SERMON:

JOHN 10:22-30

4 25 10

REV ANTHONY E ACHESON

I recently came across two comments from Youth Group age young people who were active in local congregations it their communities. One of them made the statement; “You know what you grown-ups can do for kids? You can help us make good choices, and that’s it. That’s all.” And then there was a second kid who offered something a little different. This second young person said, ‘We hear a lot of preaching at church about what the Bible says we should and shouldn’t do, but no one tells us what that actually looks like living in our world. How do you actually do what the Bible says?’ He wondered if his church family was going to do for him what the second young man took to be our only proper assignment.

Today I’d like to offer some reflections on this question of how we do make good choices, and hopefully in the process provide good models and patterns for younger people who are coming behind us. When I read these words from John chapter 10 that we heard a few moments ago, it brings similar questions to mind as these questions from the young people we started off with. If Jesus says believers will hear his voice and follow him, how does that happen? How do we in congregations expect hearing and following to happen? We want our children to be faithful and make good choices, but how do we hope that that will come to be?

These same questions in their turn make me think of the time Jesus was in the wilderness. The struggles that he had for those 40 days and nights were struggles in which he discerned voices that also had to do with making choices. He was tempted to break his fast; he was tempted to acquire power in society, and possibly throw himself off a tall building. When Jesus was out in that wilderness he may have seemed to be alone, and on one level, of course, he was alone. But there is a way also that he was not completely alone. There had been faithful temple teachers throughout his youth and early years who had taught him the wisdom literature of his time and tradition. There were the great texts of that wisdom literature, many of which he knew by heart. Those teachers and those texts were also in an certain real sense with him during his time in the wilderness. So in that sense also, he was not completely alone.

And then, consider also when Jesus came back from the wilderness, what was the first thing he did? Well, one of the first things he did was join into what we today might call a spiritual community. We don’t know exactly how many people were involved. But we do know that there was a core group of roughly 15 or 20 people or so. There was Jesus and the 12 apostles and Mary and Martha and Lazarus and maybe a few others. How do people of faith learn to hear the voice of faith and to follow in a way of life that is spiritually informed and empowered? How do people of faith find their way in a direction that helps them to make good choices and commit themselves to good decisions? Well, one signal that we get from these stories of faith that we find in the gospels is that faith is formed in us when we come together and join together. Faith is formed when we join proactively into groups. Faith happens when people seek out spiritual truth and a spiritually based life in the context of committed spiritual communities.

So, how do we move ourselves in the direction of being enabled and empowered to make good choices; to make consistently better choices in our lives? One thing we can do is to be part of vital and meaningful communities. And then there is a second thing we can do and that is that when we do make decisions and choices, when we do sense that we are being called to act in certain ways and do certain things, to be meaningfully committed to doing those things. In the mainstream church, it is my observation and my sense that the subject of commitment and the importance of commitment is not something that we tend to emphasize very much. We like to be able to feel, well maybe I’ll go to church, but, maybe I won’t. We like to be able to say, well, sure, I’ll join that committee, but if something comes up on the days that that committee meets, well sometimes I’ll go to the meetings but sometimes I won’t. That kind of thinking is very common in the mainstream church as I know from many years of my own experience being a minister, and as I also know from conversations that I have with different ones of my fellow clergy who have to deal with these realities also. In the mainstream church we very definitely bend over backwards not to say anything that might imply any kind of judgment of one another. But commitment is important. If you are going to be a part of a spiritual community it is important to meet regularly with that community and have a commitment to it. If you agree to serve on a group or a committee it is important to honor the commitment you make. It’s important to go to the meetings. If you are part of a church it is important to come to Sunday services. If someone asks you to do something and you have said yes, it is important to say what you mean and mean what you say. Commitment is important. It is an important part of the spiritual life and it is certainly an important part of living together in spiritual community. And in my experience this is something that the mainstream church needs but may have lost sight of in some important ways, and needs to be reminded of the importance of this value, which is the value of commitment.

When Jesus came back from that wilderness time we mentioned a moment ago and returns to his hometown, Nazareth, we are told that Jesus, filled with the power of the Spirit, goes into the synagogue. And we are told that, as was his custom, entering into the synagogue, he stood up to read and was given the scroll of the prophet Isaiah. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it is written, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” And we are told he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. Then he began to say to them, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”

Now, there are a lot of ways to interpret that passage, but the most basic meaning that I hear in it is that when Jesus interacted with the passage he was willing to commit himself to make its meaning real within his own life. He didn’t get lost in what it might mean for someone else. He focused in on what the words in that passage meant for his own life, and then he was willing to commit himself to embodying what he did hear in that passage. And the reason we are still talking about this man 2000 years later is not, primarily that he had some interesting ideas; it is not primarily that he was a charismatic person. The reason we are still talking about him is that when he encountered spiritual truth he was willing to make a commitment to embodying that truth; to incarnating that truth in a deep and thorough and sustained way.

There’s a wonderful phrase from Judaism, which is “tikkun olam,” which means, ‘repair of the world.’ Jesus was one who was willing to commit himself to doing the deep work of bringing repair to the world, the repair needed to reorder disordered relationships; the repair needed to overcome the damage that happens when people treat each other badly. Jesus was willing to commit himself to helping to bring the repair into the world that comes when the human mind and spirit becomes lost in patterns of thinking and responding that are based on fear, patterns of thinking and responding that have forgotten that the world around us is exquisitely beautiful and bountiful and filled through and through with the presence of a God that deeply and profoundly loves us. Learning to make the good decisions, then, that come from following in the path of Jesus, involves engaging in the work of the repair of the world, but there is a caution here; because, although there are important times when we are called to engage actively in the affairs of society, at the end of the day, the primary work of repair that we are called to is always mainly the work of repair that takes place within our own minds; the work of repair that takes place within our own beings and spirits and attitudes and actions and choices. That is the one piece of repair, and the one place of repair that is and must be the main focus for all of us, and is, in the end, the only household that we have the actual capacity to fully and meaningfully do the work of repair on.

Through taking our full part in being committed to the life of spiritual community, the same spirit of God that we find in Christ stands ready to do that work of repair in us, to break down walls of fear; to restructure and mend us in order that we might in our own turn, and in our own small but important ways become ourselves repairers of the world in union with that larger Divine spirit. This is hard work, this work of repair; it is committed work, this work that leads us more and more to the place in which we can increasingly make good choices and sustain ourselves in the way of wise decisions; but we are not alone in it because it is the power of the living spirit, that is found in all life around us, and in the vital giving and receiving of our spiritual communities, that is our real peace, that is our real power of repair, and that is with us every step of the way.

SERMON: I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU COMFORTLESS

JOHN 14:15-21

4 18 10

REV ANTHONY E ACHESON

Today’s passage from John 14 I just read to you is one of the great hope passages that is found in the New Testament, and includes one of the Biblical verses that many millions of people have memorized and held close within their minds and awareness, as Jesus says to his followers, ‘I will not leave you comfortless, for I will come again to you.’ When Jesus is telling his disciples that he will not leave them comfortless, this comes in a pre-Easter and pre-resurrection setting, in which he is seeking to prepare his followers for his own departure. But he is also seeking to teach them how to open themselves to a new reality that will help them allow his resurrected spirit to still be active and alive among them.

This verse from the Bible, ‘I will not leave you comfortless’ is one that has been set to music countless times over the years for performance as anthems by church choirs. It also reminds me of another piece of music from a more secular settingn. Many of us remember, I am sure, the old hit musical Camelot, in which King Arthur, nearing the end of his days and the end of his story, is filled with memories of what had been the most idyllic place on earth during his earthly days. In that musical play, alone on stage, the broken, forgiving king sings out and asks us to remember:

Ask ev’ry person if they’ve heard the story,

And tell it strong and clear if they have not,

That once there was a fleeting wisp of glory

Called Camelot

Don’t let it be forgot that once there was a spot

For one brief, shining moment

That was known as Camelot.

