Acts 1:1-11
He replied, "It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."
When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight.
While he was going and they were gazing up toward heaven, suddenly two men in white robes stood by them. They said, "Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven."
This week is the beginning of our annual Summer Sermon Series. In previous summers we have talked about blockbuster movies, nostalgic toys, camping and other fun stuff that reminds us of summer. This year, we will focus on that rite of summer, the "SUMMER VACATION." What do we learn from our travels? About ourselves? About other people? About the ways different cultures view the world? About the way your mode of operation is forced to change if you are in an unknown place that operates differently than you do?
After all, that is where the disciples and early apostles of Christ find themselves in the days after his resurrection and just before and immediately after his ascension. They find themselves in a radically different landscape. Maybe THEY haven't actually gone to a new place geographically, but their worldview has been forced to change. And now, with the pronouncement from Jesus, the Christ, that they are to "be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth," they DO find themselves in the position of having to navigate this early evangelism thing in new cultures and places and to people who are unlike them.
"Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven?" A question reminiscent of the phrase Jesus utters in the Easter passage when he says to Mary, "Don't hold on to me." The men in white robes are suggesting that they cannot look to a physical Jesus anymore to guide them. That they need to find the inner Jesus, the Holy Spirit's beckoning, to carry them to another way of seeing things.
I have heard countless jokes, seen videos and read many travel guides that suggest that New Yorkers can always tell who the tourists are because they are always looking up. The ones who don't live and work in the city day to day are awed by the magnificent skyline and the amazing skyscrapers. That tourists can't help but look up while those who live there never do. My son Jake says he never looks up anymore in NYC after spending a school year there. And that he, too, gets frustrated by the mobs of people who DO stand around clogging up the sidewalks looking up all the time. Only tourists look up in New York City.
I have always struggled with the idea of blending in on a trip and not looking like a tourist. Because, after all, I AM a tourist. Why do I need to look like a New Yorker while I'm there when I'm a Coloradan? Why does a New Yorker need to look like a Coloradan while visiting this fine state? But I guess the point is it is just easier for you if you will attempt to assimilate a bit into the culture so that you can absorb more of the local culture rather than creating distractions for yourself.
In the context of the scripture this week , it is a concept in letting go of your own view of the world. The men in white are urging the disciples to not look heavenward toward that Jesus, the Christ, who just ascended.
Don't look up. Because if they only look up, they will miss everything that's going on around them. The will miss the opportunities to minister to those in their own worldview.
Don't look up. Because if they only look up, they are relying and depending on what WAS... the time when Jesus led them, rather than what IS.. the present time in which Jesus inspires them through the Holy Spirit's work in their lives.
Don't look up. Because if they only look up, they will look lost and detached and a little more like people who are disconnected from the world around them, in town like tourists only for a short while, rather than in town to connect to the people who Christ called them to reach.
Do you have times when you have tried to 'fit in with the locals' on summer vacation trips? Or do you just embrace the tourist role instead? What are the pros and cons to both of these approaches? Email me or comment below. Happy SUMMER!
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
"Priestly robes and stoles"
We are back to Exodus 40 one more time. To that scripture where God sets up the church. The people sense that God is calling them to be in community in this way, following these customs and patterns. And part of that is the priestly robes and stoles being placed on Aaron and the others who will become priests of the people. Those set aside by God to follow the priestly functions for the temple are adorned with vestments. To show people who is leading the community.
I haven't always worn a robe and stole here at NUMC. And I often don't in the summer because it's just too hot in our non-air conditioned space. But I was reminded a couple of years ago in reading about these very matters that it is important. That the robe and the stole, they mean something. That they show the gathered community that my role is ordained by God in this place. Not over and above theirs, certainly. But, different than. I struggled with that, I admit it. But then, yes, I finally did understand it. When you decide to follow or act on what you believe to be a call from God to enter into the world of ordained ministry, you put yourself out there in a different way of serving.
