Easter Sermon

Sermon

Easter 1997

Valerie Ann Hart

Alleluia, Christ is Risen!

       What a glorious morning, a glorious time to celebrate resurrection, a glorious time to acknowledge that through Christ’s resurrection each and every one of us has been resurrected, made new, lifted up, healed.

Alleluia, Christ is risen

       One time I was at the grocery store about to buy some corn chips. Next to me was a woman who lifted up a bag and replaced it and said, “no one will buy this bag, it’s full of broken chips.” And indeed it was. I too passed it over in favor or one with nice big whole unbroken chips. But since then I have been thinking about what kind of chips Jesus would choose. What do you think?

       The Christian church is often described as a resurrection community. What does it mean to be a resurrection community? What do we mean by resurrection? To resurrect means to bring to life again that which has been dead, to lift up again that which has fallen, it means the transformation of that which is broken into that which is truly whole. It is taking something that is broken, dead, destroyed and lifting it up to a state that is even better than what it was before it was broken.

       In order for there to be resurrection, there must be a death of some kind. In order for Christ to be resurrected he had to be broken. There is no Easter without Good Friday. Before he could be resurrected Jesus had to be broken. We are reminded of this each time we celebrate the Eucharist, the Lord’s Supper. The bread does not become for us Christ’s body until it has been broken. Through the breaking of the bread it is transformed. In the same way Jesus had to be broken in body, mind, and spirit - he had to die to who he was - he had to lose his identity as the Galilean Rabbi named Jesus - he had to disappoint his followers who each had some idea to who he ought to be - he had to resist all the demands, inner and outer, for him to be anything other than who he truly was - he had to die to it all in order for him to be resurrected as the Christ.

       We are a resurrection community, because we are a community of people who have been broken. We come to Christ, we look to the resurrection, not because we are already perfect, not because our lives are always wonderful, not because we feel full and complete, but because we are broken, each in our own way. We know that we are not perfect, that we are often in physical, emotional, or spiritual pain. That sometimes we feel lost, abandoned, empty, and afraid. We come because somehow we know, as Peter said, “I truly understand that God shows no partiality.”

       We are like the community that surrounded Jesus - a group of men and women who each had their own stories of brokenness. There were prostitutes, and tax collectors, passionate fishermen whose uncontrolled anger had won them the nickname “sons of thunder” and an insecure teacher who came to see Jesus at night. There were those who were greedy, and those who were afraid. There were slaves and army generals. There were those who had been diagnosed as crazy, possessed by demons, and those who had been blind beggars. There were menopausal women and epileptics. Each one had a story of brokenness. It is for this reason that I am convinced that Jesus would have chosen the bag with the broken chips. He always seemed less interested in those who were whole and sure of themselves and more interested in those who knew themselves as broken.

       And with Jesus’ death this motley group became even more broken. They dispersed, they denied their relationship with him and they hid in an upper room. Their expectations about Jesus and his movement had been broken - shattered - by the cross. Even the women who came to the grave responded not initially with joy, but with fear to the knowledge of the resurrection. What was to become of this community of broken people? The most amazing thing about the resurrection stories is not that some of his followers claim to have seen him alive, but the dramatic transformation that took place in these broken followers. Those who were hiding and afraid became fearless speakers, telling the good news of Christ. Peter who once denied he knew him found the courage and the voice to speak eloquently of his love. The women who were afraid to tell anyone eventually did and went on to share the gospel as far as Rome. This band of broken people became a force that changed the world. These frightened people risked their lives, and often lost them, in speaking out for what they believed. This community of broken people was resurrected into a powerful force. Who says you can’t use the broken chips?

       Like Jesus’ followers we are a community of people who have been broken, but we are not just a broken community, we are a resurrection community. That means that our brokenness leads to resurrection. Our brokenness leads to rising again to something that is even better than before we were broken. Just as a doctor will tell you that if you break a bone, after the bone has healed that point is stronger than the rest of the bone. Through the healing it becomes stronger than it was before the break.