In that song King Arthur is asking, is begging those who hear him and those who follow to keep the story going. Pass it on to your children and your children’s children; and in the very remembering, you will keep the dream alive. In the midst of the despair around you, recall this special time, recall this special place. And, perhaps-who knows-perhaps this one brief, shining moment will come again.

In today’s gospel reading we can hear echoes between that song and Jesus’ preparation of his disciples for his own departure. There at the Passover table, Jesus spins out his last words to his closest friends. Throughout these chapters in John, Jesus is saying the same things over and over in different ways. The central word is repeatedl, ‘love.’

” If you love me you will keep my commandments.

” A new commandment I give you, that you love one another as I have loved you.

” Whoever does not love me does not keep my words.

” I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.

“But how can we do that?” the disciples must have wondered. Knowing they had a hard time loving each other even while Jesus was with them, how could believers love like that. In Arthur’s song from Camelot, the message was, let’s just keep singing about that time when Arthur was here. But the song from Jesus comes to us bit differently than that. Jesus didn’t call the disciples to hold up his life as mental memory but rather to open their inner beings to a different reality, namely that of his ongoing spiritual presence. “I will not leave you comfortless,” Jesus said, “For I will come again to you.” Jesus wasn’t in denial about what was going to happen. “In a little while the world will no longer see me,” he told them. But then he adds, “but you will see me. Because I live, you also will live.” I will not leave you comfortless, he says, because I will still in fact be with you, and I will in fact continue to be in you.

And how will this happen? It will happen because of the spirit. The Spirit is the other theme repeated over and over around that table and in these chapters of John. Jesus refers to this spirit in different ways. Sometimes he uses the metaphor of the Advocate, which means counselor or even lawyer. Jesus is using the analogy of having a good lawyer who will stand beside you and speak on your behalf. Sometimes he uses the image of a Helper; sometimes he uses the image of a teacher, as one who teaches the truth, one who is a Spirit of Truth. Later he uses the image of himself as a vine and to which we all can be connected as branches. When Jesus said, “I am coming to you,” he didn’t mean he would return in the same form as he had left them. Jesus would be with believers in a different way. Or perhaps we could say that God would be with them in a different way because Jesus had been there. The eternal, cosmic Word of God had become flesh in Jesus. That’s what John wrote at the very beginning of this Gospel. Now he is saying that even though the days of Jesus being there in the flesh are over, he would still be there in a way that is equally real but as a Spirit, which blows like a wind over the face of the deep in creation.

Shortly before this, Jesus had said something audacious. “Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these because I am going to the Father.” Here is a promise that the Spirit will breathe the same kind and quality of life as Jesus had into you and into me. In the power of the Spirit, Jesus will continue to be present with us. “I will not leave you comfortless. I will come again to you.” Thus it is that Love and the Spirit, these two, are at the center of Jesus’ farewell message.

Rosemary Radford Reuther is a church historian who has written that there are two core things the church must do. One is to pass on the tradition from one generation to another. This is like King Arthur’s song. Tell the story of Jesus to your children and your children’s children. But that is not all. According to Professor Reuther, there is a second thing the church must do. And that is to be open to the winds of the Spirit by which the tradition comes alive in each generation, and is able to change and adapt and evolve in each generation. That is different than Camelot; that is different and deeper than mere memory. There are times we may want to retreat into mere memory, or into a religion that is primarily keeping a tradition going. There may be times when the whole notion of believing in God seems crazy. Jesus knew his disciples would have days like that. But those are the times when we need to just keep on moving forward, one foot after the other, to keep us moving ahead on the journey of faith, with the trust that the spirit will indeed return to encourage us when believing seems difficult and hope feels absurd.

In recent days we’ve all been looking, looking, looking for the arrival of Spring. There have been a couple of times in recent weeks, including earlier this week, when you could just practically taste it in the warmth of the sun throughout the day. These last couple of mornings we woke up and it was cold and wintry again, including the snow.. But despite that, we know in our hearts that the Spring is right at hand even if it is not quite yet. So we need to just keep walking, one foot in front of another, and in its time it will reappear. “I will not leave you comfortless,” said Jesus. “For like the warming and joy of spring I will come again to you.”

This is a promise that is far deeper than Camelot, and it wasn’t only for Jesus’ disciples, but also for you and for me. I will not leave you comfortless, he says. May our ongoing openness to God’s grace and presence lead us to the comfort of the spirit in all we do today and throughout this new week, and season, of opportunity for life. And we ask all these things in the name of the living Christ. Amen.

Sermon Title:   The Unrealness of Separateness

Text: Matthew 13:1-9

Rev. Anthony E Acheson

April 11, 2010

In today’s scripture Jesus tells of a farmer sowing seed on different kinds of soil. The seeds that that fell off the side fared the poorest. Those that fell on medium ground did medium well. And those that fell on the ground that was the most fertile produced with remarkable abundance.

This parable of the sower draws our attention to the fact that there are habitual aspects of the way we humans live our lives that tend to block out, or choke off, the fertile, life-giving power of God. There are chronic tendencies in the ways we manage our thinking and doing that keep us from being the fully loving and creative people we could be. Each of us knows some version of this in our own life-experience. We all have our own personally tailored forms of feeling alienated, being less than we can be, acting dysfunctionally, engaging in addictive behaviors, or doing tangible damage to ourselves or other people.

And if we each knows the sting of our own individual limitations, we have only to scan the news, or read small portions of history to be reminded of the struggles of the human race as a whole to manage itself in anything approaching a healthy, life-affirming way. To say that we are a species that fouls its own nest would be an understatement if we are at all honest about what we chronically do to our air, soil and water. In a world that produces plenty of food, we have hundreds of millions of people who are starving or malnourished. In a world in which tens of millions of people live in lavish extravagance, hundreds of millions live in squalor and poverty. War and violence continue to be practices that we humans turn to quickly rather than rarely. In the last century more than one hundred million human beings were killed in wars and various political programs and pogroms. It would be hard to argue against the proposition that when it comes to the functioning of the human mind and spirit there are serious problems that need to be addressed.

It is in the face of these imperfections and problem, however, that this parable of the sower points us in the direction of a living pathway from which we can find real healing for our condition. This pathway involves three core components and essential stages. The first is the affirmation that the fertile, fecund power of God is the ground reality of our lives. It is our fundamental Source, which serves both as our original starting point and as our necessary destination. It is the Life-Force that lies behind all things, as symbolized by the abundant yield that springs from the rich, productive soil. The first stage, then, of this living pathway is the primacy of God.

The second stage is found in the assertion that there is a core problem in the human condition which expresses itself in our chronic tendency to raise up obstacles against the Divine power. Those obstacles are symbolized, in the parable, by the shallow soil, the rocks, and the thorns. And then the third stage set forth in the story is the implication that there is an available solution to this core problem. That solution begins with the centrality of maintaining a conscious awareness within ourselves that this Divine fertile soil exists, and has produced us, and is eternally available to us. The second half of the solution is the unambiguous implication that if we want to fully enjoys the fruits of that soil; if we want to take advantage of its potential abundance; if we want to be blessed by the best gifts this life has to offer, we have to do some work. We have to do the work of removing the rocks in our own patches of inner soil so that they can BECOME truly fertile. We have to do the work of removing the thorns that have overgrown them. We have to do the hard work of digging and working our inner soil in such a way as to break up whatever shallowness prevents it from protecting and sustaining the crop it exists to produce. The parable draws our attention to the importance of clearing away the things that block out growth. That is true in our physical farms and gardens, as those of you who work the soil are reminded this time each year as you prepare your plots of ground for food and flowers. And if this is true in our physical farming, think how much more it applies in the gardens of our inner, spiritual lives as well.