Last year at our annual pet blessing, I had on my usual jeans and t-shirt to bless the animals. Makes more sense to wear jeans and T's around pets, instead of robes and stoles. But, for whatever reason, at the last minute, I ran inside and grabbed my stole with the kids handprints on it. And, I realized that it was the right thing to do. We had a lot of visitors at our pet blessing (YAY!). Probably as many visitors as church members. And each one of them came up and started talking to me and showing me their pets as soon as they walked down the drive because they identified me by the stole. Oh, SHE's the one who will bless Tiger! I want to speak to her. It made a difference to them that they could identify right away who was carrying out the blessing role for their pet in a place they wanted to come, felt compelled to be, but had never been to before.
As the 1 Corinthians scripture points out, we all have roles to play. We aren't all called to the same function in the body of Christ. Some are teachers, some are prophesiers and so on. In our church, we distinguish these roles by what we do mostly. The physical act of being the person, like Karen, in the kitchen. The physical act of being on the stage singing, like the choir. Each living out our roles in special functions.
But we also do it in visual ways, too, not just with me in a robe and stole, but with our acolytes. Our service does not begin until the acolytes begin it. It is the children acolyting who set the tone that lets us know worship has begun. They put on their robes. The grab their candle lighters. They process in. Then and only then do I know it is time for me to live into my own role. They lead me. They lead all of us. The acolytes create our worship space. They draw it out for us like a road map each week, Leading us in and taking us out. They bring the light of Christ in and they take the light of Christ into the world. Their role is a major one. Most significant.
I heard a sermon once called "Follow the Acolyte" and I have never forgotten it. If you don't know what to expect, or what should happen, or how things are going to play out when you arrive, don't fear. Sit down, take a seat, take a breath or two and wait for the acolyte to lead you. Pastors wait for the acolytes all the time. If it's a new church and we don't know what do do, we just follow the acolyte because we know THEY know what is going on.
So we remember to thank God for the many gifts we share in this one faith community. And we remember to give thanks for those acolytes who don their robes and grab the light of Christ and lead us into worship. And we remember and give thanks to the choir and the paid musical staff for leading us in the most important thing we do, singing together. And we give thanks that God gave us all a role to play in this deal. We aren't all called to the same path. But we are all called to walk together toward the same God. What are your gifts and do you use them to worship God? What roles do you see others called to, and how can you help encourage them to live into the roles? Email me or comment below.
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Singing in Community
Psalm 100
Ephesians 5:15-20
We read these familiar words in Psalm 100:
Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth.
2 Worship the Lord with gladness;
come into his presence with singing.
and these lovely words in Paul's letter to the Ephesians
... be filled with the Spirit, as you sing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs among yourselves, singing and making melody to the Lord in your hearts, ...
and we smile. There is something about the notion of singing and 'making melody' that makes our hearts glad, whether or not we can actually carry a tune. And, in our religious communities, unlike most other places in our lives, there is a designated time when we all do join our voices together and sing.
An article published in The Atlantic a couple of years ago notes that in our current American society there is a noticeable absence, almost a complete and total absence, of communal singing, of singing in a group together. Save the moment in the seventh-inning stretch where we all rise to our feet and sing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame," or the occasional group singing "Happy Birthday" around a table, we pretty much do not sing together as a society.
And yet, even in the most ancient of cultures, the importance of singing in community is apparent. From an early time, the Jewish people were singing and chanting from the Book of Psalms, which is actually a 'hymnal' of sorts. Even in non-religious elements of the great civilizations in Greece and elsewhere, songs were sung in unison and in community as ways of marking the passing and rituals of life.
Today, almost the only place we have definite, regularly-appearing moments in time to sing together is in church. In our faith communities. And people of faith who are gathering together and choosing to eliminate this integral part of the faith experience are missing a beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful, way the people of God come together. Singing in community is a way for the faithful to lift their lives and voices in praise and thanksgiving, in lament and penitence, in reflection and wonder. The community voice singing together the old hymns of the faithful, the new hymns of joy and justice, the poetic prayers lifted to God... these are the most important moments we share together.
