The 19th century short-story writer and Civil War veteran, Ambrose Bierce, in The Devil’s Dictionary wrote a humorous, somewhat scathing social critique, disguised as a resource book. Listen to these entrances: “Love, n. A temporary insanity curable by marriage.” The book is also quite cynical! “Lottery: A tax on people who are bad at math.” Clearly math has never been humanity’s strong point! “Cabbage, n. A familiar kitchen-garden vegetable about as large and wise as a man’s head.” Apparently, men were just as obtuse in his day! But it is his definition of hospitality that concerns us this morning. “Hospitality, “The virtue which induces us to feed and lodge certain persons who are not in need of food and lodging.” In Bierce’s time, as perhaps in ours, what passed for hospitality was exchanging social favors amongst the well-to-do. This is the opposite of what Jesus had in mind when He spoke of welcoming others, indeed in His ministry and the way He lived His life. Far from exchanging social niceties with His peers, He spent time with tax collectors, lepers, sinners. Essentially the people others refused to. He entered their homes, ate and drank with them, despite the naysayers. He enjoyed life with them. This welcome Jesus calls us to is not as simple as saying hello to a passerby. It is not a generic reception. It is tailored to the person on your doorstop; welcoming “a prophet as a prophet” He says, “a righteous person as a righteous person”. Specifically, Jesus means that each encounter you have is a chance to experience God’s plan for your life. For to welcome them for who they are means exploring the intention of God. In the Middle East, welcoming the stranger is an obligation that has been embedded in their culture, since even before the time of Jesus. I remember on a trip to Jordan in the midst of floating on the Dead Sea, looking at the river Jordan, peering over Mt. Nebo, where Moses first saw the Promised Land, the most memorable aspect was the reception we had in every town, market, and hotel. The stranger is treated as an honored guest because you never know who they might be. Perhaps this practice stems from the ancient encounter that Sarah and Abraham had with three strangers at the Oaks of Mamre as told in Genesis 18. Abraham spies three strangers from the comfort of his tent. He runs to greet them and offers them, not his leftovers, but the very best (i.e., most expensive) cakes and meat from his larder. Jonathon Sacks, the once Chief Rabbi of Great Britain, observed that the Hebrew Bible contains only one command to love the neighbor, but no less than 36 to love the alien. And because of our fragmented world, that person may be someone across the globe, across town, or even at the end of your pew. And a gracious welcome has the power to change the world. After extending his hospitality, suddenly these three strangers seem to be more. Somehow, they know his wife’s name and declare, “In due time your wife will have a son.” In fact, it has ceased to be with Sarah after the manner of women, so she laughs saying, “After I grow old shall I have pleasure?” She could not believe in a future filled with the promise of a child. She could not conceive of a world full of joy. Especially not one that came about from being nice to a stranger. Out of the blue in this story, suddenly the voice of God speaks, “Is anything too wonderful for the Lord?!” Apparently not, for soon Isaac is born and the history of salvation begins. But serving the “aliens” of this world brings us pause. We hesitate to help a person on the subway because we’re not sure if they are faking it. Not too far down the street from one of my old houses there was a driveway with a sign that read, “No pulling in the driveway. Especially stalled cars. This means you!” But Abraham shows us how to open ourselves up to the stranger. He bowed down to them. If three strange men appeared on your lawn, what might your reaction be? A) Run inside, close the blinds and hope they didn’t see you B) Turn on the sprinkler system to teach them a lesson, or C) As Abraham did, run to meet them, bow down while saying “If I find favor with you let me serve you.” Somehow, rather than fear them, Abraham considered it a privilege to welcome the stranger. Karen Armstrong, world-renowned expert in religious studies, explains how Abraham did not simply exhibit the age-old aphorism, “be kind to strangers”. Rather, he acted on one of the deepest truths folded into the very fabric of the universe. [Abraham’s encounter of God at Mamre] expresses a truth which is central to monotheism, the sacred does not manifest itself only in holy places. We can also encounter the divine in other human beings. It is essential therefore that we treat the men and women with whom we come into contact, even complete strangers, with absolute honor and respect because they too enshrine the divine mystery. This is what Abraham discovered when he ran out joyfully to meet these three travelers and insisted on giving them all the refreshment and comfort he could. [Jerusalem: Once City Three Faiths] Dignity. Respect. In some ways in our world today there is a vast chasm that has opened between cultures, religions, races, economics and more. But this passage suggests that dignity and respect may be the key to crossing this chasm. One German philosopher, Gadamer, went even further explaining there is a fundamental distance between all people because you can never truly get inside someone’s head, walk in their shoes, you can never truly understand their perspective. But as people of faith we believe there is a power that can bridge the divide, that can cross the existential gap between us all; the power of the Holy Spirit. And as you can see in Abraham and Sarah’s encounter, and Jesus’ way of life, the Holy Spirit’s binding power comes through, extending hospitality, actively welcoming. It is not sitting on our metaphorical front porches waiting for someone to knock. It means chasing down the encounter as Abraham did and bowing down to the divine within them. I never knew the power of welcome until we moved to Magnolia, Arkansas to pastor First Presbyterian Church. At first, I thought they were being fake, I was not used to people being that nice! Sterling Lacy, an Elder there, was a shining example. Every person he met he vigorously shook their hand while looking them in the eye with an inviting smile and enthusiastic hello. He sang in the choir, and (despite his propensity to fall asleep and snore during the sermon!) he would spy a visitor any the congregation and make a beeline to the back of the church to catch them before they left. In 1994, he stood up and challenged the session to ensure that where all the other churches pushed them away we would welcome those with AIDS, as we would have welcomed the Lord Himself. My goal is to become 1/10th as gracious as Sterling Lacy and I will be able to meet my Lord with a head held high. Brick has this spark. People come to the Tree Lighting and are hooked for decades. And people from many walks come to our campus. In fact, on Easter, we had agnostics, Sikhs, Jews, and atheists. Several of them came to me and remarked how much joy the entire service gave them and how welcome they felt. That warms my heart to know that they know we love and respect them, whatever their path in life and that we do so because this is precisely what our Lord taught us to do. A few weeks ago, people raved about the Strawberry Festival, especially those from the neighborhood. As I was passing out hotdogs one woman came to me, “I am Jewish, but If I were a Christian this would be my church!” May we welcome all as we would welcome the Lord Himself, and we too will discover the healing power of God to bring all people into the divine fold of love. Amen.

