Sunday 30 April 2017

As A Baptized People - April 30, 2017 sermon

... Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them, “Men of Judea and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say. ... let the entire house of Israel know with certainty that God has made him both Lord and Messiah, this Jesus whom you crucified.” Now when they heard this, they were cut to the heart and said to Peter and to the other apostles, “Brothers, what should we do?” Peter said to them, “Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ so that your sins may be forgiven; and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. For the promise is for you, for your children, and for all who are far away, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to him.” And he testified with many other arguments and exhorted them, saying, “Save yourselves from this corrupt generation.” So those who welcomed his message were baptized, and that day about three thousand persons were added. 
(Acts 2:14a & 36-41)

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     I struggled with this reading from the Book of Acts. In fact, I struggle with a lot of Peter's sermon. It's a significant passage, if only because - at least as far as is recorded in the Bible - Peter's sermon is the first Christian sermon ever preached. To ignore it seems wrong somehow; to try to explain it away seems disrespectful. But I can't help having the feeling that I'm just a bit uncomfortable with the way Peter puts things. As a matter of fact, it makes me so uncomfortable that I wondered whether using it as a preaching text was appropriate for a visiting preacher. But I decided to plow ahead with it anyway. Sometimes it's safer to talk about controversial texts with people who don't know you than it is with the people who do! If you read the whole sermon - and it's not that long (it's actually much shorter than what you're going to listen to this morning!) - you discover that Peter is addressing his words to his "fellow Israelites." That kind of leaves me with the same bit of queasiness as reading the Passion story in John's Gospel and hearing all of John's references to "the Jews." Peter's exhortation to his hearers to "repent and be baptized" sounds vaguely like a slam at Judaism - especially when we read the sermon (as we inevitably do) through our own lens, with two thousand years of often unfortunate (and sometimes tragic) relations between Christianity and Judaism behind us.

     But just maybe that's the key to really understanding what Peter meant with these words; what the author of Acts is trying to get across - maybe what any Scripture is really trying to tell us. Perhaps we have to fight the temptation to interpret this passage by looking backward through our own history and try instead to interpret it by looking forward through the eyes and experience of Peter. What was going through Peter's mind as he offered these words? Peter knew nothing of a "history" between Judaism and Christianity; neither was he thinking in terms of slamming Judaism or condemning the Jewish people. I think it's more likely that as Peter looked at the crowd to which he was preaching, more than anything - he was baffled. As a Jew himself, Peter had become convinced that Jesus was the Messiah. He didn't have two thousand years of theological language and jargon and doctrine to unpack. He was simply convinced that Jesus was the Messiah. And he was baffled. Why his "fellow Israelites" couldn't see that was a mystery to him. And let's be honest - there's a bit of Peter in all of us. Don't we always find it a mystery when others don't see things as clearly as we see them? Doesn't it baffle us when we know we're right and those around us fail to grasp the wisdom of our position? Peter found himself befuddled by the strange turn of events that had taken him (by now) from the triumphal entry into Jerusalem, to the crucifixion, to the resurrection and now - in this passage - to the amazing events of Pentecost. In spite of the way we might interpret this passage by looking backward into the past, for Peter - looking forward into the future - there was no desire or intention to guilt anyone or to condemn anyone. All he wanted to do was to explain what it was that was so clear to him. And he did it by using two lenses - repentance and baptism. “Repent, and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ so that your sins may be forgiven" he said. Repentance and baptism.

     Peter also mentioned forgiveness, of course - but, really, forgiveness is easy. Repentance is hard work, but asking for forgiveness is easy. Acknowledging that we've done wrong is is pretty easy. But repentance? Repentance is a very different story, and Peter was in trouble from the moment he used that word! Repentance is more than asking for forgiveness. Repentance is more than simply acknowledging that we've done something wrong. Repentance is more than just being sorry or filled with regret. Repentance is actually turning away from the thing that makes us sorry or that makes us acknoweldge that we've done something wrong or that makes us ask for forgiveness. Repentance is a call to turn away, to turn over a new leaf - to change our perspectives and our priorities. This is hard. But this is what Peter is asking for. He's not attacking anyone or criticizing anyone - he's simply saying that in order to truly serve God one has to have a mind that's set on God and that filters out the things of the world that prevent us from setting our minds on God. And that's where the story connects with us. It's not a negative story intended to convince people that they're wrong - it's a positive story intended to convince people to look more carefully; more deeply. And he links it to baptism. "Repent and be baptized ..." Turn away - and start a new life with a fresh way of seeing the world.

     That is what we need. A new way of seeing the world. A turning away from that which oppresses people or marginalizes people or casts people aside, and a turning toward the way of God - in which all are honoured and all are upheld and all are welcomed. That's what we as a baptized people are about. When I speak of a baptized people, I'm not talking about water baptism - I'm talking about the baptism that immerses us in God's Spirit and that fills us with Jesus' life and that points us always forward, and that makes us and how we live a sign of the presence of God around us.

     I think of the story of those two unnamed disciples on the Road to Emmaus. They were walking, soon after the events of the crucifixion and resurrection. They were dazed, confused, baffled and bewildered - just as Peter was. They didn't understand what had happened. All they knew was that the women had found an empty tomb where there should have been a body laid. And they were lost - not in the sense that they didn't know where they were, but because they didn't really know where they were going or what lay in store for them. As disciples of Jesus they had focussed their lives on Jesus. They had followed him, listened to him, worked with him and learned from him. And now he was gone and they wondered what the purpose of it all had been - or even, had there been a purpose? Or was this time that they had followed Jesus - however long it had been - just a waste; a mistake? It seemed that way on the surface. Looking at it with worldly eyes, Jesus had seemed beaten and the story of the empty tomb just a mystery at best; a figment of someone's imagination at worst. And so they walked, without aim or purpose. And then - suddenly - an encounter. A stranger comes beside them, and slowly they realize - this is Jesus! And everything changes. I tend to think of this as their baptism - not with water, but as their moment of enlightenment. Suddenly, they understood. All of a sudden, they got it! Jesus wasn't dead - Jesus was alive, and Jesus was still guiding them in the way of God. Their only response was to follow. That's all they could do. To bake bread with this stranger (whom they knew was Jesus) and to start this new life he had called them to.

