Jesus appears to the disciples and asks them if they have anything to eat. They give him broiled fish and recall their ministry of the past and are called to be a witness to Christ’s peace.

Vicar Andrea Bonneville
Third Sunday after Easter, Year B 
Text: Luke 24:36b-48

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

They saw their beloved publicly executed for a crime he did not commit as they watched, even at a distance, all the things that had happened (Luke 23). Mourning the death of their beloved who died at the hands of people who enforced the law, they gathered on that day, terrified and doubting, attempting to put together their fragmented pieces of hope to make sense of the reality of the past and piece together their future.

And then their beloved appeared. Again.

Fully embodied in a human body with flesh and bones and wounds. And they didn’t know if what they were seeing was real. Because why would they? The fresh and raw experience of death and injustice consumed their thoughts. Wondering what they should have done differently. Asking how they had been complacent.  Seeking answers for why and challenging how something like this could happen again and again.  It led them to believe that resurrection wasn’t possible; they needed evidence to hope and reassurance to be filled with joy.

So Jesus asked if they had something to eat.

The embodiment of the Triune God goes to the disciples who gathered in that room. The risen Christ shows up to people who are grieving, looks them in the eyes, says peace be with you, and then asks them if they have anything to eat.

And they gave him broiled fish.

Fish that they probably went out and caught early that morning because even in their mourning fishing was what they knew how to do. When Jesus asks them for food they look around and they see that fish and it is the ah ha moment.

And like how the smell of bread reminds me of my grandmother’s kitchen and her love for me, the disciples see Jesus eat the fish and they see an embodiment of love that took on everything that was broken and unjust and rose bringing peace and reconciliation to all of creation.

The fish reminds them of when they were by their fishing boats, exhausted from a long day of fishing without a catch, and Jesus boarded the boat and suddenly their nets were filled till they broke. Remembering what it felt like to trust in the Word of God and live into their vocation.

Or maybe their minds wandered to when they only had the two fish and a few loaves of bread and Jesus told them to feed the people. They watched as the little resource they had turned into an abundance and all the people where filled. Reminding them of what it felt like to provide food and love to the people in their community.  

Or maybe their minds went back to the last time they were all gathered around the table, breaking bread and drinking wine together, being reminded of what it felt like to be in community together and feel love. And then be told to go out and share that love (Luke 22).

The broiled fish was the food they ate the most of; it was so common in their everyday lives that they forgot it had significance to their identity of who God had called them to be and their identity of what it meant to be a follower of Jesus.  

So what is our broiled fish today?  What helps us when we are filled with fear and doubt see the risen Christ in our communities in our lives?

I don’t know what the broiled fish is for you because my assumption is that the broiled fish is different in all of our lives. But what I can say is this: the tangible thing that helps us to see the resurrected Christ in our community is as much a part of our identity as followers of Christ as fish was to the identity of the disciples who gathered in that room on that day. 

We know there are things in our everyday lives that make us look back to the bad things that have happened in our past and if we are being honest with ourselves there are times and places when that is what is needed and necessary, especially when we have to ask hard questions about our privilege in this society.

But we also need the tangible things; a tune of a song, the sound of children laughing, a Bible story, the smell of a home cooked meal, feeding and caring for our neighbors, that help us look back and see the goodness and love of the risen Christ.

Who on that day and on this day is coming to us and our community looking us in the eyes and saying peace be with you and then calling us to witness to these things.

So we bear witness in our community as we mourn the death and cry out for justice for Duante Wright, George Floyd, Adam Toledo, and countless other who have died at the hands of the broken system of violent policing.  Wondering what we can differently. Asking how we have been complacent.  Seeking answers for why and challenging how something like this could happen again and again. 

We have the evidence and we have the reassurance in the hope and joy that the risen Christ in our community and in our lives. Find where you can touch it, feel it, eat it, and see it.

Because we are the witnesses of hope and the embodiment of Christ’s peace.

Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Through Christ’s love and forgiveness for all, we seek to follow Christ’s commandment to love all, even when it is challenges us. 

Vicar Andrea Bonneville
Maundy Thursday, Year B 
Texts: John 13:1-17, 31b-35

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

It doesn’t make sense.

Perhaps this is what Peter was thinking as Jesus began washing the disciple’s feet. Why would Jesus wash my feet? I am the one that should be washing his. Why would Jesus serve me? I know there are people who need this far more than I do. Why me? It just doesn’t make sense.