But to what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another, ‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we wailed, and you did not mourn.’ For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon’; the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds. - Matthew 11:16–19 This passage discloses a fundamental tension in faith, a tug of war between… …the call to self-denial and the call to feast. …our sinful nature and our divine spark. …the stern demands of God and the infinite grace we receive. …a God who demands everything and a God who gives us all. …God who punishes our iniquities and a God who forgives our evil deeds. Throughout history the church waxed and waned between these extremes, most notably in the Middle Ages. There was an order of monks, the flagellants, who whipped themselves to suppress pleasure, physical joy, and wrong thoughts, while ecstatic mystic women prayed themselves into moments of ecstasy in God’s presence. This tension is manifest in the dynamic lives of John the Baptist and Jesus of Nazareth. John famously emerges from the wilderness, eating locus and wild honey, not to mention wearing a scratchy hairshirt! His first words are scathing, “Repent...You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” Because of John’s austerity and wrath-oriented message they accused him of being possessed! But Jesus fared no better in the rumor mill of his time, “Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax-collectors and sinners!” We need to hold the tension between these extremes because without, both our faith becomes problematic. This is not a milquetoast middle. Think of a high-tension wire that you need to walk across. Simply holding it in the middle will mean the ends are limp and dangling. But if you pull it taut on both sides, suddenly it can be crossed. This is the path of faith which means a strong understanding and experience of sorrow and joy. A faith only of sweetness and light can become just as shallow as a life only lived for personal pleasure. A faith so immersed in guilt and shame becomes necrotic and ultimately denies the goodness of God. A faith which demands nothing of you turns God into the vending machine. A faith which leaves no room for our personal pleasure becomes an act of self-loathing. Throughout the Bible, God, like a good parent, reprimands and comforts. Sometimes like I feared my grandma Rian, who would not hesitate to put me on the Deacon’s bench as a child, we should fear God. For that fear helps us to be faithful and honest. And yet, despite this dual witness in scripture, there is a decided bias. God’s “yes” is louder than God’s “no”. The final word is not judgement but grace, and the final description of you is not “sinner” but “beloved child of God”. Not only is the final word of God “yes”, but the primary word for you and me now, today, even in this world as it is, is not sorrow but joy! And we can see this in the life of Jesus. Most of the depictions and even the scriptures convey Jesus as a very serious, somewhat moody – filled with compassion, yes – but scary, or often just plain dull. We have the impression from centuries of interpretation that Jesus was a solemn man who only went about preaching and doing miracles and speaking profoundly but in fact our passage shows us that this was not the case; the gospel writers clearly recorded another side. The criticism that He was a drunkard, and a glutton conveyed His ability to enjoy the simple things in life and to do so with a sense of camraderie with whoever is willing to sit at table with Him. In this text we see quite SURPRISINGLY that JESUS represents the joyous side of the religious movement at the time within Judaism and John the more ascetic. Jesus had of course deep respect for John, but He chose a different path. He chose the sinners and tax collectors; because let’s face it; they are more fun! And life is meant to be filled with joy! Christianity’s central message, after all, is known as “the good news of the gospel” Good news! “I’ve got good news good news / good news good news” as the song goes. Of course, the irony is for everyone to have true access to this good news requires in the end the most horrific events of bad news. But this is key. Jesus did not suffer this terrible fate on the cross to say we all must live lives of bad news, but of good news. And in this mystery, Jesus transforms the very nature of suffering and pain so that it becomes the primary path to freedom and joy. Thus, the duality, the tension of the faith is God’s plan to redeem and restore us all. So, Paul rejoices in the Lord always. He rejoices in his physical infirmity. In the feuds with fellows Christians. In his tragic shipwrecks. In the beatings from the Romans. And while in prison he sings; he sings songs of praise. I have seen this same joy in prisons in men’s eyes, bodies, hearts, and souls. It was the music on Sunday worship at Trenton State Prison, and they had given their lives to Christ, and, yes, that sounds very evangelical, but it was also very true. And so, though they were in earthly bondage, their spirits, as was Paul’s, were free. And this is the truest of all good news we will ever know. It is good news when a college acceptance comes. When a promotion comes through. When a health scare is averted. But as wonderful as they are, they are fleeting, and they can all be lost. The college may not work out. The health problem return. And promotion becomes a firing. But this good news of the gospel cannot be lost. It can only be found. This means, oddly enough, the Bible also wants us to rejoice even about the trials, not just the ‘feel good’ stuff. For it all comprises God’s plan to bring us greater wholeness and peace. So, Paul wasn’t the only one. James wrote in his epistle, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.” This fundamental tension of faith between joy and sorrow prevented C.S. Lewis for years from accepting the good news. He wrote, “My argument against God was that the universe seemed so cruel and unjust.” But over time through conversations with Tolkien and reading George MacDonald, he came to see, “The hardness of God is kinder than the softness of men, and His compulsion is our liberation.” Thus, he saw the central truth of Christianity and wrote Surprised by Joy, which describes his conversion. And like most of us, he had confused the extreme demands of Christianity as a life bereft of happiness. But instead as the title conveys, he was surprised by the joy! But the Christian does not suddenly become unfailingly happy. Happiness and joy are distinct. Joy comes precisely through the work of suffering, suffering out of love. Thus, God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten son. As Lewis wrote: To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Thus, we come to know this joy is discovering that you are loved by the essence of love itself. Some years ago, our family experienced a loss. And the comfort of family and familiar pleasures could not release me from the sorrow. It was a sorrow like a cave in which I could not even see the way out. But Sunday rolled around like it did every week. I did not want to lead worship. I felt vulnerable, afraid, and did not want to draw attention to myself. So, I was surprised, that as soon as we sung the opening hymn, Joyful, Joyful, We Adore Thee, a healing joy washed over me, cleansing tears flowed through me. The sorrow for the loss was still present but the love of God had transformed the pain. God wants us to enjoy life. But if that means only pleasure it will become hollow and empty. True joy only comes through true love which as we know can bring pain. But the final word from God is love. Amen.

Presbyterian worship in New York City began under the Dutch West India Company, which founded a trading post, New Amsterdam, in 1624. What mattered to the Dutch was trade, and New Amsterdam offered an ideal harbor for their worldwide mercantile empire. The North River, now the Hudson, led them to the riches of the interior. In contrast, Pilgrims from England had arrived in the New World in 1620, seeking religious freedom. Of course, England coveted the lands which the Netherlands had claimed as the settlement of New Amsterdam. Presbyterians migrated south from Puritan control of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, again in pursuit of religious freedom. In 1642 Francis Doughty and Elder Richard Smith established a meetinghouse in what is now Elmhurst, Queens, and in February of the following year they moved to New Amsterdam and were for four years known as “the church within the fort.” In the Dutch city of New Amsterdam, Presbyterians were relativity unrestricted. At the conclusion of the several Anglo-Dutch wars, New Amsterdam became New York. In the 1664 Articles of Capitulation, the Kingdom of England agreed to uphold freedom of conscience among other freedoms. However, in 1701 Edward Hyde, subsequently known as Lord Cornbury, became the governor of New York and New Jersey. In 1707 he ordered the prosecution of Reverend Francis Makemie, leader of the first Presbyterian Synod in America for preaching without a license. Makemie languished several months in jail before being acquitted. Presbyterians in New York City first gathered for worship in 1706 in private homes until they built the Presbyterian Church, the Wall Street Church, on the north side of Wall Street, in 1719. In 1738 a movement now known as the First Great Awakening began, spearheaded by the “grand itinerant” preacher George Whitefield. The movement encouraged introspection and a commitment to a new standard of morality. It was ideal fodder for a Presbyterian, and it also incited division and rancor in the church between traditionalists and new revivalists. There was political unrest around the city as well. The conclusion of the Seven Years War, aka the French and Indian War in 1763, left the British short of cash. The Sugar Act of 1764, Stamp Act of 1765, and the Townshend Acts of 1767, attempted to raise revenues, but these measures stepped on the toes of the American colonists and raised issues about “taxation without representation.” You know where that led. In the midst of all the turmoil that was going on, The Brick Presbyterian Church came into being as a place of worship, reflection and solace for the citizens of the City of New York.

Some Presbyterian churches in New York are named for their seniority: First and Second. Others for their location: Fifth Avenue and Madison Avenue. But only Brick Church is named for its building material. Why was a brick building so startling? In the years before the American Revolution, Presbyterians worshipped in a modest wooden building on Wall St. The congregation lived nearby and walked to church. As the city grew, the Wooden, or Wall Street, Church congregation outgrew its building. So the session decided to build a second church for those who had moved northward to the edge of the city. They chose a small lot on the corner of Beekman and Nassau and erected a glorious brick structure in 1767. The first service probably took place on New Year’s Day, 1768. Today a Pace University building sits on that land, just south of where the Brooklyn Bridge empties into Manhattan. It’s across the street from City Hall Park. Eventually the two congregations under a single session split up. The Wall St. Church was the antecedent of First Presbyterian Church and The Brick Church became the official name of the Beekman/Nassau St. congregation. So you could say that First is either our mother or sister church. Of course we didn’t stay in that location. When the neighborhood around City Hall Park changed, the leaders decided to remain a parish church that people could walk to. They built the next church on 5th Avenue and 37th St., then a residential area popular with the congregation. Once again the session chose bricks. This second building was completed just before the Civil War. Today Lord & Taylor occupies that site. But Presbyterians kept moving. In the 1930s, the corner of Park Ave. and 91st St. was an appealing location in an area where many members lived. The third brick building for The Brick Church – our present church – was completed in 1940. There have been two constants throughout this history that are likely to continue far into the future: dedication to serving the membership where they live, and doing so in fine brick buildings.

