YEAR C 2025 easter 3

Easter 3, 2025
Acts 9:1-20
Revelation 5:11-14
John 21:1-19
Psalm 30

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

I think the theme running through all these readings today is this:
God is not afraid to meet us where we are.  Whether we are against God, or forgetting God, or even unable to perceive God at all.  No matter how we feel,  or what we do, God is always showing up.  Let’s start with the reading from Acts.

Saul is actively hunting down Christians in order to bind them and deport them to Jerusalem.  When I look around the United States today—and I promise this is not a political position, but—the closest analogy I can find is that he is acting like an ICE agent chasing people down and taking them away.  As we heard, he is combing through letters people have written, looking for evidence he can use to arrest them and take them to another country.  He is committed to doing whatever it takes, and is on his way to Damascus to round up the infidels.

And of course, on the way, Jesus appears to him, asks why he is persecuting him, and Saul is struck blind.  Now, as I said, your bulletin insert left off the rest of the story because it is optional . . . for some reason!  But to me it’s the most important part of the story!  God tells a disciple named Ananias to go and pray with Saul.  And, Ananias is understandably reluctant.  He knows of Saul’s reputation as an ICE-like agent, and he’s certainly not looking to be rounded up and deported to Jerusalem.  But Ananias does as God tells him, and goes and prays with Saul.  Then Saul regains his sight, gets baptized, eats some food, and regains his strength.  But then we heard . . .

“For several days [Saul] was with the disciples in Damascus, and immediately he began to proclaim Jesus in the synagogues, saying, ‘He is the Son of God’.”  Just think about what that means for the Christians living in Damascus.  This guy, who just days earlier was on his way to bust into their homes and drag them off in chains to a foreign country, is now claiming to be one of them.  On a smaller scale, just imagine how uncomfortable you would be if Bruce the street preacher decided to join us on Sunday mornings, claiming to be converted to our belief in baptizing babies and taking communion.  I feel like we’d welcome him in, of course.  But would we trust him?  With that kind of sudden change of heart?

In some ways the most remarkable thing about this story is that the Christians in Damascus trusted in God enough to worship alongside the person who came to town for the express purpose of dragging them away for their faith!  Saul was actively persecuting the followers of Jesus, and Jesus came to him anyway.  And the Christians in Damascus trusted God enough to welcome the very person who was “breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord.”  God comes to us, even when we are against God.

And then that gospel reading.  Every three years I get the chance to say, “When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on some clothes, for he was naked, and jumped into the sea.”  And it makes me smile.  But the thing I want to look at today is the start of that reading.  First, the context of the timeline.  

Two weeks ago, we heard the Easter story of the Resurrection of Jesus.  You’re familiar with that one.  It’s the start of the 20th chapter of John’s gospel.  Then last Sunday, we heard of Jesus appearing to his disciples twice, with Thomas being there for the second one.  So the disciples have already seen the resurrected Jesus two times before we get to today’s reading.  They’ve already seen him twice.  Thomas has touched the holes in Jesus’ hands.  And that’s the end of chapter 20.

Then Chapter 21 opens with the disciples being gathered together, and Peter says, “I am going fishing." And they say to him, "We will go with you.”  Stop right there.  Think back to how we got here.  Peter and several other disciples were fishermen.  And when they met Jesus, they left their nets behind and they followed him for about three years.  Then Jesus is arrested and put to death.  Then he rises from the grave and appears to them inside a locked room.  Twice!  After all of that, Peter says, “I am going fishing." And they say to him, "We will go with you.”

You’ve just had a real-life encounter with the risen Lord.  Twice!  And the next thing you do is say, “I’m going fishing”?!?  After all Peter has been through, after all he has seen and done, he decides to go back to what he was doing when he first met Jesus.  Like, “Well, we had some laughs.  I guess it’s back to the old grindstone.”  But I think there’s a lesson for us in that.  Because sometimes a life-changing experience doesn’t actually change us.  Or not permanently anyway.  People tend to stick to what they know.  Or return to what they know.  In a way, Peter has sort of given up on Jesus.  But Jesus hasn’t given up on Peter!

