Trust God in Christ, even if you don’t understand, and find life.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Second Sunday of Easter, year A
Text: John 20:19-31 (with reference to 20:8-9 and ch. 9)

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

There’s a strange moment in last Sunday’s Gospel, John’s Easter story.

The evangelist says after Mary Magdalene told the other disciples the tomb was open and Jesus’ body gone, two disciples ran to see for themselves: Peter and the so-called “beloved” disciple, whom we assume to be John.

John got to the tomb first, but waited for Peter. Then John went in after Peter and saw the linen wrappings, but no Jesus. Then the evangelist says: “he saw and believed; for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that Jesus must rise from the dead.” (vv. 8-9) Wait. John doesn’t see Jesus, and believes – but didn’t understand Jesus was to rise? What exactly did he believe?

A week later, we see Thomas in the Upper Room, having missed the first Sunday night visit. He sees Jesus and calls him “my Lord and my God.” And Jesus wonders if Thomas only believes because he has seen.

Believing without seeing Jesus. Believing because of seeing Jesus. There’s something here we need to grasp.

First, we need to tweak our words a bit.

The word the NRSV translates “believe” also carries the meaning “trust.” I substituted “trust” for “believe” when I read today because as we hear it in our modern day, “to believe” mostly suggests to us “to accept a teaching as true.” But how we use “trust” is closer to what the word really means.  Believe feels more in the head; trust feels more in the heart.“I trust Jesus” is very different to our ears than “I believe in Jesus.”

So, both John and Thomas end up trusting in these encounters, not just believing.

But the evangelist also says John trusts, but doesn’t see Jesus, while Thomas trusts after he sees Jesus. Now, “to see” in Greek acts the same as in English. It can mean physical sight, or it can mean understanding. Jesus plays with this in John 9 when he heals a blind man but says it’s the Pharisees who can’t see.

So it’s legitimate to say John trusts without understanding, and Thomas trusts while understanding. I don’t think this is an accident. The whole Gospel of John is meant to invite trust in God’s coming in Christ, without necessarily understanding everything about God, or the world, or life.

That’s great news, because there’s so much we don’t understand about those things.

We trust Christ is risen, that God’s love brought God-with-us to the cross, through death, and into resurrection life. We trust there’s a new life available for us here in Christ, and also after we die.

But it’s extremely hard to see, understand, how God’s resurrection life is working in the world. We don’t understand why God doesn’t just fix all that’s wrong. We don’t understand why suffering and pain persist in a world where Christ supposedly broke death. Or why there is systemic evil, why it’s so hard to change what’s wrong in the world. We don’t understand why it’s so hard for us to follow Christ, love as Christ, be Christ.

We sometimes don’t even understand the cross. We get Jesus wasn’t the military leader some hoped for, that he was killed and that surprised his followers. But now that Christ is risen, we struggle to understand that the cross is still the way of Christ, we don’t get the “lose your life to find it” truth of God, or how death is even now being defeated by God’s life when it looks just the opposite in the world.

But if we look at the words differently, listen to what Jesus says to Thomas: “blessed are those who do not understand and yet come to trust.”

And this is exactly where those first believers found themselves.

None of them fully understood what was happening in those days, or as the years passed. Do you think Mary Magdalene was done with her questions after Easter morning? The couple from Emmaus, whom we’ll meet again next week, still had lots of questions when Jesus disappeared from among them. All of the disciples had much they didn’t understand, had things they doubted. Even after Pentecost.

But the invitation is to trust anyway. Martha, before Jesus even raises her brother, is asked if she trusts that Jesus is the resurrection and the life. She had no idea what that might mean. But she said, “Yes, Lord, I do trust.” We sometimes wish we could be like Thomas: actually see Jesus risen from the dead, see his hands, his side, his feet. But Jesus kindly asks Thomas if he can learn to trust without seeing, without understanding everything. And asks you, too.

Actually, today John says that’s the whole point of his writing this Gospel.