     Sometimes our own lives of faith can seem that way. Sometimes we drift, we're not sure where God is taking us, we're not sure what we're being called to. But then - well - when does this stranger appear at your side? When does this stranger point you forward? When does this stranger lift the veil from your eyes and let you see that - in some way and in some form that we can't fully understand - this stranger who walks alongside us and leads us is none other than Jesus? Whatever your baptismal certificate (if you have one) might say - this is your real baptism: the moment Jesus appears and says "follow me, and do my work; follow me, and love my people; follow me, and serve my God - and your God." As a baptized people - that's what we do!
   

Thursday 27 April 2017

A Thought For The Week Of April 24, 2017

"Now Sarah said, 'God has brought laughter for me; everyone who hears will laugh with me.'" (Genesis 21:6) Laughter. It's a great thing. The best medicine, as one paraphrase of a biblical Proverb puts it. To me, laughter represents joy - and one of the greatest joys that can happen is when unexpected blessings appear in our lives that take us by surprise. We laugh. We feel joy. That's what happened to Sarah. She was too old to have a child; to have a child was simply impossible for her. For her to have expected to have a child would have been ridiculous. But - it happened! And Sarah laughed - and all those around her laughed. Not having a child had been a source of great despair for Sarah. But, once she had given up hope, it happened. God works in ways that are mysterious and unexpected and even baffling to us. But once we discern God's presence in what's happening around us and to us it fills us with joy. Obviously, it doesn't have to be the birth of a child, or in anything we would necessarily consider a miracle. Seeing God's presence anywhere and in any way should fill us with joy. Joy can come from the every day things in life. Why not laugh as the sun shines, or as the grass turns green, or as the trees bud and leaves appear, or as snow falls? Why not laugh at the countless stars in the sky? Why not laugh as waves crash into shore? Maybe more simply put - why not just laugh? When we discern God's presence in any one of countless ways our response doesn't have to be pious devotion - sometimes it can just be joyous laughter. Sometimes that's the most honest way to respond to God's mysterious work in our lives.

Sunday 23 April 2017

The Best Is Yet To Come - April 23, 2017 sermon

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! By his great mercy he has given us a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who are being protected by the power of God through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you rejoice, even if now for a little while you have had to suffer various trials, so that the genuineness of your faith—being more precious than gold that, though perishable, is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Although you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy, for you are receiving the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.
(1 Peter 1:3-9)

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“Christ is arisen,
     Joy to thee, mortal!
Empty his prison,
     Broken its portal.
Rising, he giveth
      His shroud to the sod;
Risen, he liveth,
     And liveth to God.” 

     Those words were written in 1808. They come from the Easter Chorus in the play Faust, written by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. Goethe was many things. He was a writer, a poet, a scientist, a diplomat and a civil servant. Faust was a play that in many ways depicted Goethe’s own personal struggles with Christian faith. Goethe was born a Lutheran and for a time was a very devoted member of the Lutheran Church. As sometimes happens, though, events over the course of time caused him to begin to question faith and he became an early example of what we call today an SBNR – a person who’s “spiritual, but not religious;” someone who believes in God – and maybe even in Jesus – but who rejects the church and any other form of so-called “organized religion.” Goethe was one who continued to believe throughout his life that being a Christian and being a part of the church were two different things. He rejected much of the church’s teaching; he rejected much traditional Christian doctrine. Friedrich Nietzsche – a German philosopher who lived several decades after Goethe died – was heavily influenced by Goethe, and wrote of him that he had “a kind of almost joyous and trusting fatalism” that, in Nietzsche’s words, had “faith that only in the totality everything redeems itself and appears good and justified.” In other words, Goethe had faith that whatever happened in the world - good or bad - was somehow being worked out to be something positive and productive.” But Goethe had more than just a belief in a sort of positive fatalism. Among other things, Goethe was a passionate believer in the resurrection of Jesus. The Easter Chorus from Faust actually did represent Goethe’s sincere beliefs about the issue. I want you to hear a couple of these lines again:

“Christ is arisen,
     Joy to thee, mortal!
...
Risen, he liveth,
     And liveth to God.” 

     That was faith. It may have been lived without church or Scripture or deliberate Christian fellowship – but it was faith. Goethe may have rejected every other aspect of Christian belief – but here was a passionate conviction about one thing: Christ had risen! Christ was alive! That was faith. We can learn something about faith from Goethe.

     Faith is a living and growing thing. It’s not something that we can allow to become stagnant; hemmed in by traditions or by culture or even by doctrine. Faith goes beyond those things. Faith in Christ demands that we go beyond those things. Faith is not an end in itself, but is rather a beginning. Faith spurs us on to something better; faith motivates us to look for something greater. Faith becomes stagnant if it takes possession of us and we simply rest satisfied, letting it sit. If that happens, then eventually faith rots away and becomes worthless. Real faith – faith in something meaningful and important - has to be a living faith – constantly growing, constantly expanding, constantly pushing us to new heights, constantly challenging us to explore in greater depth. That’s a living faith that has an impact on our lives. And what do we have faith in? What is this meaningful and important thing that changes our lives? When all else is stripped away and if we’re left with just one leg to stand on – what is it? “Christ is arisen. Joy to thee, mortal! … Risen, he liveth, and liveth to God.” We are a people of the resurrection. And living as a people of the resurrection will inevitably lead us to joy. As Peter wrote, “Although you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy ...” This is faith. We love one whom we cannot see; we believe in him whom we cannot see – and in spite of the fact that we cannot see him, the joy he brings us (that “joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart”) changes our lives and pushes us forward and makes it possible for us to change lives and to change the world.