This three-fold sequence, then, is the basic structure of this parable of the sower. And I would suggest, well beyond that, that this three-fold sequence represents the core architecture of the religious and spiritual life as a whole. First, we allow ourselves to perceive the original rightness to things. Second, we acknowledge the way we humans have become entangled with inner obstacles that work against that rightness. And third, we commit ourselves to engaging in the sustained work of becoming conscious of those blocks and entanglements, and then lovingly but courageously removing and overcoming them, such that the original, underlying Divine power can live and smile through us without resistance.

I’d like to use the few minutes we have remaining to reflect on these chronic blocks and resistances against God that have become so entrenched in our patterns of thinking and acting both individually and collectively. What are those blockages? Or perhaps more to the point, What is the nature of the process by which those blockages emerge and arise from within us?  To address that question in a comprehensive way would, of course,  would take many sermons, talks and books. But for today I want to draw our attention to one factor that lies at the very core of this tendency to push against and resist the power and presence of God.

This one central element is the belief-a belief, we should emphasize, that is held deeply and pervasively within the collective human mind-the belief that we humans are, in some fundamental and real way, separate from God; the belief that that we humans are, in some fundamental and real way, separate from the rest of reality; the belief that we humans are, in some fundamental and real way separate from Reality-Itself. That belief in the realness of; that belief in the realness of our being disconnected from God, leads in [its] urn to a corresponding. It leads to the corresponding belief that we are separate and disconnected in some real and fundamental way from life itself; that we are separate and disconnected from the rest of reality; that we are disconnected and separate from the universe; and that we are separate and disconnected from one another. Those two beliefs-that we are fundamentally separate, first, from God and, second, from the universe– are two different manifestations of an underlying core belief in the reality of separation itself. These are two different manifestations of the belief that separation is a phenomenon that actually exists in the universe.

[Now] This core belief in separateness is so deeply ingrained in our minds that we hardly notice that it is even there. And then when our attention is drawn to the subject, and when our attention is drawn to the fact that we do believe that separateness is real-that entities in the universe are actually separate from one another in some real or actual way-we tend to think or say, ‘Well, of course things are separate. That is obvious to common sense. This piece of paper is separate from this glass, isn’t it? This pulpit is separate from that pew, isn’t it? These people listening are separate from that person speaking, aren’t they?’

Well, in actual fact, the answer to those questions is, ‘No.’ This paper is not separate from that glass, and this pulpit is not separate from those pews. Our collective knowledge has now informed us clearly and unambiguously that this piece of paper is a form and manifestation of energy; and that this glass is also a form and manifestation of energy; and that this empty space in between the paper and the glass is actually not empty space, but is a collection of gases which are themselves also forms and manifestations of energy. What exists here in this zone where you and I are present this morning, where there is paper and air and a glass; where there is a pulpit and pews and people, and, of course, many, many other things; what exists here in this zone is really a continuum of energy, or, we could say, it is a continuum of Being-Itself. Or we could say it is Reality being in a continuum with Itself. It is only our senses and perceptions, and our patterns of thinking and observing that mislead us into believing that these various things I’ve been mentioning are in some actual way separate from one another. Our senses and ordinary mental perceptions, though, are only reliable within a very narrow range. They can and do help us with handling and managing the ordinary objects and actions of day to day life. They can and do help us to work with paper documents, and the transmission of information; they can and do help us drink water, grow food on fertile soil, and take proper care of our bodies. Our ordinary senses and ordinary ways of thinking can help us manage life on a very practical, physical or technological level; and that all has its own place, importance and legitimacy.

But what our ordinary senses and what our ordinary ways of thinking cannot do is to show us the deeper layers of reality. They cannot show us the deeper levels and dimensions of reality, on which everything is connected. Our ordinary senses and thinking cannot and do not show us those more foundational levels of Reality on which all things are in a continuum. We could also say that this is the level on which Reality-Itself is in a continuum with itself. The more we become aware of this foundational fact-and it is a fact-the more we become empowered to apprehend the core reality behind the spiritual and religious enterprise; namely, that there is, in fact, only one Reality that actually exists; and that that one single Reality is in fact God, and that you and I are part of that one, single and ultimately Divine Reality. We are inextricably part of it. We are inextricably connected to God. We are in an inextricable union with God. There is no possible means by which you or I can become fundamentally disconnected from God. We may-and do–convince our minds that we are separate from God, just as we can-and do-convince ourselves that the paper is fundamentally separate from the glass, and the pulpit from the pew. But there is a deeper layer and level where the oneness, and the unity, and the communion, just simply exist-and in fact are incapable of not existing. Yes, we may and do convince ourselves that we are separate from God, but that belief, at its core, and at its most fundamental level, is an illusion. And here is another important thing to be aware of.  In addition to its being an illusion, that belief that we are in some actual real way separate from God, is also inevitably and inherently a belief in our own core, essential alienation. If we believe we are separate from God,  we have created a belief system within ourselves by which we define ourselves as being alienated both from God, and from Life and from the rest of Reality. And the truth about the way the human mind works is that if we believe that we are alienated in some fundamental way, that belief will express itself in patterns of behavior that will themselves be both alienated and productive of further alienation. When we believe that we are alienated and separated from that which is most fundamental in the universe, we inevitably entangle and entrench ourselves in a cascading chain of personality patterns, addictions, and negative behaviors that themselves cause a great deal of alienation, hurt and harm in the human experience.

But there is a way out. There is a way out of our dysfunctional and pain-producing systems. That way out is complex and involves an often lengthy path and work. But this is where it starts. It starts with recognizing that the way forward lies in oneness with God. And the good news is that oneness with God is our actual condition. It is the actual condition of Reality Itself. It is an accurate description of the way things actually are. And the great good news, as I understand it, is that our job is not to create that oneness. Our job is not to heroically create oneness with God or with Life-Itself. Our job is most essentially to allow it. Our job is to surrender to it. Our job is to uncover it, and to yield ourselves into it, as if relaxing on our backs on a glorious spring day on a piece of fertile ground with no rocks or thorns upon it.

Surrender to Life is easier to say than to do; and it is easier to do on some days than on many others. But on each day we can do it some. And on each day we can try again and begin anew. May this be one such day. And thanks be to You, O God, for your eternal Presence with and through us. And we pray this in the name of the living Christ. Amen.

EASTER HOMILY

1 CORINTHIANS 15

4 4 10

ANTHONY E. ACHESON, M.DIV

As we begin this Easter reflection, I would begin with a question: What brings us here today? Why have we come? Why do we come on Easter Sunday? In the final analysis no one can answer that question for you except you. But one thing I know is that we’re all here because we are seeking something, and that the something we are seeking is some version of greater life and greater aliveness. And as we engage in that seeking, somewhere in our innermost self we sense and know that the life we are seeking is in fact available to us.

So, I begin today with the question, ‘What are you looking for this Easter Sunday morning?’ And although our answers to that question do have unique and highly personal aspects for each of us, I also believe that there are some reasons gathering us to this Easter service that we have in common. And one of those factors that we have in common has to do with learning how to deal with loss, and learning how to find life again, in the face of loss.  It may be the loss of a special person to death or distance. It may be the loss of love because of a rupture in a relationship. It might be the loss of a part of your own sense of self, including the loss of your youth, or health or hope. It might be a loss of self-confidence, self-respect, or self-appreciation. It could be the loss of that sense of wonder and awe and delight that we had as children, that sense of fascination about the sheer Mystery of things and the sense of life’s infinite possibilities. It might be a loss of faith, or a sense of certainty, or sense of security. Or it might be the loss of that sense of being fully alive that’s so hard to sustain or regain.

