If someone asked you to speak plainly about who Jesus is, what would you say?  What would you tell them you hear when you hear the Good Shepherd’s voice?

Vicar Andrea Bonneville
Fourth Sunday of Easter, year C 
Texts: Acts 9:36-43, Psalm 23, John 10:22-30

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

How do you know the voice of the Triune God?

It seems like both a simple and impossible question to answer.  But if you were standing in the crowd as one of Jesus’ sheep and they asked you to speak plainly about who Jesus is, what would you say?  What would you tell them you hear when you hear the Good Shepherd’s voice?

By this point in his ministry, Jesus has given people around him numerous examples and explanations about who he is and what he entered the world to do. He has performed miracles, healed the sick, challenged the authorities, fed the hungry, and set the oppressed free. He boldly proclaimed in words and through deeds that he has come to care for and seek out the ones who are lost, lonely, wandering, or following an unknown voice.

It is safe to assume that the people asking to hear who Jesus is from Jesus himself already have a perception and understanding of who he is, just like many people in our world know about Jesus.

But do they hear about Jesus from a creditable source?  Or is what they have heard mixed together with the noises of this world that suggest that power, control, and maintaining the status quo are what we should strive for.

Has the voice of the Triune God become quiet because of all of the noise pollution? 

Constant streams of breaking news stories that scream hatred and control and ignorance. Violence in our communities that cause harm and fear. Loud opinions of people who believe they can have control over other people’s bodies, and who they love, and what they learn. The nagging voice in ourselves that tries to convince us that we aren’t good enough, or that we can’t ask for help when we need it. 

My ears are ringing thinking about all the noises we listen to day in and day out that try to drown out the voice of the Triune God. And what challenges me is that I don’t know how to quiet the noise. I don’t know how to live in our society or in my community without being drawn to the noise. And I’ve heard many of you share similar experiences of trying to quiet and escape the polluted noise.

Our task at hand is to be able to hear all the noise and discern what really is the voice of the Triune God in our lives. The voice that tells you you matter, that you are loved, and that you are forgiven. The voice that shows us how to do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with God (Micah 6:8).

Not only do we listen with our ears, discerning what is the voice of the Triune God and what is not, but we listen and discern with our whole bodies. So that when we hear God’s voice, through creation and our neighbors, through music and story, through tears and joy, we hear the voice of God deep in our bones and deep in our hearts. The voice that is already there. 

And when the noise really is too loud, we find a familiar sound and keep turning back to that.  A song, a poem, scripture, the voice of a trusted friend, the call of the Good Shepherd calling us back to the pasture that is filled with community, love, and nourishment. 

A place where we can rest until we follow the Good Shepherd out into the world proclaiming the healing and reconciling good news we find in the Triune God. Speaking plainly, and loudly, and frequently so our neighbors and our enemies can hear the good news of God’s unconditional and transforming love and forgiveness.

It may seem like a big task, but it isn’t a new task.  And it isn’t a task that we do alone. We follow in the foots steps of the saints who have gone before us and paved a way of helping us to hear and know and trust and experience and share God’s love.  People who have been and continue to be voices in our community that lead us to God.

That is who Tabitha was in her community. A voice of God that transformed her community through the way she loved, served, and cared for the widows and marginalized in her community.  I imagine her sewing shop was filled with noise—with laughter, tears, and unconditional love.  That it was a place where people knew to go when they needed help and care.  That they turned to Tabitha who was a living presence of God and a cornerstone to a beloved community.

And Tabitha’s spirit, the Holy Spirit that was in Tabitha, is also in us. We all are the presence of God in the world. And with God’s help, we use our voices, our bodies, our talents, our hearts to show people and tell people about the abundant life and eternal life we have in God.

That catch is that it isn’t as much about knowing God’s voice amidst all the noise. It’s about being God’s voice and sharing God’s love. Being the cornerstone, being the pasture where people know they will hear the voice of the Good Shepherd and find nourishment.

The voice that says:  I know you and I love you. You belong to me and I will care for you.

Amen.  

Jesus Christ comes to us as the one who serves and leads us into lives of service and love. 

Vicar Andrea Bonneville
Sunday of the Passion, year C 
Texts: Philippians 2: 5-11; Luke 22:12–23:56

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

“But I am among you as one who serves.”

Jesus tells his disciples at their final meal together. It is what his mother, Mary, sang before he was born. It is what he showed and told them throughout his entire ministry. “I am the one who came to bring good news to the poor, who proclaims release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, who lets the oppressed go free, and who proclaims the year of the Lord’s favor.”

