May 23, 2010
“We Trust in God the Holy Spirit”
Genesis 11:1-9, Acts 2:1-8
Have you ever been a participant at a surprise party? Arriving early to park your car away from the house … waiting for a person or couple to enter the room where you’re hiding … anticipating the moment when they break through and everyone stands up and shouts “surprise.”
The best one I attended lately was a wedding anniversary in which the guests hid in the living room. Well the couple met the assigned hosts at the front door and it was such a surprise that the honored husband said right before he entered the living room, “say I’ve got to use your bathroom” and in he walked – surprise! The hidden guests could barely get out the word we were laughing so hard.
Pentecost finds the honored guests, the disciples, waiting in the upper room … waiting in Jerusalem as Jesus commanded … waiting and praying for something to happen … and what a surprise when it hit. For what they experienced was the very presence of the Risen Christ. Not as a distinctive person that they could touch and feel. But the very presence of the spirit of God within their midst … the same presence they felt when Jesus was in their midst … only even a greater power. For they were gathered together and any time they gathered in his name, the spirit sends its surprise.
It certainly surprised them. They never knew what hit them. They never knew they could have it so good. Even better then when Jesus walked and talked with them in the flesh. For following Jesus’ first sermon in his hometown of Nazareth, they threw him out. They dang near stoned him to death. But after Peter’s first sermon: Peter mind you, the stick your foot in your mouth, impetuous, chop your ear off if you cross me and yet right smack before the crucifixion denied his Lord three times. Peter, the pitiful, preaches and the audience listens and understands each in his own language.
It surprises them to no end. For the good news found those gathered around the upper room primed and ready. They were open to the spirit of this one called the Christ and the message and ministry proclaimed by his disciples. They were open to the healing and excitement that generated out from that small band of followers, which broke down all kinds of barriers and brought such a diverse group together.
Such a surprise when folks gather together … the energy generated … the high feelings … the exchange of emotions. I know our scout leaders have the same feeling when facing a large group of cubs who come gather together all excited to see their friends and they greet each other with a pat on the back or all the body language when acting out a particular story. All that energy, if not directed and channeled can soon get out of hand.
The surprise and energy and good vibrations … kind of like a rushing wind. It’s similar to how we should feel when we gather for worship: to see our friends, the catch up with one another, to learn about what it means to be a community of faith, to serve those in need, to love one another and to love the Lord. It’s not always like that is it? Not always like that when we come together. At times our energy and frustration gets away from us and we end up like a room full of unbridled scouts without direction or leadership. Oh but oh the potential when we discover the surprise of those brief moments when it all comes together, and we act with one accord and we act as one body helping and honoring each others gifts and talents and abilities.
And so I say to us all: scout leaders, church leaders, members, family and friends, hold on to what we are meant to be. Remember what we are about: That we are here to build up that which is good. That our mission is to work with our youth … to protect them from harm the best we can … to pamper and shelter them and keep them safe. So that one day they can grow up as responsible young men and women and grow beyond our influence to embrace a world of their own, just as we grew beyond the protective embrace of our parents, family and friends.
What we do here will have meaning for them. I firmly believe that no matter how far they roam from our teaching or the teachings of the church, they cannot forget who loved them and nurtured them and who prays for them. I can’t tell you how many stories I’ve heard of graduating seniors from high school, which happens this week, who said, “I can’t wait to get out of this dump of a town or away from the preaching of my parents.” After a couple of years exploring their limits they found contentment right back where they started. Returning to the core values that they grew up with and what they tested as worthy to keep around. And yet we all have the prodigal in us that has to get away and test the waters. St. Paul says: “when I was a child I thought like a child, I reasoned as a child, but when I grew up I gave up childish ways.”
