Acts 2:42-47; John 10:1-10
Easter Life
James Sledge May
3, 2020
Most
of you have likely seen news reports about churches that insist on having
in-person worship during this time of stay at home. I saw a newscast where a
reporter interviewed members as they drove away from one such worship service. A
woman said that she wasn’t worried about catching the virus because, “I’m
covered in the blood of Jesus.”
The
reporter asked her several more questions, and she seemed happy to talk with
him. But her answer to nearly every question ended, “I’m covered in the blood
of Jesus.”
If
you’re like me and didn’t grow up singing hymns such as “Nothing but the Blood
of Jesus” or “Precious, Precious Blood of Jesus,” you may not be familiar with
this graphic, formulaic notion of how Jesus’ death saves and protects people. But our own hymnal can also be formulaic, if
not so graphic. On Easter Sunday we sang, “But the pains which he endured… our
salvation have procured.”
I’m
not sure why religious formulas are so popular. A friend remarked about the
“tendency for faith to degrade into magic” when he shared a Washington Post article about a Virginia
pastor who died from COVID-19 despite his certainty that God would protect him.
I suppose that magic has a certain appeal over the difficulties, nuances, and
messiness of biblical faith. Believe this and you are saved. Say this and all
will be well. Abracadabra.
But
if Christian faith were formulas and magic, the Bible would be a pamphlet, not over
a thousand pages of stories, poems, letters, teachings, sayings, etc. Jesus
wouldn’t have spoken in parables and vivid metaphors. He would have just given
us the magic words. Abracadabra.
In
our gospel this morning, Jesus mixes his metaphors a bit. He speaks of himself
as the shepherd and as the gate for the sheep, and he says, “I
came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” Not surprisingly, some have tried to turn this
into formula. Believe in Jesus, and you’ll know abundance, cups running over, a
table spread with good things, a bank account running over as well. Such
magical thinking easily transfers to other areas. Believe in Jesus and you will
have health in abundance, too. No coronavirus for you.
I
suppose such formulaic thinking creeps into all religion here and there. Who
wouldn’t want God as a personal genie. But Jesus is no genie, and he offers no
magic formulas. Instead, he invites us to discover a new quality of life by
following the path he shows us.
I
wonder if our reading from Acts about the faith community that forms after
Pentecost isn’t talking about this new quality of life. All who believed were together and had all
things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute
the proceeds to all, as any had need. That’s not how the world usually
looks. This is so different, so generous, so idyllic, so amazing that many
scholars wonder if it every really happened.
In
that first Christian congregation, radical sharing and generosity ensure that
everyone has enough, although I don’t that I would call it “abundant life.” “Remarkable
life” or “extraordinary life” perhaps. Interestingly, when I dug out my Greek
lexicon and looked up the word in our gospel translated “abundantly,” the first
definition read, “extraordinary, remarkable, of that which is not usually
encountered among [people].” Now that sounds like the Jerusalem church
described in Acts.
If
we follow our shepherd, if we go through his gate and walk the path where he
leads us, it will take us to a remarkable, uncommon, extraordinary life. I
suppose it will even be abundant in terms of its generosity and sharing, in
terms of its love and the impact it has on the world around. But it will look
nothing like the ways of the world, the greed and selfishness, the focus on my
needs over yours, the grabbing for all you can get without much worry about who
might need it more.
In
recent days, we’ve seen the ways of the world in action. Large, publically
traded companies grabbed chunks of the fund created to help small businesses
pay employees and survive this crisis. Large banks reaped huge windfalls in
fees for dispensing these funds. The crisis has been leveraged for political
gain. Some firms have engaging in price gouging, increasing prices fivefold for
personal protective equipment.
But we’ve also seen a different way. Hospital
staffs are working long, hard hours at great personal risk, sometimes to save
those who have willfully disobeyed stay-at-home orders. People tirelessly sew
masks for those who need them. Restaurants give free meals to healthcare
workers and first responders. People volunteer and donate to food pantries.
Members here help us keep a revamped Welcome Table going, and some have made
large donations to funds we use to help the most vulnerable in our community. Many
do stay and home and wear mask when out, not to protect themselves but to
protect their neighbor. Some have given their coronavirus relief check to
organizations helping immigrants or those who’ve lost jobs. Here and there we
see signs of something different, something better than the way of the world.
Here and there we see glimpses of remarkable life, extraordinary life, resurrection
life, Easter life.
________________________________________________________________
Some
years ago, I acquired a book of Walter Brueggemann’s sermons and prayers. I’ve
always admired and appreciated the writings of this remarkable, Old Testament
scholar, but this collection is not like most of his books. One of the prayers
feels like a good way to conclude. It’s a prayer and a poem, and I think it
captures some of what I’m trying to say.
On
our own, we conclude:
that
there is not enough to go around
we
are going to run short
of
money
of
love
of
grades
of
publications
of
sex
of
beer
of
members
of
years
of
life
we
should seize the day
seize
the goods
seize
our neighbor’s goods
because
there is not enough to go around.
And
in the midst of our perceived deficit:
You
come
You
come giving bread in the wilderness
You
come giving children at the 11th hour
You
come giving homes to exiles
You
come giving futures to the shut-down
You
come giving Easter joy to the dead
You
come—fleshed in Jesus.
And
we watch while
the
blind receive their sight
the
lame walk
the
lepers are cleansed
the
deaf hear
the
dead are raised
the
poor dance and sing.
We watch
and
we take food we did not grow and
life
we did not invent and
future
that is gift and gift and gift and
families
and neighbors who sustain us
when
we did not deserve it.
It dawns on
us—late rather than soon—
that
“you give food in due season
you
open your hand
and
satisfy the desire of every living thing.”
By your giving,
break our cycles of imagined scarcity
override
our presumed deficits
quiet
our anxieties of lack
transform
our perceptual field to see
the
abundance… mercy upon mercy
blessing
upon blessing.
Sink your
generosity deep into our lives
that
your muchness may expose our false lack
that
endlessly receiving, we may endlessly give,
so
that the world may be made Easter new,
without
greedy lack, but only wonder
without
coercive need, but only love
without
destructive greed, but only praise
without
aggression and invasiveness…
all
things Easter new…
all
around us, toward us and
by
us
all
things Easter new.
Finish your
creation… in wonder, love, and praise. Amen. [1]
Amen.
[1] Walter Brueggemann, Inscribing the Text: Sermons and Prayers of Walter Brueggemann (Minneapolis:
Fortress Press, 2004) p. 3.
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