barely able to pay attention. You are important. You are precious beyond measure. You have been richly gifted by God. You have something to offer, and this community has something to receive from you.

This is not an Oscar Mayer Smokie Link Sausage situation. There’s not a limited amount of something to be split up, fairly or unfairly.

We are the body of Christ, and individually members of it. And God has appointed all kinds of people, with all kinds of gifts, to be a part of that body. If one of us suffers, all suffer together. If one of us is honored, all rejoice together. Love is multiplied rather than divided among us.

We in the body of Christ disagree, because we are different people who care passionately about our common life. And when we disagree, God shows us that disagreement can bear beautiful fruit if only we remember that we belong to one another. God calls us towards a still more excellent way. That more excellent way isn’t pretending to agree, or deciding who had the best idea, or trying to divide everything equally. God calls us towards a still more excellent way: which is always a new way, a way we create together, a way that is better because of each person who helped to shape it, and so much better than the way any one of us would have chosen by ourselves.

God of grace and God of glory, we come to you in the midst of abundance, in the midst of good and hard growth, on the verge of exciting and sometimes daunting possibilities. We pray with gratitude for those precious, beloved, people all around us, who bring different gifts and different wisdom than we do. We pray for open hearts and minds, that we might treasure what they offer, and together seek a still more excellent way. Let us not be afraid, but rather rejoice for in your Spirit we are all members of the same body; and before us all you have spread an amazing feast of life. There are so many sausages!  There is French toast and fruit salad. There is more than we could ask or imagine. Thank you, Thank you, thank you. Alleluia. Amen.

John 2:1-11

“Woman, what concern is that to you and me? My hour has not yet come.”

This is what Jesus has to say to his Mother in the gospel today. Not exactly the attitude you’d hope for in a Lord and Savior. Not exactly the attitude you’d hope for in a son.

Jesus has been busy so far in this gospel. It all begins when he shows up one day at the Jordan River. John the Baptist immediately recognizes Jesus as the Lamb of God, proclaims his identity to the crowd, and baptizes him, as the Spirit descends from heaven like a dove. A big day in the life of a Messiah, you might say. But things are just getting started.

On the second day, as Jesus walks by, John declares again, “Look, here is the lamb of God!” Two of John’s disciples decide that Jesus may be the better person to follow, and before he knows it, Jesus is being trailed by Andrew and Simon Peter.

On the third day, Jesus determines that the Jordan may not be a safe place for him to stay. He heads off to Galilee with Andrew and Simon Peter. Once there, Jesus invites Philip to join his new crew, and Philip recruits Nathaniel. Suddenly, Jesus has four disciples. I wonder if he knows what to do with them.

But here is where it really gets interesting. Just three days after Jesus arrives in Galilee there is a wedding. Jesus, his brand-new disciples, and his Mother are all invited. I’m not sure I’d want to party with my Mom and my new congregation, but apparently Jesus decides to go. While they are there, a hospitality disaster ensues. Mary comes to Jesus, saying: “they have no wine.” And Jesus replies: “Woman, what concern is that to you and me? My hour has not yet come.”

Jesus is rude to his mother. But it’s hard to know what’s behind it. Maybe he doesn’t want to set the tone for his ministry by providing alcohol at a wedding. Maybe he’s not eager to perform miracles just because his Mother says he should. Maybe Jesus just doesn’t feel ready, on approximately day six of his public ministry, to try out his powers in front of such a large crowd. We don’t know, but what comes out of his mouth according to the Gospel of John is: “Woman, what concern is that to you and me? My hour has not yet come.”

But Mary is impervious to Jesus’ caution, his dismissal, his disdain. In a stroke of parenting genius, Mary says to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you,” and leaves the scene.

Jesus takes the bait. He asks the servants to fill six stone water jars with water. When they draw the water out again, it has become at least 120 gallons of excellent wine. The gospel writer declares: “Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.”

In other words, it goes well. Andrew and Peter and Philip and Nathaniel are really impressed. Thousands of years later, people are still talking about that whole “water into wine” party trick at the wedding in Cana of Galilee. And Jesus himself seems to gain a lot of confidence from the experience. Just a few days later, according to this Gospel, Jesus goes up to Jerusalem and drives the money changers out of the holy temple, the center of his faith.

How do we know when we’re ready? How do we know when our time has come? How do we know when it’s time for another spiritual growth spurt, or a public viewing of our most private and precious gifts? (more…)