I pray you scouts and not only you scouts but all of us will grow in our reasoning and thoughts of what we want from life and what life wants from us. How we will serve our God and our fellow man and woman. I pray that we parents and pastors, families and friends can allow each other to grow with as much grace and truth as we can muster. For we will all go through change: tough on some, exciting for others, and learning experience for us all. I pray we allow for mistakes along the way … to fail if need be … and to pick ourselves up and dust ourselves off and move forward in a positive direction.
And it’s right when we’re sitting around wondering how in the heck we’re going to withstand it all that the surprise comes … the spirit hits and we begin to get excited and understand.
Our lesson affirms that when the spirit comes we experience the fruits of understanding and unity. And I want to put in a plug for spiritual understanding: that you forget not what we teach you here about the love of Jesus … that you support one another and support those in need … that you do what you can do to contribute to the building up of that which unites us together and carefully dismantle that which divides.
I would encourage you to continue to grow spiritually. To not give in to the sheer emotion of it all but to use your God given talents and brains to study and reason and to allow the spirit to lead you into what makes good sense. I talked with a 24 year old girl this week who somewhat grew up in our household and rode horses with my daughter, who did not have a strong spiritual upbringing and was questioning me on all kinds of strange practices and religious understandings. Some of it sounded like a cult and I encouraged her to get into a good Bible study and find out what she believed rather than naively accept all these new ideas that she had never heard of before. Continue to grow spiritually.
The spirit also unites. It brings us together as it does each Sunday as we worship. It eliminates divisions like there were at Pentecost with the different ethnic groups and languages gathered in Jerusalem. It brings together old and young, rich and poor, egg heads and preppies, Jew and Greek, slave and free, male and female. The spirit unites us in Christ so that we find salvation. No, in Christ, salvation finds us and we see the value in each and every living being. We are the children of God.
Let’s celebrate the surprise of the spirit of coming together … the surprise of growing up and growing old. The surprise of the spirit in our midst and we gather on this Lords day. AMEN
Dr. Sheppard Lawrence
Covenant Presbyterian Church
Gainesville, FL
April 25, 2010
“Hearing the Shepherd’s Voice”
John 10:22-30 ~Revelation 7:9-17
In the Gospel of John, the Festival of the Dedication, known as Hanukkah, still celebrated by Jews today, remembered the events of 164 BCE when Judas McCabe defeated the Seleucids not in a face to face battle but in a gorilla type military action. Three years earlier Antiochus Epiphanies IV had overrun and defiled the temple in Jerusalem by sacrificing a pig on the altar and erecting an idol. The people felt violated and terrorized. They had no temple to worship in and so their anger festered and resulted in the Macabbean revolt.
When Jesus enters Jerusalem on this important patriotic day, the Festival of the Dedication, the Jews were expecting the same type of military overthrow against the Roman persecutors that the Maccabbeans had shown 160 years earlier. But Jesus does not oblige. “Please tell us who you are?” they ask, “Do not keep us in suspense.” But they must remain in suspense or make a decision because he will not rule with a sword. “He who lives by the sword will die by the sword.” He says his kingdom is not of this world.
Listen to the word of God …
The second reading focuses on the persecution of the early Christians under the Roman Emperor Dalmatian, who lived from 81 – 96 After the Christian Era. The book of Revelation depicts visions from the writer identified as John the Revelator, that promises hope in the future judgment. The visions reveal the glory that comes to the saints and martyrs when they hold firm to the faith … the heavenly kingdom that awaits the end of the age where Christ, the Lamb, is seated on the thrown and not Caesar.
The images found in the Revelation encourage believers in their suffering to hang in there … to withstand persecution and torture because it is only temporary and the greater reward is yet to come at the end of time.
Listen for the word of God …
Both readings in Revelation and in John, deal with persecution and the oppression of the people: the Jews, in John’s Gospel, who want Jesus to fight back and rule with military and political might and the Revelation which captures believers attention and ushers them out of this world, into a world beyond time and space. You might categorize one as “head on” conflict and the other as escapism.
Both envision God as shepherd … picturing the almighty as calling and the sheep hearing his voice … leading them into safety … pastures green and living waters … a peaceful and secure rest.
