The Blessing of the Gate
Rev. Christa Fuller Burns

Faith Presbyterian Church
John 10:1-10 – 18 February 2018

“I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture.” (John 10:9)

During Lent this year we will be considering who Jesus says he is. As we move toward Jerusalem and his death, we will hear many competing arguments about the identity of Jesus. Is he a prophet? Is he the messiah? Is he a political threat? Is he a sinner, a blasphemer, a fake? Jesus has just given sight to a man born blind and he appears to be still talking to the Pharisees who have some questions as to this man’s identity. I am, Jesus says, the gate.

I saw an interview with the snow boarder, Shaun White, after his spectacular victory at the Olympics in which he tried to answer questions about his alleged harassment of a woman. In a clumsy response, White said, “I am who I am”, a statement that didn’t sit well with a lot of people. How we finish the sentence “I am…” is very important isn’t it? It was important for Jesus and it is important for us. Indeed, when God announces to Moses, “I am who I am”, God lays down the gauntlet for those of us who try to live fully into our calling as God’s children. Who do we say that we are?

In his “I am” statements, Jesus uses metaphors to attempt to tell us who he is. I am the gate, Jesus says. Specifically, Jesus says that he is the gate for the sheep. I can never hear about sheep pens without remembering our family’s drive east just after I had graduated from High School. Our father had been transferred to Missouri which, as Californians, we thought was just about the end of the world! We set out in our old station wagon. Our Dad wasn’t one for making reservations, or researching where we would spend the night. We just drove until we were tired and then we stopped. In this case, on our first day, we drove through the desert and we were someplace in Arizona or maybe New Mexico when we started looking for a place to spend the night. There was nothing – that is my memory of it – nothing as far as you could see – no towns, no gas stations, no nothing. Finally, we came across a run down motel and we pulled in. It wasn’t exactly up to our mother’s standards, but we had beds. I wanted desperately to watch the Democratic convention in Chicago, but there wasn’t a TV. This whole trip did not bode well, I thought. Then, after we had settled into our beds, we heard it. The motel was actually a sheep pen in the middle of a Navajo reservation. We were surrounded by bleating sheep that had been brought into the safety of the sheep pen for the night!

I suspect sheep herding has not changed all that much since Jesus’ time. Then, as now, it was important to provide protection for sheep, to gather them together in a secure place for the night…a place with a gate.

We know that gates serve two functions. Gates both allow entry and gates keep out. Gates are meant to keep out the bandits, the wolves – anything that might harm the sheep. Unfortunately, we Christians, we People of the Gate have proved very adept at using gates to keep out. My husband grew up a Southern Baptist, but when he went to college and saw the Deacons, the gate keepers, of the First Baptist Church standing on the front porch of the church to prevent Black people from entering, he left his church.

I suspect most of us have experienced closed gates at some point in our lives – a sign that says you can’t drink from that fountain, or worship at that church or eat at that counter, you can’t be ordained because of your sexual orientation, your application was turned down, your relationship ended, you had an illness that crippled you, or you were rejected one way or another. We all know what closed gates look like.

However, I think Jesus’ primary intent in describing himself at the gate is to emphasize the positive purpose gates serve as vehicles for entrance. Jesus declares that his purpose is to provide life, abundant life. He says, I came that you may have life and have it abundantly.

The image of that life is the pasture on the other side of the gate…the pasture that is green and where there is water, and peace and safety. Most of us have pleasant associations with the image of pastures. We can picture those idyllic places where we see God’s creation and are restored. Perhaps it is easy then to reduce pastures to sentimental pictures on Hallmark cards.

At a time when we confront yet another horrific school shooting in which 17 people were killed, I wonder it the image of a pasture is more nuanced that a romantic vista. In fact, I wonder if a green pasture has implications for our society.

Our schools should be pastures where our children find nourishment and peace and safety. They have become places of death and destruction. There have been 16 school shootings this year and the silence from our elected officials, those who are supposed to be gatekeepers, those who are supposed to be protecting us, is deafening!

No, this morning, I think we have to face the reality that if you are a child in school, if you are an immigrant, if you are a woman, if you are a young Black man you are not safe in this country! Those who are supposed to be the gatekeepers, the protectors – politicians, law enforcement officers, employers – are very often the ones who fail to keep us safe!