     The resurrection – faith in the risen Christ - leads us inevitably to joy, for as Peter says, we “are receiving the outcome of [our] faith, the salvation of [our] souls.” It’s important that Peter wrote that this is what we are receiving – not that we have received it. This is similar to Paul saying in Philippians that we are to work out our salvation with fear and trembling – not because we gain our own salvation (it’s a gift from God) and not because we are afraid of what will happen if we don’t, but because we are awestruck not only by the work of God that has already been accomplished within us, but by what God’s work will continue to accomplish within us. In this letter that we read from today, Peter I believe is trying to push us forward; to prevent his readers from becoming stagnant in their faith, satisfied with themselves and simply content with what they already have. He also knows that they are facing great hardships because of their faith and that they are taking great risks because of their faith and he doesn’t want them to abandon faith for an easier and safer journey. He knows that there’s so much more to be discovered; so much more to be experienced, so much more joy to be found. I find it interesting to reflect on this passage from 1 Peter today, the Sunday after Easter.

     Today is actually more than just the Sunday after Easter. As the Sunday after Easter, this day came to be known as “Low Sunday.” No one actually knows why. One theory is that Easter is the greatest feast day of the Christian calendar, so whatever came after it inevitably paled in comparison. More practically, some suggest it’s because church attendance today is – well – generally just a little bit lower than it was the Sunday before. But today is more than the Sunday after Easter and today is more than Low Sunday. Today is actually the Second Sunday OF Easter. Easter goes on. Christ did not rise from the dead and immediately return to his Father. Christ rose and stayed with his disciples for a time – walking with them, talking with them, eating with them, helping them forward. And Easter didn’t just end with a benediction last Sunday and an invitation for us to go about our daily business as if nothing much happened. The Season of Easter challenges us to continue to walk as a people of the resurrection – with our focus being not on ourselves and not on the church and not on our doctrine and not on our traditions but with our focus being on the risen Christ – and on the risen Christ alone. Everything else flows from that, and whatever doesn’t flow from that is meaningless.

     With our focus on the risen Christ, we “are receiving the outcome of [our] faith, the salvation of [our] souls.” We are receiving them. The process is ongoing; the journey continues; the joy is deep in our hearts. We gather together today and whenever we gather only because by the great mercy of God we have been “given ... a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.” As a people of the resurrection, we offer this joy, this journey and this faith to others, inviting them into this “living hope,” inviting them to plumb the depths that we have plumbed and to discover what Paul described as the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ. Because it’s the risen Christ who matters. Goethe rejected almost everything that the Christian faith and the Christian church stood for – but he held on to the risen Christ. He could not let the risen Christ go – or, perhaps more accurately, the risen Christ would not let him go.

“Christ is arisen,
     Joy to thee, mortal!
Empty his prison,
     Broken its portal.
Rising, he giveth
      His shroud to the sod;
Risen, he liveth,
     And liveth to God.”

     And with Christ arisen, and with Christ leading us, we move forward – always forward, because we know that with Christ, no matter what struggles we might experience and what obstacles we might encounter along the way, the best is yet to come.

Wednesday 19 April 2017

A Thought For The Week Of April 17, 2017

Meanwhile Jesus stood before the governor, and the governor asked him, “Are you the king of the Jews?” “You have said so,” Jesus replied. When he was accused by the chief priests and the elders, he gave no answer. (Matthew 27:11-12) Now that we've gone a few days beyond Easter Sunday I've had a chance to really think about the events we marked this past weekend. One part of the story that has always stood out for me was that of Jesus being brought before Pilate. In one sense, it's a pretty routine bit of the story, I suppose. There doesn't seem to be a lot that's noteworthy about it. It gets lost in the surrounding drama. But this year I noticed something, and it made me wonder if these two little verses might actually be the sign that the focus of Jesus' ministry had begun to shift. In the course of his life Jesus had been quite clear that he had come for Israel. We also know that, not very long after his death and resurrection, that focus would change, and the church would become a largely Gentile institution. I don't doubt that both Jesus' own identification of his primary mission and the later development of the church's mission were the will of God; a part of God's plan. So, somewhere, something changed; there was a transition. And now I wonder: was this it? All of a sudden - here - Jesus focus was on the Gentile authority. Jesus responds to Pilate's question - albeit in a somewhat cryptic way - but to the chief priests and elders "he gave no answer." Suddenly, Jesus' audience is different. Usually we identify the beginning of the church's mission to the Gentile world either with Paul's experience on the Road to Damascus or with the story of Pentecost. But I wonder - did it actually start here, in Jerusalem, before Pilate? Is Jesus' sudden acknowledgement of the Roman authorities over the Jewish authorities the sign that what is about to happen is happening for the entire world, and not just for Israel?

Sunday 16 April 2017

Practical Resurrection - April 16 2017 sermon

So if you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth, for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory. Put to death, therefore, whatever in you is earthly: fornication, impurity, passion, evil desire, and greed (which is idolatry). On account of these the wrath of God is coming on those who are disobedient. These are the ways you also once followed, when you were living that life. But now you must get rid of all such things—anger, wrath, malice, slander, and abusive language from your mouth. Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have stripped off the old self with its practices and have clothed yourselves with the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge according to the image of its creator. In that renewal there is no longer Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave and free; but Christ is all and in all!
(Colossians 3:1-11)

