photo credit: Annie Spratt (https://unsplash.com/@anniespratt)

John 8:31-36 (NRSV)

Then Jesus said to the Jews who had believed in him, "If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples; and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free." They answered him, "We are descendants of Abraham and have never been slaves to anyone. What do you mean by saying, "You will be made free'?" Jesus answered them, "Very truly, I tell you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin. The slave does not have a permanent place in the household; the son has a place there forever. So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.

The task for all Christ-followers this morning, regardless of the location of their churches or the denominational label, is to condemn, mourn, confess, and reform.

Yesterday the world learned the horrifying news that a gunman entered the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburg, PA and murdered eleven human beings while they were worshiping the Lord. The attack is believed to be the deadliest on the Jewish community in US history. I, as a representative of Cross of Grace, condemn this violence; I also condemn the sin of anti-semitism and white nationalism that appears to have motivated the man whom has been charged with these hate crimes.

This news leaves us feeling sad, embarrassed, ashamed, and frightened. As a word of pastoral care, pay attention to your emotions in the wake of these deplorable acts of violence. Sit with them. Let them make you feel uncomfortable, vulnerable, and hurt. This is the process of mourning. The primary way for us to honor the victims of this senseless tragedy is by mourning the loss of their lives.

Let us never become numb to the devastating acts of violence in our world. When we close our eyes, ears, hearts, and hands to the pain around us we are not creating a new peaceful reality; instead, we are contributing to the spread of injustice. Sins of omission – that is, sins of not paying attention, not acting, not choosing to be an active peacemaker – are just as offensive to God and just as destructive to our world as are acts of violence.

We are sinners. Sin, rightly understood, is the soul turned in on itself. Our thoughts, emotions, and actions often fail to correspond to the reality that the Kingdom of Heaven is here and now, that God is present here and now, that there is a divine ordering of the world that lifts up the lowly and the humble of heart. The reality is that God’s gifts of love, grace, peace, hope, and love absolutely permeate this world; but our gaze and attention is so inwardly turned that we miss all the opportunities to dwell in those perfect gifts.

Instead of living as citizens of the Kingdom of Heaven, we put ourselves in charge of our own domains. We prioritize our own needs and desires over our neighbors. We let fear keep us from loving. We let fear of others drive us to think of others as less than human and unworthy of love, respect, and protection. God sets a feast before us and we bar the doors after we get inside so that none of those other people can get in and ruin our delightful evening.

The antidote to sin is repentance. Repentance, rightly understood, is changing one’s mind. The changing of a mind is a laborious and lengthy process that is largely out of our control. Fortunately, we worship the God who lavishes us with gifts. One particular gift is the Holy Spirit – the person of the Trinity who works on our head and our heart day and night…softening it, shaping it, making it ready to receive the truth of our forgiveness and ready to receive the invitation to live according to the Kingdom of Heaven.

Repentance – changing one’s mind – bears fruit and shows up in the way we live our daily lives. This is what is known as discipleship; but for our purposes today we can call it reformation.

Today we, like our Jewish brothers and sisters in Pittsburg yesterday, gather to worship the Lord. We gather to worship the Lord on a day we set aside each year to commemorate our denomination’s roots in the Great Reformation of the 16th century. We gather to worship the Lord bearing the inescapable reality that we are a church descended and evolved from the teachings of a theologian whose anti-semitic sentiments are well-documented.

Our church denomination, the ELCA, has committed itself to reforming this haunting aspect of our past. In 1994 the ELCA researched, wrote, and published a statement called the “Declaration of the ELCA to the Jewish Community.” Included in the text were these words:

“We recognize in anti-Semitism a contradiction and affront to the Gospel, a violation of our hope and calling, and we pledge this church to oppose the deadly working of such bigotry, both within our own circles and in the society around us.”

Reformation is an ongoing task; a daily turning toward God. The 1994 ELCA statement did not solve the problem of anti-semitism nor did it erase it from our collective past. Rather, it points us to a truth that guides our everyday actions and attitudes.

Our task today, along with all who profess to worship and follow Christ, are to condemn, mourn, confess, and reform. Reformation comes at the Holy Spirit’s prompting. Reformation comes by doing the hard work of analyzing our heart and mind. Reformation comes by striving to be God’s hands and feet in the world. Reformation comes only by the grace of God who sets us free from the slavery of sin and sets us on the path of righteousness and eternal union with the Lord.

Amen.

John 6:56-69

[Jesus said,] “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them. Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live forever.” He said these things while he was teaching in the synagogue at Capernaum.

When many of his disciples heard it, they said, “This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?” But Jesus, being aware that his disciples were complaining about it, said to them, “Does this offend you? Then what if you were to see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before? It is the spirit that gives life; the flesh is useless. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life. But among you there are some who do not believe.” For Jesus knew from the first who were the ones that did not believe, and who was the one that would betray him. And he said, “For this reason I have told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted by the Father.”

Because of this, many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him. So Jesus asked the twelve, “Do you also wish to go away?” Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”

If you’ve been around Cross of Grace for worship the last several weeks – or in any Christian church that follows the lectionary of scripture readings that guides our life together – it may be hard to believe we’re still talking about the Bread of Life. (We’re in it for week five at this point, but who’s counting!?)

But remember with me that, though this might seem like OLD good news to many of us, what we’ve been hearing and learning from Jesus was very much NEW ground for those who were learning to follow him, back in the day. And today is no different.