This is the dialogue I imagine is running through Peter’s head as Jesus prepares to wash his feet. It doesn’t make sense so Peter resists it, at first. It seems to me like we’ve all been in Peter’s position before, struggling to make sense of or resisting an act of service and love, even when the source of love and service comes from God.

As Peter resists having his feet washed, Jesus says, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.” Peter hardly has time to process Jesus’ words and actions before Jesus, the face of the Triune God, invites all the disciples to share in God’s healing and reconciliation in the world that is shown through Christ’s love and service.

The phrase “it doesn’t make sense” is what we say sometimes when we seek further clarification or we don’t fully understand what is being explained to us. And it is what we say when something is truly incomprehensible. It’s a response to shock when we look at a situation are not able to answer why? Or how?

There is a lot that doesn’t make sense in our world, our communities, our lives. It’s likely that we have made some peace with this. Peace with the idea that there are a lot of things we don’t know and even more things that are out of our control. 

We make peace.…  and then a pandemic happens and it shakes our core… then police brutality and gun violence happen and they shake our core…  something always comes along and leaves us putting fragmented pieces together trying to makes sense of the sin, violence, and oppression in us and around us.

We hear from the thirteenth chapter of John today, when Jesus gathers with his friends even with Judas who will eventually betray him. We hear about this last gathering, but the lectionary cuts out the betrayal of Judas. We don’t hear the story maybe because it doesn’t make sense. Why would Jesus wash Judas’ feet? How can betrayal and unconditional love exist at the same time? How do we show such love as washing our betrayer’s feet? It doesn’t make sense. It’s almost unimaginable.

We live in a world that suggests we should be able to rationalize everything. We are told that certain people don’t deserve unconditional love, that even we, at times, don’t deserve love and forgiveness Christ brings.

But Jesus puts aside what makes sense and helps us imagine how life will look like when we live out of our identity as God’s beloved.  We live out of Jesus’ love, because the reality of our life is this:  healed people heal people, forgiven people forgive people, and loved people love people.  We don’t just hold one part of this identity, but this identity encompasses all of who we are.

Healed, forgiven, loved. By Christ, who shows us and commands us to be the embodiment of God’s love even when it doesn’t make sense.

Jesus says: Do you know what I have done to you?  I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.

I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love on another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.

The commandment is to love as Christ has loved us.  How do we do this?  We do this through service and caring for our neighbors. We do this by embodying God’s love and proclaiming that God’s love is for all.  We imitate Jesus’ love and action regardless if we understand why or know how the Holy Spirit is working within it.

The commandment to love doesn’t come with a condition.  It comes with an unconditional promise. The triune God’s encompassing love on the cross, it just doesn’t make sense, not because we don’t understand what it means on the surface.  But because the cross is going to lead us into places in which we don’t have all the answers, places that filled with suffering, places that challenge what it means to be a Christian community.

Today and in the days ahead, God’s indescribable and unconditional love for us with be shown for all of creation. God’s love pours out for all of us regardless of who we are because God created us out of love, to be loved, and to share love. There is nothing more central to the identity of who we are or who God is. 

Christ’s love is for you, Christ’s love is for all.

Proclaim this because with God it will always make sense.

Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We look for Jesus, the face of the Triune God, in our lives and our communities hoping to see God’s healing and forgiveness. 

Vicar Andrea Bonneville
Fifth Sunday of Lent, Year B
Texts: Jeremiah 31:31-34  John 12:20-33

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 want to see Jesus”

It really is a simple and common request. We ask to see Jesus in our lives through our prayers, scripture reading, worship, and service.  We ask to see Jesus as we move throughout our day seeking to see the work of the Triune God in our lives, our communities, and our world.

How? Or when?  Did you ask to see Jesus, the face of the Triune God, this past week?  

In today’s Gospel reading, we hear a request to see Jesus.  It isn’t the first time and it won’t be the last time that the people of God plea for the presence of the Triune God to be known to us.

We don’t know the whole story behind why the people want to see Jesus, but I imagine they all had a different hope for what they would see if they saw Jesus. Whatever their reason, they probably weren’t expecting the response they received.