The Methodist movement historically has huge reliance on the hymns of Charles Wesley, perhaps even more than the words of his brother, John Wesley, to spread its gospel message. Who can imagine Easter without the words of "Christ the Lord is Risen Today" or Christmas without the words of "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing!" Thank Charles Wesley for both of those iconic hymns.
Last year, Todd and I were fortunate to attend the CU Christmas Concert at Mackey Auditorium with combined CU choirs and orchestra, thanks to the generosity of Dick and Marian Walker who supplied us with tickets. The whole concert was wonderful, magically produced. But the heart-warming part where the whole room stood and sang Christmas carols together made every spirit soar. There is just no way to connect to one another and to praise the Divine quite like a community raising their voices together.
This week we praise God for the gift of music. We remember the legacy of psalms and early hymns that continue to bind us together in harmonious rhythm as the people of God. What are your favorite hymns and songs of the faith? What psalms did you memorize as a child? Email me or comment below.
Ephesians 5:15-20
We read these familiar words in Psalm 100:
Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth.
2 Worship the Lord with gladness;
come into his presence with singing.
and these lovely words in Paul's letter to the Ephesians
... be filled with the Spirit, as you sing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs among yourselves, singing and making melody to the Lord in your hearts, ...
and we smile. There is something about the notion of singing and 'making melody' that makes our hearts glad, whether or not we can actually carry a tune. And, in our religious communities, unlike most other places in our lives, there is a designated time when we all do join our voices together and sing.
An article published in The Atlantic a couple of years ago notes that in our current American society there is a noticeable absence, almost a complete and total absence, of communal singing, of singing in a group together. Save the moment in the seventh-inning stretch where we all rise to our feet and sing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame," or the occasional group singing "Happy Birthday" around a table, we pretty much do not sing together as a society.
And yet, even in the most ancient of cultures, the importance of singing in community is apparent. From an early time, the Jewish people were singing and chanting from the Book of Psalms, which is actually a 'hymnal' of sorts. Even in non-religious elements of the great civilizations in Greece and elsewhere, songs were sung in unison and in community as ways of marking the passing and rituals of life.
Today, almost the only place we have definite, regularly-appearing moments in time to sing together is in church. In our faith communities. And people of faith who are gathering together and choosing to eliminate this integral part of the faith experience are missing a beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful, way the people of God come together. Singing in community is a way for the faithful to lift their lives and voices in praise and thanksgiving, in lament and penitence, in reflection and wonder. The community voice singing together the old hymns of the faithful, the new hymns of joy and justice, the poetic prayers lifted to God... these are the most important moments we share together.
The Methodist movement historically has huge reliance on the hymns of Charles Wesley, perhaps even more than the words of his brother, John Wesley, to spread its gospel message. Who can imagine Easter without the words of "Christ the Lord is Risen Today" or Christmas without the words of "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing!" Thank Charles Wesley for both of those iconic hymns.
Last year, Todd and I were fortunate to attend the CU Christmas Concert at Mackey Auditorium with combined CU choirs and orchestra, thanks to the generosity of Dick and Marian Walker who supplied us with tickets. The whole concert was wonderful, magically produced. But the heart-warming part where the whole room stood and sang Christmas carols together made every spirit soar. There is just no way to connect to one another and to praise the Divine quite like a community raising their voices together.
This week we praise God for the gift of music. We remember the legacy of psalms and early hymns that continue to bind us together in harmonious rhythm as the people of God. What are your favorite hymns and songs of the faith? What psalms did you memorize as a child? Email me or comment below.
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
Candles, incense, altars, and that kind of stuff
"It sounds rather strange to us," say philosophers to Paul about the teachings of the good news of Jesus Christ.
And it was indeed new in many ways. This Jesus, crucified, dead and risen as the Christ. And yet, the faith and religious practices were still firmly rooted in the people of the Abrahamic faith. The Jews who devoutly followed God, then disobeyed God, then repented and devoutly followed. Jesus and the new Way was a branch of a very ancient path toward God.
