What are You Afraid of?

WESTMINSTER PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
March 30th 2008
Easter Season
Rev. Mark R. Bradshaw-Miller
“Faith without Fear”
John 20:19-31

Of what are you afraid? Fear is instinctual and it is a powerful motivator. After all, there are many things which bring about fear. Some of the larger fears today are things like: Global warming, failed banks, falling housing prices, recession, increased violence in Iraq and Afghanistan. On a local level there is fear of rising waters, crime in our neighborhoods, personal health concerns, and even the future of our own community. Because of the many real fears in our lives when the peddlers of fear come knocking on our door it is easy to be wound up, caught up, and even act up out of our fears.
Acting from the places of our fears actually puts us in good company. On the first Easter, after hearing Mary Magdalene proclaim: “I have seen the Lord,” the disciples choose to hide out in a locked room. They act out of fear. Despite the testimony of Mary, the disciples do not go out and share the story. Instead, they run and hide.
In the text, it says that the disciples hide because they fear the Jews. This does not mean they feared all Jewish people. After all, the disciples were Jewish. Instead, it was a reference to the religious leadership which had colluded with Rome to protect their power. Their fear was real and justified given the religious leadership willingness to work with the occupiers of their homeland.
The actions of the religious leaders stand in stark contrast to Jesus. It was the religious leadership who warned that Jesus was a dangerous radical that needed to be sacrificed for the good of all. It was the religious leadership who used the very real fears about Rome to insure their place in the power structure. But when Jesus shows up in the presence of the disciples he simply says: “Peace be with you.”
Instead of standing with the peddlers of fear, Jesus does not knock on the door, he simply enters. His words of peace are followed with a concrete symbol of hope in an unsettling time. Jesus shows the disciples his scars. Sharing his scars gives credibility to his words at a time when it is desperately needed. The words of Thomas show how needed they were. After hearing Mary’s witness: “I have seen the Lord!” and the witness of the other disciples: “We have see the Lord!” all Thomas can muster is: until I can put my hands in his side and finger in the holes I will not believe.
Jesus’ responds to Thomas’ skeptical voice is a message for the disciples in all ages. The resurrection appearances in John are meant to teach the church how to live as disciples following the resurrection. In other words, that includes us. Jesus encounter with Thomas shows us how to engage the voices of Thomas in ourselves and in the world today.
Jesus begins both encounters by sharing his scars. But we don’t have the resurrected body of Jesus around to touch. So, what are we to do? I believe this passage teaches the community that part of our practice is that of sharing our scars.
It is no accident that after the resurrection Jesus still bears the scars of the cross. Jesus may live again but the wounds of his life do not disappear. Likewise, we who follow Jesus cannot expect that the scars we bear will disappear. In fact, it is often the broken places of our lives which have brought us to faith or to deeper faith. The scars remind us that while healing may come that our lives will never go back to the way things were. But the good news is that we do not remain broken.
Some of the scars in our lives are visible while others, more often than not, are buried behind a smile. I believe that Jesus’ showing of his scars to the community and to Thomas is an action meant to teach the community of followers an important lesson. That lesson is this: A community of faith which hides or ignores the scars is not a healthy and authentic community of Jesus’ followers. It is a bold statement but I believe it is in our scars that we learn some of life’s most important lessons. In Jesus’ scars the disciples have a visible reminder of the pain, hurt, and tears. But those scars also remind us that the pain, hurt, and tears do not have the last word. When we share our scars, the places of healing in our lives and community, we become living witnesses to the healing and new life possible in Jesus.
When Jesus shows up, preaching peace and showing scars the implications are clear for the community of faith. At the heart of the Easter story is the simple message that there is no room for fear in our faith. Fear is toxic to the community of faith. Acting out of fear will lead the people of faith to lock themselves behind closed doors and forces smiles. Acting out of fear will close us in ourselves instead of being a community where people who proclaim as living and yes even scarred, witnesses saying: “We have seen the Lord.”
At this table we proclaim a message of healing and hope. It is a credible remembrance because it remembers the pain and the suffering which lead to the resurrection. We are formed into the people of God through acts like communion. At this gathering, we are reminded that the hope we have in Jesus is not a cheap hope but a hope forged in the pain and death of the resurrection. Peace, not fear is the message of our faith. This is the calling of our faith. This is the calling of our lives. Amen.