When New York City became the first capitol of the United States in 1789 the newly elected president needed a house for his family while residing here. A stalwart of the Brick Presbyterian Church happened to be living in a very stately mansion at 1-3 Cherry Street, and he offered it to President Washington. The church member (later Clerk of Session, President of the Board of Trustees and Elder) Samuel Osgood (1747-1813), was originally from Massachusetts, had previously studied theology at Harvard, been a colonel in the American Revolution, and was active politically. President Washington appointed Osgood to be the first Postmaster General for the new Federal government. Osgood’s second wife, Maria Bowne Franklin, whom he married in 1786 and by whom he had five children, was a member of the important Quaker Bowne family, and she was the widow of Walter Franklin, the previous owner of 1-3 Cherry Street. Her first cousin happened to be the established Quaker cabinet maker .omas Burling. He was chosen to make furnishings in the Federal neo-classical style for the mansion, thanks to a grant from the congress, which detailed every item owned by the public in an Articles Furnished list. .e furnishings later went to Philadelphia to the next presidential mansion. Burling’s shop was a few doors down from the Brick Church, then called the New Church, on Beekman Street. It was convenient for Washington, Jefferson and Knox to drop by, and one of their visits there was recorded in a newspaper at the time. Burling privately made furniture for these men as well as for the Clinton family and for Robert R. Livingston, who administered the oath of office to Washington. Additionally Burling’s partner made furniture in the prevailing style, replete with Federal motifs of eagle, stars, laurel leaves and classical columns for the recently refurbished Federal Hall on Wall Street. Going back to 1776, also known to General Washington was the minister, Dr. John Rodgers, of the New Church, which had become a jail and then a hospital in the hands of the British during the American Revolution. With the exception of a few loyalists, its members rushed from the city and did not return until the British departed on Evacuation Day in the fall of 1783. A pillar for the Brooklyn Bridge now replaces 1-3 Cherry Street. Fortunately the Bowne stationers building can be visited in the South Street Seaport restoration, so a bit of history of the neighborhood remains. Sadly, the Brick Church and Burling’s shop on Beekman Street have long vanished. So too has the resting place for Samuel Osgood, who published on religious subjects, and was buried on hallowed ground in a vault in the yard of his church on Beekman Street.

Abraham had no good reason to believe God. At least not from what he knew. Sarah was famously decades past childbearing years and journeying to some unknown place that would become his descendant’s legacy seems desperate at best. Thus, Paul’s powerful phrase, “hoping against hope.” This is the hope that borders on the irrational, except this call was coming from God. Abraham’s hope was uniquely insightful. Remember at the outset Abraham did not truly know what kind of God the Lord was. He lacked the benefit of the Bible. He hoped in a new type of God. Not the gods so many others believed in. Most of the people believed in gods that were vengeful, despots, licentious, petty, not a god that would go out of the way to bless a relative nobody. Perhaps Abraham was one of the first to truly hope in God who would bless humanity, a Lord that was merciful and was steadfast, trustworthy, and true. In other words, a god of love. And though Abraham was relatively well-off compared to others of his time, we should not think he lived an easy life. As social theorist, and clergyman Thomas Hobbes quipped in the 17th century, “Life is nasty brutish and short.” And for Abraham that also meant the end of his line – no rational basis for thinking he would have an heir. But he wasn’t a fool. One theologian wrote, “It is a great mistake to confuse hope with optimism. The optimist looks on the bright side, expects a happy ending. Hope, on the other hand, simply refuses the foreclosure of despair, resists the absoluteness of impossibility.” He hoped against all the evidence to the contrary. Abraham was old. It ceased to be with Sarah after the manner of women. But for twenty years he continued to believe in this ridiculous, indeed impossibly ludicrous future that kept him focused on the Promise Land. He hoped against hope that God would indeed fulfill, “The unquenched yearning of the human heart for nothing less than everything.” The titanic theologian of the 13th century Thomas Aquinas explains, “[Imagine] the intrepidity required of [Abraham] as, taking a deep breath, he weighed up what was at issue in leaving home and the familiar world behind and setting out into the unknown, trusting God's obscure promise that the apparently impossible was, indeed, his destiny. And off he goes, seventy-five years old and childless, hoping against hope that 'all the families of the earth' will find blessing through his progeny.” (Hoping Against Hope: Abraham’s Dilemma, Nicholas Lash) In other words, hope is the belief in the impossible. Indeed, we hope against hope in the impossible love of Jesus Christ. Paul’s words from Romans are indeed the summation of all Christian hope. The impossible love of God. A God of galaxies, a God of goodness. A God of all knowing, a God who knows us all. A God of infinite power, a God of intimate tenderness. A God who demands everything, a God who gives us all.​ Even a destiny, an eternal home, a heaven, a place of perfect peace. When our daughter, Liz, was two years old, she had this habit of trying to leap head first out of our arms when she wanted to get down. And the only reason she did this brave and foolish act is because she had perfect confidence in our care. We would not let any ultimate harm come to her. This is the hope we have, “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well." (Julian of Norwich) And trusting in God’s ultimate care gave Abraham the moxie to go from his country and his kindred to the land. And it is the same bold hope we need. But notice Abraham didn’t remain on his proverbial front porch hoping the future would change. He had to live into; he had to act!!!! But I want to tell you two stories. It is one of impossible hope and deliverance by God. A journey in some ways more treacherous than Sarah and Abraham’s with a hope no less absurd. Now I don’t know about you but just watching the evening news is enough for me to lose hope. I want to turn it off, never to turn it on again. But a few decades ago, a man was watching the terrible news about the Hmong people who were being slaughtered in the war in Laos. He went to his session and told them “People are dying!” And they took action. Fast forward almost thirty years. I met a young man named Huau, a pharmacist, who at five years old made a treacherous journey. He told me how his rural farming family had to flee Laos for Thailand. For five years the fate of his family was in his hands, to learn both English and French to give them the best chances to be resettled in a desirable location. I asked him, “How did you not give up hope!?” “I never thought I would fail. I never gave up hope. How could I with people like those of your Church making sure I wouldn’t… I am here because a member of your church, was watching the news, hearing about how terrible things were in Laos and he decided to do something about it. You know why I am here? Because there are people in this world who do things they don’t have to do.” Here in New York someone acted with the same hope. Like the news, the prison systems seem to be a place where hope goes to die. But hoping against hope, several of you committed to helping forge an educational ministry which results not in a GED, or a college degree, but a master’s degree! And such a program helped educate an inmate, Mr. Absalom, and he obtained a bachelor’s degree and a master’s degree while in prison. He helped bring young people into the prison to talk to them about the impact of gun violence. He spoke candidly about the poor choices he made, the regret for his crime and the continued suffering it caused. “Because of a choice I made 20 years ago, I was not there to be a father to my children, and unfortunately, my children fell into the same cycle. My 17-year-old child, my son, lost his life.” Colin was granted parole after 25 years of serving time for his crime. But there was a wrinkle. He was Jamaican-born and came to the states when he was 11 years old. And though the New York prison system believed he was reformed and worthy of being returned to society, the Federal system was going to deport him. That is when the next level of hope – of hoping against hope – went into high gear. One of your members with countless phone calls, emails, visits meetings and more would not be daunted by trying to do something that had never been done before – convincing the governor to pardon someone currently incarcerated. And she succeeded and changed his life and his family’s life forever, because she hoped that God would work. She hoped in a world in which people, and systems, can change. “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all.” (Emily Dickinson) Let hope in God perch in your soul; so that you may act. Do it with childlike boldness, with the wisdom of the aged, with bright-eyed belief, and steely-eyed determination. Do so because we have the sure and certain confidence that through God in Jesus Christ, the impossible is certain, that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed to us all. Amen.