After the disciples take some fishing advice from the stranger on the shore, they catch a ton of fish, and they realize that it’s Jesus.  A third time!  And, since Peter was fishing naked, as one does, he puts on some clothes and jumps into the sea.  For comic relief I guess.  And then we have the encounter on the shore, and then Jesus and Peter have that conversation.  Jesus asks Peter three times if he loves him, which we can see as a redemption for the three times Peter denied him.  There’s an aspect of this conversation that I’ve told you about before, but it bears repeating.

The Greek language has more than one word for love.  In English, love is love, and the context is the only thing that can give us more information.  In Greek, the three main kinds of love are eros, philios, and agape.  Eros gives us erotic love, maybe we could say romantic love.  Philios gives us brotherly love, or love for our neighbor, as in Philadelphia.  And then agape is usually thought of as the perfect selfless love, the kind God has for us.  Agape love is what we see in John 3:16, where God so loved the world, unconditionally, that He gave his only son.

So, here’s the big thing:  the first two times, Jesus asks Peter, “Do you agape love me?  Do you perfectly and selflessly love me?  Would you lay down your life for me?”  And Peter responds with, “Lord, you know that I philios love you.  I love you like a brother.  I love you as my friend.”  The first two questions and responses are the same.  “Do you love me selflessly?”  “Lord, you know I love you as my brother.”

But the third time Jesus asks the question, he changes it.  The third time, Jesus doesn’t ask Peter if he loves him with that perfect love, that agape love, the love that would lay down one’s life, would never deny or abandon him.  No, the third time Jesus asks Peter, “Do you philios love me?  Peter do you love me as a brother, a companion, a friend?”  And Peter’s response is the same as the first two times.  Peter says, “Lord, I love you as my brother.”  

Jesus, in this third question, comes to meet Peter where he is.  He does not ask Peter to become perfect.  And, he does not keep asking until Peter makes a promise Peter knows he cannot keep.  It’s not as though, after the resurrection, Peter suddenly becomes able to live up to his promise to lay down his life for Jesus.  I mean, as we heard, he decided to go fishing!  But Jesus comes to Peter.  Saul was against Jesus, and Jesus came to him anyway.  Peter was forgetting Jesus, and Jesus came to him anyway.
And then do you remember the third category I mentioned at the beginning?  Against God, forgetting God, and unable to perceive God?

There’s a little phrase tucked away in the reading from Revelation today.  John writes,

I heard the voice of many angels surrounding the throne and the living creatures and the elders; they numbered myriads of myriads and thousands of thousands, singing with full voice,
"Worthy is the Lamb that was slaughtered
to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might
and honor and glory and blessing!”
Then I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea, and all that is in them, singing . . .

John hears the angels, and the elders, and every creature singing praises to the Lamb.  Every creature in heaven, and on the earth, and under the earth, and in the sea, and all that is.  ALL of them singing.  Singing.

But that raises a deeper question.  Do dogs perceive God?  Do birds?  Do whales?  Do earthworms?  I think we’d all be inclined to say no.  And yet . . . and yet.  One day, every creature in heaven, and on earth, and under the earth, and in the sea, and all that is.  ALL of them singing.  Even the ones who do not even perceive God.

As I said at the beginning:  Jesus is not afraid to meet us where we are.  Whether we are against God, like Saul.  Or forgetting about God, like Peter.  Or even unable to perceive God at all, like all the creatures that surround us.  No matter how we feel, or what we do, or what we know of God, God is always showing up.  Always meeting us where we are.  Jesus will always come to you.  No matter what.

Thanks be to God.