Consequently, I suggest that when Jesus says that he is the gate, he is not inviting us into a picture on a Hallmark card, much as we desire that kind of idyllic setting. I suggest Jesus is inviting us into a place where we are safe from the real evil that lurks outside the walls. This man who lived in a very dangerous time in a dangerous place and who was increasingly unsafe himself, this man says to Jerusalem, that city where he will definitely not be safe, “O that you knew the things that make for peace.” When a woman accused of adultery is brought before him by people who want to stone her, Jesus rescues her. When the disciples are out on a boat and it gets dark and a storm starts to blow, Jesus comes walking on water to bring safety.

In my mind, Jesus’ pasture summons the words of the psalmist:

For he will command his angels
concerning you
to guard you in all your ways.
On their hands they will bear you up,
so that you will not dash your foot against a stone. Ps.91:11-12

On the front page of the paper the day after the shootings in Florida was the picture of an anguished mother with a cross of ashes on her forehead. When I saw it I thought about what we had done together on Ash Wednesday. We sat in the quiet peace of the chapel with flute and guitar and piano music and we marked each other with the sign of the cross. We said to each other, “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.”

I don’t do Ash Wednesday, some people tell me. Why is that? Is it because we don’t want to be reminded that life is fleeting and fragile and always too short? Is it because we don’t want to be reminded of our own shortcomings and weaknesses? Is it because we don’t want to admit that we are, in fact sinners? Is it because we don’t want to think about the world outside the gate in which 17 people are slaughtered?

Yes. On Ash Wednesday, we are saying we are fragile. Yes. We are saying that life is short. Yes. We are saying that we need to repent. Yes we are saying we need to be saved.

Being a Christian is hard. Even though, God intends safety for us, we aren’t spared pain, or hardship or suffering. The woman whose forehead was smeared with ashes knows that. We know that Our calling is to follow Christ despite the knowledge that there are thieves and bandits and those who want to harm the sheep – us.

My question is this: If we are Christ’s body on earth, doesn’t that make us the gatekeepers? Are not we the ones who should provide sanctuary to those who are danger? Are not we the ones who should protect the vulnerable, the abused, the victims of discrimination, the children, for God’s sake! Are not we the gatekeepers?

How the Light Gets In
Rev. Christa Fuller Burns

Faith Presbyterian Church
John 9:1-41 – 11 February 2018

I read an article recently about the actor, Mickey Rourke in which Mr. Rourke talked about his trouble childhood. His father was abusive and Rourke took his desire to defeat of his father out on others, becoming a fighter himself who would fight over anything. He also resorted to drugs and other destructive behavior. Finally, Rourke went to a priest who talked him into getting help. Rourke didn’t say it but I wonder if part of what the priest was able to do for him was to enable Rourke to see himself as more than the kid he was – the fearful, fighter, substance abuser. And I wonder, too, if he was always seen in his neighborhood as that angry, violent kid.

We could ask the same question of the man born blind. Jesus happens upon him – a man blind from birth. His disciples want to know what he did to be so cursed. Or, was it something his parents did? We are so sophisticated now, are we not? We know too much science to come to the conclusion that blindness is caused by something we did wrong. However, I would ask every parent in the room: have you never looked at your child who may be struggling in some way, whose marriage failed, who may be handicapped in some way, who may be addicted in some way and asked yourself: What did I do wrong? What should I have done that I didn’t? Maybe the disciples question isn’t so naïve.

Jesus tells them that no one did anything wrong. The man was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed to him. In other words, the man’s affliction is the opportunity for the light to get in. In the words of the sadly now deceased song writer, Leonard Cohen:

Ring the bells, that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in. (Anthem)

Jesus is not saying that illness or suffering is a gift. Let’s be clear about that. He is saying that in our tragedies and our pain, there is an opportunity to be closer to God. We might be better able to know God because of our suffering. In our blindness, we in fact may be better able to see.

Jesus spits and makes some mud which he smears on the man’s eyes, telling him to go and wash it off in the pool of Siloam. Then Jesus disappears.

The man washes his eyes out and is able to see.

His neighbors, those who’ve known him from the time he was born, want to know if this is the same guy, you know, the guy who sat here and begged? Is this the same little boy who felt like it was him against the world?  Some said, no, it can’t be. But, it is me, he said. I am the man you know. How come you can see now, they want to know.

This guy named Jesus put mud on my eyes and told me to wash it off and when I did I could see. When I did wash it off I could see.

So where is he, then? I don’t know the man said. I don’t know. It’s interesting, isn’t it, that people tend to see us as they did when we were children? Isn’t that Joseph’s boy, they asked about Jesus? Our perceptions are trapped in our memories of how someone should look or be or not be. Here is this man who has been radically changed standing right in front of us but we don’t see him because, wait, isn’t this the blind kid? Didn’t we know him when he was in diapers? We know this kid. He is blind. Who’s blind?