How do we find these scenes depicted in our own day and time? For the persecution that we find today has to do with the fear of terrorism and those who choose violence against each other and especially in our country with bomb threats and blowing up of buildings and the killing of innocent people. In the last 10 years we have had to add an entire department of homeland security and have extra precautions when we travel because we live in fear of another 911 or Oklahoma City. Certainly we are feeling the effects of attacks on our own soil which has persisted much longer with our Middle Eastern, African and European brothers and sisters. Somehow when it lands on our soil, it brings it closer to home and so our awareness is heightened to the point where we look for allies to fight with us against the against threat to all people.
How many innocent will have to be killed before it ends? Which voices shall we listen to and trust when it comes to reason and persuasion, passion and peace. Do we find it in the media? Do we find it on our TV screen or in our newspapers? Can we trust what we see on the internet or hear from our favorite commentators? I’m not sure who to believe these days? And there seems to be no sanctuary found in our centers of faith. There is so much shouting and blaming going on. Muslims and Christian, Hindu and Jew, Buddhist and Seik, Terrorist and Military: we are all God’s children and have no right to take the very breath that the spirit infuses into each precious nostril and snuff it out.
Which voice speaks to you today … that rings through your ears and moves you on your way? Which voice do you trust that persuades you to act on your convictions … to move you upward and onward to do the best that you can do in spite of your mistakes and misdeeds? Is it the voice of the parent of your childhood that keeps repeating over and over again, “do your chores, be a good boy or girl, obey what we tell you.” My parents use to tell me that as the oldest of 4 children, when they left the house, I was in charge. So that gave the perfect opportunity for my younger brothers and sister to raise holy terror, commit heinous crimes against each other, and to make my life a living hell. It took years of therapy to get those tapes erased from my memory. And yet those demons continue to keep crawling in from time to time. Is it the voice of a teacher or parent or coach who criticized you or maybe one who inspired you? Or is it your boss or supervisor who said, “you’re fired” or “good job?” In 9 out of 10 cases we will remember the one who was the most critical. Which voice do we as a nation listen to and trust and rely upon? We listen to so many.
I wish I knew the answer … and yet as a minister of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, I am compelled to say there is an answer. It lies in hearing the Shepherd’s voice. But how do I hear it from all the clamoring loud voices that are competing for my attention. John Chrysostom, an early church father, said, “the problem does not fall on the voice speaking … but in following of the voice that is heard … people do not follow, not because Jesus is not a shepherd, but because they are not sheep.”
And we who live in the Western World have a tough time following anyone. We have always been out front ... the leaders and liberators … the makers of our own destiny. Why everyone else should follow us and feel grateful for what we have done for them. We are individuals and follow no one. So the image of a shepherd does not make much sense: an agricultural picture in a highly technological and mechanized world. The shepherd in the field with a flock is a thing of the past.
Yet in the Middle East today, where these scriptures were written, there are still parts of the country where shepherding takes place. It has been observed that on such occasions when the shepherds congregate together in the same place, the flocks form one huge massive herd of confused bleating sheep and goats. Only when the shepherds go their separate ways and raise a shrill in their voice do the log lines of living streams untangle and the mass breaks apart and flows after their leader. All because each one, “hears my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.”
So, in the disarray of our present earthly confusion … let us look to the revelation of the prophet, “to worship the lamb, who sits upon the thrown … for he will be our shepherd … and will wipe away every tear.”
Let us hear the shepherd’s voice. Trust not in the other voices and the many directions that they might have us follow. For neither governments or allies or enemies can bring the ultimate peace and security we so desperately seek in pastures green and living waters. And don’t allow anyone to convince you that God’s ultimate purpose lies within our borders or our allies or our enemies … each one claiming divine blessing. There is no divine blessing when innocent men, women and children are killed … no matter who does the killing.
