Only the Right Ending Makes for a Proper Beginning

The scripture of the day is Luke 24:1-12.

We just read the gospel account of Easter morning. Imagine if it had gone like this instead: It's early on a Sunday morning. Women trudge through a cemetery in the half-light, toting spices. They are going to anoint the body of their beloved leader. One of them realizes that they cannot move the millstone-like door. As they discuss this, they come upon an empty tomb. They are surprised. They see a young man, who tells them that Jesus is not there. “See, the place where they laid him,” he says. And then he points to a nearby tomb where the stone is in place and a group of Roman soldiers stand guard. Somehow the women miss this and totally misunderstand that they've made an obvious mistake. Frightened by the gardener, they run off, tell the disciples, who all make the very same mistake about the tomb's location. None of them think to consult Joseph of Arimathea, the tomb's owner, who could set them straight. Almost immediately the disciples, grieving and sleepless, start hallucinating appearances by Jesus—not one of them but all 11 disciples. They do this several times over 40 days. Even James starts hallucinating that he is seeing his brother Jesus. Massively deluded, the band spreads the word and doesn't stop despite the fact that it gets most of them killed.

A pretty lousy ending to the gospel, huh? But that's the supposedly rational alternative to the accounts we have in the gospels and in Paul's first letter to the Corinthians. If you eliminate the miraculous from the Easter story, you have to arrive at something like that, as incredibly improbable and easily correctable by those involved as it sounds.

Oh, there are variations. The once bestselling book, The Passover Plot, speculated that Jesus engineered his resurrection. Supposedly, he took a drug that made him appear to be dead. Perhaps it was administered by a co-conspirator in the sponge of sour, vinegary wine raised to Jesus' lips after he said, “I thirst.” Somehow Jesus was able to imbibe enough of this drug to suppress his respirations and heartbeat so that he seemed dead but not so much as to actually kill him, despite the fact that he was suffering from blood loss, respiratory distress and the trauma of being flogged, crucified and stabbed with a spear. In the tomb, Jesus is revived with the aid of the same co-conspirator. Somehow, though being a candidate for immediate admission to the E.R. and extended ICU care, this maimed man convinces the disciples that he is the victor over death and is able to travel to Galilee and back over a period of 40 days without collapsing from his severe trauma and succumbing to the infection of his many open wounds.

Frankly, as a retired nurse, and someone who survived a near fatal car wreck, and who spent 40 days in the hospital and an additional 100 days in a rehabilitation center, I find this less believable than what we are told in the gospel. (By the way, the author never names the drug, probably because no one has ever heard of such a miraculous substance. Even Agatha Christie, who acquired a formidable knowledge of drugs through her wartime nursing experience, would not have concocted such an implausible solution to a mystery, based on a convenient but wholly fictitious chemical.)

A variant of this theory has Jesus using a form of yoga to suppress his vital signs. It is true that people using meditative techniques can slow their heartbeat and breathing, though not to the extent where they are undetectable. And by using self-hypnosis, some Eastern mystics can endure having needles thrust through their tongues or hooks through their skin—under controlled circumstances. But as far as I know, no one has attempted to stay in a trance while being flayed with a cat o' nine tails, beaten, crucified and stabbed in the heart with an unsterilized spearhead. And let's not forget being wrapped like a mummy and being left unattended in a rock tomb for over 36 hours, sealed behind a stone too massive to be moved by 3 or 4 women. Perhaps this could be the premise of the next “reality” series, a kind of Fear Factor meets Jackass.

Or maybe Jesus did die. In this theory, Thomas was nicknamed “the twin” because he closely resembled Jesus. And yet, despite living with them for 3 ½ years, the disciples could still not tell the two apart. Then, after Jesus' death, they continually confused him with their dead leader. And apparently Thomas not only looked like Jesus but also sounded and moved like him as well. But then Thomas would not be merely a doubter but the deliberate perpetrator of a hoax. He didn't even call it off when his colleagues, whom he meant to inspire, started getting themselves executed for proclaiming his deception. So obviously he was not really their friend. I would love to know how Thomas engineered his famous post-resurrection meeting between himself and Jesus. At least Superman could use his superspeed to appear to meet his alter ego, Clark Kent. Perhaps there was yet another doppelganger and Thomas should have been called “the triplet.”

The Muslim theory is not only novel but incorporates poetic justice. They believe that Jesus was never crucified but through a monumental screw up, the authorities crucified Judas instead. I guess that official embarrassment at the clerical error kept them from announcing the mixup. So they preferred to stay silent and let the Christian lie spread throughout the empire.

It is interesting that the earliest attempts to rationalize the resurrection do not deny Jesus' death or the fact that his tomb was empty. Medical knowledge may not have been as advanced as it is in the 21^st century but the Romans had been crucifying thousands of people long enough to know how to do it right. We have Roman accounts of people removed from crosses while alive and they usually died anyway. In fact, when Pilate receives the request of Joseph of Arimathea for Jesus' body, he doesn't release it until he has a soldier confirm Christ's death in the most effective manner possible: a spear thrust to the heart.

And if the tomb wasn't empty, why didn't the authorities simply produce the body? Were they tough enough to beat a man into raw meat but too squeamish to touch his corpse? In fact, Jesus' burial was unusual because the bodies of the crucified were generally left to rot or were thrown into the city garbage dump as carrion for the dogs and birds. Joseph of Arimathea must have been very influencial to get the body from Pilate. And if there was a guard, whether Jewish or Roman, at the site, the leaders would know where Jesus was buried. So why not hold an open tomb day for all who had doubts that he was still dead?

The earliest skeptics instead agreed that the tomb was empty but suggested that the body was stolen. How the disciples got past the guard is an interesting question. In fact, in view of the disciples' cowardly behavior at the time of Jesus' arrest, the whole idea of them taking on professional soldiers to reclaim his body is questionable. But the biggest quandary is why? Why engineer a fake resurrection?

Not for money; that's for sure. The disciples got whipped, stoned, imprisoned and martyred for their beliefs but nobody ever said they got rich.

For grins? John Barrymore's Hollywood drinking buddies supposedly stole his body from the funeral home for an impromptu Irish wake but generally speaking, mourners aren't ones for playing pranks. And the disciples were of a different moral mindset than W.C. Fields and his friends.

For morale? But for whose, if the disciples knew it was a hoax? What fueled Christianity was the belief that Jesus was the Messiah and that his claim was vindicated by his resurrection. When the Spanish general El Cid was killed, an old romance says that his men strapped his armored body into his saddle and let his horse lead them into battle as a bit of psychological warfare. But the ruse only worked once and was meant to confuse his enemies, not to convince his followers. The disciples didn't use Jesus as a figurehead in an effort to overthrow Rome or even the temple leadership. In fact, the Christian movement saw the Messiah in a totally different way than he was previously conceived in popular thought. Rather than a religious/political/military figure, they saw the Messiah as the Lord come to live as one of us, to die as a sacrifice for our sins, and to rise again, inaugurating the kingdom of God as a community of the Spirit that crossed political, ethnic and class barriers. The earliest Christians were the first to envision a separation between church and state.

If Jesus didn't die and rise again, how is it that, of all the messianic movements of that time period, this one is still growing worldwide 2 millennia later? As respected scholar N.T. Wright points out, when the leaders of the other messianic movements were executed, their followers, if they weren't also killed, either joined another movement or returned to ordinary life, sadder but wiser. Only Jesus' students insisted that their leader and rabbi was resurrected. And by resurrected, they did not mean that he is still with them in memory or in a New-Age, moral-example way. By resurrection, they meant exactly what their contemporaries, the Pharisees, meant: a total restoration and integration of body, mind, and spirit, the entire person alive again.

But even in this, there was a new element. Jews believed in a general resurrection of all the dead at the end of the present evil age. Before Jesus, nobody conceived of an individual resurrection. That's why Paul calls Jesus “the first fruits of those who have fallen asleep.” (1 Corinthians 15:20) He was recalling how the earliest part of the harvest was dedicated to God. Jesus is the pioneer of resurrection, opening the door of this possibility to all who follow him.