The Peril of Palms

WESTMINSTER PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
March 16th 2008
Palm Sunday
Rev. Mark R. Bradshaw-Miller
“The Peril of Palms”
Psalm 118: 1-2, 19-29; Matthew 21:1-11

Palm Sunday is a day which makes me a little uneasy. This day of joyous songs, waving branches and shouts of hosanna can overshadowed the tragic events of the week. After all, at the end of the week Jesus is betrayed, arrested, tortured and executed by the Roman governor. If we are not careful the joy of Palm Sunday will lead directly to the joy of Easter without noticing the violence and death which precedes the resurrection. Palm Sunday is not merely an opportunity to wave palms, shot hosanna and proclaim Jesus king. It is the day that invites us, in our celebration, to follow the way of Jesus. It is the way of Jesus that rejects the ways of empire and the ways of violence which leads to the cross. The peril of the palms is that we risk missing the invitation to follow this journey in the midst of the celebration.
In order to understand what happens at the end of the week we need to look closely at the procession that took place on that first Palm Sunday. The meanings and implication of the day are often obscured in our modern celebrations. But the truth is that the procession dangerous act which had political, as well as religious, implications. In a book by Marcus J. Borg and John Dominic Crossan called: The Last Week: What the Gospel’s Really Teach about Jesus’ Final Days in Jerusalem, this is made clear. This begins to make more sense once they explaining that Jesus’ procession were not the only one which occurred. They write:
Two processions entered Jerusalem on that day. The same question, the same alternative, faces those who would be faithful to Jesus today. Which procession are we in? Which procession do we want to be in? This is the question of Palm Sunday and of the week that is about to unfold.
We know a great deal about the procession of Jesus that included his followers and other admirers. Jesus rides down from the Mount of Olives on a donkey as branches are laid in front of him and the people yell: “Hosanna.” It is no accident this event looks like a scene from the prophet Zechariah. The intended similarity is meant to be a proclamation that Jesus stands in the prophetic tradition and claims the mantle of the peaceful king who rejects the ways of war and violence. This scene is God’s rejection of the ways of violence through the witness of Jesus.
The second, or other, procession looks nothing like the one we know well. As Jesus enters from the east side of Jerusalem, Pontius Pilate enters from the west. And his entry is anything but humble. The contrast between the processions is amazing. Pilate’s procession into the city is an imperial show meant to terrify the population. At Passover, Rome wanted to make sure that everyone would know who had the power. To insure that this Passover celebration would not get out of hand, the imperial cavalry and soldiers were part of the procession. It was a massive show of force meant to show that the order of the empire would be maintained at any cost. This other procession on the other side of Jerusalem expressed a belief in gods who ordained the ways of violence and empire.
Both these processions sent a message about their belief in God. Both processions proclaimed a divine mandate and claimed ultimate authority on heaven and on earth. But, these processions were radically different in their approaches to peace. The empire of Rome used violence to ensure the Pax Romana or the Peace of Rome. Peace for the empire of Rome came through war. But in the life and witness of Jesus we learn that the kingdom of God rejects the ways of violence, on earth just as it is in heaven.
If you are anything like the group which gathered over the last six weeks to study the book, The Last Week, the idea of two processions and their contrast is rather new. During our discussion a question arose: “Why have we not heard this before?” But instead of venturing a guess on why we sought to answers another question: “Now that we know, what are we going to do?” Indeed, now we know that picking up palms and celebrating Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem means we have some decisions to make like: “Which procession do we want to be in?” And, “What will that mean for our own life of faith?”
Deciding to pick up the palms may put us in peril. Living in an age where ‘might makes right,’ can leave those seeking to reject violence as foolish. We know the ways of violence around the world and in our own backyard. Working to reject the ways of violence or even standing near the One who embodies this call is a risky affair. This is what the palms are all about. Now that we know the peril, I guess we have some decisions to make. Amen? Amen.

Can You Smell That?

WESTMINSTER PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
March 9th 2007

Rev. Mark R. Bradshaw-Miller
“Can You Smell That?”
Ezekiel 37:1-14; Psalm 130; Romans; 8:6-11; John 11:1-50