The Bible is the most amazing book in the history of the world. Without question it is the most read, studied, and translated book in all of history. But there is a problem with it. No instruction manual on how to use it. II Timothy claims that all of it is useful. But with stories about talking donkeys, children taunting bald men and being attacked by a bear, and claims that the sky is held up by pillars makes Paul’s claim in Timothy spurious at best. It seems unfortunate that God does not use the latest modern technology which I experienced to great blessing a few months ago. I was driving familiar territory on the way to Princeton, but construction had blocked the normal route. I fired up Google Maps and thank goodness it had been updated! Right away I was back on the best path to finish my trip! Wouldn’t it be wonderful if God sent updates to scripture? These updates could answer directly some of the more thorny problems of the modern age. When is war appropriate in today’s world given our supreme destructive capabilities but without letting innocents to be massacred? Should we use genetic modifications to cure diseases in-utero? How much should I pledge to the church? How should we balance compassion for desperate families with the need for enforcement of laws? What is the right degree of separation between church and state? Did Jesus truly mean it when he told us to forgive others 77 times 7! A few years ago, was 29-year-old Brittany Maynard of Oregon justified in taking her own life so that she was in control of her fate rather than the cancer ravaging her brain? These are not simple questions. It would relieve us of a great deal of anxiety and grave mistakes If God would only send us the Bible 2.0. And yet, somehow the Bible is meant to be our unique and authoritative guide. I know many of you struggle embracing this concept with the clear problematic view of women amongst other things, the seeming wanton violence that God’s very self commits and the outdated science it includes. Thomas Jefferson’s solution was to mark out those passages he didn’t like! …by cutting and pasting with a razor and glue numerous sections from the New Testament as extractions of the doctrine of Jesus. Jefferson's condensed composition excludes all miracles by Jesus and most mentions of the supernatural, including sections of the four gospels that contain the Resurrection and most other miracles, and passages that portray Jesus as divine. (Wikipedia). Jefferson tells us his motivation: In extracting the pure principles which he taught, we should have to strip off the artificial vestments in which they have been muffled by priests, who have travestied them into various forms, as instruments of riches and power to them. …shall I say at once, of nonsense. Although God has not given us a user manual, nor those constant annoying updates, of course God in His wisdom has given us something much better – the Holy Spirit. On this day of Pentecost in which the Spirit poured power into the hearts of the disciples and more, this same Spirit gives us the means by which to understand the Truth of scripture, Truth with a capital “T”! It is through reliance on the Holy Spirit that we are able to discern how the Bible’s instruction from one age translates into guidance for our life today. John Calvin writes, “the Word will not find acceptance in men's hearts before it is sealed by the inward testimony of the Spirit.” And the Westminster catechism observes, “Only the witness of the Holy Spirit in the human heart can finally persuade a person that scripture is the word of God.” We must rely on the Spirit in reading scripture because words on a page without the infusion of God’s presence are nothing more than wasted ink. Unfortunately, we can see this truth through the history of errors and evil committed through abuse of God’s Word. According to legend, Origen, an ancient theologian, castrated himself based on Jesus words, “If you’re right eye causes you to sin tear it out.” Jesus was speaking metaphorically not literally! In the medieval ages kings quoted Romans 12, “Let every person be subject to the governing authorities.” in order to justify complete authoritarian control over their subjects. Obviously, God did not intend these words to give dictatorial control to kings. Knowing God’s will for us today is not as simple as reading words on a page. God seems to have made it doubly difficult. Not only does the Bible not update itself but it also comes to us through the culture of its day and the eccentricities of its authors. But of course,God has a reason, a plan, which will do something more wonderful and more challenging than we could ever receive in a Bible that was updated or one that was dictated. The key comes from a word that Paul invented for this passage – Theopneustos. It is a conjunction of the word “God” and “breathed”. “All scripture has been breathed into being by God.” God breathed into the hearts of humans. God inspired them and then they wrote it. God did not dictate the Bible. Timothy does not read, “All scripture was written by God.” This is how Muslims understand their sacred texts. Muslims believe that the Angel Gabriel dictated the Koran to Mohammed. Reading scripture as a disciple is a process of getting back to that same moment, that same experience that inspired the text to begin with. In order to know God’s meaning, we too must be breathed into by God. Knowing the Truth comes from being connected to the source of Truth. Every Saturday morning as a teenager when I went to the fridge for some breakfast, I would find a Post-It Note with chores and instructions for the day (my mother was no dummy, she knew a teenage boy sooner rather than later would be in the kitchen!). I didn't exactly rejoice upon seeing the list but after I had finished it, I knew I was square with the house and the day was mine. But God demands more than this. We are purposely not given a list to follow but something deeper. In Jeremiah, God declares, “I will put my law within you. I will write it upon your hearts.” Ultimately, Truth is not a list of propositions about God that the Bible teaches us. Truth is something that comes alive within us. It is a seed God plants within us. It is like the student who sits at the piano for years with her incredible teacher. She takes in all the instruction she can, she practices endlessly, and then one day her instructor is absent, and she plays, something new, something born from all she was taught but from not rote memorization, the music is a part of her, and it comes to life through her both in a unique way, but one born from her mentor. Paul writes that we are to be transformed. God wants us our obedience to come from within. Scripture is meant to shape us, not to dictate to us. Certainly, God wants us to obey the Word because these are divine commands, but more than that God wants us as Paul writes, “To grow up into the full stature of Christ.” Which comes from the indwelling of the Spirit. This is why we can’t update scripture. In the same way that Google updates its map software, God leaves us room for us to grow. By leaving a gap between the age in which scripture was written and our day we are forced to seek out the guidance of the Holy Spirit. We are forced to consider the implications of these difficult questions that face us today. This dialogue, this wrestling between the text and today’s world engages the depth of our heart leading us into a prayerful seeking disposition. That is the crucible in which we become obedient from the heart, in which we grow up into the full stature of Christ. Second Corinthians 3:3 explains, “and you show that you are a letter of Christ, prepared by us, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts.” This leads to God’s ultimate intention. We are not to believe something because it is in the Bible but because we have been convicted of its truth from within. The Holy Spirit’s quickening presence in our reading of scripture should guide us. Each time we open its pages we should come with the words of that hymn on our heart: Open my eyes, that I may see Glimpses of truth Thou hast for me; Place in my hands the wonderful key That shall unclasp and set me free. Silently now I wait for Thee, Ready my God, Thy will to see, Open my eyes, illumine me, Spirit divine! Amen.