It was trust in this promise, anchored by the fact that Jesus had been raised, that gave his disciples the courage to spread the good news in the face of persecution and death. It was this faith that enabled Christians to brave torture in imperial prisons, wild beasts in the colossium, shipwrecks and pirates on missionary voyages, and bandits and hostile tribes beyond the borders of the known world. This is the faith that drove Patrick to return to the land of his kidnapping and slavery to confront the druids and evangelize the Irish. This is the faith that led the Irish to re-evangelize barbarian Europe bringing the light of learning and Christian hope to what have been called the Dark Ages. This is the faith that caused Francis of Assisi to abandon his wealth and dreams of military glory for a life of poverty, preaching and service. It is this faith that led Elizabeth Elliott to search out the tribe that killed her missionary husband and, by telling them of God's love and forgiveness, experience their transformation into her brothers and sisters in Christ. It is this faith that brought Mother Teresa out of her native Yugoslavia to India to serve the sick and dying in an overwhelmingly non-Christian culture. It is this faith that still calls Christians to risk their earthly lives in areas like Malaysia, China and Iraq. It is this faith that makes us call the day of Christ's death Good Friday. It is this faith that turns our Eucharist not into a sad remembrance of Jesus' death but a joyous celebration of his self-sacrifice, a participation in his resurrected life and a foretaste of his kingdom feast.

I am a big Sherlock Holmes fan and he famously said that when you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. Skeptics claim that resurrection is impossible but all the non-supernatural explanations pile improbability upon improbability to the point where Greek and Roman expert Michael Grant said that while as an historian he could not say that Jesus was bodily resurrected, he found it hard to discover any other adequate explanation for the fact that this faith in a first century Jewish workman who was executed in the most shameful way possible could take over the entire Roman Empire in just 300 years. And such a bleak ending as Jesus' horrible death is extremely unlikely to lead to the beginning of a faith which has 2.6 billion adherents worldwide today and shows no sign of flagging 2000 years later.

Resurrection is only impossible if you eliminate God a priori, simply asserting his non-existence and ignoring the logical rule that you can't prove a negative. If God does exist, however, then not only is Jesus' resurrection a possibility, it is a better explanation than those convoluted arguments that assume absolutely everyone involved the event, both his disciples and their opponents, was unutterably stupid—or else had access to magical drugs and a Star Trek level of medical care to rehabilitate a nearly dead man.

The ending that makes more sense is the one in the gospels. In the pre-dawn hours of a certain Sunday, a group of soldiers, weary and chilled to the bone, stand sullenly in a cemetery. Suddenly one of the battle-hardened team screams in terror. They turn to see some thing approaching them. It may have appeared as a confusion of fire, wings, eyes and wheels within wheels, as dazzling as lightning. They freeze in horror as the ball of energy resolves itself into human form and approaches the tomb. The apparition extends a fiery finger towards the massive door. At his touch, the earth spasms and the stone rockets back along its carved groove. As the angel enters the tomb, the guards regain voluntary control of their limbs and beat a hasty and ragged retreat from the graveyard.

A small group of women carrying jars start out from inside the city in the dark and see the sky lighten and the sun rise as they arrive at the tomb outside the city walls. As they see the stone has been moved, their talk ceases and their mouths hang open, unconsciously mirroring the gaping tomb. Mary Magdalen summons her courage and looks inside. She, who struggled with her demons until Jesus freed her, quails at the sight of the angel. As he tells her that Jesus is not there, she backs out of the tomb only to confront another angel atop the stone, voicing the same news to her friends. “He is not here. He is risen.” Terrified, the women run back to the city and to the sanctuary of the upper room where the disciples are hiding.

Though initially skeptical, Peter and the beloved disciple run to the tomb, examine the still wrapped but empty grave clothes, and leave, bewildered but hopeful. Mary returns to the tomb, still unable to believe that this isn't some cruel trick. When she hears Jesus, she doesn't realize at first that it is him. Then she wipes her teary eyes and becomes the first to see the risen Christ. Next he appears to Peter, to the men on the way to Emmaus, the ten and then to Thomas. James learns that his brother wasn't crazy in very dramatic fashion. 25 years later, Paul writes that nearly 500 witnesses to the resurrection are still alive, including himself. Today billions of lives over thousands of years have been changed by the fact that Jesus Christ has risen from the dead. That is the foundation of our faith and the essence of our hope.

The Lord is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

This sermon was first preached on April 11, 2004. It has been revised and updated.

Why Do We Call It Good Friday?

The scripture of the day is John 18:1-19:42.

In various countries, today is called the Day of Preparation, Day of the Lord's Passion, the Passion of the Cross, and Long Friday. The Eastern Orthodox call it Great Friday. Those make sense. But in English-speaking countries, it's called Good Friday. And the question is, in view of the great evil done to our Lord this day, why do we call it good?

Jesus died on the Friday we are remembering. But it wasn't a “go to sleep and die in bed after a long life” kind of death. It was a “get flogged with a cat o' nine tails within an inch of your life, carry a heavy piece of wood on your shoulders, get stripped naked in public, have your hands and feet nailed to a cross and hang there until a combination of blood loss, shock and asphyxiation kills you” kind of death. In what way is that good?

The usual explanation is that out of Jesus' death on the cross come benefits for us: forgiveness of sins, reconciliation with God and eternal life. (1 Corinthians 15:3; 2 Corinthians 5:19; 2 Timothy 1:10; Hebrews 2:9) Those are great and good benefits indeed. But they were not obvious on the Friday that he died. As the disciples on their way to Emmaus said of Jesus, “But we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel.” (Luke 24:21) Notice the past tense: “...we had hoped...” In their eyes that hope died on the cross with Jesus. It was only the resurrection that allowed them to see his horrible, humiliating death as something good and even glorious.

We can indeed see goodness coming from what Jesus did. But I think we can see goodness in what Jesus did.

We often think of being good as synonymous with being nice or decent. Someone who is sympathetic and listens to others, or does little things like remembering birthdays, is often considered a good person. And I'm not saying that such people aren't really good. They are. But, let's face it, there are so many people constantly doing terrible things that simply not being a jerk can make people think you are a good person. We have lowered the bar on what is good behavior in reaction to the frequency with which we see bad behavior.

But to say that merely not being rude or egregiously selfish is good is to diminish the concept of goodness to the point where merely being passive is sufficient for a person to be seen as moral. It reminds me of the post on Facebook that says something like “Kevin sees a post he doesn't agree with. Kevin doesn't get into a big argument in the comments section. Kevin just keeps scrolling past it. Be like Kevin.” Yes, it would be nice if people didn't make a big deal every time they see something on the internet they don't like. But that doesn't mean that Kevin is a saint. He may just be apathetic. In fact, if you saw something that said “Hitler was right about everything,” and had no reaction to it, it could be that you simply don't care that a Nazi posted on your feed. Or, it could mean you secretly agree. The Nazis executed not only 6 million Jews but an additional 5 to 7 million non-Jews like disabled persons, sick children, gypsies, Slavs, Poles, gays, priests, and pastors who didn't agree with them. How many of those people could the Nazis have killed if the vast majority of Germans had actively resisted what their government was doing rather than just ignore the mass murder? As the Rev. Charles F. Aked said, “...for evil men to accomplish their purpose it is only necessary that good men should do nothing.”

There were people who did actively work against the Nazi policy of killing people merely for what they were. Diplomats like Chiune Sugihara from Japan and Raoul Wallenberg from Sweden provided official papers that put Jews in Nazi-occupied areas under the protection of their governments. Officials of the Nazi-occupied country of Denmark managed to ferry 7200 Jews to neutral Sweden when notified that they were going to be rounded up and shipped to concentration camps. When the mayor of the Greek island of Zakynthos was ordered to give the Nazis a list of the Jews there, Bishop Christostomos presented a list with only two names: his and the mayor's. Meanwhile the island's residents hid and saved 275 Jews. Christians like Corrie ten Boom and her family in Holland, the Catholic priests and nuns of the monasteries in the Italian town of Assisi, Pastor Andre Trocme and his French village of La Chambon-sur-Lignon, Eastern Orthodox nun Mother Maria Skobtsova and many others hid Jews or helped them escape. Many of these protectors of the lives of others paid for what they did with their own lives. They weren't good people in the sense of being nice and polite and inoffensive. They were Good with a capital G.