Amen

Catherine of Siena

 

Catherine of Siena, Mystic and Prophetic Witness, 1380

 Lamentations 3:31-36

 Psalm 36

 Luke 12:22–31

As we heard in the first reading today, “When all the prisoners of the land are crushed under foot, when human rights are perverted in the presence of the Most High, when one’s case is subverted—does the Lord not see it?”  No matter where you stand politically, there can be no doubt that we are seeing prisoners of our land crushed under foot, seeing human rights perverted, and cases subverted.  I mean, you and I can see all those things happening if we just open a newspaper!  And if we are seeing them, it means that God definitely sees them.  And don’t even get me started on the first four verses of Psalm 36!

We are living in turbulent times.  But we are not the first to live in such times.  In fact, “turbulent times” seems to be all times.  Our struggles are not the struggles that Catherine of Siena went through, but there are parallels to be sure.  And in Catherine’s life, we might find inspiration for our own times.  In the face of the challenges of the 14th century, we can see her focus on self-determination, healing, and unity.  And I think those are three good things for us to focus on in our own. time.  Self-determination, healing, and unity.

As a young woman in a family with 25 children, there were expectations put on Catherine and her sisters.  Namely, get married!  Each of the daughters would be expected to do everything she could to find a husband and establish a life as a married woman outside the crowded family home.  Look pretty, smile a lot, and get out of here.  In response to those pressures, Catherine chose to cut her hair, which our biography calls “her chief beauty.”  The forces in her life told her it was important to appeal to the superficial impulses of the world around her.  Catherine chose a different path.  A dangerous path.  She stood up for herself, and eventually the authorities relented.  An inspirational example of self-determination, which we would do well to notice in our current climate.

As for healing, Catherine became a nurse within the Dominican order, which was a common practice at the time.  But we hear that she specifically focused on those with leprosy and suffering from cancer; people whom others did not want to come near.  And how common it is that those who make us uncomfortable or afraid get mistreated and ignored.  It’s easy to walk away from the suffering of others.  What is not easy is to step into the breach and risk one’s own life and safety for those who are not like us.  It is easy to say to ourselves, “Well those aren’t my children,” or “those aren’t my people,” and wash our hands of the matter.  But Catherine went where others would not, with bravery and compassion.  An inspirational example of healing, which we would do well to notice in our current climate.

And then we come to unity.  As we await the start of the Conclave that will choose a next Pope, it is hard to imagine a time when there were two popes.  But in what is called “The Great Schism,” there were two men making claim to the title of the one Holy Father.  And throughout that period, as we heard “Catherine wrote tirelessly to princes, kings, and popes, urging them to restore unity to the Church.”  It is easy to imagine how each pope would have surrounded himself with sycophants and enablers, assuring them both that they alone wielded the power and the voice of God on the earth.  How does one even begin to sort that out?  But Catherine did not give up.  She knew the importance of the Church being One.  An inspirational example of unity, which we would do well to notice in our current climate.

In all three of these areas, self-determination, healing, and unity, Catherine of Siena exemplifies the type of person we should strive to be, with God’s help.  Standing up for our own rights as people created in the image of God.  Standing up for those that society finds it is easier to shun or ignore.  Standing up to those with earthly power to remind them of the value of unity, across all divides.

It doesn’t have to be like this.  We don’t have to cower in fear of authority, or join the crowd that wants to send away those who are different, or buy into the lie that says we are fighting on different sides, when we are actually one people.  May Catherine’s life, devoted to self-determination, healing, and unity, be an example to us all.  

Amen

YEAR C 2025 easter 2

Easter 2, 2025
Acts 5:27-32
Revelation 1:4-8
John 20:19-31
Psalm 150

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

So, there’s your annual “Doubting Thomas” gospel story.  Every year, in all three years of the lectionary cycle, this is the gospel reading for the second Sunday of Easter.  Every single year.  Which means, unless I got a substitute, I have preached on this same text every year for the 15 years that I’ve been ordained.  And—to be honest—I’m kind of out of ideas for now.  But we’ve still got three other perfectly good readings to look at, so today I want to talk about the reading from the Revelation to St. John.