And one of the earliest ways people encountered what they perceived as the 'place of God' was in the tabernacle, the tent of meeting, later called temple. Later still, though the concept was somewhat different, the synagogue. The tabernacle of the tent of meeting that was breathed into life by the Lord speaking to Moses, as recorded in the book of Exodus. "You shall set up the tabernacle of the tent of meeting." God orders in the candles (called lampstands), the altar for offerings, the basin of water, the anointing oil, the furniture, all of it, spoken to Moses by God.
So, this week, we discuss candles, incense, altars and that kind of stuff. The stuff of the original tent of meeting that still carries into the synagogues and churches of today. Why is it that God wants candles there? Is it just to be able to see the scrolls? Why the burnt offering altar? Why the anointing oil? The incense?
I caution us though... It is important to remember that these things, though declared by God as holy are not God-like themselves. They might be consecrated by God for the worship space, but they themselves are not idols to be worshiped. It's important to remember that because when memorial gifts are given, sometimes people allow the gift to take on an idol like status. But of course the original intent is to praise God through the gift.
The 'stuff' of the worship space is a part of the whole structure. It is a part of our 'weirdness' that identifies us and makes us different in this place. It is a part of the atmosphere that says this space is set aside for God to be our focus, for us to praise and give thanks to God as a community. We don't anoint our heads with oil in the sub shop. We don't have a child process in with the light of Christ in places that we aren't intending to beckon God's presence to be with us.
Once I preached at a church that had to 'set up' church every week because they met in a school. Now I know week in and week out that would get pretty old, but for me that day, it was a beautiful thing to see an ordinary gymnasium become a church with an altar, and candles, and paraments (the cloths on the altar and pulpit) and a Bible being placed just so.
The weird stuff of church is special to us for a reason. Let's explore some of that this week. If you have comments, email me or comment below.
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
the whole body and blood thing
Exodus 12:21-28
Mark 14:12-25
There has been so much emphasis in the last thirty years or so on making church 'more palatable' and less churchy. We have stripped the robes off the priests, stripped the pulpits away from the front of the sanctuary, even taken out candles and offering plates, and sometimes even crosses. All in an attempt to make church somewhere people want to be. And, honestly, for the life of me I can't figure out why. If people want to do something that isn't church why would they come to church to do that?
I read a book a while back called Bad Religion and it set me off on a course of thinking about church and why we do or don't do what we do in this place we call our sanctuary. Not too much later I heard a story about a group of teens who said they didn't want to go to church where everything feels like their everyday life, they liked their church because it's weird. I loved the thought of that. They like ti because it's weird.
So, this month, we are going to look at Keeping Church Weird. A look at the weird stuff do we do in this sanctuary space of ours and why we do it, where it started, and why it might be important after all.
This week we look at the sacrament of Holy Communion. To a total outsider looking in this whole imagery of "this is my body" and "this is my blood given to you" is a little more than weird. Why does Jesus, at the last supper with the disciples, decide to take the bread and call it his broken body? Why does he take the cup of wine and say it is his blood, the blood of the new covenant? What relevance do those terms have to the faith of those gathered in the Upper Room and what relevance do they still have today? What is it about that event that is so significant that it has carried over into the life of every Christian congregation since as one of their most important sacraments of the faith?
It dates back to a time when animal sacrifice, the spilling of the blood of a lamb, was a normal part of a worship service. You brought in an animal and sacrificed it as a burnt offering to the Lord. It continues in the institution of the Passover ritual, a time established by Moses to set aside for remembering the time when the Israelites were spared by God and allowed to leave their slavery in Egypt and head for a land promised to them by God.
But why does body and blood matter? Why do we clean it up and not call it body and blood in our progressive churches? And is there a difference in what we mean today when we talk about the sacrament of Holy Communion and what it might have meant in the years shortly after Jesus' death and resurrection?
Join us this month as we educate ourselves a little on why we are who we are and how we might just want to 'keep church weird' after all.
Thoughts? Comments? Email me or comment below.
