voice of Jesus

The Risen Christ Says Yes

John 20:1-18 (The Message)

Early in the morning on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone was moved away from the entrance. She ran at once to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one Jesus loved, breathlessly panting, “They took the Master from the tomb. We don’t know where they’ve put him.”

Peter and the other disciple left immediately for the tomb. They ran, neck and neck. The other disciple got to the tomb first, outrunning Peter. Stooping to look in, he saw the pieces of linen cloth lying there, but he didn’t go in. Simon Peter arrived after him, entered the tomb, observed the linen cloths lying there, and the kerchief used to cover his head not lying with the linen cloths but separate, neatly folded by itself. Then the other disciple, the one who had gotten there first, went into the tomb, took one look at the evidence, and believed. No one yet knew from the Scripture that he had to rise from the dead. The disciples then went back home.

But Mary stood outside the tomb weeping. As she wept, she knelt to look into the tomb and saw two angels sitting there, dressed in white, one at the head, the other at the foot of where Jesus’ body had been laid. They said to her, “Woman, why do you weep?”

“They took my Master,” she said, “and I don’t know where they put him.” After she said this, she turned away and saw Jesus standing there. But she didn’t recognize him.

Jesus spoke to her, “Woman, why do you weep? Who are you looking for?”

She, thinking that he was the gardener, said, “Mister, if you took him, tell me where you put him so I can care for him.”

Jesus said, “Mary.”

Turning to face him, she said in Hebrew, “Rabboni!” meaning “Teacher!”

Jesus said, “Don’t cling to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go to my brothers and tell them, ‘I ascend to my Father and your Father, my God and your God.’”

Mary Magdalene went, telling the news to the disciples: “I saw the Master!” And she told them everything he said to her.


Grace, peace, and mercy to you from God our Father, from our Lord and Savior Jesus the Christ, and the Holy Spirit who unites us in faith. Amen.

A common principle in mysticism and spiritual teaching across religions is that you cannot truly see or understand anything if you begin with a no.

We see only what we choose to see, consciously or subconsciously. We can’t say yes to everything; after all; there is simply too much stuff in the world for us to absorb and comprehend it all. Saying no is our brain’s way to avoid overstimulation. Think of it like a camera lens. When there is too much light on the subject that you are shooting with a camera, the lens aperture must restrict. So too, our brains restrict the input of our senses to allow only that which we already think we know, expect, and understand.

Any posture of humility must begin with an awareness that things exist even if we don’t see, know, expect, or understand them. If we are closed off to new possibilities, insights, or realities, we are no different than the baby boy who is confident his father is really gone when his face disappears behind his hands during a game of peek-a-boo.

“We see what we are ready to see, expect to see, and even desire to see. If we start with no, we usually get some form of no in return. If we start with yes, we are much more likely to get a yes back. Once we have learned how to say a fundamental yes, later no’s can be very helpful and are surely necessary. However, beginning with yes is the foundation of mature nonviolence and compassionate action. The Risen Christ is a great big yes to everything.”*

In the resurrection account from the gospel of John, we see Mary Magdalene, Peter, and the beloved disciple all respond to Christ’s resurrection from a position of no. Mary sees the empty tomb and the only logical reason she can imagine is that Jesus’ body was moved by someone else. Despite Jesus’ repeated announcements that he would die and rise after three days, Mary’s brain could not even begin to entertain the idea that what Jesus had said was even a possibility. Likely she and the disciples hadn’t heard him say this at all – their spiritual aperture was too restricted to let that in.

Peter and the beloved disciple ran to the tomb to witness its emptiness and John says the beloved disciple “went in, and he saw and believed” (John 20:8). Believed what? That Jesus was raised from the dead? No, because the scripture continues, “for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead (John 20:9). The beloved disciple’s belief is not in the good news of the resurrection; rather, he believes that Mary wasn’t lying…Jesus’ body is in fact, gone. That is the extent of the bewildering scenario that he can process because he “did not understand.”

The great good news is that the Christ’s yes is able to break through their nos. No amount of denial or unbelief from the disciples would be able to negate the truth of Christ’s resurrection. Christ didn’t postpone his resurrection until people believed. Christ was and will forever be resurrected, regardless of whether our response to this good news is yes or no.

Despite starting with a no, something in the deepest depths of Mary’s mind wouldn’t let her walk away from the mystery of the empty tomb. Her spiritual aperture was opened just wide enough to allow one word from the gardener into her heart. “Mary,” he said. And with that one word her no became a yes.

It wasn’t just any word…it was her name. Not a judgy, dismissive, or frustrated use of her name; rather it was her name wrapped in the vocal inflection of loving invitation. Anytime someone who loves you utters your name, it is an invitation to deeper and more intimate relationship.

Have you ever lovingly uttered the name of someone whose posture is no instead of yes? It’s terribly difficult, but when it’s wrapped in the language of loving invitation, it is absolutely disarming.

On my best days as a parent this is how I respond when my kids’ behavior requires intervention. If they’re acting up, I have much more success in reaching them with a loving, calm, and inviting uttering of their names. When their emotions and volume increase, I find it best to respond with calm and quiet; invitation, never exclusion.

Of course, not all of my days are my best days as a parent. Sometimes I respond to their no with a louder and more demonstrative no of my own. However, I can’t remember a time when I responded that way and thought to myself, “Well done. That took a lot of courage to stand up to a 7 year old like that…you sure put him in his place. I’m sure he has newfound love and appreciation for you after that.”