So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! 2 Corinthians 5:17 Did you ever get caught by a cloud? Perhaps it was a roaring soaring Cumulonimbus with its puffy majesty and towering power that suggested a mighty tempest on the horizon. You can feel the pressure change, the wind begins as the thrill of a coming storm sets in. Maybe it was a Cirrus whose plumy contrails evoke the delicate beauty of an artist’s long brushstroke, painting the sky with feathery delight. Or perhaps a fluffy puffy Cumulus, the fun one, in which turtles, and mushrooms and elephants unbelievably dance across the sky. I love clouds. There is a cloud-appreciation society (with over 50,000 members) and its founder Gavin Pretor-Pinney has a delightful Ted Talk, Cloudy With a Chance of Joy. “But I think they’re beautiful, don’t you?...It’s just that their beauty is missed because they’re so omnipresent, so commonplace that people don’t notice them …unless they get in the way of the sun.” Clouds are an amazing piece of God’s creation. They bring shade on a sunny day, delight on an afternoon walk, a warning of storm on the way, not to mention the practical gift to thirsty crops of their life-giving water. There should be moments, and days, and occasional weeks in which we all stare at the clouds or whatever brings you the simple sheer joy of being alive. Last week on a perfect day many had filled such a prescription and I walked to the Bethesda Fountain. It was such a day I knew throngs of people would be snapping selfies, playing music, blowing giant bubbles and simply relishing life for a moment. It was a beautiful and heart-soaring moment. To see so many find so much. A time to stare at the clouds and to wonder at the beauty of life. Heavenly. The disciples had an even more fantastic day. Jesus, who died, the rose from the grave is whisked into the clouds! Incredible. Wonderful. Glorious. But for the disciples it was a time to look to earth. Immediately after Jesus ascends into heaven angels appear castigating the disciples, “Why do you stand looking up to heaven?” Surely any one of us would have been gawking at this amazing sight. This was less of an actual question and more of a command. Time to get busy. A few years ago, I was standing at the airport counter waiting to check in when the gate agent did something very strange. He started dancing and moving back and forth. He could see I was thoroughly caught off guard, so he pointed to my shirt, “I’m getting busy!” At that moment I remembered! I was wearing a t-shirt from my mom that said, “Jesus is coming! Get busy.” Since then, this phrase has rattled around in my brain. How often we forget. Though we don’t all have the shirt, we all have the job. And it reminds me that at times we just need to act! The disciples had been given a job, a mammoth job, take Jesus’ gospel to the end of the earth. And to perhaps no one’s shock more than their own, mission accomplished! They did it! It would be too easy for them to remain in the spot both literally and metaphorically, bask in the memory of his power keep their gaze to heaven, wait for another sign, for the wind to change, stars to align, sore feet heal, and frail hearts to grow strong. Jesus has shown them the way. Over the past several years He taught them about God’s kingdom. He showed them how to channel the Spirit’s power. He demonstrated the nature of love He demanded; He has handed over the reins to them. The training wheels are off. It is called the “Acts” of the Apostles, not the musings. Another ancient book known as the Didache, which shares teachings of the apostles, didn’t make it into the Bible because their acts, i.e., their actions speak louder than words. For the disciples the actions required were clear, travel from town to town, preach the good news, heal the sick, and show the way. We have an equally pressing mission today. People need the grace that Jesus can give, the fellowship that the Holy Spirit provides, and the love that God pours out so generously. They need it, and they need it badly. The statisticians have finally discovered what we have always known. That being a part of a loving community can be the difference between life and death. Those parts of the country in which people are more engaged in regular worship attendance Church won’t erase your problems. But it can give you hope, give you purpose and empower you to give it to others. And so, we too have to get busy. Though it has not come directly from Jesus’s lips your commission is clear. Bloom where God has planted you. One friend of mine found her call in the midst of her teaching job. Some of her students were living in motels, as she said, “with a parking lot for a playground and a TV for a babysitter.” She knew it was time to take her head out of the clouds, and her friends as well, and together they provided food, activities, and more for the children. And, by the way, better jobs for the parents and eventually a real home for many of them. Rather than simply wallowing in the state of the world and laying blame at others’ feet they got busy. And they changed lives. Your calling may be as simple and powerful as living your faith in the place where you work. Several members have shared with me the struggle of being a Christian in this secular world. They don’t feel comfortable talking about their faith but still want it to matter where they work. It does not mean pounding on the Bible. It does mean having a servant’s heart toward your workers. It does not mean telling them how to live their lives. It does mean showing them by how your live yours. If you follow His call, people will notice. When you repay no one evil for evil, tame your tongue, honor others, judge not, love your enemies and show the compassion of Christ. If you live these in your place of work people will notice, and wonder, and that’s when you let them know and invite them to Brick. We all have this mission and there are times when we will be tempted to abandon our ethics because Jesus is asking more of us than we feel we can give. And He knows this, and there is a time to get even busier but there is also a time He gives us to stare into the clouds. It is the time when the well has run dry, our purpose is lost, and our cynicism reigns supreme. There was a funeral here a few years ago. A very successful woman with a gold medal from the King of Sweden!! She described herself as having her head in the clouds! She was clearly not flighty in mind or temperament; there was a very earthy and rooted embracing of life and all it offers; but she explained that that is where her faith is, in the clouds. When she looked to the clouds, when she lifted her head to the heavens, she felt God’s presence; God’s beauty; God’s creativity. God’s both out of reach, you can’t touch the clouds; but it is also right there; you can see it, anytime you want!!! So, we need the cloudy moments of delight not to stay stuck in heaven but to be rooted on earth. God has crafted an amazing life for us all. Duty and beauty and both are sublime. Immanuel Kant, perhaps greatest philosopher of modern age, famously wrote that two things filled him with awe -- the starry heavens above and the moral law within. There is a rhythm to this thing called faith. At times it will feel like the Christlike agony of sacrificing it all, but in the very next the resurrection of eternal joy. Sometimes in the same moment. Amen.