Jesus doesn’t walk out into the crowd and greet the people who seek him.  Instead, a transformation in Jesus’ ministry is happening and soon people aren’t going to see Jesus in the ways that they have been taught or told.  Soon, they are going to learn a different way of being in relationship with the Triune God.

John’s Gospel alludes to when Jesus will be lifted up in front of the crowds on a cross and that Jesus will fall into the earth and resurrect out of the earth. “We want to see Jesus” is the request, and the response is that Jesus soon will be seen on the cross for the sake of all creation for the reconciliation of all humanity.

The people gathered to see Jesus will learn the insight that has already been made know to us through Jesus’ death on the cross and resurrection. 

To see Jesus is to see the Triune God in the midst of the sin and suffering of our world in ways and places that we don’t expect to see life, love, and forgiveness.

II

A few years ago, I traveled to El Paso, Texas to participate in a border immersion program to learn, see, and listen to the immigration experience. I didn’t know what I expecting to see, but my heart was searching to see Jesus. For me, seeing Jesus was to see the embodiment of God’s love, forgiveness, and transformation happening in a place where all I had heard about was the oppression of people seeking a new and safe future for their families.

One of the days, we had the opportunity to visit with a member of the congregation leading this program. Anna had lived in the US for about 25 years, coming here to seek medical care for her daughter who needed surgery. She was able to seek asylum her with her daughter, but the rest of her family were denied.  She hasn’t been able to see her family for 25 years because if she did, they would all be at risk of extreme violence.

I remember being invited into Anna home and listening to her story. I was drawn into her story, but I found myself putting up a guard, turning my eyes and ears away because listening to her story broke my heart.  Maybe you have had an experience like this?  Wanting to lean into listen, but then realizing the pain was too great so you turn away. If you are like me, you might turn to wanting to fix the problem rather than just sitting and listening.  While I was busy trying to fix the injustice of the entire immigration system in my head, I turned away from Anna’s story while Anna continued to share with us her experience.

Pain and suffering were only part of Anna’s story, but it wasn’t what consumed her.  Through Christ, she explained, she found the strength to proclaim God’s steadfast love for her family and grace towards the powers that oppressed her and her family.  She shared about the passion she had for providing care and support to young immigrant parents and their families, about serving food to her neighbors, and about teaching Sunday school.

Out of her love for Christ, Anna embodied the love and service of Jesus. Reminding me and teaching me not to turn way from looking for the ways the Triune God is transforming our hearts, our lives, and our communities.

III

We are constantly looking for Jesus. It’s easy to live by the way of this world and let destruction, violence, and sin have the final say, but the promise is that Christ is present our suffering and the suffering of the world.

When we look for Jesus, we look for Jesus on the cross, not because it’s Jesus’ permanent residence, but because the cross is the ultimate place where forgiveness and reconciliation happen, when all creation is drawn to the forgiveness of Christ.

It is where we experience unconditional love and forgiveness so that we can move outward and see the presence of God and be the presence of God as an act of radical hope and promise.

Seeing Jesus in unexpected places transforms our world. Because seeing Jesus, as the face of Christ in others, moves us to extend compassion and empathy and forgiveness that can really bring healing to our communities.

And when we see the face of Christ in our neighbor, it makes it really hard to hate or fear or turn away from the pain our neighbor.  And when we see the face of Christ in our ourselves, it is hard to dislike ourselves and turn away for the calling God has placed on our hearts.  

Five-hundred years before God entered this world in human flesh, God was speaking through the prophet Jeremiah to people who knew deep in their bones the pain and suffering caused by oppression, violence, and destruction from the powers of this world.

God says through the prophet Jeremiah, “for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest […] for I will forgive their iniquity and remember their sin no more.”  This divine forgiveness is the foundation for how God enters into relationship with all of creation.

Forgiveness, rooted in unconditional and steadfast love, is the law, the instruction, that God engraves on our hearts.  So that with every beat of our hearts, this love and forgiveness flows throughout our entire body.  

To see Jesus is to be bold and dare to look within the suffering of this world and proclaim “Christ is here”. Hoping for and opening our lives to see and bring forgiveness and healing.

Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

God’s unconditional promise of peace and unconditional love is enacted through our baptismal identities and we, with God, remember the goodness of all of God’s creation and our calling to care for all of God’s creation.

