You are known and given life in this resurrection, life for this world, life in the next.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Great Vigil of Easter
Text: 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

The voice said “Mary.”

And her world changed again.

Long ago, in the lost days of terror, she didn’t know who she was, couldn’t control her thoughts, wasn’t able to live or function. With so many voices in her head there was no room for her own voice. Then, when she first heard this voice, it called to the depths of her soul and found her. This voice sent away the other voices, brought her to life: that day was birthday.

In the devastating hours since Friday, Mary Magdalene was overwhelmed and lost, all over again. She wasn’t sure she knew herself anymore. The One who knew her, who was God’s love to her, was dead.

Then the voice said, “Mary.”

Listen: your heart is likely not far from Mary’s.

You long to be known for who you really are, and loved. We all do. We fear both might not be possible: if our truths were known how could we be loved? Competing voices inside and outside us devalue us, challenge us, confuse us.

Maybe there have been moments you’ve sensed God knows you, loves you. Maybe others have told you this, have been God’s loving presence to you.

But there are other times. Like these days, when the world is falling apart, thousands of lives destroyed and marginalized for the sake of a few in power. When you fear for your neighbors’ lives and even your own. When you wonder where God is, where hope is.

And there are times you face your own internal pain, fears, worries. When shame and failure embrace you, and seem more real than God to you. Dark nights of the soul when you doubt God could love you. When you know nothing except that you feel alone.

But you came here tonight, and waited in the darkness.

Maybe you don’t know why. But then, almost like a miracle, a fire leapt up, and a candle bore a light. And that one flame, one solitary candle, divided and divided and divided but in truth multiplied and multiplied and multiplied. And filled this room with a glow of hope.

And in that light you saw faces, the people of the risen Christ, who said to you, as they lighted your own candle, “The Light of Christ.” The faces of people who know you by name, love you. People who will soon greet you again with “Peace be with you.” In those faces, you saw the face of Christ. And you were no longer alone or in the dark.

And then you heard words of hope in God’s salvation from Scripture, ancient words of a glorious creation, a daring sea rescue, an astonishing protection of people in the heart of a fire. You were invited by God’s Wisdom to be filled to the brim with God’s love and grace and healing that is yours through the Spirit.

And you heard once again, with Mary, that God’s love cannot be stopped even by death. A voice familiar to you came through the locked doors of your heart, and, risen from the dead, now stands beside you at the gravestones of your life. Offers you food for life in this bread and wine. Christ’s voice calls you by name here. Knows you.

Jesus called her “Mary.”

That’s when she knew. So it is for you and me this holy night.

We face many hard things, and we fear most of them. But Christ has faced them all – suffering, betrayal, loneliness, sadness, abandonment, pain, death. And none of them have any power over the risen Christ, over the love of the God who breaks death, who calls you by name, who knows you, who loves you.

Listen . . . nothing, nothing, can separate you from the love of God in Christ Jesus. Not this life, not death. Not your past. Not the present, not the future. Nothing.

So you don’t need to be afraid. This day is birthday for you, the day you come back to life.

And now all that remains is to be Mary. Go and tell others, and show them, by your love and grace and hope, that God’s life is still in this world and in them and in you. So they know they are known and loved by God always. And so this world can begin to be healed.

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

Jesus’ death declares an end to violence, hatred, and power as the way to live in the world, bringing in a new age of God’s healing love.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
Good Friday
Texts: Luke 22:51 (from Sunday’s Passion); Hebrews 10:16-25

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

“No more of this!”

While Jesus was arrested, a disciple took his sword and cut off the ear of a servant, Luke told us on Sunday, and Jesus shouted, “No more of this!” and healed the man. Tonight, in John’s version, Jesus commands Peter to put his sword away. Matthew says Jesus reminded the disciples in this moment that he could call down 72,000 angels to stop this arrest if he wanted.

Everything about the cross is Jesus saying: “No more of this!”

Jesus wasn’t a victim, the Gospels agree. Jesus died because he said “no more of this!”