For the Christians who did this, the inspiration for these feats of self-sacrifice was Jesus, who gave his life to save us. Because they saw what he did as the very definition of goodness. They went above and beyond what most people would consider good behavior because Jesus did. They realized that when Jesus said, “If anyone wants to become my follower, he must deny himself, take up his cross daily and follow me,” he meant it. (Luke 9:23) He was serious when he said we must follow his way of love even if it leads to our death. They didn't just pay him lip service. They really believed him and their faith led to deeds most of us cannot imagine putting ourselves on the line for.

This deserves to be called Good Friday because it reveals what goodness truly is. It is the goodness of God, who essentially took on a suicide mission by entering his creation and becoming one of us though he knew that we would find his goodness intolerable and kill him as we have his prophets.

And even on the cross Jesus asked forgiveness for his executioners, assured a condemned man who had repented that he would be with him in paradise and made provisions for his widowed mother's care while feeling abandoned by God. Were he merely a man this would be regarded as remarkably noble and heroic. But knowing that he is also divine reveals the unimaginable grace that flows from the heart of the God who is love. (Luke 23:34-43; John 19:26-27; Mark 15:34; 1 John 4:8)

On Good Friday we see the horror of the cross, something we humans created to make the death of others more terrible and painful and humiliating. And yet we also see the unfathomable goodness and love and humility of the God who chose to live and die as one of us. This is the God who calls us to use the gifts he has given us to help and heal rather than to harm. This is the God who can say with first hand experience, “In this world you will have trouble and suffering, but take courage—I have conquered the world.” (John 16:33) This is the God in whose image we all were created. This is the God who has redeemed us. This is the God who indwells us. This is the God who has chosen us to follow him, denying ourselves, shouldering our crosses, and willingly going through hell if need be, knowing that he will never leave us or forsake us, in order to reach on the other side the paradise of his eternal loving presence.

Feet First

The scripture referred to is John 13:1-17, 31b-35.

If you knew that this was your last night, what would you do? Cry? Go out and get drunk? Call up an old love? Go to church? Eat all your favorite foods? Or would you gather your friends together and have a party? That last option is what Jesus did. The Last Supper was a farewell party of sorts. And what would you do at the party? Sit around and let your friends tell you what a great person you were? Or would you clean everyone's shoes?

The task of cleaning people's feet was the job of a slave. The roads of Jesus' day were dusty when dry, muddy when wet. Animals relieved themselves as they walked the streets. And there were no such things as sewers or garbage pickup. A pair of sandals didn't protect you from what you walked through. So in a rich household there was a jar of water by the door and a slave to wash people's feet before they entered. Poor people washed their own feet, of course. In today's gospel, we read how Jesus stripped off his outer garment, wrapped a towel around his waist and washed the muck off of his disciples' feet. Why?

In Luke's account, the disciples have been arguing about which of them is the greatest. This was not the first time they did this. Perhaps this is Jesus' response, a demonstration of how the values of the kingdom of God are different from those of the world. The leader of all is the servant of all. This is Jesus' last chance to impress upon his disciples the unusual way in which the kingdom works before he goes to the cross.

So he acts as a slave. But this isn't just an act. When Peter protests that Jesus will never wash his feet, Jesus says, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.” Letting Jesus wash his feet wasn't optional; it was mandatory. It's part of being Christian.

And think about this: normally a person's feet were washed before entering a rich man's domain. What other washing do we undergo as an entrance rite? Baptism. Perhaps Jesus is deliberately drawing a parallel between the two. We think of baptisms as something we do so God will forgive our sins. But really it is a cleansing God does to us so that we can enter his kingdom. If we want to be part of his kingdom, we must reveal to God the most disgusting and dirty parts of ourselves and let him go to work on them. It's like showing the doctor an ugly sore or a misshapen mole or a discolored toenail. The Divine Physician will not work on what we hide from him—or hide from ourselves. He wants our consent. For every part of us to be cleansed, they must be offered.

I hesitate to use this example but here goes. There was a “reality” series called Extreme Makeover. In order to get the plastic surgery and everything else the series offered, people had to be brutally frank about their defects. They not only had to reveal these things to the doctors and physical trainers and other experts, but to millions of viewers as well. In return, they were transformed. And the final results could be amazing. I once caught the end of an episode of The Swan and the women barely resembled what they looked like before. What made me hesitate to use this as an example is that all of the changes were external and it was obvious that these women had extremely poor self-esteem. One woman, who ended up looking a bit like Sarah Michelle Geller, still had problems despite the therapy she had been given. This reminds me of studies that show that after a few months lottery winners end up no happier (or sadder) than they were before they hit the jackpot. We've all heard of actresses and supermodels who deep down cannot see the beauty in themselves that others see, and who loathe themselves so much that they self-destruct. This kind of beauty is truly only skin-deep.

What is missing is the spiritual dimension. While therapy is important, ultimately all it can do is push you towards accepting yourself. But the problem may be deeper. A study found that depressed people actually saw themselves fairly accurately, much more so than happy people. Clinical, as opposed to situational, depression is a mood disorder and it can exist without the depressed person having a delusional assessment of him- or herself. One part of the The Swan that haunted me was that one of the contestants saw herself as “just so average.” And she was right. She was neither grotesque nor ravishing. She was on the pleasant side of average. But for her, being normal was not enough. She had to be extraordinary. And I wondered how long it would take her to find flaws in her new face and physique.

But the other extreme is not the solution. Studies have shown that bullies, far from having low self-esteem problems, are usually pretty satisfied with themselves. They don't see any of their personal flaws. So while acceptance might be a step towards having better mental health, it is not the final step. Ultimately we must find a way to accept ourselves without being either smug or blind to our faults. This comes from accepting God's love.

God loves us in spite of our faults. He deems us worth dying for. So we could not be more precious to him. And because he is God, his assessment of us is accurate. Our self-worth does not depend on our own faulty perceptions of ourselves nor on those of others. We are lovable because God says we are. In fact, God in Christ demonstrates how much he loves us through his self-sacrifice.

As Paul reminds us in Romans 5:7-8, it is rare for someone to die for a good man but Jesus died for us while we were still sinners. God doesn't expect us to get all fixed up before coming to him. We can come as we are. We needn't, so to speak, clean up the house before the cleaning lady arrives.

As Anne Lamott says, God loves us as we are but he loves us too much to leave us that way. He wants to make us better. That same woman who felt that to be average was to be lacking in some way revealed where this feeling came from. When she was in elementary school, her father told her teacher not to expect too much from her. That cut her to the quick. Studies show that children, students and even adults tend to live up or down to the expectations we have of them. High expectations are actually good for a person's self-esteem, provided those expectations aren't ridiculous.

God has high expectations. He created us in his image. He gives us talents and abilities. He gives us roles and principles to live up to. And any progress we make pleases him. But he expects us to keep progressing. When we fail, he forgives us and helps us start over. God does not give up on us and he expects us not to give up either.

Jesus also expects us to be like him. We call this Maundy Thursday because Jesus mandates or commands that we love one another as he loves us. Jesus knew that he was going back to the Father soon. He knew that eventually the disciples must carry on his mission. So he promises them and us the Holy Spirit who empowered him, because now we are to take on the role of acting out God's love on earth. We are to proclaim the good news of God's love with our lips and with our lives.

We leave this life feet first, so to speak, on a stretcher or a gurney. We enter the new life feet first as well—by stepping out in faith. It all comes down to trust—trusting Jesus enough to stop hiding our dirty feet, trusting him to clean us up so that we can enter the domain of the forgiven, trusting him enough to strip down for service, trusting him enough to open ourselves to rejection and to getting kicked in the teeth and to getting our hands dirty while helping others. We do it because he'd do the same for us. Indeed, he already has.

This sermon was originally preached on 4-8-04. It has been updated and revised.

Crossroads

It was a glorious spring day in Jerusalem. As the early morning sun rose behind the temple, glinting off its gold and making its white marble walls dazzling, the father and the 2 boys were overwhelmed by its beauty. What a perfect start to the climax of their visit to the holy city.