Vicar Andrea Bonneville
First Sunday of Lent, Year B
Texts: Genesis 9:8-17, Psalm 25:1-10, Mark 1:9-15

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

I can’t quite describe the feelings I had on Ash Wednesday, but it felt different to be sitting at my dining room table, placing ashes on my forehead, and remembering that I am dust and to dust I shall return.

Maybe the feeling was sadness? Sadness that was connected to the grief about everything that has been lost and everyone that we have lost over this past year?

Maybe the feeling was comfort? Comfort from acknowledging our imperfections and the need of repentance? Comfort from being seen and loved for who we are?

Maybe the feeling was joy as we heard God’s promise or the feeling was relief? Relief from experiencing and knowing God’s power to create life out of dust and return life back to God’s creation?

I’m guessing all of us were consumed by different emotions as we marked ourselves and/or our family with ashes and proclaimed remember…

The psalmist today also proclaims remember. But this time the psalmist is calling on God to remember…

Remember, O LORD, your compassion and love, for they are from everlasting.Remember not the sins of my youth and my transgressions.
Remember me according to your steadfast love and for the sake of your goodness, O LORD.

The psalmist reminds us of times and places, situations and experiences we have been in the wilderness and have cried out to God saying, remember us!

It makes me wonder what Noah and his family experienced during the flood while they were in the Ark.  

A story that many of us heard in our youth, takes on a new meaning as we learn about violence, destruction, genocide, and natural disaster. The story of the flood leaves us asking more questions than we have answers for as to why God would wipe out almost all of creation, exchanging violence for violence.Our questioning might feel similar to questions that we often ask God. Wondering if God is with us in the midst of suffering and violence or not? Questions that we ask as we try to discern God’s presence and actions in our world and in our daily lives.  

In our first reading for today, we hear the covenant, the promise, that God makes with Noah and his family and all of creation after the flood. God’s promise is a promise of peace to never again wipe out the earth. God then says that God will make a sign of the covenant by placing God’s bow in the clouds. A sign for God to remember the promise that God makes with all of creation.

When God makes this promise with humanity, a transformation happens and God who once was angry at what God created is transformed to see the unconditional love and goodness that God’s creation had from the very beginning.

God says again and again, I will remember. I will remember. And in this covenant, God promises to do the heavy lifting in this two-way relationship between God and all of creation.

The bow, that we understand to be a rainbow in the sky, is also thought to be a reflection of a bow as a weapon that symbolizes God laying down God’s weapon and exchanging it for peace and love.

By hanging God’s weapon in the clouds, God changes God’s mind and promises to enter into a relationship of peace with all creation. Looking to the headlines and in our own community shows us why we and God need to be reminded of humanities goodness. The bow then is a remember for God about the beautiful creation that God has created and a reminder for us of God’s promise of peace.

This promise doesn’t end in this covenant, but the arch of the rainbow leads right to the incarnation of Christ. God entering human flesh and showing us through Christ’s ministry and death on the cross that God was very serious about the promise of peace and unconditional love.The promise is sealed as the arch of the rainbow connects God’s promise with Noah and all of creation with the promise that God makes in the waters of baptism.  God enters into human flesh and enters into new creation, one filled with God’s mercy, justice, and steadfast love.

At the river Jordan, Jesus is baptized and voice from heaven proclaims, you are my son, the beloved, with you I am well pleased. Then the Spirit drives Jesus into the wilderness where he is tempted by Satan, with wild beasts, and the angels waited on him.

In the wilderness Jesus is tempted and Jesus is transformed.  Much like what happens to us when we are in the wilderness journey experiencing temptation from evil structures and forces that hold us back from loving and caring for our neighbors.

During lent, we fast by listening to who God is calling us to be in this particular season of our life so that we can be transformed daily and enter into our communities with the renewal to care for all of creation as God has intended us to do.But we before we get too far in this journey, we take a moment to pause and remember.

Remember that we are created in the image of God, and baptized as God’s beloved. Remember that God has made a promise that God will remember God’s creation. Remember that in our baptism God transforms us to be agents of healing and wholeness.

How do we remember? By enacting rituals, marking ourselves with ashes and remembering that we belong to God and remembering our pain, grief, and failures.  And by marking ourselves with water, remember that God’s goodness and promises are enacted in our very own lives.  