So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! 2 Corinthians 5:17 Ezekiel, written by a prophet from the 5th century B.C., is arguably the most obscure, compelling, bizarre, damning, and hopeful book in all the Bible. Like Revelation, it is filled with bizarre, arcane visions difficult to interpret, so much so that ancient readers essentially warned people not to read it. There is an old tale of a child who picked up a copy of the book of Ezekiel at his teacher’s home and suddenly understood the true meaning of the extremely obscure and much-debated Hebrew word hasmal in chapter one verse twenty-seven which is meant to describe the very substance of God…Instantly, fire came out from the hasmal and incinerated him. St. Jerome from the fourth century who gave us the Latin version of the Bible wrote, “…The beginning and ending of Ezekiel …are involved in so great obscurity that like the commencement of Genesis they are not studied by the Hebrews until they are thirty years old.” It is Ezekiel’s descriptions of God that prompted this treatment: and seated above the likeness of a throne was something that seemed like a human form. Upwards from what appeared like the loins I saw something like gleaming amber, something that looked like fire enclosed all round; and downwards from what looked like the loins I saw something that looked like fire, and there was a splendor all round. Like the bow in a cloud on a rainy day, such was the appearance of the splendor all round. This was the appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord. (Ezekiel 1:26-28) These descriptions of God help convey the central concern of this book, the sovereign glory of God. It is critical to know that Ezekiel wrote this from exile in Babylon as the Israelites longed to return home. The state of exile fundamentally shaped the Israelites in this time. It was through exile that the notion of God’s glory became so powerful because it felt so incredibly absent. Rabbi and professor of Tamara Ezkenazi described this state: Exile. It is not simply being homeless. Rather, it is knowing that you do have a home, but that your home has been taken over by enemies. Exile. It is not being without roots. On the contrary, it is having deep roots which have now been plucked up, and there you are, with roots dangling, writhing in pain, exposed to a cold and jeering world, longing to be restored to native and nurturing soil. Exile is knowing precisely where you belong, but knowing that you can't go back, not yet? There is a feeling akin to exile that many are feeling in our country today, like we have a home that we love but it has been taken over. Except it’s more like an exile in place, in which you haven’t left home but home has left you. This exile is felt all around by diverse political and religious dispositions. Civic discourse has fallen to the altar of the machinery of the aggrieved. The shootings, so many horrific shootings, which I won’t try to solve or lay blame on one particular group (for it’s really all of us) are a symptom of a void in the heart of our country. And I think in some ways it is the same void from which Israel suffered. In Ezekiel, God is furious at Israel for failing to properly honor the Lord’s sovereign glory, that is why they are feeling its absence. That which has brought them joy, and pride, and hope, and life is gone. And there is a particular reason God is especially angry in how His glory has been neglected for those dear to Him have been abused. The Shepherds of Israel have not only failed to protect the sheep, but the weakest sheep have been ravaged. As God proclaims: You have not strengthened the weak, you have not healed the sick, you have not bound up the injured, you have not brought back the strayed, you have not sought the lost, In our text today, God accuses the Shepherds, who represent the kings, of not only failing to protect the sheep, that is the people of Israel, but slaughtering them for their own benefit. That is the feeling today. That there is a group of people in our country who, like the kings of Israel, are slaughtering the values we aspire to most greatly. That everyone truly is equal. That we are a country who has been made strong through the depth of our compassion. And made weak when we do not embrace those values for everyone – as we failed to do for women, for African Americans, for Native Americans. But at our core, we the people, especially the people of New York City, believe in what our great Statue of Liberty extols. Ironically on the plaque she is named, “Mother of exiles!” Mother to those who feel no home and no place. And this is what she proclaims echoing the words of Ezekiel, “Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free…” The power of this statement today is for all spiritual immigrants. It is for all of those who feel like exiles, all for whom God has a heart. And in all this clanging noise too often we fail to hear those crying out for love. As Christians, this is what we believe will heal, our own broken hearts, the hearts of those filled with hatred, and the hearts of those filled with despair. As Paul wrote: if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing. Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. And our path from exile begins with loving the weak, the sick, the injured, the strayed, and the lost. Love as the answer to our ills certainly seems simplistic. But the Church, despite its waning over years, is still a tremendously broad and powerful institution. And love is an infinitely scalable commodity. If Christ’s church throughout this country joined together with all people of compassion to love those who needed it most, indeed things could change just as they did through Jesus’ love so long ago. But this is not only an emotional love. It is a love of action. If each church in its area of influence found those most vulnerable sheep and loved them through addiction, homelessness, mental health challenges, and more, things could change. But it must be as Paul describes, it must bear all burdens, it must insist on the way for others, the love must endure all challenges. As a congregation we are called to do what can we do to offer this love to the most vulnerable sheep. So they may longer not feel they are in exile. Tuesday Night Dinner Party is an incredible start. It is an act of selfless love not only seeking to feed the hungry but to nourish their souls through friendship and fellowship. And it very well may be God is preparing us to do so much more in this arena. For once in a church, we have more volunteers to make this ministry run than we need…for now. There may be many more God will call into Watson Hall to be fed in body, mind, and spirit. In fact, we should pray for them to come. So we can reach out to these sheep close to God’s heart and let them know someone cares, that someone is willing to do something for them, that they matter to us, to our city, and most of all to our God. Like Israel we yearn to feel that God is on our side again. We would do well to heed the words of Abraham Lincoln. During the Civil War, he was purportedly asked if God was on his side. “Sir, my concern is not whether God is on our side,” said the President, “my greatest concern is to be on God’s side, for God is always right.” God’s heart is with the weakest, most vulnerable sheep and in the end, in the midst of all the terror of Ezekiel, God promises that these sheep will be healed, fed, loved. "I will feed my sheep. I will rescue my sheep. I myself will search for my sheep. …And I the Lord shall be their God." God makes it clear. In order to hallow the sovereign glory of God – central theme of this book, and in some ways the theme of the whole Bible, is done through loving these beloved sheep, in word, and in deed. Amen.

The disciples are clearly having trouble wrapping their brains around the reality of a risen Jesus. At this point in Luke’s gospel most of the disciples had only heard what they considered idle tales of gossip of Jesus’ resurrection. But upon seeing Jesus, they believe He is a ghost. A ghost was a more likely scenario to them than a person rising from the dead. After inviting them to see His wounds, something shifts in their souls. This beautiful phrase – joyous disbelief – captures so much about the nature and power of the gospel. It reminds me of one of my favorite childhood movies, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. For my young brain, Roald Dahl’s description of Charlie Buckets’ life enthralled me. He had a loving family, but they were so poor that his grandparents, all four of them, lived with them and were crammed into a single bed. Then of course the mesmerizing Chocolate Factory with this reclusive confectionary genius had a contest in which all the children from around the world vied for a Golden Ticket to gain entrance into this wonder. I still remember the moment in which Charlie peeled back the wrapping of the chocolate bar. The joyous disbelief on his face was incredibly mesmerizing, powerful, exciting, and enthralling. It is this unbelievable thrill that I imagined the disciples experienced upon discovering that the reality of Jesus was unbelievably more amazing and joyful than any of them could even dare have conceived! Jesus of Nazareth is the Son of God! Which means that God truly is a God of forgiveness, love, and not to mention incredible power!! The best thing, like Charlie, that could possibly be conceived is real!! That is why we sing and say with such abandoned joy on Easter, “Jesus Christ has Risen Today!!! A-a-a-a-le lu u ia!!!” It was in this state of joyous disbelieving that they were finally able to understand Jesus’ teachings. He unfolds Old Testament prophecies, and you get the sense that this time it was sinking in. Notice that before they understood, prior to an intellectual agreement, they felt the joy of knowing the risen Christ. In fact, this joy, this encounter with the risen Christ, seems to be a pre-requisite for understanding and acceptance. First comes our encounter with God and then comes our belief. The great Swiss theologian Karl Barth describe faith as a crater. The meteor of God strikes our souls, and it leaves an impression, a powerful mark on us that cannot be easily done away with. This means that divine encounters normally precede belief. God is so much bigger than we can comprehend. We cannot find God in a mathematical proof. Perhaps not surprising then before the joy, there was doubt, and fear and a failure of faith. Jesus reminds them that He told them all of this was coming to pass! But they dared not believe Him, just like all too often we dare not trust the true promises of God. Failure to trust is the great blockade of faith. John’s gospel depicts a similar failure but in his account the disciples were huddled behind locked doors even though Jesus had already risen. They failed to have the courage to trust, which resulted in complete inaction on the part of the disciples. Doubt is part and parcel of faith. But faith might be best understood not so much as firm convictions based on evidence, but the courage to act in the midst of doubt, and in the midst of lack of convicting evidence. This is why it is called the “leap of faith” we leap into the unknown, trusting in the power of God to bring about goodness. Thus, God cannot be truly comprehended or accepted apart from a golden ticket encounter with God. The truth of God in Jesus Christ is simply too absurd. I like to think of myself as a person of science. I love to read popular books on string theory, biology, quantum mechanics, geology and more. Besides the enthralling concepts they include, I am fascinated and somewhat in awe of the brilliance of scientists who can piece together seemingly disparate facts like puzzle pieces that when properly assembled, make a clear picture. The great scientific insights almost always fly in the face of accepted views of the world, so it takes a type of intellectual integrity and courage to make these leaps. But when made they make such plain sense of the facts one is compelled to believe. But