“'I am the Alpha and the Omega’," says the Lord God, who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty.”  Jesus says that same thing two more times in Revelation, so it’s clearly important. Now as every good Greek student knows, alpha is the first letter of the Greek alphabet, and omega is the last letter.  Alpha to omega is like A to Z.  Alpha and omega, the beginning and the end.  There are no letters that are not contained between those two.  Every possible word is made up of letters within those end points.  Nothing exists outside of Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end.

We can think of alpha and omega as the outstretched arms of Jesus.  And that is the space where we live our lives.  Within the infinite wingspan of Jesus.  All things exist within the arms of Jesus.  When we die, we are not going anywhere we have not always been.  There is nothing outside those arms.  Nothing before; nothing after.  In the beginning was the Word.  And at the end of everything will be the Word.  The beginning and the end; the alpha and the omega.

The chasuble I’m wearing this morning came from St. Alban’s Church in Cleveland Heights.  On Thursday evening, I went up to join the Bishop in decommissioning the church, which closed and disbanded about two years ago.  I was sort of like their unofficial priest for a few years before I came here.  The now secularized building is being sold to an art collective.  After the service, the Bishop said those in attendance could take anything we wanted from the building.  I took a box of taper candles, and I didn’t want this lovely hand-made chasuble to end up rotting in the cathedral basement, so I brought this home as well.

I’m not going to replace the beautiful chasuble we already have, but this one will be worn on some occasions, like today.  Because that’s important.  Just as it’s important to remember that St. Alban’s Church existed, and it existed within the outstretched arms of Jesus.  St. Alban’s is not going anywhere it has not always been.  Just like you and me.  All within the span of the alpha and the omega.  There are no words, or letters, or people, or faith communities that do not fall within that embrace.

We all spend so much time worrying about how long things will last.  From our retirement accounts to the milk in the fridge.  From the aging roof on the house to our aging bodies sitting here today.  Nothing lasts forever.  Part of what makes cut flowers valuable is that they don’t last forever.  Which is why we need to enjoy them now, while we have them.  The value of earthly living things is precisely because they don’t last.  Cling to them while you can, but when you have to say goodbye, remember that they are still within the arms of Jesus.

I heard someone point out recently that the en dash on a tombstone represents an entire life.  You’ve got the birth year and the death year, and that little dash between them is the life lived, however brief, or however long.  And there’s something to that.  But the beginning and end of that life—of your life—is not the beginning and end of all that is.  For that, you need Jesus.  The alpha and the omega.  The beginning and the end.  All beginnings and all the endings take place within the alpha and the omega.

I know that we all have our disagreements over . . . well, just about everything.  And the way things are going, there will be plenty more of that!  We don’t see eye to eye on everything.  And I would argue that that’s a good thing!  Because we are different people, with different life experiences.  Different values and families.  Different lifespans even.  But all of us live our lives within the alpha and the omega, between the beginning and the end.  No matter what happens in this life, we are always within the outstretched arms of Jesus.  Who gave his life for us, and who now lives and reigns, forever and ever.

Amen.

YEAR C 2025 festival of easter

Easter 2025
Acts 10:34-43
1 Corinthians 15:19-26
Luke 24:1-12
Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

The men in dazzling clothes said to the women, “Remember how he told you . . .”  And then, “They remembered his words.”  Remember how he told you.  That is the thing to cling to today.  In fact, it is the thing to cling to every day.  Remember how he told you, and then remember what he said.

Like, remember how he told you, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”  Remember how he told you, “Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”  Remember how he told you, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”  Remember how he told you, “I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”

But we forget, don’t we?  We get tired, and anxious, and worried, and lonely.  And we forget that Jesus told us he is still with us.  We forget that he said because I live, you also will live.  We forget that he said from the cross, “It is finished.”

But let’s go back to that reading from Luke, and the women at the tomb.  They have arrived there without hope, and they are there to do what needs to be done.  When they get to the tomb, the stone has been rolled away, and there is no body.  Just two days before, there was a body.  They saw it; that’s why they went home without hope to prepare the spices.  They had forgotten what he told them.  And then, two men in dazzling clothes are standing beside them, and the women are terrified.  And these men ask, “Why do you look for the living among the dead?”  Such a good question!