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     After the darkness of Good Friday, it is wonderful to be welcomed by the light of Easter morning! After the sombreness of Good Friday it is wonderful to be greeted by the joy of Easter morning! After the death we commemorated on Good Friday, it is wonderful to celebrate the new life of Easter morning! The Easter story is one we know. It's the centrepiece of our faith as Christians. Lots of people believe that Jesus was born and died; only Christians believe he was resurrected. The events we celebrate today are what make us Christians. And the story that Pam shared with us earlier is really an account of the beginning of the Christian story. That passage is entitled "The Resurrection of Jesus" in the most common contemporary English translations of the Bible. But, even having noted how important - how central - the resurrection of Jesus is to the Christian faith, it's actually a misnomer to call this story (and any of the stories in the other Gospels) "The Resurrection of Jesus." When you read these stories you find that none of Matthew, Mark, Luke or John actually wrote anything about the resurrection of Jesus. Neither did Paul or Peter or James. What we read are accounts of what happened after the resurrection - of what Jesus did and of how his disciples responded and of how his opponents reacted. We read about the impact of the resurrection, but there's really nothing about the actual resurrection of Jesus. What's described in the Gospels is not the resurrection but rather the mysterious discovery of an empty tomb that should have had a body in it. That leaves a lot of open questions. We don't know exactly how Jesus was resurrected; we don't know what Jesus' first reaction was to being resurrected; we don't know how Jesus got out of the sealed tomb; we don't know exactly what Jesus did or where he went once he did. All open questions. The writers of the Gospels simply take for granted that Jesus was resurrected and somehow left the tomb. It's just presented as a given. That, to me, gives the story of the resurrection much more credibility - because if this had just been a made up story then surely more of the story would have been made up to fill in those gaps. But the Gospel writers simply knew that there were gaps; mysteries that they didn't have the answers to. And that didn't bother them. Jesus had been resurrected. That was all they cared about. But today there's all sorts of speculation about the resurrection - usually trying to deny it; to explain the resurrection away. There's all sorts of doubt about it. It's impossible. It couldn't have happened. It makes no sense. Dead people don't come back to life. Let me sketch for you briefly the four options that seem to be most widely accepted to explain the empty tomb without the resurrection.

     First, there's the argument that Jesus didn't really die on the cross; that he either wasn't crucified at all or that he was just unconscious and that he simply revived inside the tomb. I dismiss that one immediately - for one very simple reason: the Romans were experts at crucifixion, and the point of crucifixion was to kill. To those who would say that the crucifixion didn't happen at all because there's no Roman record of it I would say that ignores an important point - the crucifixion of Jesus was just one of among probably tens of thousands of crucifixions (and probably more than that) carried out by the Romans in all the far flung corners of the Empire. We have very few if any specific official records of who was crucified. And the crucifixion of a single man in a dusty backwater of the mighty Roman Empire certainly wouldn't have been seen as important enough to archive a record of it. It's only with the benefit of hindsight that we today might wonder why there was no record of Jesus being crucified. At the time, the Romans had far more important things to think about than an unknown itinerant preacher who was being executed in far off Jerusalem. It was one among many thousands - and the victims of crucifixion died, because the Romans knew what they were doing. A person did not survive crucifixion. So I set aside immediately the theory that Jesus wasn't crucified at all or that he simply revived from unconsciousness after being crucified.

     Then there's the argument that Jesus' body was stolen - either by the disciples so that they could make up this really exciting story of a dead man coming back to life, or by the authorities who could use it to prove that he hadn't come back to life. But neither option makes sense to me. Most of those original disciples were persecuted and died for believing in Jesus and for proclaiming that he had been raised from the dead. They would not back down in that assertion. I'll grant that some people might be willing to die in order to perpetuate a lie. But I find it unbelievable that in the face of the pressure and persecution that these people would eventually face for spreading this story not a single one of them would have cracked. But none did. If any of them had, you can be sure (given the way things evolved) that someone would have recorded somewhere that Peter or John or Andrew or Batholomew or Andrew or Thomas (one of them) had finally given in and confessed that it was all a lie or a hoax. But none of them ever did. They died - some gruesomely (Peter himself was crucified) - proclaiming Jesus - crucified AND RISEN. And the authorities? It's even more unbelievable that the authorities stole the body. If they had then surely, as this story of a dead man coming back to life spread they would have produced the remains and said "See - here he is - and he's dead. Don't believe this foolishness." But they didn't - simply because they had no body to produce.

     Some try to make the argument that Jesus' resurrection was simply a spiritual event and not a physical resurrection. By this way of looking at things, Jesus lived on as a spirit or a ghost (or possibly even just in the memories of his disciples) and so the experiences of those disciples were inner spiritual experiences rather than a physical reality. Except - well, there's the problem of that missing body. A disembodied spirit leaves its body behind - which is why it's called disembodied. And so does a memory of a dead man leave a body behind. But the empty tomb was a reality. It isn't challenged in any writing of the day. Josephus - the famous Jewish historian of the first century, who watched with great interest the rise of the Christian faith but who was not himself a Christian - never challenged the story of the empty tomb in his writings. None of the Roman historians of the period ever did either, even as the Christian faith became more and more of a nuisance and even a threat to the Empire. The point seems clear: the tomb really was empty; the body really was gone. The Gospel writers themselves went to great pains to make sure that their readers got the point that Jesus had really been physically raised. Thomas was invited to touch his wounds, the risen Jesus ate and drank with his disciples. Disembodied spirits and memories don't do those things. Jesus wasn't a ghost or a spirit or a memory. He was a real person, with a real body, raised from the dead.

     And that leaves the fourth possibility. The maxim of the fictional detective Sherlock Holmes fits well here: "once you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains - however improbable - must be true." We've eliminated the impossible: Jesus was crucified, he did not survive the crucifixion, his body was not stolen, he did not become a ghost and he wasn't a mere memory. So what then is that improbably truth that Sherlock Holmes would have been immediately led to? Simple: Jesus had been resurrected, body and all. There's no other explanation that fits.