Mark 14:12-25
There has been so much emphasis in the last thirty years or so on making church 'more palatable' and less churchy. We have stripped the robes off the priests, stripped the pulpits away from the front of the sanctuary, even taken out candles and offering plates, and sometimes even crosses. All in an attempt to make church somewhere people want to be. And, honestly, for the life of me I can't figure out why. If people want to do something that isn't church why would they come to church to do that?
I read a book a while back called Bad Religion and it set me off on a course of thinking about church and why we do or don't do what we do in this place we call our sanctuary. Not too much later I heard a story about a group of teens who said they didn't want to go to church where everything feels like their everyday life, they liked their church because it's weird. I loved the thought of that. They like ti because it's weird.
So, this month, we are going to look at Keeping Church Weird. A look at the weird stuff do we do in this sanctuary space of ours and why we do it, where it started, and why it might be important after all.
This week we look at the sacrament of Holy Communion. To a total outsider looking in this whole imagery of "this is my body" and "this is my blood given to you" is a little more than weird. Why does Jesus, at the last supper with the disciples, decide to take the bread and call it his broken body? Why does he take the cup of wine and say it is his blood, the blood of the new covenant? What relevance do those terms have to the faith of those gathered in the Upper Room and what relevance do they still have today? What is it about that event that is so significant that it has carried over into the life of every Christian congregation since as one of their most important sacraments of the faith?
It dates back to a time when animal sacrifice, the spilling of the blood of a lamb, was a normal part of a worship service. You brought in an animal and sacrificed it as a burnt offering to the Lord. It continues in the institution of the Passover ritual, a time established by Moses to set aside for remembering the time when the Israelites were spared by God and allowed to leave their slavery in Egypt and head for a land promised to them by God.
But why does body and blood matter? Why do we clean it up and not call it body and blood in our progressive churches? And is there a difference in what we mean today when we talk about the sacrament of Holy Communion and what it might have meant in the years shortly after Jesus' death and resurrection?
Join us this month as we educate ourselves a little on why we are who we are and how we might just want to 'keep church weird' after all.
Thoughts? Comments? Email me or comment below.
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
"Don't Hold on to Me"
John 20:1-18
They said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping?" She said to them, "They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him."
Mary is beyond distress. Not only has her beloved Jesus been crucified, but now his body has been stolen from the tomb. She is terrorized. But this is only the beginning of a roller coaster ride of epic proportions, as the next verses indicate.
When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?"
Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, "Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away."
Jesus said to her, "Mary!"
She turned and said to him in Hebrew, "Rabbouni!" (which means Teacher).
Jesus said to her, "Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, 'I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.'"
What a moment of shock and awe it must have been for Mary when Jesus calls her by name after his resurrection. She utters "Teacher!" but must have been a mixture of terrified, thrilled and panicked shock.
And so immediately, he senses her wanting to cling to him. To hold him close since she thought he was gone forever. And he tells her no. "Do not hold onto me because I have not yet ascended to the Father." This state of affairs, this moment with Jesus is temporary and fleeting. Don't hold too tightly to this moment because it will not last forever.
This is the moment where Resurrection theology can be most clearly seen at work. Jesus is risen indeed, but he demands that his loved ones not hold onto the bodily form they see before them. It isn't about Jesus the man anymore, it's about God's love overcoming even the sting of death. It's about what people will do now that they have looked that powerful love right in the eye. It's about how to live with Jesus the Christ as a part of your own being. Not as a man you invite to dinner, but as a savior who lives and reigns in your daily life.
This is the moment that Jesus shows us that resurrection is not a body being risen from a tomb. Resurrection is releasing what we held onto before. Resurrection is looking at the same scene in a whole new way. Resurrection is knowing that the tomb will likely enclose us again at some point, but God's love alive in our hearts has the power to roll away the stone that traps us in the tomb. Resurrection is a way of life, not a moment in time.
What do we hold onto because it feels safer than looking at things a whole new way? Why do we resist resurrection and favor clinging to the past instead? Email me or comment below.
PS: Don't forget to attend our Good Friday service and cantata this Friday evening at 7 pm. Beautiful communion and choral rendition of the last week of Jesus. You don't want to miss it! Also remember our Easter Brunch potluck and Easter Egg Hunt for the children right after the 9:30 worship service on Sunday!