“But I am among you as one who serves.”

Jesus exemplifies to the crowd and the powers that be as they mock him, torture him, and brutally execute him by nailing him on a cross. Using his very last breath to overcome evil with unconditional love. “Forgive them”, he says, “for they do not know what they are doing.”

“But I am among you as one who serves.”

Jesus reminds you today as we remember his death on the cross and his going to the grave. The Christ of God emptied himself of divine power and control. Christ humbled himself and served us and took on our humanity and everything that comes with living in human skin: pain, sin, suffering, violence, destruction, and death.  

Jesus shows us self-giving, vulnerable, and unconditional love. Love that cannot be contained by the evil of the world. Love that doesn’t stay buried in the ground.

This love that we hear about today has already taken root in our world.  It’s rooted in compassion and healing, forgiveness and service.  Rooted in speaking truth to power and advocating for the oppressed. Rooted in prayer and lament and praise. Rooted in the water and bread and wine.  Rooted in you, and me, and all of God’s creation.

And it is just waiting to sprout and bring forth the newness of life.

But love, and healing, and forgiveness, and compassion, and service cannot and will not sprout without you, without this community, without all of God’s beloved carrying our spices and ointments, our tears and our hearts, to the graves of our world with minds and hearts open to see what can heal and transform.

We turn toward our neighbors, our friends, and our enemies. We turn toward the brokenness and pain of the world, with the same mind and heart that was in Christ when he ate with his disciples and washed their feet.  The same heart that healed sick, welcomed the outcasted, and loved without limits. The same heart that was on that cross. The same heart that breaks from the pain and heals with kindness and love.

Because the love and forgiveness that they tried to kill on the cross and bury. The love that challenged power and evil, and brings forth a new way of life is the love that is waiting to sprout in your heart and mind.

This week, this Holy week, we open our ears and hearts and minds to listen to the one among us who serves.  We listen to the one who heals and transform. The one who loves and forgives. We listen to the one who says “do this in remembrance of me.”

And we wait and watch for the one who comes in peace, blooming love and forgiveness that continues to transform lives and heal our world.  Christ Jesus whose Spirit is in you among you as one who serves.  

Amen.

 

 

God’s unconditional love and embrace leads us to a ministry of reconciliation with our siblings in Christ. 

Vicar Andrea Bonneville
The Fourth Sunday in Lent, year C 
Texts: 2 Corinthians 5:16-21; Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

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

God loves you, no exceptions.
You are welcome here, no exceptions.

This is the message of the father to both of his sons in our Gospel reading for today. It is the unconditional love and embrace of the parent who rejoices that his family is together again. It’s the unconditional love of God who welcomes and embraces you, and me, and the people we embrace and the people we turn away from.

One of the biggest lies the world tells us is that God’s love is conditional. The world wants us to believe that if we sin, we are unworthy.  It wants us to believe that we have to earn God’s love and that there is a scarcity of love.

It suggests that if one person receives love and forgiveness, it will somehow take away from the opportunity for us to experience the same love and forgiveness.  These lies divide us, and they destroy relationships and communities.

But the father in our Gospel story today doesn’t fall captive to this lie. The father shows us that God’s loving embrace is unconditional.  The father doesn’t use his power to favor one son over the other but rather unconditionally loves and embraces both of them.

He doesn’t suggest that loving one son unconditionally will take away from the love that he has for his other son. The father loves both of his children with all of his heart and celebrates that his family is together again.

This is a story of reconciliation between a son and a father, but it isn’t a story of reconciliation for a whole community.  The unconditional love and forgiveness is healing for the younger son, but it upsets and challenges the eldest son.

When the story ends, all we know is that the eldest son is upset and perhaps confused by his father’s actions. We don’t know if the eldest son attends the celebration. We don’t know if the brothers reconcile with each other.

This is where the Gospel story ends and our story begins.  

We know that God’s children are divided and it is our calling to join in the work of reconciliation so that all may receive the love and forgiveness that comes from the Triune God.  Our calling is to act out of the unconditional love and grace that we experience so that all may know that they are loved and embraced by God.

But just like the ministry of reconciliation between the sons cannot and will not happen unless the father unconditionally embraces both of his sons, we cannot begin the ministry of reconciliation unless we experience and trust the unlimited and unconditional love that God has for all of God’s children.