     So it happened. Those who believe know that it happened, and those who don't aren't likely to be convinced even by Holmesian reasoning. Maybe the question this leads us to is a simple one: so what? If that sounds a bit disrespectful on Easter Sunday, well, I still have to ask it: so what? I ask it and I repeat it because it's an important question. It happened a long time ago and for many people it's nothing more than a story written a long time ago; words on a page. "Christ is risen!" the church cries out on Easter Sunday. "What's in it for me?" is the response of a largely disineterested world, which sees Easter Sunday as little more than a chance to bow down to the great god known as "Chocolate." Well, the resurrection is not just a story from the past that brings hope for the future to those who believe it. The resurrection makes a difference today. The resurrection tells us that our old lives (lived according to worldly values) have been crucified and that (even now) we have already been resurrected in a sense into a new life. We are not perfect. Our "resurrection" if you will is not complete. We will stumble and fall, we will do things we shouldn't do, we will say things we shouldn't say, we will think things we shouldn't think - and the world will see that and sneer at us and dismiss Christianity and Christians, because the world doesn't understand. We are not promised a perfect life in this world; we are promised a new life in this world, in which the power of the resurrected Jesus takes more and more control of our daily lives. We will be changed by the resurrection; if only by the knowledge that we must believe in this God who has wrought such a wonder by defeating death itself. Before faith in the risen Christ we lived in a world of selfishness, greed and materialism, consumed by the lust for money, power and position. No more. Christ is risen! He is now our priority! We are free to live for God and not the world; we are free to make a commitment to a new and transformed life: a practical resurrection in the here and now, in which we make a practical difference to the world around us!

Thursday 13 April 2017

The Privilege Of Service - April 13 2017 Maundy Thursday sermon

The devil had already put it into the heart of Judas son of Simon Iscariot to betray him. And during supper Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?” Jesus answered, “You do not know now what I am doing, but later you will understand.” Peter said to him, “You will never wash my feet.” Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.” Simon Peter said to him, “Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!” Jesus said to him, “One who has bathed does not need to wash, except for the feet, but is entirely clean. And you are clean, though not all of you.” For he knew who was to betray him; for this reason he said, “Not all of you are clean.” After he had washed their feet, had put on his robe, and had returned to the table, he said to them, “Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord—and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you. Very truly, I tell you, servants are not greater than their master, nor are messengers greater than the one who sent them. If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them.
(John 13:2-17)

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     I doubt that there's a parent anywhere who dreams about their child growing up to be a servant. That's no one's dream. I don't wake up in the morning and look at Hannah and think, "Wow. I sure hope she spends her life waiting on tables." There's nothing wrong with waiting on tables, of course. We have a nephew who does that. But nobody dreams about being a waiter or a servant. It's no one's life goal. Let's face it - if you watch Batman then sure, Alfred the butler is a nice guy but it's Bruce Wayne you're interested in. He's the man! You'd rather be the millionaire than the butler. Or, as Satan says in John Milton's Paradise Lost, "Better to reign in hell than to serve in heaven." And to be honest that's probably not far off how most people think. No one dreams of being a servant. No one wants their children to grow up to be servants. I don't want Hannah to be a servant. Truth be told -  on that night in Bethlehem, Mary didn't dream of Jesus growing up to be a servant. That's one of the reasons that the Gospel Jesus preached can be a tough sell - because it calls us to service. And not just to any service - it calls us to the lowliest service, and to the service of the lowliest of the low. It's the nature of the Gospel.

     In some ways, that seems to be a contradiction. The scene we read from John 13 happens right after Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem that we reflected on at our Palm Sunday service. It's not the night that Mary dreamed dreams about her baby boy; it's now the night that will quickly become a nightmare for all concerned. This is one of the traditional passages read on Maundy Thursday. Some people miss the point of it. Those who focus on it tend to get fixated on the foot-washing, so that foot-washing becomes the point of the story and foot-washing starts to get ritualistically re-created as if it's a sacrament of some sort that Jesus commanded of his disciples. It is true that Jesus said "... if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you." But what this really is is a call to lowly service, and lowly service is contextual. In Jesus' day, foot-washing was a very lowly form of service. All you have to remember is that people wore sandals if they had the money and went barefoot if they didn't, and the streets were full of animals, and the animals did what animals do. In other words, foot washing was a dirty, smelly and unpleasant job in Jesus' day. Jesus isn't really calling on his disciples of all generations for the rest of human history to wash each other's feet. He's calling them to perform lowly acts of service for each other; acts of service that some disciples of Jesus might even feel are beneath their dignity - and Jesus sets the example for them. Jesus is calling on his disciples not to worry about whether they think the service they're performing is beneath them or undignified. Jesus instead is calling on them to simply be a community of self sacrificing love who surrender even their own dignity for the sake of serving those who need to be served.

     As I said on Palm Sunday, one of the challenges of Holy Week is the abrupt emotional movements from the ecstatic welcome of Jesus as a king to Jerusalem, to the humble service of a lowly figure, to the gruesome death of a rejected figure. In each case, Jesus is "Lord" - as we regularly proclaim in church. But what does that mean? Centuries ago, when the Bible first started to be translated into English, they had to make a choice between two words to refer to Jesus. One was the Latin word "dominus." "Dominus" means to dominate, to control or to subjugate. It implies a forceful authority who gets his way. But interestingly enough the Celtic monks who first evangelized Britain chose not to refer to Jesus as "Dominus." Instead, they chose an Old English word - "lhoaverd" - which, of course, eventually evolved into "Lord." And what does "lhoaverd" mean? Its a combination of the Old English words for "loaf" and "warden." It refers to the person who makes sure that everyone in the household receives their daily bread. It refers not to the one who dominates, but to the one who serves. That's Jesus. That's what we mean when we say that "Jesus is Lord." It's referring to Jesus as the servant who takes care of the household.