The messengers say, “Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again." Then they remembered his words, and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. 

It’s not a question, asking them if they remember.  It is a statement, or even an encouragement:  “Remember how he told you.”  There’s not a question mark in the text.

For the women, the body of Jesus missing from the tomb is not good news.  Far from it!  The presence of two men in dazzling clothes is no cause for hope.  Far from it!  So then I ask you . . . Can you see where God is acting in this story?  Jesus is not there, so where is God?  Where is the hope they need in their time of need?  Where is God making a difference here?

The answer is, in the remembering.  The men—these angels—the ones in dazzling white are messengers from God.  And what have they done?  They have told the women to remember.  It’s not a new teaching.  Not a new insight.  Not a grand announcement.  It is . . . remembering.  The women already knew these words; they had already heard what would happen.  They just needed to remember.  And in remembering, they are given hope.  Keeping hope alive is what keeps us alive.

Remembering is woven through our prayers, and especially in our Eucharistic Prayers.  After a series of praises, they all move to the celebrant reminding both us and God of what God has done in the past.  Today, using Prayer D,  we will remind ourselves and God that we were formed in God’s own image, that God did not abandon us to the power of death.  That in God’s mercy, God came to our help.  That God sent Jesus to save us, and sent the Holy Spirit so that we might live for Jesus.

It is an ancient way of praying, and all the Abrahamic faiths follow this pattern.  Remembering how God has saved in the past, and asking God to save us now.  The whole first half of the Easter Vigil is exactly this.  To hear the stories of God’s action in history, and to remember.  Remembering is powerful stuff!  Remembering keeps hope alive, and hope keeps us alive.

“Do this in remembrance of me.”  You know that phrase well.  You hear it every time the bread and chalice are raised at these Altars.  It is not a new teaching; it is not a new concept: it is remembering.  We are reminded of what Jesus has done; we are reminded that he said on the third day he would rise again; we are reminded that he said, “This is my body,” and “this is my blood.”  We are reminded that God has saved in the past, is saving now, and will save in the future.  We are reminded that God has not let us down yet.

We do not hope because we can see the future.  We have hope because we can remember the past.  Not knowing what will happen, but remembering what God has already done.  Remembering brings hope, and hope keeps us alive.  We do not know what the future holds.  But we have hope because we remember.  And God has not let us down yet.

As those visitors said to the women at the tomb:  Remember how he told you he would rise again.  And they remembered his words, and they went and told the others.  Today, let us also remember, and go and tell the others.  There is always hope because we remember, and hope keeps us alive.  Remember what God has done for us.  And go and tell the others.
Happy Easter!

Amen.

YEAR C 2025 good friday

Good Friday, 2025
Isaiah 52:13-53:12
Hebrews 10:16-25
John 18:1-19:42
Psalm 22

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

What we just heard is a story of Law v. Love.  What is legal v. what is moral.  What is allowed v. doing the right thing.  Selfish v. selfless. 

Everyone in the story is looking for justifications for their actions.  Here is why this man must die, and here is why it is not my fault.  You must be the one to kill this man because I am not allowed to, or I am not qualified to, or I am not a Jew.  Everyone is looking to be exonerated and everyone is looking to justify their own participation in this violence.

Except for Jesus.
Throughout this reading, Jesus keeps asking the obvious questions, the truthful questions.  An innocent lamb, headed for the slaughter.  Everyone else is trying to justify their own part in the slaying.  But there is no justification; there is no excuse; there is no exoneration.  For any of them, or for any of us.  

The temptation for you and me is to think we would have done things differently.  That we’re on Jesus’ side, unlike the chief priests, and the police, and the governor, and the disciples.  Don’t fall into that trap.  Putting ourselves into this story is a fool’s errand.  Because if it is a story about the people around Jesus . . . well, you see how it ends.