there is another aspect of this world and life in general that to me is even more compelling, that discloses even deeper truths of the world and our place in it. Mystery. Einstein himself believed the most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. In an article entitled “The Opposite of Faith isn’t Doubt, its Certainty”, Jesuit thinker, Kevin O’Brien, muses on the importance of mystery. He first acknowledges that Thomas’ insistence to touch Jesus’ hands and side as proof of His resurrection is a perfectly normal human response. Perhaps Thomas wanted to believe his friends but it sounded too desperate and deluded and so he wanted to use his senses as we all do when we seek to understand reality. But we cannot stop there. O’Brien writes: We live in a hyper-rational ...society where many assume that things not observable by physical senses and not understandable by the human mind either don’t exist or have no importance. ...But Christians are called to go beyond the limitations of our physical senses, and to experience another reality: the reality of God’s presence and active involvement in our lives. Jesus gave the disciples proof of His resurrection, and it led them to slack-jawed amazement, the “joyous disbelieving” Luke describes. This experience is the acknowledgement that even in the midst of seeing God right before us there is a mystery and wonder that is beyond our full knowing. So, without Jesus showing us His hands and His side how do we come to embrace this mystery? C.S. Lewis wrote, “I believe in Christianity as I believe the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.” We may not see the risen Lord, but we can we see all the amazing light He shines. Jesus reassures the disciples He is not a ghost by showing His hands and feet; by eating. How are we convinced that Jesus is not a ghost? Not a wispy figure of our imagination, but real, powerful, active, and alive? Ghosts don't leave footprints, but God does. Everywhere. Just like Jesus ate that piece of fish for the disciples’ benefit, He sometimes leaves footprints in strange places for ours – like home appliances. As a single mother of four boys, you can imagine that at times money was tight. At one point all five of us, me, my three brothers and mom were in schools with tuition. One particular week we weren’t sure where gas and lunch money were going to come from. It wasn't a dire situation, the next paycheck would come soon, but nonetheless money was scarce. So of course, we decided to do laundry. The first load produced a dollar bill, a few pennies, a dime, and perhaps a quarter. It must have come from my jeans I thought. The next load was about the same with a few more dollar bills. As we moved through several loads of laundry the money kept coming. By about fourth load we were checking our clothes thoroughly in advance of washing them for any spare change. It didn't matter; the money kept coming. I even considered re- washing some clothes but thought that might be pushing it! In all I think we netted about $25. In this case the money helped. Along with paying for some gas and lunches, instead of Charlie’s chocolate bar I think I bought a Reese’s Cup. But it is still a Golden Ticket mystery of God’s providence even to this day, a gift of God’s love. There are many aspects of discipleship that require hard work. But this joyous disbelief requires nothing but awe. God reaches out to us in love and sometimes walks through walls or makes money from a washing machine to give us hope. To me it's something like watching The Masters victory a few weeks ago. In this life we think we are trying to be Jon Rahm, the ultimate winner, that we are trying to win The Masters of faith, but Jesus is the victor. We are to be the Jim Nantz, the announcer, who gave the play-by-play describing the astounding feat Mr. Rahm accomplished. Remember no matter what happens, God is already won the victory!

In this Eastertide, the season in which we celebrate the power of the resurrection, we will engage in a delightful exploration of God’s word. (At least delightful for those enthralled with logical proof and science!) We will take one of the more seemingly innocuous statements in our text to its logical conclusion and discover the inevitable victory of God!! Swept up by Pentecostal fervor, Peter stands up, raises his voice, and addresses the crowd with the first Christian sermon. “Men of Judea and all who live in Jerusalem…” So powerful were his words that over three thousand converted to the faith that day. In the midst of his reverie, Peter painted amazing images, “The Spirit will pour out on all flesh… The sun shall turn to darkness… You will not abandon my soul to Hades.” But as I studied this passage none of them caught my attention. Upon the first reading I passed right by it. “God raised him up…because it was impossible for him to be held in death’s power.” Impossible? Hyperbole has become so overused these days that such statements often don’t sink in. Which of the following is truly impossible A) The sun won’t rise tomorrow B) You will win the lottery C) American Idol will be replaced by reruns of Gilligan’s Island D) Jesus could be held in death’s power? Peter was telling us that there was no way, no conceivable possibility that Jesus could remain in that tomb. We would have a better chance of waiting for Brownian motion to align all the molecules in a book on the same vector and cause it to levitate, something that will take between a googol and googolplex years. Trust me, that is a really long time. On what basis did Peter make such a bold claim? I set out to analyze the persuasiveness of his inductive argument which I and all parents do at home every week. For example, last Christmas my daughter made this argument. “There is one cookie left. I am a growing child. Dad is a little plump around the middle. Therefore, I deserve the cookie.” Her argument did not persuade me, despite the fact the premises were true. I thought my argument was much better. I responded, “Dad bought the cookies. Liz has had twice as many as him. Therefore, Dad is a generous benefactor and deserves the cookie.” However, Wendy entered the fray and denied the truth of my premises. “You did not buy the cookies. I haven’t had any and I made them. Therefore, I deserve the cookie.” Her argument, while the most persuasive, lost out. While we were debating, Matthew snuck in and ate the cookie. Now that we’re all hungry for cookies from this apocryphal story, let us analyze Peter’s argument. First, we must identify the premises. Peter asserts the following: - David said, “You will not abandon my soul to Hades.” - This statement could not have been about David since everyone knows where his tomb is. - God swore an oath to David that an ancestor would be on his throne. - Jesus is David’s ancestor. - God was with Jesus as attested by the deeds of power he did among them. - Thus, it was Jesus David was talking about. - You witnessed God raise Jesus up. - Therefore, It was impossible for Jesus to be held in death’s power. If you accept Peter’s premises his argument is persuasive. However, I believe there was much more to Peter’s assertion, so I wanted to explore the implications of his claim. If something is impossible it is because it contradicts certain facts or laws of the universe. Peter’s statement suggests that Jesus remaining in death would violate the very structure of the universe. If Jesus were to remain dead, it would mean: - that God’s image in us could be destroyed. - that God could lose. - that God’s love was not unconditional. - that evil had won. It would mean no God, thus no creation, therefore non-existence. Ergo, impossible! It was impossible, because for God only that which is good is possible and all that is good comes to pass because that would be good, let us call it the “sum of all good”, much like Feynman’s the sum of all histories. Feynman, that free-thinking physicist, asserted an hypothesis about the paths of particles called the “sum of all histories”. Take that photon of light which has just reached your eye. You may believe it went from point A – that lamp overhead, to point B –your eye, but according to Feynman, that photon has taken not just one path to your eye but every possible path to your eye. For God, not just one good thing comes to pass but all possible good takes place. For God “possible” simply means that coming future. And it was good that Jesus be raised from the dead. For all things work together for good for those who love God. Which means in turn God has something new in mind for you as well. For all things, all things work together for good. Let us look to Paul’s argument. Since it was impossible for Jesus to remain in death, if we remain in Jesus, it is impossible for us to be in death. And by following His will, by living out His love you will become one of those infinite paths of goodness God will take to bring the power of life to the world. That old saying “might makes right” is reversed. Because of the sum of all good, that which is right will always prevail thus “right makes might”. Pray to find out how He would use us to bring goodness to the world. It was impossible because it is the nature of love that it cannot be destroyed. This means for you and me two thousand years down the road of time this event can bring life, true life, to this dying evil world with the power of love. Think about the stories of martyrs of the faith who even in death continue to bring life to the church. That ancient theologian, Tertullian, wrote, “The blood of the martyr is the seed of the church.” Think about the power of life, the deaths of Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Martin Luther King. Perpetua was martyred in 203 A.D. yet still today Christians are inspired by her courage to remain steadfast in the faith. Before her execution, her father tried to convince her to renounce the faith. She replied: Father, said I, “Do you see (for examples) this vessel lying, a pitcher or whatsoever it may be?” And he said, “I see it.” And I said to him, “Can it be called by any other name than that which it is?” And he answered, “No.” So can I call myself nought other than that which I am, a Christian. Through these deaths, the seeds of their lives grew even stronger. That is the power of life that in the face of its greatest enemy, it becomes strongest. It would be impossible because Jesus is life. Jesus said, “I am the way the truth and the life”. Through Jesus all things were created. Jesus encapsulates the very spark of life which will and must break through. Despite the evidence of endless cubic miles of lifeless space, despite the fact that the only life we know of in this universe relies on a razor thin crust of soil, despite the force of death and decay that takes every human life, it was impossible because life is stronger than death! Picture the moss and vine that swallow dead stone over centuries with life. Jesus is the force of life that over time will swallow all death with his life-giving power. South Africa was long entrenched in Apartheid. Last week we heard of Desmond Tutu’s courage for Christ.This week we reflect on his wisdom. Despite the reality of murder and death in the world, and especially in South Africa, even back in 1955 Archbishop Desmond Tutu believed in this principle. Goodness is stronger than evil; Love is stronger than hate; Light is stronger than darkness; Life is stronger than death; Victory is ours through God who loves us. Tutu is a prime example of someone stepping into the eddy of God’s will and being drawn to a new day and the breaking through of goodness and life. From Peter’s statement we have concluded: - That evil will lose. - That life is stronger than death. - The all possible good comes to pass. - That love triumphs all. - That the world will be restored, reconciled, redeemed. That is the power of the resurrection: the power of the source of life, Jesus Christ. All these wonderful truths deduced from the seemingly simple statement, “It was impossible for Jesus to be held in death’s power.” Isn’t theology grand! Amen.