We have to trust and hope that God’s love for us is enough to break down walls of fear and hate that divide us to see the love of God that is within all of humanity and creation.

We have to turn away from patterns that convince us that we have to do more or be more or have more. Patterns that convince us that our gender, sexuality, skin color, work ethic, wealth, or possessions change the love that God has for us and our neighbors.

And when we turn away from what divides, we turn toward what unites us which at the bear minimum is that we are unconditionally loved and forgiven by God.  The ministry of reconciliation begins with our relationship to God, and it quickly turns to our relationships with our neighbors.

As siblings in Christ, we have to figure out how to reconcile with each other. We have to love unconditionally and forgive unconditionally, especially the people we don’t expect or want to see in God’s embrace. 

Because the reality is that no matter how much someone hurts us, or challenges us, or confuses us, God has already reconciled with them just like God reconciles with you today.  

God’s love for you has no exceptions.
You are welcome here there are no exceptions.

Now this life saving and healing work of reconciliation is up to us, so that all people may know the unconditional love and embrace of God. So that all may feast on God’s grace and mercy together, now and forever.

Amen.

 

 

It’s the Triune God who is the breath and heartbeat that gives life to our dusty bodies so that we may live, until we return.

Vicar Andrea Bonneville
Ash Wednesday, year C 
Texts: Joel 2: 1-2, 12-17, Matthew 6: 1-6, 16-21 

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

Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.

Today we remember our mortality, the very reality that we live in bodies that aren’t perfect, bodies that will hurt and be hurt, bodies that will one day die and return to the earth. We remember that our bodies were created with the love of the Triune God out of the dust of the earth and filled with the Spirit, the same Spirit that flows through our shared life with all of creation.

We don’t necessarily need to be gathered here today to be reminded about the realities of death and sin and suffering. The past two years have been a constant confrontation of disease, injustice, grief, loneliness, and death. Our hearts are fatigued and heavy from daily reminders of these realities.

We have had to be on high alert, changing the actions of our day to day lives to make sure that we and our neighbors stay safe. We’ve read books, consumed media, and learned how we can adapt and change our actions and attitudes to better love our neighbors and creation.

We’ve been doing our part step by step and living in this way exposed the treasures of our hearts and the gift of our shared humanity. It opened our eyes to see the world in a different way. It opened our hands to want to act and serve and our minds to learn. We’ve been forced to act in the present and long for a hope filled future for all of God’s creation.  

Living with the realities of sin and mortality taught us a lot about suffering and death, but even more so it taught us about our humanity—what in life gives our dusty bodies the breath, passion, love, and joy we needed to sustain us and give us hope.

In Lent, we journey with Jesus as he goes to the cross and the grave.  And as we do this, we encounter his humanity, his dusty body that held the same Spirit that gives us life. The Triune God dwelled in our world radiating love, peace, forgiveness, and justice so that even in the cloudiness of our world our lives can reflect light and love.  

Jesus reminds us that our bodies aren’t the empty vessels of sin and shame as the world tries to make us believe. Our bodies are treasure chests of grace and love, filled with the Spirit who dwells in each of us as we bear the image of God for all to see.

But what do we do on the days when we are feeling extra dusty, on days when the shadows of the world prevent us from seeing the Triune God active in our bodies and our world?

What happens when we sin against our neighbors and creation or when our bodies and spirits become ill and burdened?

What do we do when our hearts are saddened and grieved when the bodies we love experience pain or return to dust?

Where do we go when we can’t escape the pain, violence, injustice, and destruction in our world?

“Yet even now,” says the LORD, “return to me with all your heart.”

“Restore to me the joy,” sings the Psalmist.

“Be reconciled to God,” says Paul on behalf of Christ.

“Return,” says the prophet Joel, because “God is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love.”

The promise of this return, returning to God and the fullness of who God has created us to be, is why we need to be gathered here today, why we need to be in community praying, singing, and feasting together.

So that we, together, can come before God in worship and praise with fasting, and weeping, and mourning. We can join our hearts together in prayer and voices together in song to lament the brokenness of our world and hope for God’s mercy and justice to rise.  We come to know the love and peace that surpasses our understanding and cling to God who is love and peace.  

Returning again and again to God with our full humanity asking God to transform our lives so that we can experience comfort, healing, and love. And so we can reflect God’s love, justice, and mercy into our world.

As ashes are marked on your forehead today, remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return. And also remember that you are love and to love you shall return. That you are hope and to hope you shall return. That you are grace and to grace you shall return. That you are God’s beloved and to God you shall return.