The neighbors take the man who had been blind, not the man who can see, the man who had been blind to the Pharisees who have a lot of questions, one of which is: What exactly did this man do to you because if he actually mixed up the mud, that is a violation of the Sabbath, it being work. The Pharisees don’t believe the man.

What keeps us from seeing? Is it perhaps our preconceptions and our notion of what is tradition? In the movie about the Washington Post and the release of the Pentagon Papers, the owner of the paper, Katherine Graham struggles against the perception on the part of her advisors that a) she is a woman and therefore doesn’t know anything, b) she inherited the paper from her husband and therefore doesn’t know anything and c) there are traditional ways, safe ways to run a paper and she goes against that wisdom therefore she doesn’t know anything. Who’s blind?

Since the Pharisees don’t believe the man, they go and get his parents. Is this your son? He says he was blind and now he can see. Is that so?

The parents admit he is their son. They admit he was born blind. But they chicken out when it comes to saying how their boy got his sight. Ask him yourself, they say. He’s old enough.

It seems the parents didn’t want to get kicked out of church. If they admitted that they knew who had given their son his sight, they would be talking about Jesus. Isn’t that something! Talking about Jesus could get you in trouble at church! Change is tough, isn’t it? How many parents cannot admit their child is Gay? I remember John Lewis telling about his involvement in the Civil Rights movement and how his parents were not so supportive of his activism. How many kids don’t claim their abilities as students because of what their peers will say about them – how it is un-cool to be smart? One of my friends in college was from Tupelo Mississippi. We keep in touch at Christmas. One year she wrote me that her parents had disowned her because her daughter married a black man. Maybe they, too, were afraid of what their church folk would say. Change is hard. But that is what Jesus did – he changed people – blind beggars, an outcast woman, a Pharisee, a leper. And, you know what, sometimes Jesus changed people even on Sunday, even when it broke the law, even when it upset the church folk. Who’s blind?

Here’s the thing. There are a lot of blind people in this story. The disciples are blind because they cling to their preconception that illness or misfortune is caused by sin. The neighbors are blind because they cannot see past how they first got to know this man as a man born blind. That’s what he will always be to them. The Pharisees are blind because they can’t see that someone other than Moses can be God’s messenger and because they cannot allow restorative work if it breaks the rules. The parents are blind because they can’t own up to their son in his new self if it means they get kicked out of the community, the church, the synagogue, whatever. The only ones in this story who aren’t blind are Jesus…and the man born blind! Who’s blind?

According to the church calendar the Sunday before Lent begins is Transfiguration Sunday. Jesus takes three of his disciples up on a mountain and suddenly there is a blinding light and Jesus is changed right in front of their eyes. I always maintain that it wasn’t just Jesus who was changed. Because of what they saw, the disciples were changed too. They had been blind, but now they could see. They would trudge down the mountain, back into the darkness of the world where all the hurting people were waiting for them. They would carry with them a changed image of who Jesus is, a source of light not even the crucifixion could extinguish. I think they had a sense of possibility they did not have before.

Jesus comes along and he cracks us up. He points out Nicodemus’ flawed sense of security. He points out the Samaritan woman’s need for fulfillment. He showed the disciples how limited their view was. He reveals to us our sightlessness. We all have cracks, Jesus seems to say. We are all broken. That is how the light gets in!

Words Matter
Rev. Christa Fuller Burns

Faith Presbyterian Church
John 4:1-42 – 4 February 2018

Anyone who travels to Cuba on our church-to-church trips knows that there most always is some drama. My most recent trip just the week before last was to attend a gathering of pastors. It was to be a retreat and it was decided to have some time during which we considered the stresses of our professions and how we deal with those stresses. Our Cuban partners had acquired a psychologist to facilitate these discussions. On the very first morning, in the very first conversation, there was some drama. Our resident psychologist began the session by speaking of couples and the unique issues ministry poses for couples. Hands immediately went up. Some of my American colleagues objected to the focus on couples. First of all, not everyone in the circle was part of a couple, as evidenced by my presence. I am not sure I understand all the dynamics of that discussion. What I do remember is that the Cubans pointed out that the word for “couple” in Spanish is the same word for “partner”. Words matter.

When he was running for president, Barak Obama was accused by his opponent of having a lot of words but not much experience. In a speech in which he addressed this criticism, Obama argued, “Words matter”. I watched that speech this week. It was poignant to hear someone who could use words in such a beautiful and moving way – a skill not much in evidence these days.