They said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping?" She said to them, "They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him."
Mary is beyond distress. Not only has her beloved Jesus been crucified, but now his body has been stolen from the tomb. She is terrorized. But this is only the beginning of a roller coaster ride of epic proportions, as the next verses indicate.
When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, "Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?"
Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, "Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away."
Jesus said to her, "Mary!"
She turned and said to him in Hebrew, "Rabbouni!" (which means Teacher).
Jesus said to her, "Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, 'I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.'"
What a moment of shock and awe it must have been for Mary when Jesus calls her by name after his resurrection. She utters "Teacher!" but must have been a mixture of terrified, thrilled and panicked shock.
And so immediately, he senses her wanting to cling to him. To hold him close since she thought he was gone forever. And he tells her no. "Do not hold onto me because I have not yet ascended to the Father." This state of affairs, this moment with Jesus is temporary and fleeting. Don't hold too tightly to this moment because it will not last forever.
This is the moment where Resurrection theology can be most clearly seen at work. Jesus is risen indeed, but he demands that his loved ones not hold onto the bodily form they see before them. It isn't about Jesus the man anymore, it's about God's love overcoming even the sting of death. It's about what people will do now that they have looked that powerful love right in the eye. It's about how to live with Jesus the Christ as a part of your own being. Not as a man you invite to dinner, but as a savior who lives and reigns in your daily life.
This is the moment that Jesus shows us that resurrection is not a body being risen from a tomb. Resurrection is releasing what we held onto before. Resurrection is looking at the same scene in a whole new way. Resurrection is knowing that the tomb will likely enclose us again at some point, but God's love alive in our hearts has the power to roll away the stone that traps us in the tomb. Resurrection is a way of life, not a moment in time.
What do we hold onto because it feels safer than looking at things a whole new way? Why do we resist resurrection and favor clinging to the past instead? Email me or comment below.
PS: Don't forget to attend our Good Friday service and cantata this Friday evening at 7 pm. Beautiful communion and choral rendition of the last week of Jesus. You don't want to miss it! Also remember our Easter Brunch potluck and Easter Egg Hunt for the children right after the 9:30 worship service on Sunday!
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
"Ceremonial Stuff"
Matthew 21:1-11
After a big parade or a ceremony of some kind or any sort of gathering of the masses there's always the stuff that's left behind. What do we make of that stuff and the importance (or lack thereof) it has for people who leave it behind?
The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road.
The parade in Jerusalem that we read about at the beginning of this week's service is an amazing spectacle. Disciples running to get a donkey AND a colt. And cloaks. They put cloaks on the donkey and the colt.
At the parade site, people spread yet more cloaks on the road. Others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. I am thinking that long past our gospel writers' renderings of these passages, there must have been the stuff of ceremonial events, like this parade, lying in its wake.
Palm branches left on the street. Perhaps even cloaks still lying there. People caught up in the moment of Jesus' entry and the loud "Hosanna" of the crowd could certainly forget their cloaks.
One time, after my son Jake's performance as Nicky in Avenue Q last year, I left my coat at the theatre. I didn't even notice for a couple of days, and by the time I did, the coat was gone forever. Not in the lost and found. Just gone. Perhaps taken by someone who needed a coat, perhaps taken by someone who needed to steal, who knows, but I never got it back. In the coat pocket was a ticket stub I also kept there to a Broadway performance of "In the Heights" my favorite Broadway musical. I kept it there because it would be a fun reminder to me of my family's experience seeing that show on Broadway and the excitement of that evening. It was kind of my 'it's a bad day and this will cheer me up' pocket companion. Also gone in the chaos of me leaving my coat behind.