       Through the healing of our brokenness we become more than we were before we were broken. Through the healing of our wounds, we become resurrection people. We have died to who we thought we were, died to our self-identity as victims, or abusers, users or sinner, haters or lovers, insecure or self-absorbed. As resurrection people we live into our wholeness. We are ready to die to that which is broken in us, to let ourselves be healed, to let ourselves know ourselves as resurrected people.

       We come to Christ as broken people, asking to be resurrected into something more, something greater. Yet, you wouldn’t know that looking around. For some reason, especially on Easter, we feel a need to present ourselves in the best possible light when we come to church. We put on our best clothes, fix our hair, shave or put on makeup. We want to look our best. And we bring our families and tell our children to behave and our spouses to make a good impression. We hide our brokenness from each other as if we believed that we are the only ones with a story of pain and suffering, of doubt and fear, of abandonment and loneliness. We forget, that this resurrection community is not about proving we are already well, but seeking out healing, it is not about already being perfect, but about being forgiven, it is not about being fearless, but learning to transform the fear, the doubt, the pain. It is about the process of resurrection. And we come together as a community to remember and celebrate Christ’s resurrection - through which we are assured that there is more, much more, unimaginably more, to life and death than we had ever dreamed. We celebrate that through his resurrection we have the potential to be resurrected, to be lifted up, and to become more. We are reassured that who we really are is so much more than the broken, struggling human being we think we are. That who we really are is a loved, resurrected, child of God, who is full of grace and joy and peace. And all we have to do to know that is to die - to die to who we think we are, to die to our pretensions of wholeness and admit our brokenness, to die to our fears and doubts, to die to the illusion that we can do it on our own, to die into the loving arms of Christ who will resurrect us from out current state into a superior state - who will lift us up - who will show us what it means to truly live.

Good Friday Sermon

Good Friday

April 14, 2017

Faith Episcopal Church

The Rev. Valerie Ann Hart

I don’t know for sure what makes it so hard to hear the Passion read out loud.  Is it the suffering of Jesus? Or is it seeing the incredible cruelty of which humanity is capable?  When we read the Passion, like we did tonight, we can’t help but realize that very few people in this story demonstrate anything positive about themselves. Instead, what we hear is betrayal, cowardice, self-centeredness, fear, power, and manipulation - all the things that make us human. At least all the negative things that make us human.

Everything that’s cruel about humanity is part of this story, even the word crucify.  When the Romans conquered a people they didn’t worry about making them friends. They just wanted to control them. They decided the best way of doing it was fear. So over time they developed different ways to punish people that would elicit fear.  

Crucifixion was the most elegant of them all because crucifixion was designed to maximize the humiliation. Maximize the pain. Maximize the time it would take to die. They were always done in public places so when people were walking down the street, going to work or to go get their groceries, they might see a person or five or a hundred hanging on a wall or tied to a tree up on a hill.  They might be dying, they might be dead, they might have the birds eating their flesh. It was unbelievably cruel. 

It’s hard to imagine how a culture could be that cruel.  Yet, when we read this story we hear echoes of ourselves. We have all had times in our lives when we have been afraid and acted out of that fear.  We have all had times when we have denied somebody else, kept quiet when we could have spoken up.  

I sometimes try to imagine who I would have been in the story.  I think I might have been one of the ones who were cheering and waving palms as Jesus entered the city. But once He got arrested, I wouldn’t have had anything to do with it. I would have stayed home, stayed away, not wanted to get involved.

I doubt I would have been there yelling “Crucify Him.”  That’s not my style.  But I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have been there protesting.  I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have been speaking up and saying, “Not him” because I know how many times I see injustice in the world and I stay quiet.  

Each one of you here tonight, where would you be in this story?  I would like to think I’d be standing at the cross. Jesus’ friend who stood by his mother. I doubt it.  I doubt it.  I know myself too well.  Nobody comes out very good in this story except his mother and John.  Even Joseph of Arimathea, who offers his grave, had been silent because he was afraid.  He was a secret follower of Jesus.  