The use of words is a main theme in the film, The Darkest Hour, in which Winston Churchill sets out to convince the English nation not to capitulate to Hitler despite the urging of some of country’s most influential leaders. When Churchill gives his speech in the House of Commons that completely changes the direction of the war, Lord Halifax observes that Churchill “mobilized the English language and sent it into battle”. Words matter.

For the author of the Gospel of John, words matter. My Gospel of John guru, Ray Brown, points out John’s predilection for word plays in reference to the passage we heard this morning.

Our text reads “Jesus had to go through Samaria”. Jesus did not have to go through Samaria. There were other ways to get where he was going. Samaria was to be avoided. Samaritans were to be avoided. They were the Jews who did not get shipped off to Babylon. They were regarded as unclean, as heathen. Samaritans were to be avoided. None the less, Jesus goes to Samaria. He is tired and thirsty and he sits down at a well. It was the middle of the day and it was hot.

A Samaritan woman shows up with her jug. Jesus asks her for a drink of water. By the way, the text tells us, his disciples had gone to the 7-eleven to pick up lunch. You talking to me, the woman wants to know? You – a Jewish man –  speaking to a woman…a Samaritan woman at that? Jesus and the woman engage in a conversation which, by the way, is the longest conversation Jesus has with anyone and it is with a woman, a Samaritan woman. It becomes apparent that Jesus and the woman are not talking about the same kind of water. The woman comes back at him – you don’t have a bucket, the well is deep – where are you going to get living water? Jesus tells her that the water he is talking about gives eternal life. If we drink it, we will never be thirsty again. The woman is talking about two kinds of water – sedentary well water and flowing water which is fresher and preferable to well water. Jesus is talking about the water of eternal life. It is all water but the meaning is very different. Words matter.

Jesus tells the woman to go and bring back her husband. The woman says she doesn’t have a husband. Jesus knows that. You’ve had five husbands, he says, and the man you’re living with now is not your husband.

This exchange has led scholars to portray the Samaritan woman as a woman of ill repute. I used the word “prostitute” in a sermon one time and people objected to the use of that word in mixed company. Words matter. So I will say “woman of ill repute”. However, it needs to be pointed out that just because this woman had five husbands does not mean she was a loose woman. Perhaps she was divorced. Perhaps her husbands died leaving her a widow. Perhaps she is living with her husband’s brother who was simply obeying the Levirate law about looking out after his brother’s wife. Indeed, perhaps the woman is more of a victim than a harlot. How does the story change if we see this woman as a victim – a person who has no means, no power, no respect from the other women? Maybe she was ashamed which is why she comes for water at noon when no one else is out. Words matter.

The woman continues to ask Jesus questions about where right worship takes place: I see that you are a prophet (“see”. by the way, is code in John for “to understand”.) In other words, the woman gets it! Words matter. My people, she says, claim Mt. Gerizim is the right worship place. But, your people say it is Jerusalem.

And Jesus answers her. It doesn’t matter, Jesus says, whether it is this mountain or that mountain. What matters is that you worship God in spirit and honestly.

The woman says, Well, I know this. I know that the Messiah is coming.

And Jesus answers with the first of his “I Am” statements.

At that moment, the disciples show up; back from their shopping trip. They’re shocked to see Jesus talking with that woman but they don’t say anything. The woman puts down her jar and leaves. She leaves behind the symbol of what she was looking for – her water jar. Does that mean she does not need it anymore?

The disciples say “Let’s eat.” Jesus says I have food to eat that you know nothing about. Here is the word play again. The disciples want to know if Jesus already ate. Did someone else bring lunch?  Jesus is talking about another kind of food, the kind you get from God. He is talking about harvesting – the fields are ripe for the harvest, he says. Does he mean that, as they speak, the Samaritan woman is telling her town folk that they should come and hear this man who told her everything about herself? Has the Samaritan woman been in town sowing seed while the disciples were worried about lunch? Has this Samaritan woman become the first real preacher of the gospel? John tells us that many Samaritans of the city believed in Jesus because of the woman’s word. Yes. Words matter.

The story of the Samaritan woman comes on the heels of last week’s encounter with Nicodemus. Nicodemus had credentials. He had a college diploma from Johns Hopkins with a gold sticker on it but he does not get Jesus. When Jesus starts talking about being born again, Nicodemus does not get it and I wonder if its because Nicodmeus can only understand “being born” as meaning physical birth. Words matter.