The specifics may be different for each of us. But there isn’t one person in this room that hasn’t felt the sting of losing something precious. And then behind that memory of specific losses is the knowledge we all have that there will be at least the one more large loss, namely the loss of our own physical life, along with the loss of this personality we have all become so used to considering to be what we are. And it is in the face of this dilemma of the fact of loss that Easter wants to come and take you by the hand and caress your face, as it were,with a message of great tenderness and comfort. And the message Easter brings us is a message so grand and exquisite, that we have to stand back and strain our eyes to make it out in the same way that a newborn child has to strain to allow her mother’s face, or father’s form, come into focus, when she is recently born and still in the early stages of learning what, for her, is the whole new mode of perception represented by physical eyesight.

And the great message of Easter as I understand it is that on the deepest levels of reality, and in the deepest, truest actuality of things, there is, ultimately, no loss that is final or permanent or complete. Yes, of course, there are deep changes that happen to us. And on surface levels there are things that are lost. When we die, we may and do lose the identity that is what we think we are. We may and do lose the form that we currently take. We think we are this body, which we are not; but that does go. We think we are this personality that has accumulated through the various experiences and memories that we have built up. We are not actually our personalities in our deepest essence. But those components that make up our personalities do go eventually.

But the great message of Easter as I understand it is that underneath all those things; underneath all the things that make up our personalities, underneath all the structures and processes that make up this temporary form we appear in now as physical bodies, there is a core, irreducible, underlying essence and consciousness, that will never cease to be. Underneath all the structures that make up our bodies and personalities, our likes and dislikes, our associations and avoidances, our memories and opinions, there is a core consciousness that is a small and local expression of a Universal Consciousness, a Universal Awareness that has always existed; that was never born and cannot die, that never came to be and will never cease to be. Underneath all the things that we think we are, there is this core consciousness, this core awareness, this underlying and universal sense of is-ness, that the Bible in some places refers to as an I-AM-ness, that is simply and irreducibly present, and in actual fact cannot cease to exist, and is in fact the most fundamental nature of existence itself, and of your and my existence.

On this level of form with which we are now so deeply engaged, and by which we become so fully entranced, there is, of course change occurring constantly. We are constantly undergoing deep change, constant, endless transformation from one form of life into other forms of life. Nature tells us the story of change and transformation in many ways. Both Jesus and Paul, in today’s reading, speak of the grain of wheat that has to fall to the ground and die before it can bear fruit. Our great trees tell us the story of small acorns that have to break apart and die before they can become those great trees. We marvel when we look at a thick and slowly plodding caterpillar and then, if we’re lucky, we can watch it do a truly miraculous shape-shift and flutter off as a butterfly. If we let them, those seeds and acorns and caterpillars can be teachers to us. They can be spiritual teachers. Because your and my destiny is that same as their destiny. You and I also have a seed aspect. You and I also have an acorn aspect, and a caterpillar aspect. And those outer shells and skins, which in our cases are our bodies and conditioned personalities, will, like theirs, split apart and drop away. But also like them, there will continue to be an inner aliveness that will continue to flower and flourish. Consider that caterpillar I mentioned a moment ago. That rude and fleshy tube of the caterpillar is lost, but the alive living thing inside it does not cease to be alive. What does happen is that that alive inner thing in it just keeps shifting, shifting, shifting onto new expressions of aliveness that keep being different, different, different. If you could find a way to imagine in your mind, or even feel within your being, the simple basic consciousness that might exist within that caterpillar, there would be a simple basic base-line of awareness when the caterpillar is intact. There would continue to be that simple, basic, base-line awareness as the caterpillar’s wiggling, wriggling tube starts to break apart. That simple base line of awareness would continuedto be there when the caterpillar does finally fall apart. And then there would be that same simple basic awareness as what now appears as brightly colored wings start to move. And then that same sense of awareness, or is-ness, or I AM-ness would continue to be there as the new formed butterfly  soon is flying through the air. As all this is going on, soon the caterpillar would in fact be dead, but the core awareness of what formerly constituted the caterpillar would still be experiencing itself. That original core awareness, that core is-ness, that core I-AM-ness, that was so recently in the caterpillar, is still very much in existence, even though by now it is being expressed in a completely different form, that is quite literally unrecognizable from its earlier form as a caterpillar.

I said earlier that Easter has to do with dealing with loss. Here is an important thing to notice. If we look at these three examples we’ve been considering: the seed of wheat, the acorn, the caterpillar……when we look at those three things…..if we focus our attention heavily or exclusively on the outer, surface level of those things; if we focus our attention heavily or exclusively just on the casing of the wheat seed, or just on the hard outer shell of the acorn, or just on the fleshy worm-like form of the caterpillar: if that is where we focus our attention, then all we are going to see is a story of loss and death. But if we allow our attention to expand into a larger frame of reference; if we allow our attention to see not just the seed that breaks apart, but also the wheat plant that emerges; not just the acorn but also the oak tree that rises up; not just the caterpillar but also the butterfly that takes to the skies; if we shift our focus of attention in those ways, then we are able to see a higher or larger truth that in each of these processes we’ve been looking at, even though in each case there are instances of loss that do take place, nevertheless from a larger, more encompassing perspective, these are not, overall, stories of loss. Or, to put it another way, in all three of these processes, even though some peripheral secondary elements are lost, that which is central and essential in each case is not lost. Yes, the shell of the wheat seed is lost, but the life in it continues to exist, althoug in a different form now as a wheat plant. Yes, the hard shell of the acorn is lost, but the life in it is simply going on to bigger and better things as an oak tree. And the same with the caterpillar. In each of these three cases, the outer form is lost, but the actual life, the actual aliveness….is not lost at all; in each case the life in question has a continuous and ongoing existence. And in fact, in each of these three cases, the actual life within goes on to a larger, and fuller and more complete, and we might say more fulfilling form of existence and expression.

And so it is with us. Just as the seed and the acorn and the caterpillar need to let go, at some point, of their outer form they became familiar with over a period of time, so we also have to do analogously the same thing. Until we are ready to let go of today, we can’t have tomorrow. Until we are ready to lose our baby teeth, we don’t get the adult version of our teeth. Until we are willing to let go of our caterpillar-version of what we are, we can’t rise up and be resurrected, if you will, to use the language of this Sunday, as our  butterfly-version. Death and major loss seem horrifyingly final to the perception of our usual and customary senses. But at the deepest level of things all of our experiences, including all of our losses, even those that come through death, are not in their essence terminations. They are, much more foundationally, transformations–and the art and skill of living well depends heavily, first, on seeing them as such; and then, secondly, on welcoming them as such.

That is the truth of which Easter is one of life’s greatest articulations. Easter holds before us an archetypal story sketching in broad outline the constant unfolding of new realities and expressions of life and awareness that stretch out before us, even if the forms they take will be radically different from the forms we currently know. Easter reminds us that it is in the nature of life to constantly shape-shift from one form to another. The fact that what we see with our eyes and feel with our skin today will one day fall away must not be allowed to conceal the fact that the life behind and within those forms will never fall away. That deeply hopeful voice of Easter tells us that just as a cross could not fully end the power and presence of the Christ, so death and loss cannot fully end the power and heavenly presence that lives as the core kernel at the center of each of us. According to Easter, in the end life wins. And for this, we can truly say, ‘Hallelujah!’

And for this we can also say, Thanks be to God. Amen.

LAZARUS COME FORTH

JOHN 11:1-45

3 21 10

REV ANTHONY E ACHESON

Today we hear this remarkable story of the raising of Lazarus, one of the most important moments in the Gospel of John, and perhaps the most dramatic story in all the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ active ministry. Like many Gospel stories this is one that can be read on several levels. On one level, this account is an example of what in literature is referred to as foreshadowing. In modern culture it might be analogous to a trailer for a movie in which we would be shown the main features of a coming attraction in order to interest us in advance to come and see the whole movie later when it is released. On this level the raising of Lazarus gives us an advance warning and notice of the main event, the resurrection of Christ himself, which in John’s Gospel will come several chapters later.