I once heard of an ancient tradition of theological reflection where people wondered what it was Jesus did in that part of the Apostles Creed where it says, “He descended into hell.”  What was he doing during that time in hell?  One of the theories is that he was looking for Judas.  He was looking for the one who betrayed him to get an opportunity to forgive him.  

In the Matthew version of the Passion, Judas, when he saw that Jesus was going to be killed, realized what he had done.  He repented of it, but he was so disturbed, he went and killed himself. It also says that Jesus didn’t lose any one of them. I can imagine Jesus looking for his friend Judas to tell him he was forgiven.  Just like Jesus comes looking for us who have all let him down in one way or another in our lives.  He comes looking for each one of us, each one of his friends, so he can tell us that we’re forgiven, that we’re loved, that it’s all going to be okay.  

In fact, it’s going to be more than okay.  Out of the sadness of our lives, out of the tragedy of our lives, out of the things we do wrong in our lives, Jesus can bring hope. He can take each part of us that is dead and he can transform it, forgive it, love it, and resurrect it.  

This was a very bad Friday in many ways for the people in this story we read today, but we know that this is not the end. It is not the final chapter.  

And that’s why we call it Good Friday.

Maundy Thursday sermon

Maundy Thursday 

March 29, 2018

St. Joseph’s Episcopal Church

The Rev. Valerie Ann Hart

Do any of you remember the last conversation that you had with someone before they died? Do you remember where you were, what you did, what that person said? Thirty-five years later I still remember my father’s last words to me. It doesn’t matter whether at the time we know the person is going to die, we still remember the interaction. And if the person knows that they are about to die it gives even more power to those last words. A dying parent will want to share some last bits of guidance for the children, spouses share a last loving good-bye and a teacher longs to impart one more bit of knowledge.

All four Gospels contain a description of the meal Jesus had with his disciples before his death. There are differences between the Gospels, but they all make it clear that it was an extremely important event. Jesus knew that it was going to be his last time to eat with his disciples. As a teacher, he also realized that this was going to be his last opportunity to teach. The last class. The last chance to get through the thick skulls of those disciples exactly what it was he had been trying to teach them

At this last meal he could have talked intellectually. He could have sat with his disciples and said, “Okay, I want you to get the theology right. Here is the exact nature of God, and my relationship with God, and it is important that you believe this correctly.” But he didn’t do that. 

And he could have talked about spiritual things. He could have talked about the things that are kind of hard to understand, like heaven and eternity. But he didn’t. 

Instead that last supper was very incarnational. It was about action. It was about the world, being here, being now. It was about bread and wine and water and a basin and a towel. Concrete things. Simple things. Nothing expensive. Nothing fancy. Things that were in every Jewish household. Bread and wine, water, a basin and a towel. 

Jesus came from the prophetic tradition. If you read the prophets in the Old Testament, you’ll find they often illustrated their teachings by doing outrageous things. Jeremiah at one point took a brand new pair of pants, wore them once and them folded them up and stuck them in a crevice in a rock. Six months later he took them out and they are full of holes. Then he explained that God said this is the Judean people, full of holes in their relationship with God. Another prophet had the king fire an arrow through a window and then said this is how you are going to conquer Syria. Another one went up to the future king and took his cloak and ripped it into twelve pieces and threw the pieces in all different directions to show that the tribes of Abraham were going to be scattered. The prophets did this because they knew that people remembered those kind of dramatic actions. Jesus wanted people to remember his last meal and what he was teaching. So he took some dramatic action.

First he took the bread. Now the bread that he picked up had great meaning, if it was indeed a Passover feast. The unleavened bread represented the flight from Egypt, the hurry to get out of slavery into freedom. The bread represented that freedom. It also represented the manna that God gave people when they were in the wilderness. Bread represents survival, sustenance, the basic foundation of living. It nurtures and feeds. It has a very rich meaning. 

Jesus picked up the bread, and he blessed it. Then he broke it and said, “This is my body, broken for you.” He gave bread a whole new meaning. 