Notice what he includes and what he doesn’t. John says, “Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. But these are written so that you may come to trust that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through trusting you may have life in his name.” (vv. 30-31)

John says nothing about understanding. He hopes that from this witness you can come to trust – like Martha, like John, like Mary Magdalene, like Thomas, like Peter –that Jesus is God’s Anointed Son, and so have life in Jesus’ name. Life now, filled with God’s hope, and with purpose and direction and grace. And the promise of life to come.

So, Jesus says, “you are blessed if you don’t doubt, but just trust.”

Now, doubts are real, normal. Because we often don’t understand much. Everyone who’s ever trusted in God in Christ has doubts. You and I will doubt, will fear, will struggle, like honest Thomas. We don’t see the whole plan, often don’t understand.

So, honor your doubts, your lack of understanding. Speak them aloud, like Thomas, if you want. But be ready: at some point your God and Lord, Christ Jesus, will look into your eyes and say, “do you trust me and my life anyway?” When you do, you’ll find life like you never knew possible.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

Your life in the risen Christ – a new creation, a new being – already exists in God’s heart and as you know Christ you will be revealed more and more to be like him.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Resurrection of Our Lord, year A
Texts: Colossians 3:1-4; John 20:1-18

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

Were you surprised by the readings you heard today?

Did you come here wondering what was going to happen to Jesus after Good Friday? Probably not. We walk through Holy Week and shadow the actions of Christ Jesus, waving palms, washing feet, sharing Christ’s meal, waiting in the garden with Jesus, watching with him through his death on a hill outside Jerusalem.

But last night the news we heard here in the dark wasn’t a surprise: Christ is risen! And none of you were likely surprised this morning to hear the Gospel tell us of a rolled away stone, an empty tomb, and Jesus alive. We don’t celebrate Holy Week and pretend we don’t know the story.

So why did you come today, if you already knew Christ is risen?

Maybe because your life of faith can feel a lot like Holy Week.

We can have moments of joy and clarity like the crowds felt last Sunday, celebrating God has come to be with us. And “hosanna” springs from our hearts to our lips. We’re full of joy and hope in what God is doing in Christ. “Gloria” and “alleluia” pour from our prayer and our song.

But last Sunday we followed the ancient practice of going from the joyful procession of palms immediately to the reading of the passion and death of God-with-us. And then we walked through Holy Week. Because that’s what this world does to our joy. And our faith.

Hosanna moments happen: God is with us! Then we look around and see oppression and evil, pain and suffering. The death of loved ones. We realize, as they all did this week, that there are powers arrayed against God-with-us, powers that will do whatever they can to stop any grace and healing and love God intends in Christ for all God’s children. We see, as they did, that there are structures of that evil embedded in our society and our world, and we see Christians perpetuating and building on those structures. Then we look inside and see our own struggles to live as Christ, to walk the life of faith. We find biases and other sinful things written into our own hearts. We feel the world betraying Christ, and we even betray. We have the same anxiety Jesus and the others felt during this week.

And sometimes, in our life of faith, we have true Good Friday moments, where all hope is sucked out of our hearts, for us and for the world.

That’s why I’m here today. Not because I doubted Jesus would rise. Because I want to know if Christ’s resurrection has an answer to all the death and power and systems and structures and brokenness. I want to see if what happened long ago matters to us today. To me. To this world.

If you do, too, start by seeing what happened with all these first witnesses.

Mary met the risen Christ and was transformed from a grieving, empty, lost person to the first apostle, filled with joy and power and new life, sent to declare to the others, “I have seen the Lord!”

The Bible says this happened to them all. Their lives were changed. Their hearts burned within them with joy and hope. Terrified cowards found bravery and risked everything to share this good news. They became notorious for being people committed to loving all people in Christ’s name. Believers were filled with an abundant generosity and shared everything with each other, especially with the poor. Because Jesus is alive they had a purpose and direction and hope for their lives. Paul said everyone in Christ are a new creation, reconciled with God and each other.