So, on that first level, this Lazarus story is an example of foreshadowing. And then, there is a second level on which this story speaks to us. On this second level, the raising of Lazarus provides us with a personal promise. It tells us that if an ordinary person like Lazarus can find new life after death, so can ordinary people like you and I hope for new life after our physical death, and also after the smaller deaths and losses of ordinary life. As we contemplate this text, I am struck especially by the phrase Jesus uses right at the end of the story when he says of Lazarus, ‘unbind him and let him go.’ That instruction of Jesus implies clearly that in order to receive the new life of resurrection, some form of unbinding has to happen. Before Lazarus could step forth and resume his life, he had to be unbound in some way. He had to be unbound physically from his burial wrappings, to be sure. But the implication is that he had to be unbound in some way spiritually as well. We are told that when Lazarus was dead, he was bound, and when he was raised his bonds were loosed. But if we were to look at that form the reverse angle, we could also say that whenever you or I are bound - or tied up within ourselves psychologically or morally or spiritually, the result will be that a certain kind of deadening will happen to us. Correspondingly, whenever we are loosed, whenever we are unbound morally and spiritually and psychologically, those are the times when we are returned back to life and health and aliveness.

When we read this Gospel of John, it is always important to be aware of the way in which John in particular among the gospel writers, has a repetitive style of writing on two distinct levels, one being a literal, obvious level, and the second being a figurative and more subtle level. In John this distinction and alternation between the literal level and the figurative level leaves us with ongoing choices between different approaches to interpreting passages such as these. And I would suggest that when we consider this alternation between the literal and figurative levels of meaning, we have three primary interpretive choices; three primary ways of interpreting. So let’s look at these three primary interpretive approaches.

First, John sometimes uses images that are true both literally and metaphorically. Let me give you an example. We hear Jesus say, “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains a single grain only; but if it does die it bears much fruit.” (John 12:24) Now, that statement by Jesus in which he uses that image of a seed, or a grain of wheat, is true both literally and metaphorically. It is true literally with respect to the seed. A physical seed does need to break apart; it does need to die to its seed-ness…..or we might say it needs to die to its form as a seed…..it needs to break apart and die in a certain literal, physical sense, in order to fulfill its function as a seed. So that passage is true literally. But it is also clearly true metaphorically as well with respect to ourselves. Jesus is making a literally true statement about a seed in order to draw attention to a reality about our own personal, moral, psychological and spiritual condition, under the terms of which we also, like a seed,  have certain times and situations in which we too need to break apart, metaphorically speaking; we also, like the seed, need to have times when we allow certain parts of ourselves to die, to be released, to let go, in order to fulfill our function to provide a next, and possibly higher or more advanced manifestation of life. Like the seed, we too, at times, need to be able and willing to break apart and die in order to let some form of new life sprout.

So, on this first level, there are some stories in John that are true, both literally and metaphorically. And then, secondly, in the Gospel of John, there are some stories and images used by John which are definitely true metaphorically, but may or may not be true literally. An example of this kind in John’s gospel can be found in John chapter 2, in the story where Jesus turns the water into wine, at the wedding in Cana of Galilee. That story clearly has a metaphorical dimension to it. And we can say that it has clear metaphorical truth in pointing our awareness to both the reality of transformation in nature, and the potential value of transformation in our minds and sprits and lives. So, that story is clearly true and valid metaphorically. And, in addition to that, it also clearly has some connection to literal physical truth. It does definitely have a literal dimension to it. Water does in fact get turned into wine. Water does in fact get turned into wine all the time, every day in fact, in thousands of vineyards around the world.  As C.S. Lewis has pointed out in an essay on that passage, part of the meaning of that story lies precisely in its power to help open our eyes to see that that entire natural process by which water and grapes and soil and plants and yeast and fermentation and sunlight and photosynthesis all combine together to  create wine. That whole process is in itself a miracle - the whole process of turning water into grapes, and grapes into wine is in itself fully and profoundly miraculous as is every life-process. But most of us most of the time don’t usually see it. We often miss the ongoing daily miracles of life-itself for what they are. So, this story from John 2, then, is a story in this second category that is definitely true metaphorically, and has some connection to literal, physical truth, but may or may not be literally true IN THE SENSE that there may or may not have been an actual miracle that was performed instantaneously at a specific wedding 2000 years ago in which several vats of water became wine an instantaneous act.

So, we’ve been seeing that one of the characteristics of the gospel of John is that there are several passages in it that have both a literal and metaphorical level. And I’ve been suggesting that when we come upon such passages we have a choice between three primary kinds of ways of interpreting them. One is that there are some places in John’s gospel that need to be seen as being true both metaphorically and literally. And then, secondly, that there are some stories and images used by John which are definitely true metaphorically, but may or may not be true literally.

And then, finally and thirdly, I would suggest that there are some stories in the Gospel of John that are definitely true metaphorically, but are almost certainly not true literally. The most obvious example of this third way of interpreting and seeing a passage in the Gospel of John is the one in which Jesus is speaking with Nicodemus, who was prominent in the party of the Pharisees who were largely opposed to Jesus. Jesus at one point says to Nicodemus, ‘In order to enter the kingdom of heaven you have to be born again.’ Now, we should notice what Nicodemus says back to Jesus. Nicodemus say, ‘What? Can a person actually go back inside his mother’s womb and be born all over again?’ And when Nicodemus says that,  Jesus reproves him, and makes clear that it is precisely and primarily because he [Nicodemus] is interpreting the story literally……. it is precisely and primarily because he has a tendency toward interpreting the story in a literal way……that he can’t understand it. This is a very, very important point. Jesus is telling Nicodemus directly and unambiguously, ‘The reason you can’t understand what I am saying, is precisely and primarily because you are trying to interpret it literally. The reason I consider this passage so important is because it is a direct reminder from Jesus that sometimes it is precisely because we turn to literal interpretations of our wisdom literature…..very much including the Bible…..that we find it so difficult to understand many of these texts; and we correspondingly find it difficult to allow them to enter into our mental and spiritual world in a creative and living way.

Therefore, with respect to literalness, which of these categories does today’s story of Lazarus fit into? Does it fit into 1.True both literal and metaphorically; 2. True metaphorically but may or may not have some connection to the literal level; 3.or the third category that is rooted primarily in its spiritual and figurative meaning but is not to be taken as a literal account?

To my eye, this story fits primarily into that third category. To my eye, this is probably not a literal depiction of an event in which there was an actual man Lazarus who actually lay in a tomb for four days and began to decompose and smell badly but then was restored to full health and revived. To my mind this story was probably not literal in that way, but does nonetheless have a profound and powerful literal truth to it in that it promises and points us toward what is an actual truth, that death is not the end, that life does continue - although in a very different form from what life is now for us, just as any seed continues to live after it dies, but does so in a very different form from the time when it was a seed. With all of these stories, we must always ask, what is the main point of the story? Is the main point that we will have our bodies back after we die? Or is the main point that there will continue to be life after we die, even though it may be and will be in a profoundly different form. In this case, in my view, the main point is that our faith promises such a hope, and that Christ calls us to open ourselves to larger faith towards such a hope. That is one of the most major gifts of the Gospel. It is one of the great gifts of this magnificent story in John 11, the raising of Lazarus and his being unbound and allowed to go forth. It is one of the great gifts of the even grander Easter stories which it foreshadows and which we will celebrate two weeks from today. And my hope and prayer is that this would be a season this year of profoundly strengthened hope and joy as we celebrate the triumph of eternity and of the nature of life itself, and of our lives. And this we pray in the name of the living Christ. Amen.

