God’s people share one heart, have one home now and always in God – and that includes you, includes all.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Fifth Sunday of Easter, year A
Text: John 14:1-14 (plus 13:36-38)

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

Peter must have nearly collapsed in despair.

Jesus struck at the heart of his bold loyalty. “Why can’t I follow you now?” Peter asked. “I would give my life for you.” “No,” Jesus said, “the truth is, tonight, before morning breaks, you will betray me by denying you even know me. And not just once. Three times.” It’s heartbreaking.

And it’s not the first time. Some weeks before, Peter also boldly declared his faith that Jesus was the Messiah, only to be called Satan for trying to stop Jesus from heading to his suffering and death. And just that evening, they had that little argument over the footwashing. So this last weight came on top of Peter’s already fragile sense of his own faithfulness.

The others had to be shaken, too. Maybe the footwashing conversation felt a bit amusing, typical blustery Peter getting it wrong. But Jesus had said at supper that one of them would betray him, and no one knew who. Now they must have thought: Peter? Our leader, the brave and foolish one, is the betrayer? How could their hearts stand it?

That’s why Jesus’ next words have to be heard in this proper context.

His very next words are, “Don’t let your heart be troubled. Trust in God. Trust in me.”

He says, “Yes, you will betray me tonight, deny me, run away. Don’t let your heart be troubled. Trust God. Trust me.” He says, “Yes, you have failed me, misunderstood my mission, tried to stop me from my path. Don’t let your heart be troubled. Trust in me. Trust in God.”

I imagine Jesus touching Peter’s face, maybe embracing him to comfort him as he says these words: Yes, my dear, you will do badly tonight, and on more days and nights to come. Do not let your heart be troubled. Trust me. Trust God. Into the heartbreaking reality of Peter’s coming failure, Jesus speaks words that still give us hope.

But here’s what you didn’t hear, couldn’t see.

Jesus isn’t just talking to Peter.

Jesus actually says, “All of you, do not let your heart be troubled.” Our English pronouns are impoverished, as we’re learning in so many human and divine contexts these days. But John’s Greek readers would have understood this from the first: everyone is included in Jesus’ comfort and encouragement. The various Marys, and Thomas. Joanna, Matthew, and Mary Magdalene. Andrew and Salome. Susanna and Philip. And yes, Peter. Jesus knew all their hearts were breaking at this coming betrayal, and would break even more in the next days. So he spoke courage into them all.

And every “you” in today’s Gospel reading is plural, except that brief interchange with Philip. This promise of a place prepared, of the way, the truth, and the life, none of this is a promise to an individual.

Jesus is preparing a place in his Father’s house for the whole community, everyone, all brought in together by Christ. The healing grace of God in Christ isn’t something you can have or lose as an individual, even if you betray Christ, deny Christ with your life. You are in God’s community in Christ in baptism and Christ will bring the whole community into the life of God now and in a life to come. Do not let your heart be troubled. Trust Jesus. Trust your God.

And in this community, failures, faithfulness, all are held and carried in Christ.

Because there’s something else to notice: Jesus says, “all of you, do not let your heart be troubled.” Plural you. Singular heart.

This community of Christ shares a heart. One community, one home, one heart in Christ. So if, like Peter, you have a bad night, or week, or year, or if your heart is troubled, you are not alone. This community heart, fed and nourished in Christ, will hold you. Your anxiety and failure are shared across our heart and you will not be let go of.

In this community of Christ – which we know in the flesh here at Mount Olive but which extends throughout the world and throughout time – in this community, sharing one heart, your failure or mine can’t stop God’s love or break the community. God is making a place for all, and all includes you.

If you can grasp this promise, if all who bear Christ’s name can, wonders will happen.

This community in Christ will learn that Jesus is the Way we all live together, the path we learn together. No one walks it alone. It’s a path shaped by the Truth that is Jesus – a living Truth that reveals the vulnerable love of the Creator of the universe for us and for all. Living in this Truth, walking the Way together, never alone, we find the abundant Life that Jesus is, that Jesus told us last week he so desires for all. And together in this Way, Truth, and Life, we will do greater things even than Jesus, he promises. That’s how God will heal this world.

If salvation isn’t an individual thing – and that’s what Jesus promises today – and if we’re all in this together – Jesus promises that today, too – then don’t let your heart be troubled, beloved of God. We have a Way to walk, together, lived in the Truth of God’s love, animated by the abundant risen Life of Christ. And you belong.

That’s a lot to grasp. But actually, it’s only scratching the surface of God’s true desire.

All these promises today are made to the community of those who trust in Christ, but God plans so much more.

Jesus says in John 3 that because God so loved the whole cosmos God sent the Son to save and heal. Jesus says in Matthew 18 that his Father’s will is that not a single little one be lost. And in John 12, Jesus declared: “when I am lifted up (on the cross), I will draw all things to myself” (all things, not just all people).

So when Jesus says today that no one comes to the Father except through him, it’s the ultimate inclusion. Christ is drawing all things, every little one (human or not), the whole cosmos, into the heart of God. Today Jesus proclaims the promise to the end of the universe: everyone and everything gets to come to God through me. No one and nothing is lost.

