Reflection on Luke 24:13-35

"Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?" 

That is what two of Jesus’ followers enthusiastically declared after they discovered that their crucified teacher had spent the entire day walking with them, and they did not even know.  They did not know that it was Jesus who walked with them, but that did not matter; their hearts were still burning within while Jesus opened the scriptures to them. 

I hope and pray that Jesus has used the scriptures to light a fire just like that within your heart at some point in your faith journey.  I remember the first time that a particular scripture burned as an incredible fire within me. 

I was in college and like many other students in college; I spent a lot of time not going to church.  So, let us just say that the opportunities for the scriptures to open up to me were very…should we say…non-existent.  Almost anyway. 

Sleeping was the main thing that I accomplished on Sunday mornings…so at least I got that part of the Sabbath commandment correct.  But, every once and a while one of my friends would pull me out of bed and drag me along to the large city church where her Uncle was the pastor.  More to the point, I was one of the only people with a car within our group of friends, so if she wanted to see her Uncle, I would have to drive. 

That is not a bad evangelism strategy, by the way. 

And, it was there, on one of those tired Sunday mornings, while I walked into the enormous church wearing my t-shirt and sweat jacket…barely a comb put through my hair…where Jesus set my heart on fire.

To tell you the truth, I was not really even paying attention to the church service.  The pastor who was preaching that morning…not my friend’s uncle…was going on and on about fishing and trying to relate it to the scriptures while simultaneously bragging about the size of his catch that weekend.  This is not an uncommon thing in Minnesota.  But, somewhere in his mess of stories he quoted some scripture and Jesus drew my attention like a magnet to that tiny piece of scripture.  I remember clearly, it was 1 John 4:7-21:

“Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love.”

“God is love.” 

“God is love,” I thought to myself.  “Wait, if God is love, then wherever I see love, then God is right there.”

The idea blew my mind in the same way that a kindergartener’s mind is blown when they find out that their teacher does not live in the school but, instead, does things like go to the grocery store. 

I have to admit that during that time in college, not only did I feel pretty distant from God…not joining with God’s people for worship certainly did not help…but, maybe because of that, God felt pretty distant from me.  I did not ever really feel that God was walking with me.  The thought of Jesus Christ being my close friend was quite foreign. 

I thought of God more as a Creator God who just sort of sets all the worlds spinning around their stars and steps back saying, “Looks good,” and then goes and takes a snooze. 

But, if it is true that “God is love,” that means that God is right there with me whenever love is present. 

Jesus was with me the entire time!  I could not believe this revelation! 

I was one of the disciples who discovered Jesus standing very near while he preached and broke the bread.  I was one of the disciples who ran all the way to Jerusalem, seven whole miles, in order to proclaim how the Lord had made himself known. 

My heart burned with the truth that everywhere I went, I saw love.  Therefore, everywhere I went, I saw God. 

When a grandma picked up her grandchild on the sidewalk and hugged her with all her strength, I saw God. 

When two friends decided to go out for pie at Perkins after weeks of hatred had separated them, and they came back laughing and skipping down the sidewalk, I saw God. 

And, when my grandma called me out of the blue to see how I was doing on a particularly stressful day of test and papers due (How did she know?), I saw God. 

I knew that I was surrounded by God, because I knew that I was surrounded by love.

That is what happens when Jesus chooses to show up.  That is what happens when you have lost your teacher and friend, and they come back to walk with you, and draw you out of the pit of despair.  That is what happens when Jesus chooses to walk with you, and open up the scriptures to you, and then chooses to dine with you.  Your heart is set ablaze, and that fire spreads for miles…all the way back to Jerusalem.

Now, I do not know where you are in life right now.  I do not know if the anxiety of the world has taken hold of you or if you are simply bored out of your mind.  I do not know if you are lonely or if you are praying to have just one moment alone…even the bathroom is not sacred when you have little kids. 

I do not know any of these things, but there is one person who has joined you on the road who does.  Jesus shows up, even before we realize it.  Jesus opens the scriptures to us and lights our hearts ablaze even before we can claim to believe.  Jesus shows up and feeds us and sustains us, before we can even shout an “Alleluia.”  Jesus shows up and changes our lives, before we even know it. 

And, I pray that Jesus shows up to walk next to you…to open the eyes that may have been previously blind…to give hope on the long road…and to show you a love that would go all the way to the cross.  I pray that you might head out today with a fire in your heart and an eternal love in your soul.  And, may you recognize the one who has been walking with you the entire time, Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.

Reflection on John 20:19-31

Everyone deals with grief and fear in different ways.  Some people close themselves away from the rest of the world, lying on their beds, catching up on unseen episodes of Star Trek Discovery, while eating popcorn and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, and drinking glass after glass of whole milk. 