Look to Jesus.  This is a story about Jesus, not the people looking to be justified.  You and I play all the other parts at different times in our lives.  Sometimes we accuse, sometimes we deny, sometimes we call out for violence and death.  At one time or another, you and I end up standing in for each and every person in this story, except for one.  There is only one truly righteous person in this story.  Only one whose actions are justified.  Only one who is exonerated.  And by his wounds we are healed.

Jesus, Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, have mercy on us, and grant us your peace.

Amen.

YEAR C 2025 maundy thursday

Maundy Thursday, 2025
Exodus 12:1-4, 11-14
1 Corinthians 11:23-26
John 13:1-17, 31b-35
Psalm 116:1, 10-17

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

“Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.”  Jesus loved them till the end.  All of them.  All of them beloved.  All of them welcome.

Jesus washes all the disciples feet.  Judas has not yet left to do quickly what he must do.  He’s still there.  And, as Jesus says to Peter, “Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.”  This means all twelve disciples have “a share with” Jesus—whatever that phrase may mean.  All 12 having a share includes Judas.  Peter is beloved, not better.  And Judas is welcome, not worse.  Whatever Jesus is doing in this washing of his disciples’ feet, he is doing it both to Peter and to Judas, along with all the others.  Beloved, not better.  Welcome, not worse.

We call today Maundy Thursday.  Maundy comes from the latin word, maundatum, which in English becomes “commandment.”  (You can think of our word “mandatory.”)  In many churches tonight, people will wash one another’s feet, as a sign of humility and service.  Some Christians—like those in the Church of God—view foot washing as something like another sacrament.  But here at St. Timothy’s, this has never really been part of our tradition.  And to be honest, I’m glad for that.

Because foot washing does not mean for us what it meant to Jesus and his disciples.  In our society, more than anything, foot washing is awkward and uncomfortable for the person whose feet are being washed, which is definitely not the point Jesus was making.  To wash someone’s feet in Jesus’ day was a sign of service and humility—as if taking on the role of an indentured servant, as a matter of fact.  In our day and time, it’s like the roles are reversed: you have to humble yourself to let someone do the washing, rather than be the washer.  It gets it all backwards.

But Jesus does indeed give us a commandment tonight.  And if you look at the story, the commandment—this maundatum—is not a commandment to wash one another’s feet.  We know this, because Jesus comes right and tells us what the commandment is.  “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another.”  That’s the commandment: to love one another.  And the foot washing is an example of how you might have done that in Jesus’ day.  But how do we follow this commandment to love one another in our own time?

Well, I suspect it will be different for each of us.  But by giving us the example of taking on the role of a servant, Jesus points the way.  “Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

“Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.”  May God give us the inspiration and the courage to love as Jesus loves.  And in doing so, others will know that we are disciples of Jesus.  Like Peter, beloved, not better.  Like Judas, welcome, not worse.  Together, we are the disciples of Jesus, following his commandment to live in love, as he loves us.  To walk in love, as Jesus first loved us, and gave himself for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God.  

Amen.

YEAR C 2025 palm sunday

Palm Sunday, 2025
Isaiah 50:4-9a
Philippians 2:5-11
Luke 23:1-49
Psalm 31:9-16

In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Amen.

How did we get here?  How did we go from a crowd singing Hosanna to the King, to a crowd shouting crucify this false king?  How did they let this happen?  How did no one speak up?  How is it that not one person was willing to step forward and say, “This is madness!  Make it stop!”  I know we like to think we would have done that.  We like to think that we would step in front of the crowd and plead for reason and justice for an innocent man.  But would we?

As an occupied territory of the Roman Empire, things were mostly peaceful for the people of Judea, all things considered.  But as Herod’s son Archelaus was such a bad ruler, the people rose up in 4 BC and the Romans stepped in and crucified 2,000 Jewish citizens.  2,000!  Within ten years of that atrocity, Jesus was born.  So during his entire lifetime, the memory of 2,000 fellow citizens being crucified for getting on the wrong side of the government would have been a core memory among the people.