It was the first time for them all. Growing up in the Jewish community of Cyrene, Simon had heard over and over of the promised land. Every year at Passover, they would conclude the seder by saying, “Next year in Jerusalem.” But in the 300 years since his family had been transplanted there by Ptolemy Sotor, none of them had ever managed to make the trip back to their homeland. Simon had smarted over that. The Jewish community in Cyrene, the Roman capital of the province just west of Egypt, was large and influential. He himself had sent contributions to the Cyrenean synagogue in Jerusalem. Tomorrow his family would be worshiping there. And tonight they would celebrate the Passover in the city of David.

Simon looked down at his boys. They would remember this all their lives. Alexander, his elder son, was taking his role of leading the lamb seriously, fiercely protecting it from the jostling crowd. The lamb must be unblemished when it was sacrificed. Rufus however was dubious about the whole affair. He was petting its flanks morosely. Seeing his father's gaze, the younger boy said, “Why do we have to kill Wooly?”

Oh, no, thought Simon, he's given it a name, This will be harder than ever. “Because God commanded Moses that each family must kill a lamb and wipe its blood on the doorframes of the house. That way when the angel of death visited the Egyptians, he would spare our firstborn.”

Rufus looked at his older brother for a moment and said, “I'd rather have Wooly.” Alexander shot his sibling a venomous look and pulled the lamb's tether harder.

“No, you wouldn't,” said Simon. “Besides, in a way, the lamb's blood was the price of our freedom. God freed us from our slavery to the Egyptians that night.”

“Why didn't he free us from the Romans?” said the boy sullenly.

Simon stiffened. Looking about in what he hoped was a casual way, he bent down and talked in a low but distinct voice to the boy.

“Don't mention the Romans again. You hear me? They know what Passover is about and they will kill anyone who says anything bad about the troops or the emperor. Understand?”

The boy, eyes large with fright over his father's sudden change in demeanor, nodded slightly. The father stood and strode off.

Simon regretted scaring his son but he might as well learn that a Jew cannot be too careful. Still, Rufus' question was valid. Why did God let his people come under the thumb of this blasphemous empire? It was hard to be a Jew in a Gentile city, trying to protect his children from the idolatry and immorality of that place. But here in Jerusalem, their own capital, Jews had to mute their celebration of freedom. Why?

As if reading his mind, Alexander said, “Father, why aren't we free from...you know?”

Simon sighed. He knew what his rabbi would say: sin. If all of us Jews just observed God's law, God would vindicate his people. But who was so perfect as to observe every one of the Torah's 613 laws? Anyway, now was not the time to get into all of that. So Simon did something that found irritating about his own father, something he swore he would never do to his own sons: he would give them a non-answer just to shut them up. In fact he would give them the same answer that his rabbi would use whenever asked a really tough question. Simon said, “We will find out when the Messiah comes.”

“When will that be?” shot back Rufus.

“When God feels the time is right. Look, boys, this isn't the time or the place to discuss this. Remember what I just said?”

And they fell silent, prompting a quick prayer of thanks from their father.

The crowd got larger and their pace through the narrow streets got slower. Simon expected this. They were approaching the temple and people from all over the city would be converging on it. Still, when the crowd before him began to reverse itself and push backward, Simon started to get irritated as he tried to keep the boys near him. Simon shouted over the hubbub, “What's happening?”

“A procession,” said a man crushing up against him. A thought hit Simon. He hoped it wasn't that Galilean who had made such a fuss entering the city a week ago. He and the boys were touring Jerusalem when they ran into a parade of people waving palms and throwing their outer garments on the ground, so that this man on a donkey could ride by. Everyone was singing and dancing. His kids wanted to join in. But he had been warned by a pilgrim about how brutally the Romans put down riots here and he wanted no part of that. He did hear the man later, teaching in the temple. He'd like what he heard but the man was a troublemaker by all accounts. Simon hated trouble. If this fellow was staging another demonstration today, the Day of Preparation, that might bring the Romans down on them all right now. Simon felt uneasy.

So it was with an odd kind of relief that he saw the long spears and gleaming helmets of the Roman soldiers bobbing through the crowd. That's right, he thought. The Antonia fortress is on this side of the temple. The Roman governor was probably sending out a military parade as a show of force just before the holy days to dissuade any would-be revolutionaries. He just hoped it wouldn't take too long. They had to get to the temple and back home with the sacrificed lamb before the Sabbath started this evening.

As the procession got closer, the crowd parted and pressed against the buildings on both sides. Alexander swept the lamb up into his arms to keep it from getting trampled. Rufus helpfully lifted its hindquarters. That's when Simon noticed that there were only a handful of soldiers and the one in front was carrying a plaque on his spear. It was written in Aramaic, Latin and Greek but between the swaying of the sign and the jostling of the crowd, Simon couldn't read it. But an instant later, he discovered what was coming.

The soldiers marched in a square formation around three men stumbling under the weight of beams of wood, laid across their shoulders and tied to their arms. Oh, my God. The poor wretches were going to be crucified.

Simon instinctively clutched his children close to him and tried to cover their eyes with his hands. But they struggled to see. And when they had, they tried to squeeze back behind his legs. He could not take his eyes off of one of the condemned, a wreck of a man who teetered towards them. Simon had seen victims of official justice and unofficial vengeance before. He had never seen anyone so abused in his life.

His face was swollen from blows and appeared unnaturally large. Around his head was some sort of wreath, such as an athlete might wear. But this was no laurel branch but something with thorns. Blood ran down his face from his grotesque head gear as well as down his sleeves and his legs from hidden wounds. As he lurched towards Simon, the Cyrenean flinched involuntarily.

To Simon's horror, the condemned man began to topple just in front of him and his children. With his arms tied to the crossbeam, the prisoner could not stop his fall and landed face-first on the pavement. He did not move and Simon thought for a moment that he had died.

The soldiers prodded their charge with their spears and the man shuddered. They ordered him to get up and the man tried using just his legs and failed. Looking exasperated, the ranking officer began to scan the crowd, his spear acting as a pointer. People shrank from his gaze more than from his weapon. The circling spear stopped at Simon, who was, after all, closest to the prone man. The officer slapped the flat of the blade on Simon's shoulder and said, “You! Take up his cross!”

Simon realized he must respond immediately. “Sir, I have my children with me...” The next thing he knew, Simon was sprawled in the street, his ear ringing, his cheek burning.

As he got to his feet, Simon's head swirled with emotions—anger at the Roman soldier, shame at being humiliated in front of his sons, fear for those same sons. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice reminded him that they were strangers in a large foreign city and he swallowed his anger and bitterness and managed to say, “Yes, sir.” Then as he bent to help the condemned man, he said in a low voice, “Alexander, watch your brother. Wait for me here.” A ghost of assent crossed the stricken boy's face and Simon turned his attention to his burden.

It took some work to lift and then squirm under one of the prone man's arms, tied to the heavy crossbeam, and heave him to his feet. He heard him grunt something that might be a word of thanks but Simon didn't want to be thanked. He was just as mad at the man as at the soldiers. What had this fool done to make the Romans beat him half to death before killing him? But it did no good to speculate. Simon concentrated on getting the criminal to his appointment with death so he could return to his family.

As his father and the bloody man began to lurch off down the street, Alexander tried to think. Should he stay right at this spot or someplace near that is not so busy and crowded? Was there a place where he and his brother could get a better view of the street? How long would his father be gone? He was trying to answer these questions to keep at bay the one question that loomed over the rest: Was his father coming back? Would they go ahead and crucify him too? He had never seen a crucifixion before. All he knew of it was what the older boys told him. He used to think they exaggerated the tortures just to scare him. Now he wasn't so sure. Alexander began to panic.

So it was almost a relief when two things happened in rapid succession.

Rufus screamed “Daddy!” and ran after his father. As Alexander was startled by this and yelled at his brother, the lamb wriggled free and ran off into the crowd. After a brief thought of how mad his parents would be about the lamb, he realized they would be more upset if he lost his brother. Alexander turned and pelted after Rufus.

Simon quickly realized how hard it was to coordinate his steps with that of his yokemate. He looked at him and saw that rivulets of blood had run down the man's forehead and into his good eye. He reached over and wiped the eye with the sleeve of his tunic, the tunic bought for the occasion of his pilgrimage to Jerusalem. This time Simon clearly heard a raspy “Thank you.”