In Samaria, on the other hand, Jesus has an encounter with a woman- uneducated, unwanted, from a place that is disrespected and despised. Do we think this woman totally got Jesus? Do we…totally get Jesus? I mean, I am in my sixties. I’ve been doing this sort of thing a long time – studying the Bible, trying to preach the Bible. And I have to say I am not totally sure I understand what Jesus is saying in this passage about water of life and the harvest and fruit for eternal life.

But I do get this: I know what it means to say I am thirsty for the kind of water Jesus offers us. I know that I want the water that gushes up within us and gives life.! Maybe that is why I like poets so much – poets are willing to live with abstract realities. Poets use words to describe things they may not completely understand. And, so the poet writes, “Another morning and I wake with thirst for the goodness I do not have.” “Who knows what will finally happen or where I will be sent, yet already I have given a great many things away, expecting to be told to pack nothing, except the prayers which, with this thirst, I am slowly learning.” (Mary Oliver, Thirst, p.69)

Isn’t that what the well woman had – a thirst for the goodness she knew she didn’t have? We don’t have to understand it. We simply have to be honest about what it is we need and then we need to be open to strangers who show up and tell us everything we need to know: The water I can give you is a spring of water that bubbles up into eternal life!

Night Journeys
Rev. Christa Fuller Burns

Faith Presbyterian Church
John 3:1-21 – 28 January 2018

In the end, they let us have his body. Joseph and I barely could carry Jesus’ body but we managed to get it to an empty tomb. We laid it down in the dark cold of the place. I had the mixture of myrrh and aloes that I had purchased to embalm his body. We wrapped him in linen cloths. Ironically, it was the Day of Preparation. Were we prepared, I wondered? Was Jesus prepared…in death?

Now, as I think about it, it was the least I, Nicodemus, could do for this man who had so radically changed my life. At least I could take care of his broken and lifeless body. I could deliver him, in death, to his God.

I met Jesus early on…at the beginning of this whole mess. I had heard about the incident at the wedding where they said he changed water into wine. And I was actually there in the temple that day when he forced the money changers out, claiming that if the temple were destroyed, it would be raised in three days. Many good Jews were starting to believe him. I decided to find out for myself.

I should tell you: I am a Pharisee, a leader of my people. I have benefited from the best education and I like to think of myself as learned and a good teacher. You could say I have credentials. I have the paper to prove I should have respect. So, I suppose, my curiosity comes from wanting to know. Every scholar, I believe, should be curious. So, when the stories about Jesus went viral, I wanted to find out for myself. However, not everyone thought Jesus was believable and some of my colleagues were outright negative about him. I decided I would try to see him and I went to find him one night. I went after dark for a couple of reasons. I had been reading Torah at night, which is my custom and the idea came to me to go and find this guy. If I am totally honest, I would also say that I was somewhat concerned about being seen given the sentiments of some of my fellow priests.

I found Jesus alone. After greeting him, I asked if I could ask him some questions.

Rabbi, I said, we know that you are a teacher and we know that you must be from God because no one can do the things you are doing without being from God.

Jesus’ response remains with me to this day. He said “I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born from above.” I took this to mean that he admitted he was doing what he was doing with the authority of God…but I was confused about what he meant about being born. And, because I was trained to question and debate – it’s the Jewish way with scholars – I challenged him. How can I be born again – I am an old man. Is it possible to re-enter my mother’s womb? What do you mean by being born again?

Jesus said, “I am telling you that no one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and Spirit. What is born of flesh is flesh. What I am talking about is being born of the Spirit. What is born of the Spirit is spirit. Don’t look so surprised when I tell you that you have to be born again. God’s spirit is like the wind. It blows however it blows and all your learning cannot figure out how that happens. It just happens. You don’t know where the wind comes from or where it goes. You can’t figure it out. That is what it is like to be born of the spirit. And, let me tell you this, he said, all the credentials in the world don’t matter when it comes to being born from above!

First of all, I need to tell you, I don’t like wind. It is unpredictable and somewhat scary. I don’t like that I cannot control the wind. I am, I confess, a very rational person – most scholars are. So, when Jesus started talking about being born by the wind, by the spirit, I felt decidedly uneasy. How can this be, I wanted to know.

Jesus got this sort of amused look on his face and asked how I could be a teacher of Israel and not know these things. He said that he’s been talking about physical things and still we don’t believe him. How, then, are we going to believe him when he talks about spiritual things?

Then he mentioned Moses and how he raised that snake up on a pole and told the people to look at the thing and live. That’s what it will be like with the Son of Man, he said. Whoever believes in him will have eternal life. Of course, I knew the story of Moses but I wasn’t sure what he was talking about. Was he saying that, like the snake on the pole, he would be raised high and that whoever believed in him would have eternal life?