He refused to use power to achieve his purpose – that the whole creation live in and under God’s endless love. Even though it meant not lifting a hand to save himself.

This is the message of Christ, the Son of God: violence and power and might cannot bring about God’s rule and reign. Only love willing to die for another can.

Our world has always believed power is the only way to get what we need and want.

You see it in the play of children, in the tension of the workplace, in the morass of politics, in families, in congregations. People inevitably resort to force of some kind to accomplish their will. Whether on a global scale or a personal one, it’s the same, just different weapons.

But it doesn’t work. For nearly 4,000 years, since Ishmael and Isaac, Jews and Arabs have fought each other. Killed each other. Hated each other. Have they accomplished anything except more bloodshed? “No more of this!”

For the length of human existence, people have forced or manipulated their will in families, in communities. Has it ever created loving, just relationships? Or even happiness? “No more of this!”

For the length of human existence, people have used war to accomplish their purposes. Are we any safer now? Any hope we’re entering an era of peace? “No more of this!”

For the length of human existence, people have ruled others with power to get what they want and to stay in power. It’s happening today, too. Has it ever been a good thing, a healing thing, for the world? For ordinary people? “No more of this!”

“No more of this!” could change everything.

In living God’s love and willingly facing death, Jesus shows the only way that can heal all creation, bring all God’s children together, and end the violence, hate, destruction, and oppression flooding the world.

And the thing is, we’ve seen it. In the fall of the Berlin wall, the end of apartheid in South Africa, the end of British rule in India: people stood in non-violent love and changed the world. We’ve seen it amongst ourselves, too, when love and forgiveness restored relationships, families, communities.

“No more of this!” Jesus says, hoping we’re ready to recognize in our families and in our communities, in our state and in our nation and in our world, that love like this is the only way to wholeness and healing.

This isn’t up for debate. At least not for the Triune God.

Even in the grief God has over the ways humans consistently reject God’s love, worship power and violence, ignore and increase the suffering of others, over the ways we use this world for our own gain at the expense of others, even in this pain, God’s answer is not to punish us, or even force us to love.

God’s answer is to let us take the Son of God to the cross. Love willing to lose everything brings life. Such a love can break our hearts and change us. Such a love can shake us out of our blind reliance on “the way the world works.” Such a love can say, “This is the Way. No more of any of this – no swords and violence and hatred and power and everything that goes with it.”

Tonight Hebrews says, “Let’s consider how to provoke one another to love and good deeds.” So let’s do just that. Ponder “no more of this!” with all our hearts. What it means for you, for me, for this world. And consider how we can provoke each other to this way of love. The only way to life.

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

Stay awake with Jesus in these Three Days, and learn to follow to the life God brings to you and to the world.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
Maundy Thursday
Texts: John 13:1-17, 31b-35; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26; all seen through the lens of Matthew 26:36-46, Jesus in Gethsemane.

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

All Jesus asked was “ stay awake”.

On the Mount of Olives outside of Jerusalem, late Thursday night, he took Peter, James, and John into the trees, where he prayed. He hoped they’d stay awake with him. They didn’t.

But we could stay awake with Jesus tonight. We only hear the Gethsemane story on Passion Sunday, not tonight, the night it happened. But the time in those olive trees later this evening reveals how we might walk with Jesus through the next few days, and even the rest of our lives.

So for a moment let’s go to Gethsemane:

³⁶ Then Jesus went with his disciples to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to them, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” ³⁷ He took with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee and began to be grieved and agitated. ³⁸ Then he said to them, “My soul is deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and stay awake with me.” ³⁹ And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me, yet not what I want but what you want.” ⁴⁰ Then he came to the disciples and found them sleeping, and he said to Peter, “So, could you not stay awake with me one hour? ⁴¹ Stay awake and pray that you may not come into the time of trial; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” ⁴² Again Jesus went away for the second time and prayed, “My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done.” ⁴³ Again Jesus came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were heavy. ⁴⁴ So leaving them again, he went away and prayed for the third time, saying the same words. ⁴⁵ Then he came to the disciples and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? Now the hour is at hand, and the Son-of-Humanity is betrayed into the hands of sinners. ⁴⁶ Get up, let us be going. Look, my betrayer is at hand.”    (Matthew 26:36-46)

Tonight Jesus returns to the beginning.