“Don't mention it, “ said the Cyrenean grimly.

It became evident to Simon that he could not set the pace, despite the urging of the soldiers. He would have to adjust to what the condemned man could tolerate. Still, though weary, wounded and weighted down, the prisoner wasn't dragging his feet. He pressed on with as much strength as he could muster, as if hurrying home after a long day. “Why are you so eager?” thought Simon.

They stumbled over the uneven sections of the ancient city's streets. They swayed like drunkards whenever taking a set of stairs. They fought to keep their balance when making turns. After several minutes, Simon began to suspect that the prisoner was trying to bear most of the weight of the cross. Not knowing whether to feel insulted, embarrassed or grateful, Simon said, “Let me take the brunt of it.”

“It's my cross,” the man croaked.

“I'm supposed to help,” Simon protested.

“You are. And everyone will remember you for it.”

Not knowing how to reply, Simon looked back down, which was the only option they had with the crossbeam on their necks. He noticed that the man left faint bloody footprints on the pavement.

Simon and the condemned man struggled together in the hot Mediterranean sun, limbs aching, sweat mingling and possibly their blood as well. Simon could feel his neck and shoulders being rubbed raw. His hands had been pierced with splinters which he could not stop and remove. His back began to scream. But since his companion was in worse shape and did not complain, he would not either.

Physically, climbing the Hill of the Skull was the worst of it for Simon. But it was after he laid the man at the foot of the stripped and branchless tree that the soldiers indicated, that Simon felt the worst. He didn't know what to do. It had nothing to do with whether he was officially dismissed in the eyes of the soldiers. He did not feel that he could simply leave this man to face his final hours alone. And yet he had to go find his children. “I will leave when he passes out,” Simon thought. The soldiers quickly and efficiently nailed the man to the crossbeam, hoisted him onto the tree that served as an upright, and then nailed his heels to it. As they did the same to the two other men, one soldier climbed a ladder with the placard and hung it in place above the man's head. Only then did Simon discover with whom he had labored so intimately that morning.

“It's the guy on the donkey!” said Rufus, suddenly appearing and clutching his father's leg.

Just then Alexander ran up, berating his brother. “It's all his...fault...” His voice trailed off at the sight of the grotesque scarecrow hanging before them.

Just then the man struggled to pull himself up painfully and fill his lungs. “Father, forgive them for they don't don't know what they're doing.”

After that they couldn't leave. When it was over, Simon and his sons retraced their steps into the city. They passed people carrying their slaughtered lambs. They did not attempt to buy another one. They had decided that enough innocent blood had been shed that day.

They returned to the place where they were staying for the Passover. Simon's wife was in a state somewhere between fury and hysteria when they showed up just before sunset, having been gone so long and yet having brought back nothing. But the somber mood of her family and her husband's ruined and bloody clothes rendered her tirade stillborn. They stood and hugged each other for a long time before they spoke.

Their neighbor invited them to share his Passover lamb and feast that evening. But neither Simon nor the boys had much of an appetite. When it came to the part of the seder where Alexander, the oldest boy, asked, “Why is tonight different from every other night?” the question struck Simon with a force it never had before. It took him a few moments before he could regain his composure and answer.

“It is the Passover sacrifice to the Lord...” he began and halted. “It is the Passover sacrifice to the Lord...” he repeated and fell silent. “Oh, my God...”

Simon probably decided to stay in Jerusalem when he first heard the rumors about the empty tomb. He may have contacted the rich man he had seen claim the body for burial. He probably met with Peter and the disciples. He and his family may have been among the 500 who saw the risen Jesus. (1 Corinthians 15:6) His family may have been among the other Cyreneans at Pentecost. (Acts 2:8-10) They may have joined up with other Cyrenean believers and gone to Antioch where they founded a church. (Acts 11:20) That church took in a man called Saul and supported him when he left to preach to the Gentiles. (Acts 13:1-3) Paul mentions a Rufus and his mother whom he said was like a mother to him. (Romans 16:13) And sure enough, when the gospels were written, what Simon of Cyrene had done was remembered (Matthew 27:32; Luke 23:26) and he and his sons, Alexander and Rufus, became part of the story of his passion. (Mark 15:21)

Originally preached on April 4, 2004. It has been revised and updated. 

SWEEPS: Service

Hearing someone yelling “Help!” would mobilize most of us. It is especially galvanizing when you are a nurse. And it's distressing to hear when you are in the midst of treating another patient. I wrapped things up as quickly as I could and left the patient's room, only to find the source of the cries not 10 steps from the doorway. As soon as she saw me the old woman in the wheelchair ceased bleating and, in her most imperious manner, ordered me to get her a snack. I don't know if this woman was once rich or not but she treated the staff at the nursing home as if we were hired help. Furious both that she was not actually in physical distress and at the tone she used, I went up to her and said, “We are not your servants! We are medical personnel who are here to keep you healthy! I have more than 2 dozen patients, many of them a lot sicker than you! If you want a snack, you don't bellow; you ask politely like a civilized person. And when we have the time, we will get your snack. Do you understand?” Quite abashed, she muttered an apology. And then, since I had finished with the other patient, I went and got her a snack.

Today we regard being called a servant as an insult. How much more so if we realized that often when the word is used in the Bible a more literal translation would be “slave.” Frequently in scripture the difference between “slave” and “servant” is not clear. Some forms of the slavery practiced then were not like the rigid, permanent condition of slavery that we had in pre-Civil War America. In ancient Israel, people might even sell themselves into slavery to pay off a debt or to keep themselves from starving. The Bible says that a slave had to be fed and clothed and released after working for 6 years, with generous provisions. (Leviticus 25: 35-37; Deuteronomy 15:12-15) Such slaves were usually better off than poor freemen. A slave might be promoted to become the steward of a master's estate, as Joseph was. In the Roman empire, slaves could practice a craft, such as blacksmithing, or work as an artisan, or have a profession, like teaching or medicine. In addition, a debt slave could be ransomed from slavery by a relative who paid the debt. This relative was called a redeemer. (Leviticus 25:47-49)

The fact is that for most of history the majority of human beings have been servants to someone. If not actual slaves, they were tenant farmers, herders, soldiers or household servants. Most societies were hierarchical and technically, everyone was the servant of the local lord. He was in turn the servant of the king, who might be the servant of an emperor, who was supposed to be the servant of God. Being somebody's servant was just a fact of life.

The world hasn't changed all that much. Most of us work for someone who has the ability to fire us. Few of us have unique skills that are in such demand that others will offer us a job the minute we are free from our current employment. In today's economy, people who thought they could pick and choose among positions at other companies have received a nasty reality check. In fact, the idea that having a government job provides a safe and secure career is no longer true. Right now, if you have a job, plus a mortgage, utility bills, car payments, and the need to gas up that car, you are as good as an indentured servant. As the Bob Dylan song goes, you gotta serve someone.

So why would we want to voluntarily act as servants to others? That is the topic of our last SWEEPS sermon: service. And, as you can imagine, it is one of the least practiced parts of Christianity. We might go on service projects and short missions. There's nothing wrong with that. But as Christians we are to act as servants of Christ daily. (Mark 9:35) We are to imitate Jesus, who, at the Last Supper, stripped down and wore a towel to wash the dirty feet of his disciples the way a slave would. Then he said, “I have set you an example that you should so as I have done to you.” (John 13:15) This is one answer to the question “What would Jesus do?” (Matthew 20:26-28)

The most popular thing about Jesus is his ethics. I should amend that to some of his ethics. While his sayings about love and forgiveness are well-liked, by and large, non-Christians and even some Christians ignore Jesus' ethical teachings on sex and marriage. Very few will commit to loving their enemies. Denying yourself and taking up your cross isn't a big hit with a lot of folks either. Being a servant gets a lot of lip-service and that's all.

Jesus' leadership style, called servant leadership, is quite popular, at least in management books and seminars. But what about plain old servanthood? In an era when being assertive is good and being a doormat is bad, you don't hear much praise for acting as a servant.