You say that sounds awfully specific, Pastor Jira?  Come on!  I am certain there are thousands of people who fit that description exactly…I hope.  Who is not going to come out of this quarantine needing a good marathon, or fifteen, to set their health straight again?

While many people want to be left alone, when other people grieve they want to gather with others, sharing their stories.

Still, other people will head off to work, or go running, or go do any number of things that will help them to push back the pain of the loss.

And, in the Bible we see all of the above.  Well, maybe not the Star Trek and Reese’s part, but right in the story following Jesus’ death and resurrection we see the disciples in varied states of grief as they work through the loss of the single most important person in their lives: Jesus. 

Most of the disciples choose to close themselves away.  They lock themselves away in grief and in fear of those who put Jesus to death.  They were Jesus followers, and it is not unheard of for disciples to suffer the same fate as their teacher.

So, there they are, locked away, doing nothing productive in the world.  You know what I think the disciples actually need at this point?  I think they need someone to show up and give them a good shove out the door.  I think they need a good kick in the rear end to get them off of their sorrow filled posteriors and out into the world again.

Jesus is not like me. 

Jesus knows exactly what these grief and fear stricken people of God need.  It is not a good kick in the back end.

"Peace be with you.” That is the first thing that Jesus says. 

This is no mistake or mere formality on the part of Jesus.  He understands the way we are and understands what we need.

When I am suffering behind closed doors from the continuous loop of memories mixed with regrets brought on by grief, the first thing I actually need is for the guilt and worries to disappear.  You also?  I need my mind to stop worrying about the time that I brutally chastised my father for turning my white socks pink in the wash, all because he was just trying to do something nice to a college student whom he missed. I need that kind of guilt to disappear.  And, the first words out of Jesus’ mouth when he enters our locked rooms and our locked minds are, “Peace be with you.”

With peace falling over the disciples, Jesus then offers a second gift.  Jesus gives them the gift of purpose. 

When you are wrapped up in grief, you are inherently wrapped up in yourself.  And, that is actually fine.  That is how grief works.  We need to be wrapped up in ourselves for a bit, in order to work out all the confusion that comes when you feel lost from a loved one…when you feel lost in life. 

But, the way we start to ground ourselves in normal life again is to have a purpose.  A purpose turns us outside of ourselves.  A purpose helps to realign us in the ways of God, causing us to look to the needs of the neighbor rather than solely to our own needs.

“As the Father has sent me, so I send you," Jesus tells the disciples.  Jesus gifts them the same mission that he, himself undertook.  It is a mission of healing and sharing the good news that they already know very well. 

In a time of tragic loss, Jesus provided a good friend with the purpose of creating works of art.  This person needed light in their world, so this person painted that light in sharply contrasting rays of yellows and deep blues.  This person gave each remarkable painting away to loved ones who were struggling in a similar way.  This friend was given a mission from Jesus Christ, the light of the world, to shine a light in the darkness.  And, in undertaking the mission, this person was actually touched by the light of the world.

Then there is this funny gift of breath that Jesus gives the disciples. 

Though children piling on me in the morning to awaken me is usually a picture perfect gift of family love, the onslaught on children’s morning breath certainly is not. 

Jesus’ breath, however, is not that sort of breath.  Rather, it is the same breath that gave life to the world at the very start.  It is the breath that continues to blow life and love onto the world.  It is the breath that blows the dirt off of a wounded and stained soul. 

Jesus breathes this very wind on the disciples and proclaims, "Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained."  As any asthmatic knows well, without breath, we are nothing.  Conversely, when we are filled with Jesus’ breath, we have it all.

There is one person missing from all of this healing.  There is one person who grieves in a very different way.  Thomas does not lock himself away.  Thomas is the get out and do something sort of griever.  And, because he was out and about, he was not present that Sunday morning to receive the gifts of peace, purpose, and breath.  And, without the gifts…well, in his own words, "Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe." 

Without the gifts, the grief continues.  Without the gifts, he cannot believe.  Losing his savior once was enough.  There is no reason to build up any hope a second time.  Perhaps, just he cannot.  Perhaps, he just does not have the energy.

And, that is why what happens next is pure gift.  The very next Sunday, while Thomas was with the disciples, Jesus chooses to shows up, just for him.  "Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe."  The gift that Thomas gets is Jesus himself.  And, having Jesus, he receives that precious gift of faith and trust.

And, I guess that is what I pray for you today.  As these days of quarantine get long and the grief starts to mount, I pray that Jesus shows up behind your closed doors.  I pray that you be given the sudden gift of peace, purpose, and that life-giving breath.  I pray that the wind of the Spirit blow through your spaces and raise you to new life.

Reflection on John 20:1-11

There are some truths of life that hit me quite strongly in this Easter Story from John. 