     "You also should do as I have done to you." Those were Jesus' words. That's how we should treat everyone. If you read on in John 13, you find that as he washed the feet of his disciples he would have washed the feet of Judas, who he knew would betray him, and of Peter, who he knew would deny him. But he still washed their feet. He still served them. As disciples of Jesus, we can't decide or make judgements about who we will or will not be willing to serve. We simply serve, because Jesus served. We serve the person in the pew beisde us, our spouses, our children, our next door neighbours, the shop clerks and bank tellers and waiters we deal with, the telemarketers who irritate us at dinner time, and the lowliest and dirtiest homeless person we'll ever meet. We are called to serve them all, because that was Jesus' example, and that's what Jesus calls us to. Later, Peter who would deny him and Judas who would betray him were welcome at the table with him. The table of the Lord is a special place. In the early church, it was a real meal, in which people set aside their social differences and simply sat and broke bread together. And they served one another. They weren't poor or rich, they were fellow disciples. They weren't masters and servants, they were all children of God - reflecting the new reality that Jesus called into being. As we approach the table tonight, may we remember that Jesus is our Lord and that Jesus is our host - but that Jesus is also our servant. May we also be servants of one another.

Wednesday 12 April 2017

A Thought For The Week Of April 10, 2017

"In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord, high and exalted, seated on a throne; and the train of his robe filled the temple." (Isaiah 6:1) This verse is, of course, the beginning of a vision that the prophet Isaiah had of God and heaven. It got me thinking about visions and how we can use or often misuse them. The Bible is full of visions - in both the Old and New Testaments. They have much to reveal to us about ourselves, about God and about eternity - but we have to know how to make use of them and how to interpret them. It's with biblical visions perhaps more than anything else that a hard and fast biblical literalism becomes a problem. You simply can't take a vision and interpret it literally. A vision is a portrayal of spiritual realities in understandable images. But spiritual realities really go beyond our ability to fully understand - so we can't take a vision and make a literal picture of it. This passage, for example (which extends to verse 10) isn't a photograph of heaven. It's more like a piece of abstract art. If we study it carefully we can glean what it's trying to say, but the image isn't an exact representation of what's being revealed. What we get from this vision is an image of a powerful and holy God who exists in a spiritual world beyond our own, who sees our lives and forgives our sins, and who sends us into the world to bear witness - even though many people to whom we bear witness can't understand. That about sums it up. The vision is grand and glorious, because it points us to a spiritual reality we can't fully comprehend. That's why we can't just take it literally. To do that is to pretend that we get it - fully and completely and totally. To do that is arrogant. But if we don't take it literally, we do take it seriously, because it has a message for us. That's the way of dealing with all biblical visions - even, for example, Revelation, which so many people get so hung up on. Like this vision, Revelation is a vision and not a literal reality. But all biblical visions have a message; a truth to reveal to us - if we have the courage and the humility to go beyond the literal and to embrace the symbolism we find.

Sunday 9 April 2017

From Coronation To Crucifixion - April 9 2017 sermon

When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, ‘The Lord needs them.’ And he will send them immediately.” This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet, saying, “Tell the daughter of Zion, Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!” When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, “Who is this?” The crowds were saying, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.”
(Matthew 21:1-11)

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     Jesus always made Jerusalem nervous. I want to invite you to return with me to the Christmas story for a moment. In the 2nd Chapter of Matthew, we discover that travellers from a distant land have appeared in the city and gone to the court of King Herod, asking where they might find the child who had been born "King of the Jews." As soon as they asked the question, Matthew 2:3 tells us that "when King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him." Now fast forward about thirty years or so and we come to the 21st Chapter of Matthew. Now, the "King of the Jews" has come back to Jerusalem, and what is the city's response?  Matthew 21:10 tells us that "when he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil ..." The word actually means "shaken." Once again, Jerusalem - confronted by Jesus - is reduced to turmoil by his appearance. Jesus made Jerusalem nervous. People just weren't sure what to make of him. Some were excited; some were afraid; some were angered by him - surely some even tried to ignore him. Excitement and fear and anger and indifference. "Who is this?" "Why is he here?" "Who really cares?" There was no agreement.

     I wonder if that isn't why Jesus troubled Jerusalem so much. Once he arrived in their midst, the people divided. They had to choose sides. And I wonder - truth be told - if Jesus doesn't make most of us at least a little bit nervous, too - because once we encounter Jesus, we have to choose sides. Do we believe or not? And what is it that we believe or don't believe? Will we follow him or not? And how far will we go with him? It's like being backed into a corner with no way to escape. We have to make a choice. And, really, most of us probably like to live nice, quiet, peaceful lives. But Jesus causes turmoil - not only in Jerusalem, but sometimes in our own lives as well. He makes us choose. He turns the world upside down. Whatever we learn from the world, Jesus tells us to forget it and to live for God instead. And we have to choose - will we believe in him? Will we follow him? Once we encounter him, sitting on the fence isn't an option. A decision has to be made. It's like that blind man who challenged the Pharisees in the story we read a couple of weeks ago: "Do you want to become his disciples too?" And that's a question that calls for an answer. The Pharisees had to answer it, Herod had to answer it, Jerusalem had to answer it, Peter and James and John and the rest of the twelve had to answer it, Mary Magdalene and even Mary - Jesus' mother - had to answer it. And we have to answer it. "Do you want to become his disciples, too?" And many people would rather not answer. They want to keep quiet and stay out of the way and not be noticed and avoid all trouble. But that doesn't work when Jesus arrives on the scene. He causes turmoil and fear and excitement and anger (and some people try to ignore him) - all because he forces us to choose.