The world was still oppressive, evil, filled with suffering and pain. Just like ours. But they were different. And that made all the difference. Because they began to heal and change the world as Christ.

But now you see the problem before us: do you recognize that life?

Are your hearts burning with joy and hope in God-with-us, no matter what happens? Are you fearlessly God’s grace in the world? Do you live in abundant generosity, known as someone who loves all in Christ’s name? Do you sense a purpose and direction and hope for your life? Do you experience living as a new creation? Are you being changed so you can change the world?

Hearing of the joyful, fearless, loving lives of those who experienced the risen Christ can be another little Good Friday for us, if our lives of faith don’t seem to compare favorably. We know Jesus’ call to walk his path, to love God and neighbor, can be a hard path. But these believers seemed to walk that hard path with joy and zeal and hope. And make a difference. While we struggle with our lives of faith in our ordinary, boring lives, it doesn’t seem to match their joy or zeal or hope. Is something wrong with us?

Well, today Paul has wonderful news.

You and I have died in our baptism, Paul says. And our risen life, this new creation, already exists! It is “hidden,” Paul says, “with Christ in God.” All that heart-warming, courageous, abundantly generous, sacrificially loving, joyful living that is your life in Christ is already real, hidden in God’s heart with Christ. You don’t have to make it, or worry that you don’t have it, or despair that you’re just not like these heroes of faith. You’re exactly like them, Paul says.

And Paul says that as Christ who is your life is revealed, you also will be revealed with him in glory.

Do you see? As you know Christ more and more, your new life hidden in God with Christ, this new creation, this life that you seek, will become more and more revealed, more and more visible. To you and to the world. As you worship here and meet Christ, as you eat and drink God’s body and blood in this Meal, as you pray with this community, as you live in Christ here and in your world, wherever you are, that life you seek that already exists in God’s heart will ever more be seen in you. For the healing of this world.

Mary came to the tomb because it was the only thing she could think of doing.

She waited. And she watched. And Christ revealed himself to her. And she was changed forever.

And so we come here. To wait. To watch. To wait for Christ to be revealed to you in your life, in here, in Word and Meal and community, to watch for Christ. You are a new creation, a heart-warmed, fearless, loving follower of Christ. You are Christ for the healing of this world. Already. That truth lives in God’s heart.

And every day as Christ who is your life is more and more revealed to you that truth, that life in Christ, is more and more revealed to you and the world even more. Because you have seen the Lord. And nothing will ever be the same.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

No more words from Jesus: tonight Jesus shows you the depth of God’s love for you and the shape of your life in Christ.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
Maundy Thursday
Texts: John 13:1-17, 31b-35; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

Jesus washed Judas’ feet.

He knelt before the person whom he knew would betray him, and gently washed his feet. Looked with love into his eyes. Carefully dried his feet with the towel.

Judas also tasted the bread and wine that night, when his beloved Lord and Master said, “take and eat, this is my body, given for you, take and drink, this cup is the new promise in my blood.”

Paul reminds us tonight what we remember at each Eucharist, “that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took bread . . .”

On the night he was betrayed, Jesus washed the feet of all those who would soon betray him. On the night he was betrayed, Jesus joined his body and blood he would soon sacrifice for them and for all, to ordinary bread and wine, and gave this to those so unsure of their own faithfulness that each of them asked, “Lord, is it I who will betray you?”

While on sabbatical, surprisingly, in a number of places I worshipped, “the night he was betrayed” wasn’t said in the Eucharistic narrative. Instead, “on the night of his suffering,” or “on the night of his arrest,” was said.

But it is a matter of life and death to you, to me, to the world, that Jesus did all this on the night of his betrayal and rejection. And that he was fully aware of it.

You see, tonight Jesus’ teaching moves beyond words.

Now, John includes a long discourse on this night, full of teaching dear to our hearts, some of which we heard tonight. But from tonight through Sunday, Jesus mostly teaches by doing. Showing.