Then he talked about how God loves this world – all the world – and how God sent the only son because God loved the world and how God didn’t condemn the world despite all the bad things happening in it. God doesn’t condemn the world but wants to save it. The problem is people like the dark. They choose ignorance and greed and hate rather than choosing the light.

There I was standing in the light of his room, having come out of the night. The significance was not lost on me. But I had to think about this – it was a lot to take in. When he talked about God loving all the world – did he mean the evil Romans? So, I went home…because I had to think.

In the days that followed, I listened for word about what Jesus was doing. I heard about his visit to Samaria and I thought to myself “this cannot be good – to mix with those people”. I heard about his healing the son of a Gentile ruler and, once again, I thought he is going to be in trouble. I heard how he was back in town and had healed a lame man on the Sabbath yet again inviting the anger of my colleagues. But I didn’t go to see him and I have to admit to feeling some relief when he left town and returned to Galilee. You are safer there, I thought. And, yet, I still heard about how he had fed five thousand people one day and how he walked on water and how crowds showed up wherever he went to hear him teach. All the while, he was making my fellow rulers more and more angry. I could tell they were eager to do something to stop Jesus but he stayed in Galilee and I was relieved that he didn’t show up in Jerusalem.

However, during the Festival of the Booths, he returned to Jerusalem. Not only that, but he went right into the temple and started teaching, claiming that God was telling him what to say and a lot of the people got anxious. He kept talking about water and how if you were thirsty you should come to him. Some people in the temple believed him. They started claiming that Jesus was the Messiah.

On the last day of the festival, I decided to go to the temple because I heard that my colleagues had ordered the temple police to arrest Jesus. Sure enough, the police were there and, after listening to Jesus, they came back to us. My colleagues demanded to know why they hadn’t arrested Jesus. The police said: You gotta listen to this guy! We’ve never hear anyone who can preach like him! The crowd, my friends said, what do they know! They don’t know the law! Don’t tell us you are falling for this baloney too!

I don’t know why, maybe it was that wind blowing, but I could not remain silent. I spoke up: As you’ve mentioned our law, I said, doesn’t our law saw that we do not judge someone without hearing what they have to say? Clearly it was not the law, they were worried about. They simply accused me of being a Galilean, that God forsaken place out of which nothing good can come, certainly not a prophet. The guy is a fraud, they said. However, that was the end of it. Everyone went home.

In the days that followed, Jesus didn’t slow down. He healed a blind man, he stood up for an adulterous woman, he engaged his detractors in debates, he kept describing himself as the light of the world, or the good shepherd, or the bread of life or the door. Finally, he brought ole Lazarus back to life announcing that he was the resurrection and the life! Still, I did not go to see him. I did not follow him.

Finally, they killed him and, like the snake on the pole, they lifted him up on the cross. I was there. This time, I was there. I can’t say that I totally get the whole spirit thing, the being re-born thing. I do know this: I am not the same man I was. Somehow I found my voice that day in the temple. And I do know this, you don’t give a man a royal burial unless you think he deserved it. I may not be counted among his disciples, but I could lavish his dead body with the best oil I could find!

A few days later, the rumors started flying. Jesus had been seen. Mary Magdalene found the tomb open. When Peter and others got to the tomb they found it empty. The only evidence that Jesus had been there were those expensive linen grave clothes. Mary claims that Jesus spoke to her while she was still in the garden. Then there is the story about how the disciples locked themselves in a room, so afraid were they of what people would do to Jesus’ followers. They say Jesus showed up there too. There are other stories but the one that perhaps matters most to me is the story about Thomas. I relate to Thomas. Thomas had questions about Jesus. He was skeptical, you might say. And, then one day, Jesus appeared in a room and Thomas was there. Jesus said, “Peace be with you” and then he asked Thomas to touch the holes in his hands. Thomas did touch and seemingly all his doubts went away. My Lord and my God, he shouted. Jesus didn’t scold Thomas. He only asked him if he believed just because he had seen him in the flesh. Blessed are those who believe and haven’t seen him…in the flesh, Jesus said.

When I heard about Thomas, I sat down and cried. I cried because I finally got it – about being born by the spirit. I got it about the wind. I got it about how it is not about how much you know, how much Bible you know, how much you know about how things work, or don’t work. It is not about how well you pray.

It is about coming in from the dark.

It is about….letting God give birth to you.