     In Jerusalem about 2000 years ago (give or take a decade or two) things fell apart pretty quickly for Jesus. As joyfully and excitedly as the crowd that lined the streets welcomed him, Jesus turned out to be a disappointment; not quite what people were hoping for. Jesus was humble - and the people didn't want a humble king. The people wanted a king who was powerful and magnetic and charismatic and who could rally the people around him by the force of his personality and not by words about love and peace. The people wanted a king who would appear on a warhorse, ready for battle with the hated Romans, but Jesus came riding a donkey - about as far from a beast of war as you could get. The people wanted someone who could start and lead a rebellion against the mighty empire they were oppressed by, but Jesus preached tolerance and patience and even co-operation with the forces of the occupation. Think about France under German occupation in World War II. History celebrates the resistors and condemns the collaborators - but is it entirely clear which group Jesus would have ended up being identified with? In Jerusalem, Jesus didn't encourage rebellion or resistance to the empire - Jesus didn't meet the expectations of the people at all. And so the people turned on him suddenly and mercilessly. Sometimes Jesus doesn't meet our expectations either. We want someone who's going to deal with all the bad people and their evil acts in the world - but instead we get someone who tells us to forgive and forgive and then to forgive again, over and over and over. Whether 2000 years ago or today, we'd really rather have a Messiah who would come in power and make everything right; a Son of God who can't be stopped. Instead, we get the Son of Man who humbled himself and died on a cross.

     Yes. Less than a week after arriving in Jerusalem and being hailed by the crowds with shouts of "Hosanna!" Jesus would be dead. Many of the same people who welcomed him so passionately and with such excitement turned against him and became an almost out of control mob demanding his blood. He hadn't given them what they wanted, and they didn't want what he offered them. How much has the world changed over the last 2000 years? Maybe not as much as we think, because all too often it's still the same way.  People want God - but they only want God on their own terms. They don't want a God who's going to ask anything of them, they only want a God who going to do things for them. The words get spoken all the time - "I need to be fed." "I don't get anything out of church." "I need to experience the Holy Spirit." "I don't like the music." "I don't like the preacher." There are so many different ways we can use the word "I" in church  and most of them are wrong, because the key word in the Christian faith isn't "I" - it's "Him." And it's not about "me." It's about "you." And it's not about those of us who are here today - it's about those who aren't here today. But if we start to think too much about "I" or "me" or "us" - well, we just might find ourselves confronted by Jesus, demanding that we do things in a new and radically different way. Through the prophet Hosea, God said to the people, "I desire mercy, not sacrifice, and acknowledgement of God rather than burnt offerings." I wonder if Jesus doesn't say to his church - "I want you to live your faith every day and not just practice it on Sunday." I wonder if Jesus doesn't say to his church "sacraments and sermons and hymns are fine, but what are you doing the rest of the week?" I wonder if Jesus doesn't say to his church - "Putting an envelope in the plate is great, now find a poor person and invite them to dinner." I wonder if Jesus doesn't say to his church - "Live the way God wants you to live and don't just practice a religion."

     Today is Palm Sunday. Today we celebrate the recognition of Jesus as a King - "the Son of David ... the one who comes in the name of the Lord!" But as happy a day as Palm Sunday is, there's a tinge of sadness about it as well. When Jesus entered Jerusalem he knew what was ultimately going to happen. He had already told his disciples that he was going to be killed. He knew that this would be the end - or at least it would seem that way. Today, we celebrate Palm Sunday, but the ugly shadow of Good Friday is already on the horizon, hanging over us just a few days away. We aren't really unlike the people of Jerusalem centuries ago. We're about to face a whirlwind of a week that will take from from great joy to utter despair to sheer ecstasy. And like the people of Jerusalem we need to ask ourselves what our expectations of Jesus are. Where would we have stood had we been in Jerusalem on that day? I doubt we'd be much different than they were. We'd have welcomed Jesus and been excited by his arrival, but as the tide turned there's a pretty good chance that we'd have been with the mob demanding his death. After all, as Peter Wood wrote, "Be they political supporters, pop idol followers, or sports fans; crowds are at their best when they are cheering on a winner." If Jesus stops looking like a winner - from a human perspective at least - then the cheering stops, and the jeering starts. It's human nature, I suppose. The good news is that Jesus understands that - and he forgives us for it. From his coronation as a King to his crucifixion as a criminal, Jesus never wavered in his love for those around him. After accepting his welcome to the city on the back of a donkey, he offered forgiveness to those who mocked him as he hung on a cross. In that act, we see that Jesus stands with us - always ready to forgive, always ready to accept us.

     Praise be to God! Hosanna to the Son of David! May Jesus reign - forever and ever! Amen!

Thursday 6 April 2017

A Thought For The Week Of April 3, 2017

"... we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." (2 Corinthians 4:18) These words put me in mind of a journey through a harsh environment. Perhaps we're running out of food and water and the chances of survival are looking slim. So what do we do - we focus our eyes on the distant horizon. We believe. We hope. Something must lie beyond that distant horizon. Some source of life. We have to believe. Otherwise we might as well give up. Laying down and getting it over with is probably our most reasonable choice. But there must be something beyond that horizon. Basically these words from 2 Corinthians are that image spiritualized. Everything we see around us will disappear one day. Even the stars in the sky have a lifespan. Everything comes to an end. Even us, as we're perfectly aware. We have an expiry date. So how do we keep going? Why not just give up? Why bother struggling for existence, when the end of our existence is the only possible outcome? Because we believe that there's something beyond the horizon of this life. Because we have hope in something more. So we go on. We try to make this world and this life better - for ourselves and for our descendants - but we believe that there's more to existence than just what we see around us. There's an eternity, and we believe that somehow and in some way that eternity awaits us. So we watch that horizon, knowing that there's something beyond it that's there. We just can't see it. As we approach Holy Week, we have the same reaction - Lent can be a long, hard journey - but there's something waiting for us - just beyond the horizon. We wait. We watch. We believe. Something's coming.