This is what I think Jesus was hinting at as he began his public ministry and proclaimed “repent and believe in the good news”

Daily, we hold both a cross of dirt as we repent and remember God’s mercy and a cross of water as we love and remember God’s good news that comes through God’s steadfast love and peace. Constantly sealed with a cross we bear Gods imagine for the glory of God and we are promised an eternal life, love, and relationship with God.

So on this Lenten journey, I invite you to revisit and remember your baptism daily. After you brush your teeth or wash your hands or before you join for worship, mark a cross on your forehead and proclaim to yourself and/or your family:

Remember you are beloved and you belong to God.

Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We join our songs of praise with all of creation as we praise God active in our world. 

Vicar Andrea Bonneville
Presentation of the Lord, Year B 
Text: Psalm 84 and Luke 2:22-40

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

Everyone has a song to sing.

Mary sings, “my soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior… (NRSV, 1:46).”

Simeon sings, “my eyes have seen your salvation which you have prepared in the presence of all people.”

Anna sings praises to God and praises about the child to all who were looking for redemption.

Our Psalmist sings, “how lovely is your dwelling place, O LORD of hosts! My soul longs, indeed it faints for the courts of the LORD; my heart and my flesh sing for joy to the living God.”

I suspect even the birds were singing as they found their home and built their nests at the altar, a place to lay their young.

When reading the psalm, I wondered why the psalmist would write about birds. I learned that it is likely the psalmist was referring to real birds making nest in the walls of the temple.

During that time, the absence of birds was often seen as a sign of divine absence or disaster. Birds building nests were a sign of assurance of divine presence to the people. Not only do they build their nests, but it is also where they lay their eggs. A sign of hope for the future. 

Birds continue to be a sign of hope for people. We look for birds as a sign that spring is coming. We learn about creation from migration patterns of the birds. Birds build their nests all over the world, a sign that God’s presence is everywhere. 

There is a row of houses near a patch of woods in my neighborhood that has bird feeders at every step. It’s a temple, if you will, for many birds and of course many squirrels. They gather there and sing all day long.

My whole body stands in awe and wonder as I listen to their songs. It takes me back to my childhood when birds were my musicians and teachers. My grandparents taught me how to identify birds by their song. I remember sitting for hours on my grandparents’ deck or running around their yard listening and looking for birds.

The sweet songs of birds warm my heart during these cold winter months. I love listening to their songs.

 Birds sing for a variety of reasons. Some reasons are more practical, like to claim and protect their territory for their young. Some more relational, like to be able to attract a mate or communicate.  Yet some birds sing for joy, simply because they enjoy their song and like to sing along with other birds.

But what I find so interesting about birds is that it takes a lot of courage and energy to sing. It seems like they sing so naturally and freely, but when I bird sings it burns a lot of calories to produce a loud and clear song. Also, when birds sing they make themselves known in the predator/prey world and they make themselves vulnerable.

It takes courage, energy, and vulnerability for us to sing our songs. I imagine it took a lot for Simeon and Anna to sing praises when Jesus was presented in the temple.

Simeon, who was anointed by the Holy Spirit, sings praises as he proclaims Jesus as God incarnate, the one who has come to redeem the nations.

His song confirms what Mary has already sung, that this baby will transform the world. Yet, Simeon sees that the baby’s life is not going to be all songs of praise. He tells of how people will reject Jesus and reject the message of mercy, justice, and steadfast love that he proclaims. Simeon even tells of the terrible pain that Mary will experience.

His song echoes throughout the temple and Anna joins with her song. She had been in the temple every day. I suspect she had built close relationships with people in power, yet she sings about a baby who will challenge all power systems.

 We remember that we to have been anointed by the spirit to sing our songs of praise. It is going to take energy, courage, and vulnerability.  Yet, we still sing knowing there will be days when we have a hard time mustering up the strength. On those days, we look to Mary, Simeon, Anna, and the birds as they take the lead and we hum along.

Because despite trepidation, Simeon sings and praises for he knows the joy of his song. For the joy of the hope to come and redemption of nations rests in his arms as he holds the baby and sings praises.

And despite the risk, birds sing because the joy of the song and to be in community with others outweighs the risk of singing. Besides, when a bird is hatched it only learns its song by listening to its flock.

The songs that we hear today intertwine with songs that have been and continue to be sung, proclamations and praise to the living God. When we hear these songs, we tune in with our voices and praise God who transforms our world. 

Amen.