It’s The Annual Meeting: What Could Go Wrong?
Rev. Christa Fuller Burns

Faith Presbyterian Church
John 2:13-25 – 21 January 2018

In the paper this week there was an article entitled “It’s the Vikings and the Eagles – What could go wrong?” The article pointed out that no team has won more games in the Super Bowl era without winning the championship than the Vikings. The next team with the most wins without winning the prize is the Eagles. Something always goes wrong, it seems, for these two teams.

The story about the money changers being expelled from the temple appears in all four Gospels, which makes it one of those rare examples of continuity in the Bible. However, John places his version of the story at the very beginning of his Gospel in contrast to the other three Gospel versions in which it appears towards the end of the story. Indeed, the story as it appears elsewhere, is the catalyst for Jesus’ arrest and execution. Jesus’ action in the temple was the last straw, so to speak.

Why, then, does John put the story where he does? According to Barbara Lundblad, the incident in the temple points to “the heart of who Jesus was and what he had come to do. It had to come at the beginning and not at the end.” (Far More than Bingo – Day 1). In addition, in John’s version, Jesus has just changed water into wine. People know. The Disciples know. His time is up.

If the episode in the temple is emblematic of who Jesus really is, then what exactly does it tell us about Jesus?

First of all, it needs to be pointed out that this story was intended for Jews. Jesus was a Jew and his followers were all Jews. As such, Jesus’ action is seen in the context of a Jew who loved the temple, which was more than a big sanctuary in a big city. The temple was the center of all of life for Jews in Jesus’ day. It also should be pointed out that, while Jesus’ action infuriated and threatened some, it also compelled many Jews to believe in him.

Why did Jesus do what he did? People who came to the temple came to offer a sacrifice which they could apparently buy in the court of the Gentiles which was surrounded by the sacred temple area. In order to make this purchase, pilgrims needed to exchange Roman money which bore the image of the emperor and was blasphemous for Jews. In other words, the money changers were perfectly legal. They were good people who were doing believers a favor by providing their services. The money changers were necessary to the temple’s day to day operations. None the less, Jesus marches into the midst of the moneychangers and forecloses on their operation. He tells them to clear out.

Perhaps what Jesus did in the temple was not much different than what many of us did yesterday when we showed up downtown to demonstrate against what we see happening in our country. The speeches started at 11. They were still going on at 1 so a group of us just started marching. Soon others joined in. There were no disturbances. There was no disobedience unless you count walking out on yet another speaker.

If that is the case and Jesus was methodically demonstrating in the temple, was he angry or violent? It is my guess that the most frequent depiction of this story is of a furious Jesus violently driving the moneylenders out of the temple. However, nowhere in the text we read this morning does it mention Jesus’ mood or his temper. It simply says he made a whip out of cords and uses that to expel the moneylenders. It is possible Jesus simply wanted to make a point in a calculated way. No one was hurt. No property was destroyed. People just doing their jobs in a practice that has become accepted as the way it has always been done are the subject of Jesus’ protest. Why? What was going on in the temple that Jesus’ found so offensive?

Today we hold our Annual Meeting. It is a very Presbyterian thing to do, this annual meeting. We will present the budget believing in our obligation to make everything that has to do with money transparent. And we will vote on a proposal to change the pastor’s terms of call. All very Presbyterian. When I first came to Faith, there was a member who challenged the budget and the annual meeting could get a little testy. However, these days, the annual meeting is more an occasion to celebrate the generous financial support of our members and to describe what our giving allows us to do.

I’ve just come back from Cuba where pastors from the states met with pastors from Cuba. One of my colleagues from Baltimore told me about her first annual meetings in her new church. The way she made it sound, the meetings were knock down drag out brawls.

That made me remember the first congregational meeting I attended. We lived in Southern California and attended a rather large, affluent Presbyterian church in Los Angeles. My family became good friends with the pastor and his family. It was the 60’s. I was in junior high school. My father was Mr. Church. He believed in the church, served as an elder, Sunday school superintendent, you name it. My father made us wait for what seemed like hours before heading to Howard Johnsons for lunch because he talked to every last person in church. My dad was Mr. Church.

The meeting in question took place when the church was having a problem. The pastor and his wife were in the process of adopting a child and someone sent a letter to the congregation alleging that the child was black. My father was so outraged at this that, in one particular phone call from a church member, I heard him swear. I never, ever  heard my father swear! The closest my father ever came to swearing was to exclaim “Jiminy Cricket”!