We all have our persecutions and torments to overcome. Some hit it head on, some go into therapy or rehab or support groups. Others run away into “never-never land” only to be confronted again and again when their feet touch the ground.
As you listen for the shepherd’s voice, open your heart. Certainly your ears will hear, but your heart will take the lead. Your ears will hear but your heart will believe. And you’re liable to hear anything, like: vote for this because it is the Christian position or support this official because he or she believes the right way or such and such a candidate has the proper list of credentials that make them religious. Jesus said, “The works that I do, they bear witness.” They bear witness to my father, to my faith, to who I am. For I and the father are one … and the word was with God and the word was God … and the word became flesh and dwelt among us,
The works that you do bear witness to who or what you follow. Your behavior says more about your faith than the words from your lips. For even the devil says “Lord,” but does not follow the shepherd’s voice.
So when you deplete your energy worrying about the despicable world scene, I pray you concentrate on listening to the shepherd’s voice. Than pray for our leaders, both national and global, that they to listen too the shepherd’s voice and translate that into their actions and deeds. Believe me it is our only salvation. AMEN
Dr. Sheppard Lawrence
Covenant Presbyterian Church
Gainesville, FL
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April 11, 2010
Why Believe?
Scripture Lesson: John 20:19-31
Easter Day has come and gone and what a glorious time it was. I’ve never seen the church so full on a Sunday morning. You don’t know how thrilling it was to look out and see so many looking back. It is a source of inspiration … it stimulates the juices to flow. I think all of us who sit up here and lead worship receive a real boost when we have a full sanctuary.
So you want better worship? Just keep bringing your friends and neighbors. Let’s have more Sunday mornings like last week … even if Easter only comes once a year, it’s worth it to have at least one special day.
I shouldn’t say this but it made me proud to be the pastor here. And I felt good even though I had to leave early in the week to do a funeral and a wedding. I left with a real high … a good, peaceful feeling.
The same feeling the disciples of Jesus must have felt when he appeared in their midst from behind closed doors. The assurance they must have felt that he had not left them or forsaken them. “A peaceful easy feeling,” the Eagles, the rock group sings about … a feeling that, “I won’t let you down.” And he had not, for he stood within their midst proclaiming, “peace and forgiveness.” The same message they’d heard so many times before. So they knew it was the same Lord … the same Christ.
And yet Thomas was not present with them. He could not share this same feeling … this high that the others tried to convince him about. Thomas was still on the other side of the resurrection. He had not the boost in faith to “look up” … he still looked down … was skeptical, doubted, tried to deprogram himself of all this Jesus stuff. He’s gone. It was nice while it lasted but it is no more. So let’s count up our losses and move on. Why believe when there’s nothing to believe in?
This question faced the early church when the Gospel of John was written … when all the eye-witnesses were dying off. Why believe? We have not seen him … touched the wounds in his hands, or felt his side. Why believe when we have nothing concrete to see or feel or moving about? Why believe? A question asked not only by Thomas and the early church, but a question asked of many in our world.
Now I cannot answer for you. I wouldn’t want to answer and say, “Oh that’s not right or properly worded or that’s out and out incorrect.” For we all come to believe through or own journey. And I care not to tear down or so call “correct” your journey of faith. And likewise I care not for you to do the same with mine. We all come to believe through our own experience of the risen Christ. And even though I can share my journey with you, like the disciples shared with Thomas, that does not automatically mean you will believe in the same way I do. And you should neither be forced or made to feel guilty because you do not believe the same way I believe … or the person sitting next to you in the same pew or two pews over. Thomas said, “unless I see and touch for myself, I will not believe.” And there’s something very sacred about coming to Christ in your own way.
The church is here to encourage you in your journey … to nurture you … to teach you about Christ and what it means to call him Lord and Savior. But we force no one or put no one down or negate any ones faith because they do not say the same words that we say, or have the same feelings that we have.
Why believe? Well you might begin by looking at the order of creation. How marvelous this world of ours is put together. How vast the universe and intricately operational all the planets move within our solar system.