He began his ministry with “follow me.” But those words are now central to everything happening tonight and the next days. Jesus called people to follow the way of God’s love. He said it would mean taking up a burden like a cross. It would mean the loss of things dear to them but also the gain of God’s peace and joy. And in these Three Days the implications of “follow me” become clear.

If you follow Jesus, it means going to the Upper Room and learning to do what he did there. It means going to Gethsemane and learning what cup will be yours to endure. It means going to that forsaken hill of death outside Jerusalem and learning how it is your hill. And it also means going to a garden early Sunday morning to see what God is doing.

If you stay awake, you’ll see a path of servanthood for you in the Upper Room.

Watch closely this moment that centers our worship tonight, when Jesus strips off his robe and, dressed as a slave, kneels and washes the feet of his followers.

In doing this, Jesus is absolutely clear: I need you to follow me in doing this. To be willing to kneel down in love and do the most menial task for another person. To love one another as I have loved you.

If you stay awake for this hour in the Upper Room, you see what following Jesus looks like for you. It means being a servant in your love, just as Jesus was a servant in his.

Keep awake, though, because you’ll see something during this Meal, too.

When Jesus dramatically changed the Passover ritual, it had to have been shocking. Mary, Joanna, Peter, Thomas, what did they think? The Passover bread is shared, but he says, “Take this and eat it, it is my body given for you.” The Passover wine is shared, but he says, “Take this and drink it, it is my blood poured out for you.” What on earth is he doing?

If you stay awake, you’ll see he’s saying this: “following me means taking my whole life into you, my sacrificial love and suffering. When you eat this bread and drink this wine you are joined into what I am going to do tomorrow. You become part of my suffering and death. You become my body and my blood.”

So in this Meal, Christ takes you and breaks you open, and hands you to the world, saying, “Take this one, she is my body given for you.” “Take this one, he is my blood shed for you.” This is following Jesus: your body and blood broken, poured out, in your sacrificial love, for God’s healing of the world.

This is going to be hard. So stay awake in Gethsemane, too.

There Jesus spoke with the Father, inside the mystery of the Triune Life, about this cup he was to drink. This sacrifice of God’s own life and love for the world.

And he didn’t know if he could follow this path. That’s why he wanted them awake, why he wants you awake. To see how hard it was for Jesus.

If you’re still awake and following Jesus this far, you’ve already realized it’s going to be very hard. But now you see you’re following someone who knows how hard it is, who agonized over this path like you do. But who found the strength in God’s Spirit to be God’s life for the world. And now offers that strength to you.

And please notice something about what Jesus asks tonight.

What he commanded you, and me, was to serve the person in front of us. One person at a time, before whom we kneel and wash feet. One person at a time, to love as you have been loved. One person at a time, where you will sacrifice yourself out of love.

Don’t fret tonight about following this path “for the sake of the world.” Let Jesus handle the whole world. Just follow for the sake of that one person you’re with right now. And keep doing it for everyone you meet. It will mean Gethsemane moments of prayer and you’ll need the help of the Holy Spirit. But just serve and follow where you are.

And stay awake. Watch Jesus and learn. Pray for God’s strength to follow. Because in the early morning darkness very soon, you’ll see something even more astonishing about God’s love and life that will change everything.

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

Midweek Lent, 2025 + Love Does No Wrong to a Neighbor +
Week 5: Love does no wrong to a neighbor

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
Texts: Romans 12:1-3, 13:8-10; John 8:2-11

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

This is a disturbing scene.

A group of religious men, authority figures, have dragged a woman into the grounds of the Temple and thrown her at Jesus’ feet. They lurk in a semi-circle around Jesus and this woman for all the public to see. The salacious details are they’ve caught her in the act of adultery. But where’s the person she was committing adultery with? If they truly cared about sin, there’d be two people brought to Jesus.