Part of this is a misunderstanding of the role of a servant. We are not committing ourselves to satisfying every whim of others. That is what the older woman thought I and the staff were there for. That is the sense of the word that I objected to. But we nurses are servants in the sense of doing what is necessary and helpful to others. We medicate, feed, wash, dress, treat, exercise, and otherwise care for those who cannot do so on their own. That is a form of service. And it is probably the best analogy of what Christian service is like.

We usually think of a servant as someone to be ordered around. But not all servants are like that. As I said, in the ancient world a servant could be a teacher. A teacher has at least some limited form of authority over their students. They are serving by imparting their knowledge but to do so, they need to be able to assign work and grade the results. In this case, in order to serve others, it is the servant who calls the shots.

A physician is a servant in this sense. Doctors ask questions, subject the patients to tests, and prescribe medicine and courses of treatment. But if you do not follow the doctor's orders, he or she will be of very little service to you.

As a nurse, I wasn't able to give orders in that sense. But I followed the doctor's orders and acted as his agent, asking questions, performing some tests, taking samples for other tests, giving prescribed medicines, treating wounds and other conditions. Other healthcare personnel also carry out doctor's orders, taking X-rays or using other imaging methods, giving physical, occupational, or speech therapy, dispensing drugs, even laying out a dietary plan of what the patient can and cannot eat.

Obviously there are tensions here. Patients can and do sometimes refuse to follow doctor's orders. They would rather lie in bed than undergo tiring and perhaps painful therapy that would enable them to walk again. They may object to a medication, sometimes over legitimate concerns, but sometimes for reasons that have more to do with comfort than health. For instance, patients may object to taking a diuretic because it means going to the bathroom frequently. But taking the diuretic can be the best way to get rid of fluids that are causing legs and ankles to swell up or that are threatening to drown the person's lungs in their own fluids.

When a person has a legitimate problem, we nurses will discuss it with the patient and ask the doctor if something in the treatment plan can be changed. Perhaps pain meds can be given an hour or half-hour before the patient goes to physical therapy. Perhaps the diuretic can be given earlier in the day so the patient can sleep through the night without having to get up every few hours to go to the bathroom.

Sometimes patients can be unreasonable. Maybe they heard bad things about a drug or have a completely mistaken idea about what it does. Doctors and nurses get this a lot, partly because of real doubts raised about other drugs in the past, partly because of the ubiquitous ads for medicine, partly because of the internet which spreads both good information and misinformation. We try to correct these things but the result can still be that the patient may refuse life-saving drugs or clamor for inappropriate ones. She may refuse to go to physical therapy which means she may become an invalid despite her newly replaced knee or hip. He may continue to eat the wrong foods or refuse to eat the right ones, causing his blood sugar or his blood pressure to rise or drop dangerously. She may take her breathing treatments and then go outside to smoke.

Legally this is tricky territory for a nurse. Patients have rights. They can behave badly, like refusing to shower, and then we can be cited for neglect. They can refuse to believe that they cannot get out of bed without help and then we can be investigated when they fall. All we can do is try to persuade them to do what's right.

That resonates with me as a Christian. There are a lot of spiritually unhealthy people out there and not all of them want help. Or they only want help on their own terms, which may not be compatible with getting better. On our part, all we have is the truth of the power of the love of God in Christ, the power of persuasion and the power of prayer. That's the challenge of serving others.

In most professions, you can serve God by serving those created in his image. You can look for Jesus in the people he died for and serve him by caring for even the least of his brothers and sisters. (Matthew 25:37-40) But you can't force them to let you serve them. And you have to resist being persuaded to enable them to harm themselves. That's a big temptation for those who serve. We can confuse serving others with pleasing others.

There is a peculiar effect of serving others. It can lead to loving others. Usually we think that first you must love people in order to devote yourself to serving them. But I've found that it works the other way around as well. In serving people, you learn about them. In learning about them, you can discover things to love about them. You discover their strengths and weaknesses. You discover their quirks. You discover their vulnerabilities. If you really get to know them, you learn their fears and their hopes. You see their humanity and ideally, they see yours. You touch their lives and they touch yours.

Serving is always about helping and not harming. But sometimes it can include hurting people inadvertently. There is nothing so heartrending as a patient crying out in pain as you are cleaning and dressing their wounds. But it must be done. Untreated wounds get toxic. In seeking not to hurt a patient at all, you can do them greater harm. Sometimes you have to help a person face and deal with their trauma, whether physical, psychological or spiritual, so that they can heal.

So serving others takes wisdom. You need to know why you are doing what you are doing. You need to know the principles so well that you can envision alternatives that preserve the essentials. And you need to keep communicating with the Great Physician. He is the ultimate authority on spiritual health and healing.

And finally, you need to take breaks. You wouldn't run a machine nonstop 24/7. It would break down. You need to rest or else the quality of the service you offer will suffer. You need to pray, to praise and to relax. God not only knows this, he made it one of the Ten Commandments. Servants rest on the Sabbath, too. (Exodus 20:8-10)

All of the topics of our SWEEPS sermons are forms of service—stewardship, worship, evangelism, education, and pastoral care. They are all ways of meeting people's needs. They are all ways of serving Christ. They are all ways of glorifying God.

But they are not all of the possible ways of serving God through serving others. And discovering new ways to serve is yet another form of service. So I leave you with this challenge: How are you serving Jesus in what you do? And how could you do it better?

Originally preached on March 21, 2010. It has been revised and updated. 

SWEEPS: Pastoral Care

The patriarchs in Genesis, Moses before his call by God and David before he became a warrior were shepherds. Herding sheep is truly one of the world's oldest professions, going back 6000 years. Sheep are the most frequently mentioned animals in the Bible and there are about 100 references to shepherds. Many of them are not literal. Shepherding is all about leading, protecting, providing for and caring for a group. Naturally it became a favorite metaphor for the king of Israel and even more so for God's relationship to his people. Jesus called himself the “good shepherd,” indicating that, unlike the hired help, he was willing to give his life to save the flock. (John 10:11-12) The word “pastor” comes to English via the Latin for “shepherd.” So we who are in the ordained ministry and who have accepted responsibility for leading a parish are called pastors, shepherds of souls.

The metaphor says a lot. A shepherd must lead his flock to good pastures so they can feed. (Psalm 23:2) A pastor leads a church in such a way that his parish finds spiritual sustenance.

A shepherd has to protect his flock from predators. (Psalm 23:4) The analogy is muddier here because of the identity of the spiritual predators of the parish. Wolves may eat sheep, but I don't think we should classify as a predator another legitimate church that may be attracting parishioners to change churches. After all, every church should be part of Jesus's flock.

But certainly a pastor should protect his people from things that seek to separate folks from Christ. This includes, of course, those cults that use unethical influence and coercive control to exploit their followers for the personal benefit of the narcissistic leader. And there are those philosophies and religions whose primary feature seems to be making people feel good about themselves without actually demanding moral reform. These are belief systems that make people feel spiritual but which never bring up ideas like personal sin or personal restraint from doing whatever one desires. The only morality they espouse is some vaguely defined idea of karma.

But there are a multitude of less obvious things that are pulling people away from Christ's body. For instance, time-wise, this can include leisure activities and even work. People are working harder and longer and often working more than one job. When they are not working, people are staring at their screens to get enough dopamine hits that they will feel better. Excessive work and leisure are eating up time that should be devoted to sleep, not to mention time spent with God. It's a sad state of affairs when people must choose between satisfying their physical needs and their spiritual needs.

Shepherds also care for their sheep. In Biblical times, at night the shepherd would lead them into the fold, a kind of corral. The shepherd would put his rod across the entrance so he could stop and examine each sheep for cuts and scratches and then apply first aid. The ministerial equivalent is pastoral care, which is the topic of this SWEEPS sermon.