Always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies. II Corinthians 4:10 Jesus Christ has risen! (He has risen indeed)! As we recite these ancient words of Easter greeting, we mean many different things. Some of you say these words with utter conviction that Jesus bodily rose 2,000 years ago, and others of you are not so sure, while others of you are convinced that it did not happen. But regardless, we all find ourselves here this morning and I am convinced it is something more than nostalgia, vain hope, and uplifting music. We are all searching. For meaning, for consolation, for fellowship, for love, for hope. Hope in this world. And we are here because we want to know what did Mary Magdalene see when she looked into the face of this Jesus? When she grasped his feet and proclaimed, “My Lord and my God!” And what did Peter, and the other disciples, and the seventy and more, who are claimed to see the resurrected Lord. We want to know because each of us has a hole. A hole in our heart and in our soul, a void, a fracture. I know because I have read these prayer concerns you share on Ash Wednesday. Your heartache, your fears, your worries, your pain. And as successful as any of us are, we still have this hole and we know when people met Jesus, He filled that hole with such love, power, truth and compassion that they left feeling as if in the face of Christ they had seen the face of God. People saw in the face of Jesus the power, truth, and love of God, and as they came to know Him, they came to know more God. Not more about God, but more God. That is what the human soul hungers for. And Jesus’ presence was the bread of heaven to these hungry souls. More people have come to see and believe in a God of love, hope, and mercy through this Jesus of Nazareth than anyone or anything in all of history. And this is what we want today. To know and see the presence of God. This is the purpose of our faith. It is not to ascend to heaven. The stairway to heaven has become a wrestling match of sorts within Christianity and the religious world in general. Many proclaim exclusive doctrinal certitude that you need to be in my religious camp if you want to know the way and get to the good place. Wars have been fought. Children disowned. Kingdoms toppled. But Heaven is no more the goal of faith than sitting in the Lincoln Center is the goal of opera. We go to the Lincoln Center to hear the music; we go to heaven to experience the presence of God. And so, the end of faith is not a place but a presence. And it comes not through doctrine but through an honest, open search. It was the way Jesus lived, the depth of His compassion, His willingness to sacrifice, His love for the outcast, indeed for everyone. But it was also what they saw in His face when He looked in theirs. He saw them as children of God. That each of infinite value, unique, beautiful,and wonderful. This is why Mary grabbed His feet, to know that love. Zacchaeus the outcast, Peter the fumbler, the doubting fearful father, the woman with the 12-year disease, and so many more became whole in body, mind, and spirit, and left praising God. But the good news is we don’t have to wait until heaven to see God. God sightings are not just for those 2,000 years ago. Jesus showed the disciples and us that people can see and know His presence in our face as well. I have spoken to people throughout this country and indeed this planet. And what the Bible tells us has proven to be true again and again. We are the body of Christ. And even if our faith is shaky, when we show others His love, they see His face in ours. And they praise God as they finding healing and hope. Thus, we climb the stairway to heaven step by step by being and seeing the face of Christ. He can be seen in the eyes of an enemy through a figure larger than life. Listen to this description of Nobel Peace Prize winner, Archbishop Desmond Tutu: I grew up in South Africa during Apartheid… He stood up time and again against the brutality and repression of the Apartheid government, and spoke up for peace, equality and freedom, at a time when doing so could lead to a person being tortured and murdered by the state. He has spent his life working for peace in our beautiful country. Once, he jumped into the middle of a lynch mob and saved a person who the crowd believed was a police informant from being burned and stoned to death. He can be seen in the face of a random stranger on the street. One very practical and analytical pastor told me she experienced God in the face of a homeless man, after the death of her husband. I received a holy nudge… I teach people not to give money on the street… I saw a guy… with a thin blanket shivering… I see this guy and he reminds me of my husband. And so, I walk up to him and said are you hungry; he wanted a biscuit and coffee; I looked at him; in some ways he reminds me of my husband… I am a sucker for blue eyes… I had peace knowing that at least in part God put him there for me. His face can be seen in a heroic nurse who travels the countryside. I was with church members visiting a deeply impoverished neighborhood. They showed me a picture. It was of a young boy, utterly emaciated, on the verge of death; surely from that picture he was going to die at any moment; and his parents faces showed the sorrow they felt at knowing no hope. But God works wonders. And we entered those doors it was to see a delightfully plump young boy and his parents who faces beamed. They beamed because Cora from Canada was there. She was the face of God to them; She is a nurse and discovered their boy was diabetic and she got electricity, a refrigerator and a supply of insulin that brought him back from a certain death. He can be seen in the face of an English professor. Some have gifts they don’t see as divine because it is simply what they do in daily life. One Charleston college professor was caught off guard when a fellow church member asked him to help her write her obituary. She was dying and did not know him or the pastor of the church very well at all. The request was a surprise, not only because he had no interactions with her, but he had never done anything like this in his life. He presumed she asked because he taught English. During the visit they came to know one another, and indeed it was clear she had only a few days left. They decided not only to write the obituary but plan her funeral as well. Again, something he had never done. Though she was not a regular attender it became clear that she could use a visit from the pastor and a final communion as well. The pastor, professor and another elder came to her room and together they shared the sacred meal. At the end she lifted her hands and with enthusiasm and clarity beyond her physical condition she declared, “I am ready to go!” And a few hours later she died. He can be seen in the eyes of your mother. One daughter of a church member was lying with her mother as she died. She had been catatonic for years. Never spoke a word nor moved a muscle on her own. She asked me to come over the pray for her mother. She explained she was an atheist, but her mother would have wanted someone from the church to come and pray. We had a nice visit, I offered to pray and that was it; or so I thought. A few days later her daughter called to let me know she had passed away. But she was also shaken beyond the loss. I could hear in her voice and so I asked. “I have been an atheist ever since college. But what happened to my mother has me wondering. Her breathing was growing infrequent. Several times a minute. Twice a minute. Then a full minute with no breath. And then it happened. She took a lung full of air, and my mother who has not spoken or moved a muscle in years sat straight up in bed, pointing of in the distance; her face which never had any expression suddenly was filled with peace, and she laid down and died. I think she might have seen God. I think so as well. We may have different convictions, but we are all here to know the power and the presence of God. Jesus Christ is alive. Yes, He reigns in heaven, but He is alive in all the faces of those willing to risk as He did in order to bring hope, faith and life. Jesus Christ has risen! (He has risen indeed!) Amen.