Outside the chapel at Columbia Seminary is a picture of a preacher. While that does not seem all that surprising what always grabbed my attention was the unique nature of this picture. The preacher’s face was distorted, his hand was outstretched, and all around his head and coming out of his mouth was one word repeated over and over. That one word was: “Words.” It was a picture that captured my frustration and expressed my feeling that on some days we are better about talking about our faith than living it out.
In our reading from the Gospel of John, Martha speaks some rather eloquent words. “I know that God will give you whatever you ask… I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day… Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.” However, because of her actions at the end of the passage, Martha’s words do not ring true. Despite Martha being the voice of orthodoxy her orthopraxy is heretical. When Jesus orders the stone removed from Lazarus’ tomb, it is only Martha who objects with these words: “Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead for four days.” It appears that Martha is the poster child for the mantra: “Talk is cheap.”
In contrast to Martha is the witness of Mary. When Jesus arrives on the scene Mary does not speak words of faith. She shares her pain at the loss of her brother and she tells Jesus her wish that he had come sooner. Mary says nothing about the resurrection or the Messiah business. She simply shares her pain with Jesus. However, we must be careful not to fall into the cliché of pitting Mary against Martha. After all, neither Mary nor Martha have a clue to what is about to happen. But this passage does provide a helpful foundation for us to take a few moments to talk about the power of words. It is, I believe, a timely topic.
Despite conventional wisdom words matter. Talk might be cheap but words have the power to transform the world. If we take our bible seriously this is a central tenet of our faith. It begins with Genesis when God speaks and the world is created. No matter where you are along the theological spectrum; from those who believe it is a precise account of the origin of the world to those who think the story is simply a fable, the truth of the passage remains the same. And that truth is this: We believe that words have the power to create, shape and even change the world.
This is not simply a theological assertion. History has shown us that when totalitarian governments consolidate their power the first people they seek to discredit and even destroy are the speakers of words. It is the intellectuals and the poets that are the threats. They are the ones who get labeled as the “enemy from within.” The totalitarian leaders know and understand that words have the power to change the world. As a result, for the order of the state, these people must be silenced. It is the words of these trouble-makers that let people know that another world is possible. And, totalitarian thinking cannot afford for people believing that change is possible.
The people of Israel were living in exile. Their nation was destroyed and they have been humiliated as a people. Hope had become a luxury they could not afford. Survival was the order of the day. Yet, it was in the midst of this desperate situation that God gives Ezekiel a vision of hope. The prophet is placed down in the middle of the remnants of genocide. Dried bones lined the large valley for as far as the eye could see. It is an overwhelming scene of death. It even appears that Ezekiel has doubts that God can bring life to this vision of death. God tells Ezekiel: Speak to these bones, use words, and life will return! To a people without hope, speak words of change because God is at work bringing life in the places of death. It is a vision that had, and has, the power to inspire and bring hope.
Those who hold positions of power understand the power of words. They understand the change that can come when people have hope. Caiaphas speaks with clarity to the leadership of Jerusalem: “You know nothing at all! You do not understand that it is better for you to have one man die for the people than to have the whole nation destroyed.” Caiaphas reminds everyone that Jesus teaches that there is an alternative to the ‘way things are.’ As a result, he is a threat to the established order and as such, Jesus would have to be sacrificed for national security.
As people of faith we must stand up and remind the world that no real change has ever occurred without words. It is true that mere talk is cheap. However, until someone speaks or writes that a new reality is possible nothing changes. In his life, Jesus speaks with integrity and authority. As a result, the people are willing to roll the stone away from Lazarus’ tomb even with the possibility of a nasty smell on the other side. When Jesus speaks Lazarus comes out of the tomb. And, when Jesus speaks the people unbind Lazarus from the cloths of death. Jesus speaks and the world is changed. As a people of the Word, we can never dismiss the power of words to change the world. The words of our faith imagine and proclaim that another way is possible here on earth, as it is in heaven. Amen? Amen.

Vampires of Despair

WESTMINSTER PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
March 2nd 2008
Communion Meditation
Rev. Mark R. Bradshaw-Miller
"The Vampires of Despair"
I Samuel 16:1-13; Ephesians 5:8-14; John 9:1-41