ALWAYS ANOTHER CLIMB

LUKE 9:28-36

MARCH 7, 2010

REV ANTHONY E. ACHESON

If it seems like this is a passage from the Bible that I have preached about before, or that I have preached about frequently, that is in fact the case. I learned something in the last several days when I was having lunch with some of my clergy colleagues and one of them told me that this story of the Transfiguration that I just read for you is the only story that appears in our lectionary every year rather than every third year as is the case with most New Testament stories, given the fact that the lectionary we use runs on a three year cycle. Why that is so, none of us in our local clergy group has yet discovered, but here this passage is again, and that is OK by me because I find this to be a very fascinating story indeed.

Sermons on the Transfiguration frequently take one of three kinds of approaches.  One is to focus on the mountaintop experience itself, the radiant glory at the heart of this story, as Jesus is transfigured and becomes dazzlingly radiant before Peter, James and John. Another approach focuses on the inevitable fading of the glory, and the fact that most of us live most of our lives in the ordinary reality of day to day life, which is a long psychological distance from radiant, transfigured, spiritual glory. And then there is a third approach that focuses on the different ways that the disciples misinterpret and misperceive the transfigured Christ. They misinterpret and misperceive the transfiguration when they try to take that large-scale extraordinary experience and squeeze it down into an ordinary box. Peter, in particular, wants to turn his attention quickly to an ordinary and familiar framework. He wants to turn his attention to an already existing, ordinary way of organizing experience, as represented by those three booths or tents or dwellings that Peter wants to set up so that Jesus and Moses and Elijah can go and calm down and get things back to ordinary; to get things back to ‘as usual’ status.  Peter wants to interpret a fundamentally new experience by fitting it into comfortably old way of interpreting and dealing with it.

So those are three frequent ways of approaching this passage, all of which are completely legitimate. But today I’d like to focus on another aspect of this story that has to do not with what happened in that mountain top experience itself; nor in how it might be misinterpreted, or in what had to happen after it was over. But today I would suggest that we focus on a fourth aspect of this text which is the simple fact that in order for that mountain top experience to have taken place, Jesus and Peter, James and John first had to actually climb a mountain. We understand, of course, that powerful spiritual experiences can take place in any kind of location. But in this story, there is clear symbolism implied in the fact that this experience of glory took place high upon a mountain. In the Bible, mountains are symbolic as key dwelling places for spiritual reality and spiritual activity.  And who among us hasn’t felt and sensed something of the presence of God in high and majestic peaks. The symbolism of mountains occurs at several key places in the Bible, including especially those associated with Moses and Elijah, who are the two key figures who appear with Jesus in today’s transfiguration story. In Exodus 19 we hear that God summoned Moses, where: well, to the top of a mountain; to the top of Mount Sinai. (Ex. 19:20) In 1 Kings 19 [as we heard read here last week,] we hear that in his time of trouble Elijah fled from those who were trying to kill him. And where did he go? Well, he also fled to a mountain, and sought God by fasting for 40 days and nights on Mount Horeb. In the Gospel of Matthew we hear that Jesus himself gave the summation of his teaching in a sermon on a mountain…the Sermon on the Mount. So when Luke says that Jesus took Peter, James and John to have this profound experience with Moses and Elijah the symbolism of the mountain is strong. And what is that symbolism? One part of it, certainly, is that on a mountain we can see more than we can often see down in the valley. In that sense we could say that at the top of a mountain we are able to have a wider consciousness or awareness of the reality that is around us. So that is one important part of the symbolism of the mountain.

And then there is a second and also mportant part of the symbolism of the mountain that we should be sure not to miss and that is that in order to have a true mountaintop experience, in most cases you first have to actually climb the mountain, and the process of climbing a mountain of any significance, the process of climbing a mountain of any height, is a process that involves a lot of effort.  It is a process that involves a lot of hard work.  I haven’t climbed a lot of mountains, but I have climbed a few of at least moderate height and difficulty, and one thing I know for sure is that getting from here to there, getting from ordinary base camp to those glorious, majestic vistas that are one of the main reasons we go to mountains…..that journey can take some serious sweat and effort.

I remember about 20 years ago when I was living is Brattleboro, after having gazed at Mount Monadnock many, many times sitting over there to the east on the flat land of southern New Hampshire, I thought to myself, ‘Self, I’m going to go over there today and give myself a nice pleasant walk up that hill.’ And I did. But even though I was relatively young at the time, and even though I was in good physical condition, that was a real job getting up there. It surprised me. After I had been hiking for 45 minutes or so, I kept expecting that top of the mountain to appear soon.  But it kept on not appearing soon. That took some work getting up there. Not to mention getting down. The view from the top was absolutely worth it. It was remarkable and spectacular on that beautiful, sunny fall day. But when I finally got to enjoy that view I was really aware that I had had to earn. I had had to work for it.

So as we consider this story of the Transfiguration from Luke Chapter 9, which is one of the Bible’s supreme stories of a mountain top experience, let’s be reminded this day that in many cases, and indeed I would suggest in most cases, having a mountain top experience probably is going to involve actually having to climb some mountain of some significance in our lives. I understand fully that there are some wonderful experiences that just happen all on their own. Sometimes they come as serendipity, as an inflow of pure grace. That happens, and it is wonderful when it happens. I understand also that God’s love for us is not something that we earn. It is just there, and it as always there as a freely given gift. But I also understand that spirituality is not just an experience. Spirituality is also a skill. It is something that can be taught and learned. And as with anything that can be taught and learned that teaching and learning process only happens successfully in most cases through considerable work and effort.

Consider this teaching from Jesus about seeking and finding. When we hear ’seeking and finding’ mentioned in connection with Jesus our minds immediately go to a familiar framework, don’t they?; namely the familiar words in Luke 11 and Matthew 7 that we have heard many times: ‘Seek and ye shall find, ask and it will be answered,’ and so forth. The words I am about the read to you, though, come from the Gospel of Thomas. In that text we hear Jesus present a version of this same teaching, but here he does so in a slightly different way when he says, ‘Whoever searches must continue to search until they find. And when they do find, what will happen will be that they will be disturbed; and having been disturbed, what will happen will be that they will marvel; and when they marvel, they will reign over all.’ That is a presentation of Jesus’ teaching about seeking and finding that is worth great attention from us. It is more profound, I think, than the versions in Luke and Matthew, because this version in Thomas draws our attention to the fact that authentic spiritual seeking is neither simple, nor linear nor direct, nor easy. In this Thomas passage Jesus tells us, first, that if you want to be serious about your spiritual seeking it is a long process. He tells us, ‘Whoever searches must continue to search until they find.’ The key words here are, ‘continue until.’ ‘Whoever searches must continue to search until they find.’ It’s a process. It is necessarily a process that must be sustained.  And then what does Jesus say next? He says, ‘Whoever searches must continue to search until they find. And when they do find’, …..and here comes another key point……’when they do find, what will happen will be that they will be disturbed…..’ Now that is an aspect of the spiritual process that we often leave out. We find it easy to think, ‘Well, if just go ahead and read this book, or attend this group or seminar, or sit quietly in meditation, or take a walk in nature, then things will just get mellow and better.  In my experience that is very definitely not the way it always works. Yes, it can work that way some of the time. And hopefully there are times when it does work that way. But in my experience  authentic, committed spiritual process involves a great deal of ‘continuing until…’ and it also involves a great deal of times of being ‘disturbed.’ In my experience these times of being spiritually ‘disturbed’ take two primary forms. One is that I find that some of the most important times in my spiritual growth are the times when new information has come into my awareness that has disturbed my existing belief system. Some of the most important times in my spiritual growth have been the times when new evidence or insight has presented itself  in a way that has led me to confront an inherently disturbing choice: either to change my existing belief system; or to continue to try to believe something that I no longer really believe. I don’t know about you, but when those times happen, I almost always feel disturbed and uncomfortable in a significant way. But I can also look back and see that some of those disturbing times are often some of the most valuable and growth-ful times.