Sunday 2 April 2017

Finding Life In The Midst Of Lent - April 2 2017 sermon

To set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. For this reason the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God; it does not submit to God’s law - indeed it cannot, and those who are in the flesh cannot please God. But you are not in the flesh; you are in the Spirit, since the Spirit of God dwells in you. Anyone who does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him. But if Christ is in you, though the body is dead because of sin, the Spirit is life because of righteousness. If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit that dwells in you.
(Romans 8:6-11)

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     The story of Narcissus has always fascinated me. It comes from ancient Greek mythology. Narcissus was a handsome man - the most handsome man in the world, according to the myth. People fawned over him. Men wanted to be seen with him; women - well - women just wanted him. He was so handsome that the world was at his doorstep, so to speak. Whatever he wanted he could have had. His life could have been full of everything that anyone had ever dreamed of. But Narcissus had one fatal flaw. He knew how handsome he was, and because he was so handsome he started to look down his nose at everyone else. No one was good enough for him. He spurned human companionship; he cared nothing for those around him. One day, he looked into a pool of water and he saw his own reflection for the first time. He had never seen such a beautiful creature. It must have been the only creature in the world that he could possibly consider worthy of him. Narcissus was smitten with his image. He fell in love with the reflection he saw in the pool of water. He looked and looked and looked. He couldn't drag himself away from the beautiful creature staring back at him. He stared and stared and stared. And eventually he died, having lived his life alone, with only his own image for companionship, having rebuffed every effort that anyone had made to befriend him. The myth has given birth to a recognized psychological condition called "narcissism" - which refers to people who are fixated on themselves and their own appearance and with how people perceive them.

     I don't propose to get into the psychological issues around narcissism - basically because I'm not qualified to do that. But the story and the idea interests me. How many people shut themselves off from  people, from the world and from life in any meaningful way because they become obsessed with themselves in one way or another? Obviously we all have needs that have to be met, but it becomes a problem when we simply become fixated on ourselves - because when that happens our focus tends to be less on our needs and more on our wants. We want to satisfy our desires. We expect others to satisfy our desires for us. Everything revolves around us. And when that happens, we stop enjoying life, because the enjoyment and the richness of life come from our interactions and relationships with others; from engaging the world around us rather than withdrawing from that world; from being challenged and changed by new experiences rather than by being set in our ways and unable to make room for anything new or different. Narcissus withdrew and Narcissus died alone. Narcissists risk the same fate.

     “It takes a leap of faith to open ourselves to life ...,” is what Alan Brehm wrote. I think he's right. It may sound strange, but the reason it takes a leap of faith to open ourselves to life is because opening ourselves to life is actually quite risky. To truly live you have to take chances; you can't keep everything neat and tidy; you can't hide yourself away. You also can't become obsessed with yourself and your own life - because that's not real life. Jesus said that “Whoever seeks to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” Those twenty words contain a huge amount of wisdom. If you spend your whole life being consumed with the thought of saving your life, you're never really going to be able to live your life. Jesus was talking about living with a willingness to give yourself away, but many people are too consumed with saving themselves to do that. So are many churches. How many churches do I know who seem to survive for the sake of surviving; whose idea of mission is to keep the doors open for another month, but for very little reason other than keeping the doors open. They struggle to live, cutting budgets and cutting programs and doing less and less ministry, thinking that will somehow help them survive - but all is really does is stop them from living. For the church to be the church the church has to be willing to take chances. A church that follows Jesus - who willingly set his sights on Jerusalem, knowing that his chosen route would lead him to the cross - needs to be willing to risk itself sometimes rather than simply play it safe. The same can be said for individual Christians. If we don't take a few chances, we're not really following Jesus, and if we're not following Jesus, then - well - what are we doing, and what's the purpose?

     Paul understood that. That's why, in today's reading, he wrote that "to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. To set your mind on your flesh means to be consumed with yourself - your own needs, your own wants and your own desires. Setting everything else aside, that's a hard way to live, because while you might satisfy all your needs, and you might get most of what you want, there are always going to be things that you desire that don't come your way. If all you're focussed on is yourself you can never truly live, because simply put life will then always be consumed either by frustration over the things we can't get or by the fear of what happens if we don't get them. That's a hard way to live. In fact, it's not really life. But it's hard to live any other way. We want to set our mind on the flesh because the flesh is what we're familiar with - it's what we see and know. When he speaks of "the flesh" Paul doesn't just mean the body we live in. That's part of it, but Paul is also referring to the whole material world around us. The flesh is everything we can see and touch and smell; it's everything our senses respond to. We think of that as life. We fight for that life. We want to hold on to it. But Paul says something different. Paul says that life is found by letting go of the flesh and by focussing on the Spirit, and what he means here is God's Spirit; not our spirits or souls. Paul isn't telling us to focus on the next life, or heaven or eternity - because if we do that we're thinking again of ourselves and our own well being. He's specifically saying that we have to set our mind on the Spirit of God, and on how the Spirit of God directs us in the here and now, because the Spirit of God directs us to real life. And the Spirit of God, revealed to us by the prophets, revealed to us by Jesus, revealed to us by the Scriptures and even revealed to us by our own consciences tells us not to live for ourselves but for others. We have to let go of ourselves in other words, and embrace what the Spirit of God is doing in our lives and through our lives to offer this life that we've discovered to others.

     This Spirit of God - this Spirit of God that Alan Brehm referred to as "the wonderful and unpredictable Spirit that is flowing so freely and so full of life all around us” is the source of our life, and this Spirit of God we must embrace if we are to live as God wants us to live.

     It's risky business, being led by the Spirit. Jesus was led by the Spirit. He was led by the Spirit into the wilderness - a story we read about when we began the Season of Lent. And, ultimately, the Spirit led Jesus to Jerusalem, to Pilate, to Golgotha and to the cross. We haven't arrived at Good Friday yet, but today we do find life in the strangest place - in the midst of Lent, at the table of the Lord, where we commemorate the Lord's death. It's odd - but this is where we find life. In the willingness of Jesus to sacrifice, and in the ultimate hope we encounter here - because we know that his death wasn't the end. As we say during the Communion litany, "Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again." But even more - he's here now. Offering us new life. As Paul wrote, "if Christ is in you, though the body is dead because of sin, the Spirit is life because of righteousness. If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also through his Spirit that dwells in you." May we claim that life for ourselves. May we truly learn to live for others. Only then can we be sure that Christ is in us.