Invitation over exclusion. Holding open over closing. Yes over no. Life over death. All of this can be communicated to someone simply in the way you say their name.

Perhaps on this Easter Sunday that is awash in the promise of new life, you are being invited to say someone’s name in a new, more open and inviting way.

Perhaps on this Easter Sunday that is awash in the promise of new life, you are being invited to hear God calling to you in a new, more open and inviting way – a way that can turn your no into a yes.

Your yes will open your aperture will be opened to allow the fullness of God’s glory to make its way into your heart and mind. Once we have learned how to say yes to the God of unconditional love we will start to see it everywhere.

Remember, the Risen Christ is a great big yes to everything.

And so we respond with the Hebrew word for yes: Amen.

* Richard Rohr, Daily Meditations, “Beginning with Yes.” August 12, 2016

"We Are Not The Gate" – John 10:1-10

Three keys to the effective use of metaphors in language is to keep them simple, not read too much into them, and not layer metaphors on top of one another. Or else you end up with sayings like these:
“He’s not the sharpest bulb in the box”
“She’s a wolf in cheap clothing”
“You could have knocked me over with a fender”
“I can read him like the back of my book”
or my favorite, “These hemorrhoids are a real pain in the neck”

The metaphors found in the Gospel of John are not quite as funny as these, but they are every bit as confusing. In the span of just a few verses an elaborate picture is painted involving sheep, a shepherd, a gatekeeper, a gate, and thieves and bandits. Unfortunately, it’s not immediately clear just what exactly this illustration is trying to convey.

There are some epic metaphorical “I am” statements in John’s gospel, such as:
“I am the bread of life”
“I am the light of the world”
“I am the resurrection and the life”
“I am the way, the truth, and the life”
“I am the true vine”
and, “I am the good shepherd”

Most of us are probably familiar with the metaphor of Jesus as the Good Shepherd. The image of a shepherd was common to that time and its repeated use throughout the Hebrew Scriptures almost always referred to a king. We can wrap our minds around the idea of Jesus as a shepherd – someone who guides us, leads us, battles enemies on our behalf, keeps us from running off (or goes after us when we do run off, picking us up in his strong arms and carrying us back to the flock). A preacher can do a lot with the image of Jesus as a shepherd. Unfortunately, in the verses before us today, Jesus doesn’t identify himself as the shepherd (that comes a few verses later). Instead, we hear of one of Jesus’ lesser known “I am” statements – “I am the gate.”

At first glance, this metaphor is the least impressive of the other options. Surely Jesus would not have chosen to include this moniker on his business cards. Not only is it odd-sounding, but it’s confusing. Jesus identifies as both the shepherd and the gate. So we return to verse 2, which reads as follows, “The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep.” So its apparent meaning is, “I enter by myself and I am me.” Or, in the immortal words of Popeye, “I yam who I yam.”

Clear as mud, right?

This metaphor only started making sense to me when I looked at it from a different angle. If Jesus is the gate, that means that we are not the gate. This, I think, is the heart of Jesus’ argument especially in light of the context of the story. His awkward metaphor is directed to the Pharisees, immediately after the episode where Jesus restored the sight of a blind man. Upholding the religious understanding of the time, the Pharisees had argued that the man was blind because of some great sin and that he did not deserve to be healed. If it were up to the Pharisees they would have shut the gate on the blind man. The Pharisees also argued that Jesus had no right to heal the blind man because it was a sabbath day. If it were up to the Pharisees they would have shut the gate on Jesus.

For the Pharisees, seeing a man born blind (which they believed was a punishment for some sin) have his sight restored was inconceivable and against every religious impulse in their body. For the Pharisees, seeing a miraculous event take place on a religiously-mandated day of rest was inconceivable and against every religious impulse in their body. But, as Jesus points out, the reason they thought such miracles inconceivable and against every religious impulse in their body was because they, in fact, were the ones who were blind. Jesus not only accuses them of being blind, but also refers to them as thieves and bandits.

I don’t mean to portray the Pharisees as irrational and unsympathetic villains. Their impulse to shut the gate when they felt threatened is a common impulse we share. If we were to witness an event that went against every religious impulse we had, we would close ranks, become hostile, make sharp distinctions between “us” and “them” and shut the gate in an effort for self-preservation. Unfortunately, this is not a hypothetical situation. In fact, many of you are here today because you experienced this closing of the ranks and gate-shutting in other churches when they felt that their religious or political sensibilities were being threatened. And, truth be told, many of us are the ones who have shut the gates on others.

Into such an environment as this, Jesus boldly declares, “I am the gate.”

We are not the gate. Remember this next time you are tempted to hold someone at arm’s length, next time you are tempted to label someone as unworthy, hopeless, lost, or sinful. We are not the gate. Remember this next time someone holds you at arm’s length, next time someone labels you as unworthy, hopeless, lost, or sinful. We are not the gate.

Is this an excuse to not take a stand on any issue? Are you going to go home and say that your new pastor is advocating for complete tolerance of all behavior, no matter how vile, and that there is never an appropriate time to keep someone or something out? Absolutely not. As the saying goes, “If you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for anything.”

But the next time your religious or political or emotional sensibilities feel threatened, listen to the voices vying for your attention. The voice telling you to shut the gate will sound remarkably like your own because it will be the sound of your own fear echoing back at you. But if you manage to stay calm and keep listening you will hear a voice remarkably different from your own; a voice cutting through the clatter like a clarion call. It will be the voice of Jesus, a voice you will know because you are his sheep. And the voice of Jesus will invite you to participate in the abundant life Jesus alone can provide.

Amen.