And then finally, the second major form of  ‘being disturbed’ in the spiritual life comes not just when we are confronted by the need to change and adjust our beliefs, but also, and most especially in those times when we are confronted by the need to change and adjust our behaviors. Have you ever had a time of needing to change or adjust one of your behaviors? Was it easy? Or was it disturbing to you in some way? Consider some of the ways we have to work to make better choices in our actions. If you have ever had a problem, say, with anger management, and a time came in your life when you realized you wanted to stop having eruptions of temper; if that has ever been an issue for you, were you able to simply say, ‘I’m not going to lash out at people any more?’ Was it that simple, or was the process of dealing with that pattern more disturbing and complicated. Or, if you have ever had a problem, say, with laziness, and a time came in your life when you said to yourself, I’m going to work hard every day from now on; if that has ever been an issue for you, were you able to accomplish that right away; or was the process of dealing with tha laziness something that disturbed your best intentions and involved a piece of hard work. Or again, if you have ever had a problem an addiction, say, with smoking too much marijuana, and a time came in your life when you realized that tha twas becoming a negative in your life that you wanted to let go of, did that letting go happen easily, or was it disturbing to you to let it go…..

Jesus tells us, ‘Whoever searches must continue to search until they find. And when they do [start finding,] what will happen will be that they will be disturbed in some; but having been disturbed in some way, what will eventually also start to happen will be that they will start to see more and to learn more; and when they see more and learn more what will happen will be that they will marvel; and when they marvel, what will happen will be that they will begin to experience some mastery and they will find more and more that they will be able reign over their own lives and over all that life presents them.’

My hope and prayer is that this time of reflection during this hour of spiritual gathering will have been for us a time of true seeking and finding both of the willingness to be disturbed, and of the real presence of God’s life-giving spirit in all the events and circumstances of our lives. In Christ’s name we ask it. Amen.

SPIRITUAL EXPERIENCE

2 28 10

1 SAMUEL 16

REV. ANTHONY E ACHESON

This Bible we read from every Sunday morning is an enormously complex and rich document which is loaded with a wide range of literary forms. A few weeks ago I preached a sermon in which I commented on the major differences within the books of what we call the Bible. All that is true. But on the other side of the equation, despite those differences, there also are, of course, many common themes. Woven throughout these various genres there is one common primary common theme, which is the re-occurrence of stories of profound spiritual experiences. The famous story from Exodus 3 tells of Moses seeing a bush that appeared to be burning but at the same time the bush was not being consumed by the fire, and Moses found himself in the process hearing the voice of God.  If you or I had that event in our lives, we would certainly call it a major spiritual experience.

Within the New Testament, the classic spiritual experience is the one that happened to Saul on his way to Damascus.  Unlike Elijah who was expecting and listening for the voice of God, Saul was expecting to take some Christians into captivity and persecute them.  Saul was neither expecting nor hoping for a spiritual experience.  With his eyes intent upon making threats to any disciple of Jesus of Nazareth, Saul was hustling to Damascus when a flash of light knocked him to the ground.  A voice asked a question, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” Without a clue as to where this question was coming from, Saul doesn’t answer the question but demands who is asking.  I don’t think Saul expected the answer he got, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting.” That is an account of a spiritual experience.

In these last couple of weeks we have begun the season of Lent for this year. As we begin to prepare ourselves through Lent for Holy Week and for the Easter season, we should be reminded that spiritual experiences did not end with the New Testament.  I read recently some results of a study that was done about spiritual experiences among Americans. According to that study, about half of Americans have had what they consider to be spiritually transformational experiences. It is not surprising that quite a few who desccribed themselves as ‘born-again’ Christians, but interestingly, 35 percent of those who reported such spiritually transformational experiences do not call themselves born-again Christians, according to this research, which comes out of the University of Chicago.  Most people who did have these experiences were part of a religious community when they had it, and reported an increased religious commitment that has lasted for many years, the study found. Many transformations occurred early in life, and many also occurred at a turbulent time of life, during an illness or after an accident or the breakup of a relationship.

The author of the study, Dr. Thomas Smith, was surprised by the reported endurance of the behavioral changes. Thirteen years, on average, had passed since most respondents’ experiences. The questions had been posed to more than 1,300 adults as the religion component of the General Social Survey by the university’s National Opinion Research Center. Nearly half of Protestants in moderate and liberal denominations and 30 percent of Catholics reported transformations. The survey marked the first time a quantitative study asked open-ended questions about transformations, Smith said. “We asked, ‘What was it like? How has it changed your life?”‘ he said. Language from the answers - for example, how many times Jesus was mentioned - was evaluated mathematically. Smith expects other researchers will build on the anecdotal answers, examining them in new ways.   The Pennsylvania-based John Templeton Foundation, which supports scientific research in religion, funded the study.

One of the people interviewed in this study was the author Marjorie Thompson. She has written a book called Soul Feast in which she observes that “…people who have had vivid experiences of God in their lives often find no place to share them in traditional churches.” That is somewhat of a troubling statement. She described a woman who had had a profound experience when she was 14. In a time of solitude, she heard a very clear voice that seemed startlingly more real than any human voice. The voice said, ‘You are my beloved child; walk with me, and you will heal my people.’  “She felt flooded with a sense of well-being and peace and was powerfully moved to serve God. And yet…and here is a real nub of the matter….until the authors of this study had met with her, Marjorie Thomson wrote, she had never felt free to share her experience with anyone in her family or her church. She learned early on that people who hear ‘voices’ are considered mental cases. This woman did not know there was a framework from her faith tradition to help her interpret what had happened. She often doubted whether her experience was real because she could not imagine anyone accepting it as real.”

Apparently the same may be said of some religious leaders. Its seems that Pope Pius XII became seriously ill in 1954 and, at the height of his illness, he had a vision in which Jesus spoke to him. However, the Vatican chose to not disclose that revelation publicly until, almost a year later, when one of the Pope’s closet friends told reporter from Oggi magazine about it in a burst of what the friend called “affectionate indiscretion.” Think about that for a minute. If even the Pope feels reluctant to share a revelation he’s had, how could it be much different for the rest of us? And yet, I believe that many people do have legitimate experiences in which the reality of the spiritual world breaks through to them and is in some real way ’speaking’ to them

Not all of us have dramatic experiences of the holy such as those I just described, but that doesn’t mean that we have never heard the still, small voice of the Divine. But there is an important question here, namely to what degree do we include sharing the spiritual experiences that we do have with other people, especially others in the context of church community. When we do have spiritual experiences, whether they seem major and dramatic, or relatively minor, are we willing to share those experiences with one another….and especially, are we willing to tell other people in our own faith communitiesn about them, so that we can confirm our spiritual experience, and be increasingly alert to other experiences that might come our way in our future?” [

As we prepare, then, to keep making our way through this season of Lent, I want to invite us to reflect on a simple question: what are some of the times, places, events and experiences in which we have really felt and experienced and been moved by the power of God and the realness and power of the spirit in our lives. When have we felt and found God in our lives? Where have you found God in your life? It might be or may have been in a major ‘religious experience’ that happened to you only once; or maybe more than once; or maybe a long time ago; or maybe very recently. It might be something that has happened repetitively. Or, on the other hand, what comes to mind for you might be something not at all dramatic, something simple, like standing in awe at the opening of a flower, or seeing the face of a new-born child, or being brought to tears by an exquisite piece of music or a powerful painting. Where have we found God in our lives? Where have you found God in your life? And if such an experience, or such a time comes to mind, one thing you may want to monitor within yourself is…..how often or how rarely have you brought that experience out into the context of your faith community? How much or how little do you share the details of your faith experiences and faith journey with other people? I understand that there is an aspect of the spiritual life that can very private; but there is also great power in taking our gifts-and spiritual experiences are very much in the category of gifts of grace that have been given us-and sharing them with our fellow seekers.