We do leave stuff, even important stuff, lying behind when we get caught up with the ceremonies of life and with the drumbeat of the crowd. When Jesus enters Jerusalem that day, few people realized he was headed toward his death by the end of the week. Not even the disciples who had been repeatedly told by Jesus of this destiny. The crowd was just caught up in the cheers and the passion of the moment. So they put palm branches and coats on the road and joined the fray. And, because we know the rest of the story, we know the excitement surrounding Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem did not last, did not sustain itself, but turned into a mass mob fleeing the scene and leaving Jesus nearly alone, except for his mother and a few faithful women. Another example, I might add, of mass mentality. Leave and hide because everyone else did. Yell "crucify" because everyone else is.
When we leave things like umbrellas at weddings or funerals, or coats in theatres, or dishes after a potluck, it is because we are forgetful, yes. It is also because we fail to recognize that all of what is going on around us is important, not just the rush of the crowd or the excitement of the reason we came. The scene all around Jesus in this last week of his earthly existence is filled with big moments and small everyday moments. This Easter lets focus on them all. The big biblical renderings and the small, seemingly insignificant details about who brought coats and who left their trash lying in the street when it was all over.
Would a CSI agent be able to come to the scene of Jesus' death and find our bread wrappers there? Our coats and handbags? Would they be at the foot of the cross or would they be strewn about in a field clearly determining that we got the heck out of town as soon as the road got dark and dangerous?
Where do you want evidence of you to be found this Easter? Email me or comment below.
After a big parade or a ceremony of some kind or any sort of gathering of the masses there's always the stuff that's left behind. What do we make of that stuff and the importance (or lack thereof) it has for people who leave it behind?
The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road.
The parade in Jerusalem that we read about at the beginning of this week's service is an amazing spectacle. Disciples running to get a donkey AND a colt. And cloaks. They put cloaks on the donkey and the colt.
At the parade site, people spread yet more cloaks on the road. Others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. I am thinking that long past our gospel writers' renderings of these passages, there must have been the stuff of ceremonial events, like this parade, lying in its wake.
Palm branches left on the street. Perhaps even cloaks still lying there. People caught up in the moment of Jesus' entry and the loud "Hosanna" of the crowd could certainly forget their cloaks.
One time, after my son Jake's performance as Nicky in Avenue Q last year, I left my coat at the theatre. I didn't even notice for a couple of days, and by the time I did, the coat was gone forever. Not in the lost and found. Just gone. Perhaps taken by someone who needed a coat, perhaps taken by someone who needed to steal, who knows, but I never got it back. In the coat pocket was a ticket stub I also kept there to a Broadway performance of "In the Heights" my favorite Broadway musical. I kept it there because it would be a fun reminder to me of my family's experience seeing that show on Broadway and the excitement of that evening. It was kind of my 'it's a bad day and this will cheer me up' pocket companion. Also gone in the chaos of me leaving my coat behind.
We do leave stuff, even important stuff, lying behind when we get caught up with the ceremonies of life and with the drumbeat of the crowd. When Jesus enters Jerusalem that day, few people realized he was headed toward his death by the end of the week. Not even the disciples who had been repeatedly told by Jesus of this destiny. The crowd was just caught up in the cheers and the passion of the moment. So they put palm branches and coats on the road and joined the fray. And, because we know the rest of the story, we know the excitement surrounding Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem did not last, did not sustain itself, but turned into a mass mob fleeing the scene and leaving Jesus nearly alone, except for his mother and a few faithful women. Another example, I might add, of mass mentality. Leave and hide because everyone else did. Yell "crucify" because everyone else is.
When we leave things like umbrellas at weddings or funerals, or coats in theatres, or dishes after a potluck, it is because we are forgetful, yes. It is also because we fail to recognize that all of what is going on around us is important, not just the rush of the crowd or the excitement of the reason we came. The scene all around Jesus in this last week of his earthly existence is filled with big moments and small everyday moments. This Easter lets focus on them all. The big biblical renderings and the small, seemingly insignificant details about who brought coats and who left their trash lying in the street when it was all over.
Would a CSI agent be able to come to the scene of Jesus' death and find our bread wrappers there? Our coats and handbags? Would they be at the foot of the cross or would they be strewn about in a field clearly determining that we got the heck out of town as soon as the road got dark and dangerous?
Where do you want evidence of you to be found this Easter? Email me or comment below.
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