But they’ve got a bigger fish to fry. They want to expose Jesus as someone who doesn’t care about God’s law. They want him to prove publicly and beyond doubt that he is against the Torah. And they’ll threaten this woman’s life to do it. It’s a revolting sight.

So Jesus changes the visuals.

He kneels down and starts writing in the dirt. Far too much speculation focuses on what Jesus wrote in the dust at their feet. But that literally misses the bigger picture.

A group of men hovers over a woman cringing in submission and fear, knowing her life is on the line. And Jesus, who is standing, kneels. Now he’s lower than the woman, lower than her accusers. He will not stand over her. And he shames them in their standing.

Jesus utterly turns the tables. Suddenly the accusers are the uncomfortable and embarrassed ones. Suddenly they’re on trial instead of Jesus, or the woman.

If we’ve learned anything these Lenten Wednesdays, it’s that nothing can get between us and loving our neighbor.

Poverty, different faiths, our own discomfort with connecting with people, sickness, hunger, our privilege and wealth, none can keep us from this love we are called to give.

This isn’t news to these scribes and Pharisees. It’s core to their Scriptures, the heart of God’s Torah: love God with your whole heart, mind, soul, and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself.

So the picture of people who claim those Scriptures trying to keep those Scriptures by destroying their sister is awful. Keep that scene in your mind. No sense of right and wrong, no understanding of sin, can ever lead you to stand over another person in anger clamoring for their punishment.

Paul says today that love does no wrong to a neighbor, therefore love fulfills Torah. This is the only acceptable stance for a follower of Christ. If what you do, think, pray for, act on, decide, leads to harming your neighbor, you have to stop. No faithfulness to God you can claim overrides the command “do no wrong to your neighbor.”

There’s no question this woman sinned, if in fact she was caught in adultery.

Jesus seems to prove the leaders right about his view of Torah. He doesn’t appear to care that she broke God’s law. He cares a lot that they want to kill her so they can catch him in a trap.

So Jesus says, “If you’ve never sinned, you can throw a stone.” He instantly reminds her accusers, and everyone in the crowd, and us, that selective judging of sin is a lie. Everyone has done things contrary to love of God and love of neighbor, everyone has sinned.

Jesus doesn’t say what the woman did was right. He says if sin is the excuse you use to do wrong to a neighbor, then you should be honest about your own sin.

And doesn’t that hit home? How easy it is for us to pick and choose which sins we want to call out, which wrongdoing we’re indignant about? We judge some people harshly. These times we’re in have proved that. We let others get a free pass. And if we look at ourselves with Jesus’ words, can any of us hold our stone? Aren’t we all humbled, needing to drop the stone and shuffle away as quietly as we can?

Nothing can get in the way of your love of God and love of neighbor. Not even your neighbor’s sin. Or yours.

And to love this way, we need to be changed.

The only way we can love as Jesus calls us to love is if we become like him. We can’t understand or live in Christ’s way if our minds think as they normally think. So, “be transformed by the renewing of your minds,” Paul says, “that you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.” Be transformed, Paul says, changed by the Holy Spirit into the Christ you are called to be.

Then you become someone who finally, simply, consistently loves God and neighbor with all your heart, soul, mind and strength. Who doesn’t argue with God about this, or test God about this, or petulantly try to preserve a tiny piece of your own self-righteousness. You become a new creation.

At the end, the woman walks away, standing straight, no one attacking her.

Jesus recognizes her sin, but doesn’t condemn her. He just says, “now go and stop sinning.”

And that’s our gift. Jesus’ words today call all our own sins to our mind, and we slump in shame. But the Son of God’s answer to that shame and sin is the same as in this story: I don’t condemn you. Go, and don’t sin anymore. Let me transform you. Let me make you new, so you are like me.

So, whatever you might imagine that woman felt as she walked out of the Temple grounds that day, that’s Christ’s gift to you.

And in the Holy Spirit you are transformed. To become God’s true love in this world. For your neighbor. For all.

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