As we have embarked now these weeks on this sacred season of Lent, my prayer and hope is that this would be a season in which our memory of the ways we’ve been touched by the spirit in the past, would also be a stimulus for a renewed sensing of God’s presence in our lives as we move into the future.

And we ask this today in the name of the Living Christ. Amen.

SERMON: A WINDOW NOT A WEAPON

2 21 10

LUKE 9:51-56

REV ANTHONY E ACHESON

Today’s story from Luke gives us an example of how Jesus handled the pain of rejection in his own life. This season of Lent that we came into this week, as well as the Holy Week that follows, attests to the fact that Jesus’ life had more than its share of ostracism and rejection in the fulfillment of his spiritual mission.

According to today’s story, Jesus had been in his home region of Galilee, located in northern Palestine of present-day Israel. When he sensed that the time had come to fulfill his destiny, he began his journey to Jerusalem, which is located in the southern portion of Palestine called Judea. Right in between the Jews who lived in Galilee up north, and those who lived in Judea, in the south, there was a region called Samaria, populated by people who both despised and were despised by the Jews of Jesus’ day. The Samaritans had become what traditional Jews considered half-breeds because they had inter-married with the native Canaanites during the years that so many of the Hebrews had been in exile. This hostility between Jews and Samaritans was fueled partly by this mixed ancestry, and also by the idea [again from the point of view of the more traditional Judaism] that the Samaritans had strayed from the true way by formulating their own religion, which was a mixture of Judaism and other local practices. The antagonism between the two groups was so deep that they would have little to do with each other. They wouldn’t eat with each other. In some cases they refused to even touch anything that someone from the other group had touched. The breach between Jew and Samaritan was so acute that when the Jews in the north wanted to get to Jerusalem, they would take a circuitous route east of the Jordan River, causing them to travel miles out of their way in their efforts to avoid their rivals in Samaria.

In today’s story, instead of taking the usual long route to avoid the Samaritans, Jesus took the direct route through Samaria. There is a powerful message in that. His approach was to be direct. He wasn’t in the business of sidesteppingt things. Once he made the decision to go, he went straight for it; he went there wholeheartedly. He was not interested in avoidance. You might say he was avoiding avoidance.

Before he left Galilee, Jesus had sent his disciples ahead to a Samaritan village to secure an overnight rest stop. Verse 53 tells us that the Samaritans did not receive him because his face was set to Jerusalem. They appear to have rejected him and his group because the Samaritans resented Jews passing that way.

This brings us to the real nub of the story. James and John, two of Jesus’ closest disciples, became incensed when they saw the way Jesus was treated, and wanted to strike back against the Samaritans. In their anger they said, ‘Lord, do you want us to call for fire to come down from heaven and burn up the village?’ James and John were not choosing that image of sky-fire at random. In Jesus’ day, most of his hearers would have known immediately that this was an allusion  to the book of Second Kings in the Old Testament. In the first chapter of that book the prophet Elijah had called down fire from heaven not once, but twice, to destroy soldiers of King Ahaziah [who happen to be referred to derisively in that passage as, 'the King of Samaria.'] So, James and John request almost certainly has that story in mind what they ask Jesus, ‘Shall we kill these people just as Elijah killed some Samaritans of an earlier day?’ But instead of rebuking the Samaritans, it is has own disciples themselves that Jesus rebukes. He was much less interested in dealing with any external enemy, than with the attitude of enmity itself, as it existed within his own followers.

It is worth noting and emphasizing that James and John based their request to annihilate the Samaritans on their interpretation of the Bible. Jesus, however, was quick to redirect their thinking, because as it turns out, they were making two foundational mistakes. And it is also worth noting and emphasizing that both of those mistakes are still common today. The first was that they took the Elijah story literally. As we read Second Kings 1 today it is clear to most of us, certainly in our tradition at least, that that account of Elijah calling down fire from heaven is not literal history. Rather, it is an ancient legend of a genre common to mid-east literature of 2 to 3 thousand years ago. If we came upon such a story in the Iliad or Odyssey, it would never even occur to us to ask if it ‘actually happened’ as literal history. Nor should that question concern us when we read writings from the same era in the Bible. To acknowledge that there is a spectrum of literary genres in the Bible does not reduce its value. It enhances its value. And it helps us value it more, by letting it speak to us in its own authentic first century B.C.E. voice.

The second mistake made by James and John, which I would view as an even more serious mistake, was that what they were doing was viewing the Bible as a weapon against wrong rather than as a window into truth. They wanted to use Scripture as a way to change other people through the power of coercion, including killing, rather than change their own selves through the power of, first, greater self-awareness and, second, greater kindness. Because their use of the Bible was both literal and hard-hearted, they ended up blocking themselves from an authentic discernment of what the Spirit of God is truly about.

The words we find in the Bible can indeed be profoundly life-giving. Most of us in this room know that. But they can also be misleading and dangerous depending on how they are used, And this is why how we interpret what we find in the Bible to be so crucial. There are words found in the Bible that have given religious folk justifications for the cruelties of slavery in this country over many tragic decades. There are words found in the Bible that gave religious folk justifications for suppressing women for centuries, forcing them to be regarded as mere appendages and properties of men. There are words found in the Bible that have given some religious folk recently and even today justifications for engaging in crusade-like behavior against major segments of the Muslim world, or against people who have a divergent sexual orientation here at home.

James and John knew that Biblical story in which Elijah called for fire from heaven upon his enemies, and they wanted to use that story to justify their own hostility. But what Jesus did was to model for them an approach that was divergent and different. In contrast to James and John, Jesus did a remarkable thing in that he did not retaliate against those who had rejected him. He did not even argue with those who refused him. He certainly did not will their destruction. Jesus did a remarkable thing in regard to those who had rejected him. He did nothing. But in that nothing of Jesus, there is a great deal of something. Because when we’re being rejected in life, it takes far greater and deeper strength to hold our peace than it takes to strike back in anger, or vengeance. When it came to those who rejected him, what Jesus did in response was precisely nothing.

If you or I are ever tempted to reject anyone because of a group or category to which we may habitually assign them, we would be wise to remind ourselves to give every person who comes across our path a chance to show forth who he or she really is apart from how we may conceptualize whatever group they belong to. The more we are able to do that the more we might discover some valuable things. We might discover that not all conservatives not all hard-hearted. We might discover that not all liberals are well-meaning but impractical. We might discover that white Southerners are not all rednecks; that socialists are not necessarily communist; that capitalists are not all greedy. We might discover that Muslims are not all terrorists; that Americans are not all arrogant; that Israelis are not necessarily Zionist or oppressive. We might discover that people who are pro-choice are not necessarily pro-abortion. We might discover that people who believe in intelligent design are not necessarily unintelligent.

If only the Samaritans in this village had given Jesus a chance to be evaluated according to the merits of his own character. If only those Samaritans had given Jesus a chance to reveal his profoundly overflowing compassion, share his love, offer his peace. But, instead, that village summarily rejected him. In response to this rejection, Jesus did and said nothing harsh. But there is another sense, of course, in which, Jesus did everything, because he simply kept on moving forward; he kept on living his life, and fulfilling his destiny and responsibilities. Because, as it says in verse 56, Jesus and his disciples just went to another village and then went on to Jerusalem and on eventually to Good Friday and Easter to Calvary by way of another route. Even in the face of his rejection, Jesus finds another way to offer his life for his detractors.

May the spirit of Divine wisdom allow us to find in our own times of being rejected, and indeed even in our own times of rejecting others, creative ways to grow into the more loving beings we were intended to be as shown to us by the model and example of Jesus.

This we pray and ask in the name of the living and ever-present Christ. Amen.