Then he picked up the chalice of wine. The one cup that would be passed around and they all would drink from. The disciples were used to blessing the Passover cup. 

Now wine also is rich in meaning. We call alcohol spirits for a reason. Wine was considered to have spirit in it. And at the time of Jesus there were worshipers of the God Dionysus or as the romans called him Bacchus - the God of wine. Wine was one of the things that was offered at the temple in Jerusalem and poured onto the altar. Wine was rich in significance and meaning. 

Jesus picked up the wine and he blessed it. Then he said, “This is my blood which is shed for you.” This is my blood? This is my blood! Imagine, imagine the reactions of the disciples who were all good Jews. Jews never, ever, ever drink blood. When an animal is killed for Kosher food all the blood is drained out of it. Blood was considered to carry the life force of the animal. That blood, that life force, was only to be offered to God. The idea that the disciples would drink blood? That got their attention! 

Then he said “Do this to remember me.” Well you can be pretty sure that the disciples weren’t going to forget that. 

And if that wasn’t enough, the next thing he did was he took off his outer cloak and got down to his basic underwear, a simple garment much like the albs the clergy and acolytes wear. He was now dressed like a servant might be dressed. Then he took a towel and a basin and a pitcher of water and he began to wash the disciples’ feet. 

It was not like today. How many of you took a shower before coming to the service tonight? We don’t want our feet to be dirty when we come up to have our feet washed. Back then they were wearing sandals, and they were walking on the dirt streets that the chariots and donkeys and camels all walked down. There was the mud, and grim and all the stuff that you would not want to have between your toes. That’s what they were walking through on the way to dinner. So, when you came to a person’s house, if you had been traveling, to have your feet cleaned was a great gift. But it was never done by the host. If the host was rich, one of the slaves would do it, but it had to be one of the slaves that wasn’t Jewish because according to the Torah, you couldn’t make a Jewish slave wash someone’s feet. It was beneath them. So it would have to be a non-Jewish slave that would wash your feet. The bottom of the bottom. If you didn’t have slaves, then if you were a good host you provided a pitcher of water and a nice clean towel and a basin where a person could wash their own feet. But never, ever would the host wash someone’s feet. 

Yet here was Jesus, their Lord and their teacher, down on his knees washing their feet. No wonder Peter said, “don’t do this.” 

After Jesus was finished and had done all these dramatic actions, much like in the prophetic tradition, he began to teach. Now came the teaching that all of those actions were leading up to. 

He said, “Love one another as I have loved you.” Love one another as I have loved you.  

How did Jesus love them? Jesus loved them? Incarnationally, in the material world. Jesus fed them. He offered his body and his blood for them. Jesus got down on his knees and washed their feet - like a servant. That is how Jesus’ followers are to love one another. 

When Jesus said, “Love one another as I have loved you,” he was not saying have a nice warm feeling about everybody, because that is not how Jesus loved people. And he wasn’t saying love in a sort of abstract sense of “well I love everybody in the world”, because that was not the way Jesus loved. The way Jesus loved was material, and real, and right here and in depth. It involved bread and wine, water, a basin and a towel. It meant being the servant. It meant touching with love. It meant offering his life. It meant dying for them.

That was his final teaching. That is what he wanted the disciples to remember. That was the summation of all his teaching and all his ministry. ‘Love one another as I have loved you.’

Now we will participate in the ceremony of the foot washing where we have an opportunity to wash one another’s feet, where we have a chance to physically represent Jesus’ command to love one another. There are two parts here, two opportunities to practice love. 

The first is the humble act of washing another’s feet. To be the care giver. To serve.

The second, and for some, more difficult opportunity, is to let someone else wash your feet. We, like Peter, are confronted with the question of whether we can be humble enough to let someone care for us in such an intimate way? Can we permit ourselves to be vulnerable to this loving action of another?

To love one another means to both lovingly give and lovingly receive. To love is to be willing to be vulnerable.

To love is to live in the knowledge that each and every person here tonight is a beloved child of God in need of comfort and in need of the opportunity to offer comfort.