Pastoral care encompasses a whole range of activities, from counseling to visiting the sick to preparing people for marriage to conducting baptisms and funerals to listening to confessions. In large congregations with a full-time clergyperson, pastoral care can take up a lot of his or her schedule. If the budget allows it, an assistant pastor will be hired to deal with many of these duties. That way the senior pastor can devote himself to the extra tasks expected by modern churches: chairing numerous meetings, managing a staff, marketing the church, raising funds, overseeing building plans, creating new ministries, maybe running a parochial school and otherwise acting like the CEO of a company. Being able to do all these things is a gift, specifically the gift of administration or governing, as Paul called it. (1 Corinthians 12:28) Only a few churches recognize that administration is not exactly the same as being a pastor. Ministerial programs in seminaries train students in Bible, theology, and pastoral care but not really in administration. As I found out, you learn that when you get a church.

Why am I, a pastor, preaching to you, the flock, about pastoral care? For 2 reasons. First, because it is also a gift and it isn't confined to ordained ministers. In recognition of this fact, Dr. Kenneth Haugk, a Lutheran pastor and clinical psychologist, developed the Stephen Ministries. When he found the need for pastoral care in his large St. Louis church was too much for him to meet alone, he trained 9 lay people to help. Today thousands of congregations, not just big ones, have Stephen ministers. Folks who have not been called to ordained ministry can exercise their gift of helping others.

But, secondly, I am teaching you about pastoral care for the same reason the Red Cross teaches first aid to people who are not healthcare professionals—because you might be there when it's needed and a professional might not be. All Christians should know the basics of helping another person in the throes of a spiritual crisis.

Crises are usually about loss: loss of either a person in your life, or a relationship, or a job, or status, or self-image, or health, or a loss of purpose or meaning or faith or hope. The loss might be actual or potential. It might have already happened or else there might be a threat of it happening. The person facing the loss could react just as you'd expect someone in that situation to do. Or they might seem to be overreacting or under-reacting, in your eyes at least. What do you do?

A comedian once said that 90% of life is just showing up. The most important thing to do when someone is suffering is just to be there. Though some people might wish to face such things alone, the overwhelming majority of folks do not. They want support. They want someone by their side.

The question that tends to come up when trying to help in such cases is “What do I say?” The answer is “As little as possible.” Tell the person in crisis how sorry you are that this happened or is happening to them. Give them a hug if appropriate. But mostly, listen. Pay attention to the ratio of ears to mouth that God gave us and listen twice as much as you talk.

If the person suffering needs to talk, let them. Tragedies tend to overturn our images of ourselves as the heroes of our life stories. These things happen to other people, we think. We are too smart or too strong or careful or healthy or prepared or Christian to have this befall us. Talking is a way to make sense of what has happened, to make it fit into the narrative of our lives. The Red Cross has found that a disaster victim needs to tell their story an average of 17 times before they can accept that it is now part of their story. Let them talk.

At times you might need to ask a question for practical reasons or to clarify exactly what happened. But do not grill the person. Gently prompt them to answer. Do not try to unearth details just to satisfy your curiosity. Be prepared to tolerate a good deal of repetition and a fair amount of rambling. Take note of what seems to have had the biggest emotional impact on the person and what aspects they seem to have the hardest time wrestling with. Please realize that a lot of the questions they ask might be rhetorical. When they ask things like “What will I do?” or “What will I say?” they are probably not really asking for advice but for support. They aren't really asking for a list of practical steps at that point but expressing how overwhelmed they are. Let them know that you're here and will help them.

The same is probably true if they ask questions about God. They don't really want a coldly logical or even a scriptural reason why the bad thing happened to them or a loved one. Never—I repeat—never tell them the tragedy is God's plan or God's will. Never presume to know why God let this happen. You don't know. Be honest and tell them that: “I don't know.” Resist the temptation to defend God. Remember that Job asked God a lot of hard questions in his suffering, while his so-called “comforters” kept giving reasons why God let the loss of his children, wealth and health happen. But in the end, God commends Job and condemns his “comforters” for trying to defend God with faulty reasoning. (Job 42:7-8) God prefers honesty over well-meaning lies on his behalf.

Do not deny or dismiss the person's experience. Do not tell them what they are or are not feeling. At that moment all they have to cling to may be what they are experiencing. Don't tell them they are nuts or wrong to feel what they are feeling. It's human to feel all kinds of ways when things fall apart. Tell them, “I can understand why you feel that way.” If you have truly felt that way and have undergone the same or an extremely similar experience, then you can say, “I felt the same way when so-and-so died or such-and-such happened.” But if you haven't, don't lie. Just listen and empathize and assure them that they are not crazy or evil to feel as they do. After all, the Bible includes expressions of all human feelings including the darkest ones. If you don't believe me, check out Psalm 88.

Do not try to impose a meaning on what happened or is happening to the person. For it to make any sense to them, for it to have any comfort, they must discover the meaning themselves. Of course, you don't want them to conclude that they are worthless or hopeless. Let them know that it is normal to question or doubt themselves. We all play the “coulda, woulda, shoulda” game when something goes wrong. Now is not the time to draw conclusions on whose fault something is or what it says about anyone.

When you say, “If there's anything I can do, just ask,” realize what you are committing yourself to. Don't make promises you can't keep. If you realize that you are in over your head, the best thing to do is to refer the person to a professional. If it is mostly a crisis of faith, refer them to a pastor, preferably their own. If it requires medical or psychological attention, assist them in getting help. And take seriously any talk of suicide or violence. The idea that those who talk about such things never do them is just plain wrong.

Tell the person you will pray for them and all involved and mean it. Ask if they'd like you to pray for them now. Ask what specifically they would like you to pray for. Then just be honest as you pray. Acknowledge the problem. Acknowledge the feelings. Ask for healing, strength, comfort and whatever is needed. Remind yourselves that Jesus knows what it is like to be human and helpless and hurting. Make the prayer plain, simple and to the point.

If, and only if, the person wants to know where God is in all their suffering, what you can tell them is that God knows what suffering is firsthand. Jesus, God incarnate, suffered. Jesus knew what it was like to have your family think you are nuts, to have a loved one (Joseph, Lazarus) die, to be betrayed by a friend, to be abandoned by your friends, to be unjustly accused, to have your words twisted, to be hurt, to be tormented, to be helpless. Jesus wept. God knows what it is like to suffer. We are not alone in that.

And remind them that God heals. It may not seem like that at the time, but even if it doesn't help them right now, tell them to tuck that fact in the back of their mind. God heals. But just as a child doesn't always understand exactly why a doctor does certain things to them, like giving them painful shots, we may not always be able to see why God is working as he does. As hard as it may be at times, we need to trust in his love for us. And we need to realize that nothing can separate us from that love.

There are great books on helping others in this way. There's Christian Counseling by Dr. Gary Collins and Christian Caregiving: a Way of Life by Kenneth Haugk. I recommend that everyone learn more about this, just like I think everyone should know basic first aid. You never know when you are going to need it but someday you probably will.

All metaphors break down. In real life, sheep never become shepherds. They cannot give each other first aid. But we are not sheep. We are meant to grow into the image of our shepherd, Jesus. To switch metaphors, we are members of the body of Christ. Whenever a part of your body is injured, other elements of your body, like your immune system, are dispatched to limit the damage and begin the healing. Though our strengths and gifts may differ, they are all given so that we may minister to and build up each other in the body of Christ. And in many cases, we are simply called upon to listen and say little. But often that's the best way to let people know how much you love them.

Originally preached on March 10, 2010. It has been revised and updated. 

SWEEPS: Evangelism and Education

When I first preached this sermon 15 years ago, the opening paragraph was about how I found a great deal on business cards when cleaning out my spam filter. It was 250 cards for $1.99. You went to the website, picked a template, filled in the blanks, got a preview of how it looked, fixed anything you didn't like, approved it and went through the check out. Of course, they tried to upsell me by presenting pictures of coffee mugs, T-shirts, etc. with info from my business cards on them. And, of course, the shipping cost was a lot more than the $1.99 for the cards, although they did include another 250 cards. But in a couple of days I had cards with a picture of my Episcopal church on it, our name, address, phone number and service times, with my name as priest. Doing such things online was relatively new and so I told my congregation that if they were interested, they could go to the website and check it out. And they could use the cards I distributed to invite people to church.

It might have sounded like a commercial but as a former copywriter, I can tell you it really wasn't. It was something more effective than the ads we get bombarded with all the time: it was a personal testimonial. I was sincere in my praise for the product. I didn't get paid to say it. I didn't hype it, either; I just told it like it was. Also I didn't try to close the deal; I simply told the people I was talking to where to go if they were interested.