I remember on past Easter mornings having to participate in sunrise services and watching the red brilliant ball of burning brightness slowly make its way up the horizon and cast its morning glow over the river or pond or where ever we were located: How beautiful it was … how soothing and inspirational. I shared this with my wife when we were first married … she’s always been an early riser and she empathetically responded, “well, dear, that’s how it always looks in the morning.” Well, how should I know? I don’t get up that early. It was also our tradition on Easter afternoon to travel across the state from East to West. The sun would follow us all the way, until we reached our destination and walk on the beach and see that same burning glow trickle down into the Gulf of Mexico. As it descended into the waiting water, casting the same glow across a different horizon, you could sense a giant sizzle as it took only two and a half minutes for the entire circumference to be swallowed up into a tiny red dot. How glorious to witness the rising and setting sun those Easter days from each side of the coast of Florida. No wonder more primitive cultures see such birth and death and rebirth symbolism in the daily journey of the sun.
Why believe? Because life is all around us in the coming of spring … in the song of the bird … the ferverent nesting that takes place this time of the year. Our bedroom has a sliding glass door and with all the trees and foliage surrounding our house, it is plopped down right in the midst of nature: How pleasing and refreshing it is to the senses.
But we can’t base belief entirely on feelings or our senses or the order of nature. For there are those who will point to disorder and feelings that come and go, and tragedy, like the crazed suicide bomber in a Russian train his past week. And then there’s the natural disasters like earthquakes in Haiti and South America, and Hurricanes or our own human errors such as stadiums that collapse, killing and injuring many.
So why believe in the midst of all this stuff? Because I choose to believe … because I dare not believe that all such happenings are circumstantial, but that they do have a purpose. We may not understand completely why bad things happen. Enlightenment on such tragedies may not come all at once or when we want. There are some designs that still remain a mystery. I cannot explain why. I only know that such circumstances are not beyond our ability to cope … that our God is with us even as the Risen Christ was in the midst of that closed door with the gathered disciples. We might not always feel it. Some might disbelieve. And yet the Holy Presence is there.
William James, the 20th century pragmatist said, “I believe in God because it makes a difference in my life.” I choose to believe because I choose not to despair or see the end of this life or humanity or the world as nothingness. I believe because I find meaning in all of life: both tragedy and pleasure, both success and failure, both good times and bad. For it is though such extremes that we are moved off the fence of complacentsy and into the eternal of chance and risk and new life.
Well that’s your choice to believe. Some don’t. Some see that kind of belief only as a crutch, one in which you choose to lean on out of ignorance or some deep-seated need. And it was within this context that Karl Marx called religion, “the opium of the people.” But religion does not come out of desperation. Even though my father told me as a combat solder in WW II that there were not atheists in foxholes. Religion is not something to keep us in line, controlled by an authoritarian state or church. Yes, religion is a way of life and yet we are free to choose or not to choose … at least in this country.
But there’s something unique about the Christian faith. And that is revelation. Yes, history helps us put stories into context and knowledge of scripture gives us activities about God’s dealing with people and the church’s tradition that has had its plusses and flaws. But it comes to each of us through a divine act of grace that we have no control over. That’s called revelation. The revelation that Jesus is the Christ … that he comes to us from God to be with us, to live and die for us, and to be raise with us. Not only now but at the end of all time.
Why believe? Because God has been revealed to you and me. Even though like Moses I want to say, “I’m a poor spokesman.” It doesn’t depend solely on me. I know that God’s revelation has not been revealed just to you and me, but to the whole world.
Thomas did not believe and yet that very next week within that same gathering of people, most probably within the context of worship like what we’re doing here right now, Jesus appeared. “Hey, Tom! I want to continue my relationship with you, yet on a deeper level than just touch or sight.” And he appears to us as well. He offers us his body as his church. We might not take a snap shot of him home with us, but we are witnesses to the Risen Christ whenever such peace and forgiveness is demonstrated in the body.