He had taught them again and again to love their neighbors, even their enemies. To pray for those who persecute them. Tonight, he strips down, brings bowl and towel, and washes the feet of those already on the verge of betrayal. Here is the servant life, he showed. No more words from Jesus. Just doing. Showing.

He’d called them again and again to life of self-sacrifice, losing for the sake of the other, finding new life through the death of the old life. Tonight, he breaks bread and shares wine and calls that his body and blood, body and blood he’ll shed as they witness in horror tomorrow. Here is what true love looks like, he showed. No more words from Jesus. Just doing. Showing.

Jesus did all this, showed all this, on the night he was betrayed, because that’s the love God dreams from all of us.

Being a servant to each other is easy if they love you. But Jesus serves those who will betray, deny, and abandon him. That’s how hard this path is, he shows. Living as a servant can mean you are taken advantage of, even mistreated. But if you watch and follow me, this is your way.

Being vulnerable and sacrificial in love to those who love you is easy. But here Jesus shows his vulnerability unto death not only for these who will betray him, but even for those who are actively plotting to kill him. That’s how hard this path is, he shows. Living in Christly love can hurt you. But if you watch and follow me, this is your way.

But there is more to all this. Judas got his feet washed. Ate and drank.

Do you see? Christ isn’t just showing you your path if you follow, revealing how hard it will be. He’s doing so much more.

Listen: Jesus loved Judas. And Jesus knew Judas. What he was capable of. What he would do. And still he lovingly washed his feet.

Jesus loved Judas. And Jesus knew Judas. Knew that Judas’ actions would directly lead to Jesus’ death. And still he lovingly shared a Meal of his body and blood with Judas, gave him God’s life to take into his body and spirit.

Nothing can separate you from the love of God in Christ Jesus. That’s what Jesus shows you tonight. Your failings, your betrayal of Christ with your life, your sins, your brokenness, all this Christ knows. And none of it matters, because God’s love for you in Christ is so great, nothing you can do or not do can stop it. Do you think, Christ asks, that God loves you so little that your betrayal can make any difference?

Nothing can separate you from the love of God in Christ Jesus.

I wish Judas could have risked staying through the weekend to know this.

The others who betrayed, denied, abandoned, all got to see the risen Jesus, and be loved and welcomed. They were blessed to learn that nothing could separate them from God’s love in Christ. Not even their worst days. And yes, they were sent out again, called again to the path of Christ, the path of love of God and neighbor, the path of servanthood and vulnerability.

I wish Judas could have stayed long enough to find that love. To hear that call again.

But you, you’re still here. It’s not too late. Watch the love Christ shows you on his knees, his eyes looking into yours, seeing all and loving even more. And then take your bowl and towel to your neighbor and your enemy.

Watch the love Christ shows you in this Meal, his sacrifice embodied in bread and wine, knowing all you’ve done and loving you even more. Take God’s body and blood into your heart, your life, and be transformed into vulnerable love for your neighbor and your enemy.

No more words. Jesus says, see what I do, and go and do likewise. Because nothing can separate you from God’s love.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

Christmas isn’t the same as when we were little. And that’s a blessing, a joy, as we grow ever more deeply aware of and living in God’s coming into our broken world.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Eve of the Nativity of Our Lord
Text: Luke 2:1-20

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

Christmas isn’t the same as when I was a child.

Tonight was magic: dinner at Grandpa and Grandma’s after the church Christmas program, opening presents after waiting what seemed like hours for the grownups to wash the dishes, the drive home, the falling asleep in anticipation. The magic was darkness and music, waiting, family, a paper bag with peanuts and candy and an orange from the church, driving home and looking at Christmas lights.

It’s not like that anymore. Grandma, who lovingly made the meals, is gone; so is Grandpa. Uncle Ray and my mother, who made the night so magical, are gone. The house belongs to someone else. I don’t know who has the dining room table, or the hutch I always sat in front of. Even driving and looking at lights doesn’t have the wonder it did as a child.

Christmas just isn’t the same.

And you know what? That’s a good thing.

The magical Christmas I knew as a child wasn’t big enough to deal with the world as it is.