We leave how all this works to the Triune God who won’t rest until every atom knows it is in God’s love always and forever. But even as we rejoice in the gifts and blessing of this community in Christ with our shared heart, we would do well to also rejoice that the God who loves us, loves all. No exceptions.

And surely that is good news for this broken, fearful, struggling world God loves so much.

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

It is in community that we can share our doubts, strengthen each other, and be fed and healed by Word and Sacrament for our life.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Third Sunday of Easter, year A
Text: Luke 24:13-35

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

Do you realize Thomas is one of the bravest disciples in the Gospels?

When Jesus decides to go to Jerusalem to deal with his dead friend, Lazarus, the disciples tell him not to go, that the leaders want to kill him. Jesus persists, and it’s Thomas who bravely says, “then let’s go die with him.”

On the night of his betrayal, when Jesus says “don’t be afraid, I’m going to prepare a place for you in my Father’s house,” and adds, “and you know the way to where I am going,” only Thomas has the courage to say what everyone else was thinking: “Lord, we don’t know where you’re going.”

And when Thomas misses Easter evening, he shares his doubts and fears to his friends. They may have seen Jesus alive, but he says, “I need to see myself.” That takes courage to admit.

And Thomas finds his bravery in his community.

There’s a serious discussion among Christians today about the future of Christian community.

Since the pandemic separation, when congregations responded by finding ways to connect on the Internet, from streaming worship to online meetings, many are now asking if virtual connections are the church’s future.

Many of these are younger leaders who are used to connections, community, online, via social media and messaging. Some argue we need to recognize that community is more than being in person. In fact, some are saying that’s the past, that the way people experience community today is virtual, online. That’s our future.

That hasn’t been our experience here. As important as it was that we connected online during our COVID separation, we had, as a community, a deep desire to be with each other again, in the same space, able to see and talk to each other. Coming together for worship and fellowship again was a tremendous blessing and continues to be. It’s wonderful that we now reach people through livestreaming that we never did before. People join us for worship from far distances, and our own folks who can’t come on a Sunday are able to join in. This is miraculous. But it’s hard to imagine this congregation not continuing to cherish and seek being together in person.

Just like all these Easter stories. They all happen in community.

This couple from Emmaus go to their home together, and then return to be with the others that same night. The women go to the tomb together, not alone. Mary Magdalene runs to the other disciples twice, once to tell them Jesus’ body is gone, the other to say she’s seen the Lord. Peter and John go to the tomb together. Thomas misses the first Sunday night, but rejoins his friends the next. Peter and six others go fishing in Galilee and meet Jesus on the beach.

These people needed each other. They sought each other out. They didn’t face Jesus’ death alone, they gathered in the Upper Room. And no one stayed apart when news of Jesus’ resurrection started to spread.

They found their faith together, in doubt and fear, and in joy and hope.

The Emmaus couple shared their pain together: “We had hoped,” they sadly said, “that he was the one to save Israel.” Thomas opened his heart and told his friends he was struggling to trust what they said. Mary Magdalene poured out her fear to the others: “they’ve taken my Lord away and I don’t know where they’ve laid him.”

They shared their griefs, their doubts, their fears with each other, not pretending to have it all together.

And they shared their joy and faith. The Emmaus couple ran back eight miles after dark, just to tell the others what they’d seen. Mary witnessed that she’d seen Jesus. The other disciples told Thomas what they’d experienced. They all realized they weren’t complete without each other, in their doubts or in their joys.

Because the risen Christ brought healing and hope within their community.

Apart from Sunday morning’s appearances, every time they met the risen Christ they were fed with word and with food. That gave them peace, eased their fears, settled their doubts. They were encouraged, and loved, and sent.

On the road to Emmaus, Jesus opened the Scriptures to this couple, and when they invited him into their home, he broke bread with them, revealing himself as God’s risen life. In the Upper Room, Jesus breathed peace on them, sent them as God’s forgivers in the world, and ate with them. At that beach in Galilee, Jesus fed them with breakfast, and invited them to remember their love for him and their call to feed his lambs, to be his love. This is Word and Sacrament, every time! It is the Easter life.

What we do here in community each week is no accident.

So be bold. Be brave. You can trust this gift Christ gives.

Here you are fed by Word and Sacrament, and strengthened, and healed. Look around you at these people who share that healing with you. You can trust them and speak openly, like the Emmaus couple, like Thomas, like Mary, and say, “I have my doubts. I struggle with my faith. I need to see more. It feels like Jesus has been taken from me.” Here we hold each other in our fears. Here you’re not alone, even in those times you struggle to believe. Here we don’t pretend to have it together.

And here you can also be the other one, who will hold another and give them the hope of faith when theirs is struggling. Like Thomas on the way to Jerusalem, or Mary Magdalene after meeting Jesus, or this couple from Emmaus after they knew him in the breaking of the bread. We here for each other in our doubt and in our faith. And for those who can’t be with us in person for whatever reason, it is our duty, our joy, as a community, to go be with them, bringing Word and Meal and the gifts of community.

This community of faith is the gift of the risen Christ for you and for all. Trust it, and be brave: we’re all in this together. And we’re all in this with Christ.

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

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