So why believe? Not because I’ve seen the Lord, for “blessed are those who have not seen.” Not because I feel it or do not. Not because I always understand. Yes, I choose to believe. For it makes a difference in my life. That God has been revealed to us through the only begotten Son. And I can live with that. Can you? It may even bring us a quality of life beyond all description. AMEN
Dr. Sheppard Lawrence
Covenant Presbyterian Church
Gainesville, FL
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Easter Sunday\April 4th, 2010
“Look Up”
Scripture Reading: John 20: 1-18
Late on Friday he died. And so they hurriedly took his broken, bloody, body down from the twisted tree. They had only moments in which to rush the corpse off to a borrowed tomb, for the sun would soon set and that meant the Sabbath. And there should be no work on the Sabbath, only rest. These were religious folk who honored the Sabbath and kept it holy. But how can you rest or worship or pray when the rug of life has been pulled out from under you. When death occurs there creeps in a certain restlessness that makes you not want to eat … that places your entire body in a dazed, dreamlike state. And you question: what’s happened, what’s been left undone? I do I do next?
And so you sleep, not soundly, but awaken periodically coming to grips with what’s what. Your unconscious slowly accepts what your body has been trying to avoid: Why did he have to die? We loved him so … put our trust and faith and energy into following him.
And so we can understand first thing on the morning of the third day, when the Sabbath ended Mary Magdalene ventured out into the darkness to finish the burial preparation for her Lord. The great love she had for him during his lifetime now carried over into his death. And it was women’s work to bury the dead. It largely remained within the jurisdiction of the family, especially the women, to handle such arrangements at the time of death.
Which draws me to the longtime, heartfelt conclusion, and I’ll deny it if you ever tell anyone that I said it, that in most cases, women are the stronger sex. O yes, generally women go through much more in the way of showing emotions: more tears, more gut-felt assertions, more breaking down. But we males have far more heart attacks, more internalizing of emotions, more hang ups that never find expression.
It’s the women who go through the trauma of bringing new life into the world and from our story this morning, we know that it was Mary who had the responsibility to make sure our Lord was properly buried. It was Mary, Maria, in Latin, who brought him into the world and now another Mary, Maria, who aided in his exit. She was the first one to attend to him following his death. And so she carries out her sacred duty: bringing spices and ointments and oils that the body might be tenderly anointed and freshly wrapped in new linens.
Modern research has shown that those cultures who take more time in the ritualized practice of burying the dead are in the long-run much healthier because they offer more avenues for the grieving process. And we Americans are among the worse to quickly remove the body, have little or no time for grieving and in our culture, which is becoming less and less spiritual, doing away with any kind of religious service. The more time you allow for that important kind of grieving … good grief you might call it, the better off family and friends and folks who didn’t have a chance to say their goodbyes or offer their condolences, will be.
The late Dr. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, the famous author and psychiatrist described a young couple in their 30s who went through the worst kind of death – the death of their two year old daughter. How they both were responsible parents and desired help in acting out the fullness of their grief. How that after the child died, they dressed her for the last time … how they put on her P.J.’s together, how they tenderly laid her in bed and fluffed up her pillow and covered her with her favorite quilt. They kissed her for the last time and said their goodbyes so they could move beyond such a tragedy and recover some assemblence of normalcy.
I know that when my mother died, my sister, who is a hair dresser and had coffered my mother’s hair for years, mustered up the courage to do her hair one final time. It was the most touching and therapeutic act that could have happened. Believe me there’s nothing morbid or dreary when it comes to caring for and saying our goodbyes to those we love.
So it was through tear-filled eyes that Mary made her way to Jesus for this final act of devotion. But much to her surprise she found through the dark haze that the stone had been rolled away. We’re not sure if Mary immediately went into the tomb. W know that our gospel account tells us that she ran and told Simon Peter and probably John and the two disciples took off lickity split to see what had happened. Well they saw the linens lying there and took off for home. But Mary couldn’t stay away. She could not shake the distress she felt that something had happened … that her job had been left undone … that she still had more to do.