The Jewish people had a certain amount of freedom and justice in their occupied land, but they also had a direct memory of what happens when you get on the wrong side of the Roman Empire.  “Should I inform on my neighbor in order to save my own skin?”  “Should I look away when someone speaks ill of the emperor, or should I turn them in for sedition?”  The need to ask yourself questions like this creates an important tool for the oppressors.  Because it divides people from one another.  If I can’t trust my neighbor, if I can’t speak my mind freely, am I really free?  We might call this approach to governing divide and conquer.  The East German Stasi were quite familiar with it.

Back to the scene we just heard.  An innocent man, who has committed no crime, and is here legally has been swept off the street under the cover of darkness.  Hmmm.  He is arrested, mocked, and beaten.  Pilate himself says the man has committed no crime.  The parallels to what our country has been doing to innocent people like Andry Romero are striking.  A gay makeup artist who was scooped up off the street last month, accused of being a dangerous gang member, and sent to a torture dungeon in El Salvador.  Or the Maryland father Kilmar Garcia, whom the government openly admits it mistakenly arrested and sent there, and refuses to bring back despite court orders.

And now I go back to what I said just a few minutes ago.  How did they let this happen?  How did no one speak up?  How is it that not one person was willing to step forward and say, “This is madness!  Make it stop!”  I know we like to think we would have done that.  We like to think that we would step in front of the crowd and plead for reason and justice for an innocent man.  But would we?

Divide and conquer is a powerful motivator.  When we are afraid of our own government, when we are afraid of our neighbors, that makes us feel isolated and alone.  We choose to keep quiet with our head down, lest the Eye of Sauron suddenly sweep across and single us out.  And carrying the memory of 2,000 of your neighbors being crucified would certainly lead a person to act that way.  Just mind your own business and keep quiet.  But then how do we explain the crowd yelling “crucify him” about an innocent man?

I talk a lot about us being unified as the body of Christ in this world.  The people in this gospel story are also unified.  But they are united in fear.  They are united in their compliance to a dangerous government.  People can be united for a variety of reasons.  Think of sports teams, or humanitarian projects, or even television shows.  And people can also be united by fear and hatred.  People can be united in saying, “Please don’t see me.”  Or, “please go pick on and bully that other kid.”  As I say, people can be united for a lot of reasons.

But when we are united as the body of Christ, that is where we find love instead of fear.  Where we find courage instead of cowardice.  Because when we are one in Christ, God is among us.  God goes before us and God surrounds us.  God is behind us and beneath us, and everywhere we look, when we are united in the love of Jesus.

As we live out our lives, there will be times when we are afraid for ourselves and others.  There will be times when we turn inward because we fear the power of evil that surrounds us.  And in those times, we might find ourselves really wanting to just give in and join the crowd yelling “crucify him.”  Times when we might want to circle the wagons and protect ourselves and our family.  It’s honestly easier sometimes to just yell “crucify him” and go home.

But we don’t have to give in to that temptation.  There is another way.  A better way.  A way that brings life out of death.  A way that surrenders to God, and seeks what is good in this world.  A way that listens for the voice of God.  And you are here today because you have heard that voice of God.  You are here on the hardest, most confusing day of the church year, because you recognize this other way.  This better way.

We are the body of Christ in this world.  No matter how much we might disagree and have our differences, we—together—are the body of Christ.  Paul writes in 1 Corinthians, “ Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it.”  And he says, “If the foot would say, 'Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,’ that would not make it any less a part of the body.  And if the ear would say, ‘Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,’ that would not make it any less a part of the body.  If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole body were hearing, where would the sense of smell be?”  We are all different.  Yet we are all one.

It takes all of us to be the body of Christ.  And whatever one of us is going through impacts all the rest of us, because we are one body.  And as that one body, let us choose the way of love and life.  Let us choose not to join the crowd in fear and hatred.  There is a better way.  There is a loving way.  And as the body of Christ, God will guide us on the path that is the better way.  All we have to do is listen. 

Amen.