Jesus is teaching in the synagogue at Capernaum, about what it means that he had come down from heaven as bread for the sake of the world. We have to remind ourselves, as 21st Century Christians – Sunday morning quarterbacks, in all of this, if you will – that the symbolism and imagery and teaching here, aren’t that much of a stretch for us. We will share communion this morning – eating bread and drinking wine – just like we did last week, and the week before that; and just like we’ll do next week and the week after that, and so on.

So, we are down with Jesus as the Bread of Life. We get this Bread from Heaven stuff, which fills us with forgiveness and grace and the promised redemption and resurrection of our souls on the other side of God’s heaven, and all the rest. This, too, may sound like OLD good news to us.

But put yourself into that synagogue in Capernaum as a faithful Jewish man, woman or child, and hear these words from Jesus, about eating his flesh and drinking his blood, and comparing it all to your ancestors even further back in the day who were lost and wandering around in the desert, but who God saved with bread that came down from heaven in the form of manna in the wilderness – very real food from heaven that saved their lives – right where they were; right when they needed it most.

The people listening to Jesus didn’t have the luxury or the understanding of the sacramental, Sunday morning quarterback’s perspective with which we are blessed. Never mind the audacity and arrogance and blasphemy of claiming to have ‘come down from heaven’ … when they heard Jesus invite them to eat his flesh and drink his blood, he may have sounded more like a First Century Hannibal “The Cannibal” Lecter, than any kind of Messiah – or Son of God – or Savior of the world.

And it was too much to bear, for many of them. They couldn’t abide. They didn’t understand. This was crazy talk. They couldn’t swallow it – they wouldn’t swallow it – this bread from heaven, this flesh and blood, Jesus was promising could change everything. So they turned back and refused to follow him any further. And, understanding their perspective, it’s hard to blame them, really. Don’t you think?

Some of you know that a group of us has been studying a book the last few weeks, called UnClobber, by a pastor and theologian named Colby Martin. It’s about a new, different way to understand the place of homosexuality in Scripture. It’s about re-evaluating the traditional theology that condemns lesbian, gay, bi-sexual, transgender, and queer people. It involves studying the historical, sociological, cultural context of Scripture, along with the language and translation of relevant passages, in a way that takes the sting out of the handful of Scriptures that, for so long, have been used to shame, judge, convict, and condemn LGBTQ children of God. Ultimately, our time together – I hope – is about learning to love, not just tolerate, our LGBT and Q brothers and sisters, in a new, faithful way.

As many of you know, this is a harder thing to grasp for some of us than it is for others. We made a commitment, at the beginning of our time together, to be “curious” about what we would read and discuss, rather than “furious” about whatever might come of it.

Now, the class and its teaching hasn’t been all that new or challenging for everyone around the table. But it is new and it has been challenging for others. There are some in the group who have been doing some heavy lifting, some faithful wrestling, some hard work with all of this. And that has been quite inspiring to be part of, from my perspective.

But the truth is, that it’s been too hard and too heavy for a few – particularly some guests who had never been to Cross of Grace for anything before this study. At least one person bought the book with good intentions of joining the class, but never showed up. Another person gave up on it all after only our second gathering.

They didn’t buy it, I guess. They can’t believe it, I suppose. They won’t swallow it, if you will; this new kind of bread that’s different from anything they’ve ever tasted or believed before. They’ve decided, as far as I can tell, something like what those first century folks said to Jesus, “This teaching is difficult. Who can accept it?”

And I’m working to honor my end of the bargain to not be furious about that. I can’t help but be curious about what more or better or different could be said or done to convince them otherwise. And I’m mostly frustrated and sad, too, that I wasn’t able to break through the hard crust of that old bread I feel they’re still clinging to, still chewing on, still choking down, and still passing around, out there in the world.

Because the bottom line for me is that the good news of Jesus – the bread of life that has come down from heaven for the sake of the world – is almost too good to be true. There are times and places and people for whom my own preconceived notions and prejudices make all of this grace stuff too difficult to buy or believe. How can this grace be for him? Is it possible for them to be forgiven? Will there be mercy and redemption, even, for so and so? (Each of us can fill in those blanks, I believe.)

I feel myself saying, to Jesus, “This teaching is too difficult. Who can accept it?”

And then I hear Jesus responding, just like he said to those first followers, “Does this offend you?” “Is my grace too big for you?” “Is my love too wide… my mercy too mighty… my forgiveness too abundant?” And I hear him saying, something else, too, like he also said to those first followers, “You ain’t seen nothing yet.” “Wait until you see me raised from the dead, the Son of Man ascending to where he was before – conquering death, vanquishing sin, redeeming, saving, feeding the world with this bread of life that’s come down from heaven.”

See, this is about more than learning to understand Scripture differently around the hot-button issue of the day – or even having to agree about all of that at every turn. This is about any time we feel God trying to do a new thing in …or for …or through our lives. This is about all the times we wonder if God is big enough to forgive that sin; to comfort that grief; to do that justice; to love that mightily; to merit this kind of hope.

And it’s the story of our faith – that even when we can’t, God does. Even when we won’t God will. Even when we refuse, God has already. So we keep trying. We struggle with the heavy lifting. We wrestle with this grace we’re called to receive and to share. And we are patient with ourselves and with others when any one of us can’t or won’t or doesn’t.

And then we return to the table, together, I hope – to the one who has the words and the way to eternal life. And we eat – with humility and joy – this bread of life, that’s come down from heaven. We eat this bread of life and we are better for it. We eat this bread of life and we share it with the world until all are fed with the same grace and mercy, the same love and forgiveness, the same hope that is ours when we do.

Amen

Condemn, Mourn, Confess, and Reform

Hard to Swallow