The empty tomb does not affect her, the two angels standing all in white at the feet and head of the empty grave doesn’t cause her to flinch, not even the gardener, who is Jesus himself, catches her attention. She only knows that she cannot find her Lord … that she desires the place where they have laid him that she might bring him back to where it will be safe … to finish her tireless work that she has set out to do.
But in each one of these instances Mary keeps looking down: At the tomb, at the grave clothes, missing the heavenly radiance of the angels, she even overlooks Jesus himself. I don’t about you but if two angels appeared to me, I’d take notice. Even the shepherds in the field, keeping watch over their flocks by night during the holy birth, were “filled with fear” when the angels appeared. But not so with Mary, for she couldn’t see beyond the nose on her face and yet she pleaded, “Tell me what they have done with my Lord … for I know not where they’ve taken him.
And you want to say “look up” Mary. See what’s happening around you. Don’t get so bogged down in all your ritual and sadness that you miss the brightness of the moment. That we not find ourselves so swallowed up with grief and guilt and despair that we not look up and see the beauty and freshness of the glorious new day. Let us not become so tied up in the material and earthly bound jobs that we have to do, or lack of jobs in with our economic crises, that we neglect the importance of the spiritual: like family, our church, helping one another, praying and meditatively walking and soaking in all that’s going on around us. Let us not create such a dependency on keep the status quo, not allowing change to occur, that when God breaks in our midst, we miss it because we are too busy or worrying about other things. Let us not miss the moment when we are in the presence of angels and not marvel in their glory.
Mary talks with Jesus, whom she supposes is the gardener and still does not recognize him. That is until he speaks her name, “Mary, Mary, why do you weep? Why do you seek the living among the dead?” She knows she’s heard that voice before … that particular tone and texture … the gentle softness and she responds, “Rabboni” which means, “My teacher.”
Even in her distress … no let me rephrase that, most especially in her distress the risen Jesus breaks through and calls her by name, “Mary.”
And he calls you by name. No matter how preoccupied or depressed or how far you’ve strayed … no matter if you’re looking down at the gloom and doom of what life dishes out. The Easter message calls us to look up … so that God’s brightness can break through and we can hear his voice and walk and talk and fellowship with what is important.
Mary came to faith by a word … a word that prompted memory … a relationship she once knew. No matter how much she looked down, the surprise and marvel of that first Easter morn has again and again broken into listless and busy lives. And for those who followed him all the way, even to Golgotha, Easter is a confirmation of trust and a promise kept: I will never leave you or forsake you … no matter how bleak it gets … I’m there in your midst.
This Easter, we are called by name, to a new way of life. Let us hear the call … let us see … let us understand and bath in the mysterious presence of a living hope. That we may move out into the future with confidence … into the brightness of this blessed Easter day and say with Mary, “I have looked up and what have I see … I have seen the Lord.” AMEN
Dr. Sheppard Lawrence
Covenant Presbyterian Church
Gainesville,
FL
Palm Sunday Sermon March 28, 2010
“Crying Stones”
Scriptures: Isaiah 50: 4 – 9; Luke 19:28-40
And Jesus told the Pharisees after they rebuked him to calm down his disciples during the exhilarating entry into Jerusalem: “I tell you if these were silent, the very stones would cry out.”
What kind of story do you think a stone like this would tell? Heaven knows it has been around a long time … been through all kinds of extremes: the cool rains, the hot sun, the blistering wind, had sand thrown in its face, been stepped on.