A title like, vampires of despair, simply begs the question: “What are the vampires of despair? Well, they are not a group of people or a physical being that we can drive a stake into like Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Instead, they are the beliefs and actions that attack the places of hope in our world. They are the places in our heads, or even the voices of our friends that lead us to choose doubt and cynicism over hope. Acting out of our vampire mode is a way of being that moves us to notice the crumbs on the floor and miss the life-giving community going on around us. It is a way of being that leads us to focus more on the difficulties and challenges of worshiping in the parlor rather than giving thanks for the deep intimacy that has been created by our worshiping in this place. Do not hear me wrong, I am not being Pollyanna. (And I am pretty sure most people would never confuse me with Pollyanna…) Instead, what I am saying is that when we spend all our energy on those sorts of things, we have lost sight of God’s vision for our community. Metaphorically, we have become blind to the new life being offered through Jesus. The beauty of this passage from the Gospel of John, is that it reminds us of that the new life will be messy, and it might just involve a little dirt and spit.
I am more convinced today that God is doing a new thing here at the corner of Union and Delmar. And, I believe that our energy should be focused on how best to catch up with this new reality. In order to do this, each one of us must become encouragers of this vision. Each one of us needs to be willing to confront the vampires in ourselves and in each other. And, each one of us needs to share in the messiness that may involve a little spit and dirt on the road to healing and wholeness. Part of this work is the letting go of the beliefs about what a church is supposed to look like. Instead, we are called to allow the spit and dirt to open our eyes to way of Jesus laid out for all his followers.
This way of being is a life-long journey that involves our whole selves. However, one thing it does not entail is the spending of our energy engaging the vampires of despair. Instead using the battle metaphors the most fruitful work is to follow the words of musician Michael Franti. In his song See You in the Light he calls us to simply bring the vampires into the light. No need for struggle, no fighting, just the work of being a bearer of light. In other words, we need to move into the light ourselves, and shine that light on the vampires in our head, in our lives, and in the world. In doing so we take the power from the vampires of despair who drain us of the hope, vision, and healing we have come to know in Jesus.
The Pharisees in this story are so bound by their beliefs and religious expectations that they are willing to fight and struggle, and use precious energy and recourses, in order to maintain the status quo. First, they go after the messenger who embodies the healing and vision. Who did this to you? Were you really blind? After challenging his credibility they move to his family. When they fail to do their vampire work, because they are incapable of embracing the vision, their last resort is to throw the healed one out of the community. A new vision, of healing and wholeness, is unwelcome if it challenges their well ordered world. Yet despite throwing this man out, they save their greatest wrath for Jesus. Jesus must be a sinner because he is calling for a new day, a new vision, a way of healing and wholeness that does not fit their well ordered world.
But, again, we must be careful to note that the vampires of despair can come from within as well as from without. One day we may act as children of light and the next day we are the very vampires of which we speak. Acknowledging this reality is an important and humbling step. The vampires of despair always act out of fear. Fear of loss, of change, of something or someone different than we expected. Or, fear that God might actually be serious with works like – “I do not judge by outward appearance” or “Act as children of light” Or even in the way that Jesus calls us to risk our favorite pet projects or well practiced vampire ways. So what then are we to do? We need to challenge one another to give up our vampire ways, wherever they arise. We need to be bearers of the light.
But I believe that the admonition to be children of light goes far beyond communal practice and personal action. I believe this calling to be children of light means we need to bring light to the vampire places in the wider world. Moving in this direction however moves us to confront the underside of human activity. I have come to believe that one of the most important issues of our day is what has happened in the places like Abu Ghraib, Guantanamo, and Bagrahm. When it all came to light, most of us had no clue that it was talking place. Or if we did, any thought of such things was tucked away in a safe place where we could ignore it. However, now that it is out into the light we cannot remain faithful if we ignore what we know. The pictures from Abu Ghraib prison showed us the fruits of a worldview nurtured in fear that unleashed the hounds of war without restraint. Those pictures and the many people working to bring this evil to light, in all its forms, threw spit and dirt in our eyes so that we could see with clarity the immorality being done in our name. It is not a comfortable place to be. Like the newly healed young man we too must go back and ask Jesus, well now what? What shall we do now that we know?
I want to attempt to deal with those questions by way of personal confession. You see, when the pictures came to light I was in no hurry to deal with those questions. I have drug my feet in dealing with one of the great moral issues of our time. When the pictures first showed, and the movement to end this horror started I was nowhere to be found. I did not want to deal with this because of the dark places of my own mind. The vampires of despair led me to ask: Well maybe it is necessary? Maybe they deserved it? Maybe this is just the way things work? Yes, I confess that I have thought those things and as a result I remained silent. So I stand here this morning to confess my own submission to the vampires of despair.
It is my prayer that in offering this public confession, that we all might be willing and able to ask these hard questions. It is my hope that this confession will allow us all to acknowledge the places where the vampires of despair are speaking to us and keeping us from faithful action in our own lives and in the world. But a calling to be bearers of light and hope, in other words, a life of faithful discipleship may lead us to an encounter with spit and dirt in our eyes, rejection from family and even other members of our shared faith. But the good news is that this encounter with dirt and spit is the path of Jesus. It is the way of new vision, of new life, of healing and of wholeness. Let us seek to be the bearers of light. Amen.