My parents protected me from a hard world, where many suffered and struggled. Now, my mother organized a distribution of boxes of groceries for a Christmas feast those who were needy in our town, and I helped, putting frozen turkeys in every box in the hall, distributing the abundance of donated food into each as well. I’d ride along with our mother to deliver boxes to those who couldn’t come in person.

But I knew little about war, true poverty, oppression, racism. I didn’t understand my privilege I hold in so many ways that others do not enjoy. I knew little about the evils people do to each other. I didn’t yet know the grief of the death of loved ones. The idea that God needed to enter this broken, hurtful, killing world to change it, to heal it, to bring all humanity back into God’s love, wasn’t part of the magic then.

It is now. It’s not the joy I remember. It’s better joy. Deeper magic. As I got older, and saw more, and experienced joy and sorrow, understood more pain and suffering of my neighbor, I also grasped more and more the wonder of the holy and Triune God entering into our world to bring peace and healing and hope.

I wonder if remembering this day changed for those who were there.

Can you imagine the shepherds going back to their work after this? It was a night of being stunned, overwhelmed, excited, confused. But what about years later? Did they still hold this hope that God had come? Did they let it go over their hard lives? Were they changed?

Luke says Mary pondered all these things in her heart. Imagine just how her understanding changed in the first nine months. And there was more to come – a beautiful but ominous blessing by Simeon in the temple, an escape into Egypt. The life this child led, his ministry. And the horror of the cross, the wonder of Easter, the inrushing joy of Pentecost. Mary’s grasp of what her son’s birth meant changed dramatically as she walked her journey. And that changed her.

If Christmas is going to make any difference to you, it has to change, too.

So many of us have people we love who will not be with us at Christmas. We can’t go back in time. That magic can’t be recreated. And that’s true of all memories of Christmases past. If we bask in nostalgia and try to remake what we think we remember, we’ll just be disappointed and sad.

So if celebrating God coming to you as one of us will mean anything to you and your life, to this world and its pain, it needs to be big enough to handle your grief. Your loss. Your loneliness. Your confusion. Your fear. Your pain. It needs to be able to embrace all the pain and suffering of this world, and bring a healing hope to that. Christmas needs to be that big, or it needs to change.

Pondering this birth in your heart, as Mary did, letting it grow, deepen, sit with you over the years, will change Christmas for you. And that will change you as well.

Because you’ll learn what God’s coming really means.

You’ll remember this baby was threatened from the beginning, and, after teaching of God’s love, healing, drawing people into God’s reign, was executed. God’s coming as a vulnerable child became God-with-us vulnerably offering his life. Embrace this baby tonight and remember to touch the wounded hands and side, and you won’t be the same. You’ll learn God’s wounded answer to the world’s suffering and pain is hope and life for all.

And you’ll remember when this baby was grown, he said that you, and I, and all God’s children, were bearers of God in this world. That God’s Spirit that filled him would be in you, and me. So that we could bear the same vulnerable love into a world of pain and sadness and oppression and violence, and make a difference, even in our small circles. Your grace to that grieving person this Christmas is God’s grace. Your acting in justice and mercy in your life and your voting and your care for your neighbor is God acting in this world for healing.

When you remember that each year as you walk your journey, Christmas will change.

And with God’s grace, you’ll be changed to even more deeply recognize the need for God to come to this world in our human body, including your human body and mine. With God’s grace, you’ll be changed to appreciate more and more how God’s coming actually can bring peace to you and to a world longing so deeply for it. With God’s grace, you’ll rejoice more and more with each passing year that God continues to work in you and me and so many, and we can see it sometimes, feel it, know it.

Christmas just isn’t the same as it used to be. But neither are you. And neither am I. Thank God for that. Thank God for coming to us in this child. And thank God for coming in you and me and all God’s children, so we can embrace God as God really is, be God’s love even as we receive God’s love, and be the miracle, the magic, of God’s coming wherever we are.

In the name of Jesus.  Amen