I know one story it would tell … about the time as a young teenager in the eighth grade when our English teacher, Mr. Lewis, calmly instructed my friend, Richard Rowling, to meet him in his classroom to receive three whacks for some inappropriate behavior. Mr. Lewis was especially famous for his huge paddle. I remember having to put my face on your cousin, Mr. Gravel, in order to see under the lockers through the floor level windows to witness the punishment. The only thing I could see was two set of feet and my imagination. There were a dozen others face down on your hard cold surface with me and did we ever jump when we heard the first whack and the two following. My heart leaped to my throat as we ran away. But the stones cried out as we recounted the feelings of that day. Come to think of it no one went back to see how Richard felt after the execution … we were all too scared … imagined we would be next in line for having watched.
It’s like the stones that cry out when any news, good or bad, finds no expression or release. Like the resistance movement in France and Poland during WW II or the atrocities committed in the concentrations camps. In both cases each were repressed but the very stones cried out on their behalf.
So this little friend has a long story to tell. Like the time Jesus rode into Jerusalem. Not the first time anyone had been greeted with a blanket or garments, or the words: “Blessed is he who comes.” The priest use to say this to pilgrims who made their way into the royal city, the temple city, the city of destiny during the Passover festival. But to this one they called the Christ, the disciples greeted, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” And yet it was against the law to shout such a cry. Because Caesar was king and lord over all. And Herod was king over the district. Who or what was this Jesus king over?
The stones could not remain silent. They cried out over all the other prophets who entered this great city … the city of God’s choosing … prophets who preached against sin, called the people away from warfare and greed, inviting them to covenant anew with the God of Moses, who led them out of slavery into freedom. And you know how these prophets were received? Why angry men picked me up, neatly placed me in the palm and fingers and threw me against the face and body until the blood trickled down around me and soaked into my pours. Why even the prophet Jesus cried, “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, killing the prophets ad stoning those who are sent to you. How often would have I gathered you with big loving arms as a hen would gather her brood, but you would not have me.”
So Jesus knew what awaited him in Jerusalem. He might have anticipated hatred and warfare. Why should anything change with his coming? Except that he rode in on a colt, a vehicle of peace. And the same ones who yelled, “peace in heaven and glory in the highest,” were the same ones who abandoned him and denied knowing him a few days later.
For as this prophet from Nazareth taught and healed and ministered, there came much success and rejoicing. And now entering the city, the time ripened for Israel’s deliverance. But visions blurred and darkness fell behind prison bars and a gloomy cross.
And so O faithful friend, the ones who followed him through thick and thin, left him, betrayed him, wanted nothing to do with his kingdom. Things just did not turn out the way his disciples anticipated and you know how people act when they do not get what they want … when their dreams are shattered … they hurt and ache and pain too much … they get depressed and disengage.
I can’t help visiting the hospital following the birth of a new born and talking with a mother who can no longer hold back the tears and hear her say, “I’ve been so blessed, everything has turned out perfect: A healthy baby, little or not complications, the culmination of months or years of planning and nine months gestation … and to watch the beginning of close intimate contact for such new life? It is a bit overwhelming and undeserved.” And I want to say to such mothers, “yes, receive the fullness of joy from this day, and remember it when the tough times come as well.”
The stones beneath us receive it all. They cry out the story for us. The joyful tears fall on them as freely as the sad ones … the sweat of hard work and play, the spit from anger as well s sickness … the blood that spills down from the hurting and despised and distraught and lonely.
What would this stone say about us? What words would it cry? Are we the ones who have walked on it … used it to build inroads where one can safely travel and communicate one with another? Or maybe we have used this stone for more destructive purposes: for throwing, for killing prophets with our tongues, for driving nails into hands and feet, for propping up the Holy One on a bent tree, to suffer their for you and me.
The story is told of a holy man from the East, who when he spoke in this country talked about the highest form of religious practice. He said that helping one another was the greatest service we could offer. And he continued, “but if you can’t help one another, please try not to hurt one another.”
There’s much too much hurting going on in our world. Certainly our duty as followers of Christ means that we seek to avoid following the ways of the world. And yet we are guilty of falling off the path he has set for us … for helping and not hurting.
Dr. Sheppard Lawrence
Covenant Presbyterian Church
Gainesville,
FL
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