In the returning to God, in remembering of our humanity among others and alongside all of creation, the love and grace of God dwells in our hearts, it flows through in our veins, it returns us to who we are and whose we are, called to follow Jesus in the midst of the pain and suffering, death and destruction so all know the power of the Triune God who gives life and hope to our lives and our world.

It’s the Triune God who is the breath and heartbeat that gives life to these dusty bodies so that we may live, until we return.

Amen.

God’s presence and love is among us, it’s transforming us, it’s leading us, even as we continue to learn and listen to what this means here and now for the sake of all that God has created. 

Vicar Andrea Bonneville
Transfiguration of Our Lord, year C 
Texts: Luke 9:28-36

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

We are living in a time of cloudiness.
And it can be hard to see and hear and discern God’s presence.

Our world is clouded with hatred, discrimination, injustice, and oppression. Our lives are clouded with lies that tell us that we are unworthy and lead us to be filled with guilt and shame. Power and money are what people strive for, especially when we are shown and told that if you have enough money and power, you should be able to control any body, any country, any thing.

The more pain and grief and loss that we experience or the more pain and suffering we see our neighbors experiencing the more our vision becomes cloudy and we have to figure out how to discern God’s presence in our lives, our communities, and our world.

But this is why we are here today.

And that is why Peter and John and James where on the mountain top with Jesus on that day. The day when they saw, heard, and experienced God’s glory, even though it was confusing and terrifying.

Like us, they needed to see and experience for themselves God’s glory. But even after seeing the physical transformation of Jesus, hearing Jesus’ talk with Elijah and Moses about his departure and death on the cross, and hearing the voice in the cloud proclaim Jesus’ identity as the Son of God, the Chosen one.

Even after of all of this, we don’t know if the disciples actually knew what was happening.

Luke’s Gospel tells us that they went up on the mountain top with Jesus to pray. And while Jesus was praying his appearance transformed and suddenly, he was talking with Moses and Elijah about his departure and what he would accomplish on the cross. 

We are told that Peter and James and John were there, but they were weighed down with sleep trying to stay awake to see Jesus’ glory and hear about what was happening.

Peter tries to comprehend, offering care and hospitality, but we are told he doesn’t have a clue what is going on. Nevertheless, he tried to act and make sense of what was happening because he must have sensed that it was important.  

But then the cloud appeared and it overshadowed them and they were terrified. They heard a voice say “This is my Son, my Chosen; Listen to him!”  And then Jesus was found alone.

This is how this mountain top experience ends.

We don’t hear about the cloud separating to give way for the sun to shine again. We don’t hear if they talked with Jesus, their friend, to try to learn more about what just happened. We don’t know if their emotions change or if they continued to be terrified.   

All we know is that eventually they went down the mountain and kept silent, not talking about the transfiguration and transformation they witnessed and experienced.

It seems like the cloud did more than terrify them, it clouded their lives. Before the cloud appeared, Peter was at least trying to make sense of what has happening, engaged in what was going on, but after the voice spoke from the cloud, he also remained silent.

Perhaps what they then understood was too much for them to share, or maybe they didn’t think that people would believe what they had experience, or maybe they still had no idea what was going on and instead of talking, they stayed silent so that they could continue to listen to Jesus, as he journeyed toward the cross.

But even if they didn’t talk about what they experienced, we know that they continued to follow Jesus. And we know that for them, continuing to follow Jesus meant entering the sin and suffering and death and destruction of the world.

And this is our task today.

Even with our confused and terrified hearts, with pain and hurt, we follow Jesus to the mountain tops and into the valleys of our world attempting to keep our eyes, ears, and hearts open to see where God’s glory is transfiguring and transforming our world.  

We pray that God clears the cloudiness of our vision so that we are able see, listen, and discern who God is calling us to be and where God is calling us to act with love and service.  We do things with love and care, even if we don’t understand the full picture of what is happening. 

And at times, we remain silent and open our ears to listen to God and we pray to be in communion with God asking God to lead us and guide us.

We trust and hope and believe that we will be transformed so that we can bear God’s light and love and be the sun that shines through the cloudiness of our lives so that all people may know that love that we have in the Triune God. God with us who gives us and all creation the hope and nourishment we need to sustain, and grow, and transform.

God’s presence and love is among us, it’s transforming us, it’s leading us, even as we continue to learn and listen to what this means here and now for the sake of all that God has created.

Amen.