Why did I do it? To show the people listening to the sermon how to evangelize others. We're in the middle of our SWEEPS sermon series and we are talking about evangelism and education. These are 2 important and related activities for the church as a whole. However, it is vital that Christians as individuals should also be involved in them.

Unfortunately, when it comes to evangelism, we in America have modeled it on marketing and on high-pressure sales techniques. And so those of us who really don't have the knack for marketing or have a taste for arm-twisting can feel that we can't pass on the gospel. Nonsense. If you can recommend a good doctor or mechanic to a friend, you can recommend Jesus to them. If you can recommend a good restaurant to an acquaintance, then you can recommend your church to them. If that person isn't interested, fine. But if they are, you've passed on a helpful bit of information.

You do need to have thought out 2 things first: the basic facts of the gospel and how it made a difference in your life.

You would think that most Christians would know the basics of the faith. After all, we not only preach on them and recite the creed every Sunday in church, we also make learning about them the heart of the confirmation process. Sadly, a lot of kids treat confirmation as a course you have to pass in order to graduate from church. We don't retain that information any better than we do high school algebra.

You tend to remember things better if they relate to your life. But many Christians believe, along with non-Christians, that the gospel is mostly about taking out fire insurance for the afterlife. They miss the huge emphasis that Jesus puts on life now in the world. Part of this comes from misinterpreting the term “kingdom of heaven” found in Matthew. Matthew's gospel seems to have been targeted at an audience of Jewish believers. And they, like Orthodox Jews today, tried to rule out the very possibility of taking God's name in vain by avoiding using the word “God” at all. So Matthew substituted “kingdom of heaven” for “kingdom of God” which is used in all the other canonical gospels and so is probably the term that Jesus used. (Mark 4:11; Luke 4:43; John 3:3)

The kingdom of God is sometimes talked of in the future tense but Jesus does talk about the kingdom of God existing in the present tense as well. (Mark 1:15; Luke 11:20) The kingdom is not a country with borders; it is wherever God reigns as king. For instance, when Jesus compares the kingdom of God to a field in which weeds grow up alongside good grain, he isn't saying that there will be evil in heaven. He is describing the kingdom of God in the world, present tense. (Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43)

Think of it like D-Day. The landing of the Allies in France was the beginning of the end of Hitler's Third Reich. As the Allies took over Nazi-occupied countries, they brought freedom. But Europe wasn't completely free until they took Germany back from the Nazis. The kingdom of God will only be fully realized in the future but it began with God's invasion of this world in the person of Jesus and exists now wherever he has freed people from sin. Jesus said “the kingdom of God is within you,” or “in the midst of you” since the “you” is plural in Greek. (Luke 17:21) So most of what Jesus tells us relates to this life.

This life is a mixed bag. Parts of it are wonderful and other parts are terrible. Why? Most of the things that negatively impact our lives have come about due to the bad choices we and others have made. And while we have little or no control over the bad choices others make, like our parents, ancestors or leaders, why don't we make better choices ourselves? Is there anyone out there who thinks using addictive drugs is a rational choice? Does adultery seem like a consequence-free choice to anyone who wants a happy marriage and trauma-free kids? In view of the financial fiasco that has put 67% of the wealth of this country into the hands of the richest 10% of households and only 2.6% in the hands of the bottom 50% of the population, can anyone, besides millionaires and billionaires, now echo Gordon Gecko's mantra that “Greed is good”? Why do we continue to repeat the bad choices that others make rather than reject them?

To be sure, we don't make our choices in a vacuum. There are all kinds of influences on us—genetic, familial, cultural. But if they could always veto our making different choices then no one could ever change their life for good or for evil. No one coming from a good situation in life could ever betray friends or cheat to win. No one in a bad situation could ever overcome addiction or succeed despite handicaps. Yet one of the most notorious bank robbers to hit L.A. was the son of a minister and had a good childhood. Jamie Lee Curtis came from a family that was blighted by addiction. Her father Tony Curtis abused alcohol, cocaine and heroin. Her brother died of an overdose at age 21. She was herself addicted to prescription painkillers for a decade. She decided to get treatment and has been sober for 25 years. Our choices, even the hard ones, are real choices. Our past need not determine our future.

Jesus spoke of the source of our bad choices: “...from within, out of the human heart, come evil ideas, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, shamelessness, envy, slander, arrogance and foolishness. All these come from within and pollute a person.” (Mark 7:21-22) If you've ever really been tempted, you know that our desires to do things we know are wrong can overrule our good sense when making certain choices. The Bible calls these desires and the actions they lead to “sins.”

They not only mess up our lives and the lives of those around us but they mess up our relationship with God. God would be justified in turning his back on all of us for all the harm we have done to ourselves and to each other, not to mention to the rest of his creation. But he loves us and wants to restore us to what we were created to be: his sons and daughters made in his image.

So in Jesus God entered into his creation to live as one of us, to announce his intentions to save us and to take upon himself the negative consequences that our sins have upon our relationship with God. And he did it at the cost of his own life. Then God raised Jesus to vindicate what Christ said about himself and about God. His resurrection also shows us how God will ultimately reboot and restore creation to what it was meant to be.

If we choose to turn from our sin-dominated lives and turn to God, he will offer us a direct connection to him through his Spirit, the same Holy Spirit who empowered Jesus. By letting God implant his Spirit in us, he can start healing us. And by joining other people in recovery from sin, we can begin a life that is about restoration rather than destruction, forgiveness rather than retribution, reconciliation rather than polarization, helping rather than harming.

That's just one way to relate the basics of the gospel to people's everyday lives. It's about how Jesus frees those who turn to him from the things they do to sabotage themselves, their relationships with others and their relationship with God. The worst way to present the good news to others is to say, “You're evil. You're going to hell if you don't have Jesus.” The best way is to say, “I had a real problem. Nothing I did was working. The only thing that helped was Jesus.” Give your testimony. Tell how you needed peace or healing, how you were living with regret or wracked with grief, or how you had a bad relationship with someone important to you. Tell them how you asked God for help and how the help came. Tell them how following Jesus helps you on a daily basis.

People will rarely challenge your telling of your personal experience. They may not react by saying, “Oh my God, I need Jesus now!” but you will have planted a seed. Jesus frequently talked about how the gospel and the kingdom of God were like seeds. (Mark 4:26; Luke 8:11) We are not responsible for having every seed sprout and grow into a big tree and produce fruit. What we are responsible for is planting the seeds.

Of course, you can also just say, “Would you like to go to church with me this Sunday? I get a lot out of it and I think you might like it.” A 2-year study revealed that as many as 9 out of 10 unchurched people would go to church if someone would just invite them. Evangelism can be as simple as that.

Education can be thought of as nurturing the growing seeds of the gospel planted in people's minds. There's a lot more to God than the stripped down version one gets from evangelistic efforts. There's a lot more to being a Christian than going to church or following the Ten Commandments. There is a rich heritage of Christians dealing with issues and questions from the most basic to the most challenging. There is a smorgasbord of spiritual practices that the church has developed to help people who respond to different approaches in getting closer to God. By sharing them with each other, we help each other grow in Christ.

Bishop Frade, who ordained me, liked to tell this joke: What do you get when you cross an Episcopalian with a Jehovah's Witness? Someone who knocks on your door but has nothing to say. I think that's true of a lot of mainstream churches. That's why this sermon is about evangelism and education. The reason I've spent most of this time on evangelism is that most mainstream churches are quite good when it comes to education in the faith. We offer lots of information about and instructions for living with God. But that does us no good if we don't learn to get people to come to church in the first place.

Our first duty is to tell people the good news of how Jesus can free us from whatever dominates or enslaves us. And that means living lives that display that God is liberating us from our sins. Which also means being honest and repentant when we slip. It means forgiving others so that they can believe that our God is forgiving. It means reaching out and helping those who need help as if they were Jesus. If our actions match our words, and we make our words audible, we will have more success in getting people to come to church. And once they are here, we can share the wealth of knowledge and treasured wisdom that our generous God has in store for his people.

Originally preached on March 7, 2010. It has been revised and updated.