The congregational meeting was to elect new officers.  Because of “the problem”, the meeting was being moderated by another pastor. I sat up in the balcony. When the slate of new elders was read, my father’s name was among them. Suddenly, there was a huge commotion. People objected to my father’s name being on the ballot.  He had not been a member long enough, they said. Everyone knew this wasn’t the real reason. My father had defended the pastor against vile and racist accusations. You know, I don’t remember how that election turned out. I just remember how dark it seemed sitting up there in the balcony.

Looking back on that experience, I suppose you could say, like the moneychangers, the people in that church were good people who thought they were upholding Christian tradition and values. However, I wish Jesus had shown up that day…with his whip!

Anyone who has been to Cuba will echo that favorite Cuban saying, “It is complicated”. Everything in Cuba is complicated. It is complicated to find food, especially after the hurricane, and when you can find it, it is expensive. It is complicated to do your job. Most of the pastors serve more than one church. Most do not have transportation. Getting from place to place is complicated. I took gifts of coffee to pastors in a country that grows coffee because coffee is not always readily available and it is expensive. It is complicated. It is complicated to communicate in Cuba. It used to be no one had a phone, not to mention a laptop. That is changing but it is still difficult for us to call or email and it is not easy for the Cuban pastors to stay in touch with each other. They tell us that they yearn for those times when they can share their difficult lives in person. Money in Cuba is complicated – there is the money that tourists can use and there is the money that only citizens use. It’s complicated. Everyone is concerned about what will happen when Raul Castro steps down, supposedly in April, if he, in fact, does step down because they fear the one who replaces him will be worse. One pastor told me that the reason he is so worried about a change in government is that the Cuban people are not active citizens. Many people are simply not informed or involved in their communities. I pointed out to them that the same could be said of us.

One evening, I was talking to my colleague, Jesus. Jesus serves two churches and moderates the session of one of our partner churches. I told him about the conference Audrey and I attended at the seminary in Matanzas. I explained how disturbed I was that at a conference about feminist theology, Fidel Castro was figured prominently. A man who has imprisoned those who disagree with him and who has not exactly been the model of liberation theology was celebrated.

Ah, Jesus, said, you have to understand that the Presbyterian Church is today governed by people who owe their ability to function to the Castro regime and they are unable to see their church differently. They are good people who think they are being faithful but they are unable to see doing church differently. But we need, Jesus said, a different church – a church that is not so devoted to a rigid way of doing things, a church that is more responsive to the needs of its community. Do you know, he said, that every church in Cuba has a feeding program for the elderly and a laundry program? And do you know why, he said? It is because years ago Castro “asked” churches to provide these services because the government either couldn’t or did not want to. I seem to remember a similar request being made in our country – will the churches provide a safety net for the vulnerable in our society so the government does not have to? Jesus argues that these programs are good but they are not necessarily what the community most needs. A different church with a different way of working will have to wait until a new leadership is in place, a leadership that doesn’t owe its authority to Castro.

Perhaps we could say that, in Jesus’ mind, the powers that be in the temple, like the powers that be in the Cuban church are too rigid in their view of who and what is the church. According to Jesus, some of the best Christians in Cuba are not in the church. In fact, they may not even know they are Christians. Sounds like a job for Jesus and his whips.

The thing about the moneychangers is that they served as symbols of a system that defined who was in and who was out, who was pure and who wasn’t in a way that excluded people rather than included them. There were rigid boundaries between righteous and sinner, whole and not whole, male and female, rich and poor, pure and impure. In this sense, Jesus’ demonstration in the temple that day served to disrupt a system that had turned exclusion into an acceptable norm. When Jesus ran the moneychangers out of the temple that day, he expelled those who prevented the poor and the different from access to God.

This reality is an essential truth about who Jesus is according to John. That is why the temple purge happens at the beginning of John’s story. It tells us that Jesus is about disrupting all those things that serve to separate us from the love of God.

It is not surprising then that the Jewish leaders want to know who gave Jesus that authority to do what he did.  Jesus responds, you destroy this temple and in three days I’ll raise it up. How? How can you do that Jesus – it took forty six years to build this temple. Jesus wasn’t talking about the church building, according to John. He was talking about his body and what was going to happen to him.

This morning we will celebrate our church building which is older than the temple was in Jesus’ time. We will see figures for how much it takes to maintain our church building, albeit less money due to the faithful volunteer crew that does a lot of the maintenance themselves. When we look at the budget, let’s ask ourselves: Is it about the building which took 46 years to build? Is it about the moneylenders who are keeping tradition in place, who are resisting taking down the barriers that make it hard or impossible for people to come to Jesus? Do we have to always do it this way?

Or is it about Jesus’ body, the one that was raised from the dead? Is about welcoming everyone to the love of Christ?