The first thing that struck me is the fact that grief has decided to ravage Mary in the middle of the night.  Did you notice?  It is still night when Mary goes to the tomb to grieve. 

Grief has never been a kind sleeping partner.  Grief does not share the bed well.  Grief is restless, stretches a lot, and eventually boots you out of the comfort of your bed.  The night is a lonely, lonely time.  And, Mary is alone when she goes, soul full of grief, to the tomb of the Lord.

I do not know about you, but even though we have been stuck within the comfort of our homes and beds over the last few weeks, the nights have not lent themselves to great sleep.  There is plenty to worry about in the world.  There are plenty of people to worry about in the world.  And, for some reason, grief has decided to show up in the middle of the night, the loneliest of lonely times.

Speaking of loneliness, I see another truth in life in this story: just because you are surrounded by people does not mean you are not lonely.  When Mary discovers that the tomb is empty, she runs and tells Peter and the disciple that Jesus loved.  So, for a brief moment in time anyway that early, early morning, Mary was not alone.  There were others with her. 

But, it made no difference.  It was as if she were invisible.  The two disciples checked on the tomb as requested, and the disciple that Jesus loved even peered in and believed.  Now, did that disciple’s belief and hope spread to the one who found herself wracked by grief, alone in a graveyard in the middle of the night?  Like I said, just because you are surrounded by people, does not mean that loneliness is not present.

And, this Easter especially, where we are not allowed to gather with family and friends because of fears of spreading this deadly virus, the image toward the end of the story of Mary not being allowed to touch her Lord, even after he had joyfully revealed himself to her, is awfully poignant.  She cannot give the man she loves and trusts a hug, and neither can we. 

In my own family, a family member has seemingly returned from the dead.  An accident with a tree, leading to a coma, has reversed itself, and the family member is, thank the Lord, recovering.  But, his own wife and children cannot visit him.  They cannot touch him.  They cannot give him a hug.  They can only wave at him through the window of his rehabilitation facility.  They can put their hands up to the glass and touch, yet they do not connect.  They are so close, yet they are so distant. 

And, I have to admit that life with the risen Lord Jesus sometimes feels like that.  It feels as if he is so close, yet we are not allowed to grasp him.  He is present, filling us with divine love, but he is not touchable.  There is always an element of ungraspability in our faith that, like seeing the family member through the glass, allows us to experience the hope and love of Jesus, yet always is just beyond the grasp of our hands or our hearts.

The good news in all of this is that Jesus is, none-the-less there.  Right?  In the loneliness of the grief stricken darkness, Jesus is indeed there in the background, approaching.  Mary was not forgotten, and neither are you. 

While dwelling in the loneliness of other people who seem to completely ignore us and our needs, Jesus is there bearing witness to it all.  He still sees.  He still knows. 

And, especially when we reach the lowest of low points in life and we cry out like Mary, “They have taken away my Lord!” and the Lord, indeed, appears to have vanished from our sight, Jesus actually could not possibly be any closer to us, right there in the anguish with us, calling out our name from an unfamiliar body in an unfamiliar place. 

Mary thought Jesus was the gardener, but she did not understand how the Lord shows up in our lives.  No, she was not talking to the gardener, she was talking to Jesus. 

Jesus is right there during it all.  And, even though we cannot grasp him, though his flesh is not huggable, he has, none-the-less made himself and his undying love known to us.

And, though there is a lot of anguish in this story that is familiar, I hope that the last part of the story strikes you as familiar in a good way.  It is the part where Jesus brings Mary out of her sorrow and draws her into the joy of hope and new life. 

I hope and pray that you too will be able to shout out, “I have seen the Lord” and give praise to the one who could not be held down by death and sorrow.  May you too recognize the Lord in the unfamiliar places, and shout out praises to his holy name when you recognize him and his love. 

May you rise up from the ground with Jesus, because he could not possible any closer to you than he is right now.

Reflection on Matthew 28:1-10

Happy Easter everyone!  Jesus Christ is risen! 

I am not sure how that sounds to all of you this year.  Most years when we shout those words we are surrounded with scores of other believers and join together in shouts of joy and exuberance.  We normally shout those words out with the same sort of joy that the women had as they ran from the tomb; the world’s first apostles who set out to share the good news of Jesus’ resurrection.

But, this year is different.  This year we celebrate Easter, closed up in our homes.  We celebrate the same way Jesus’ disciples did, hidden away in small groups, behind closed doors, afraid to go out because the possibility of death lingers near.

And death does linger.  I do not know about you, but it is now a morning ritual to wake up, check the state’s health website, and see how many people have died from COVID-19.  I also check to see how many people have been affected recently in our own county.  I then scroll social media, checking up on friends and family who have been affected directly, to see how they are faring.  Are they making it, or has death lurked near their doors?  There is plenty about which to be afraid!

And, I do not know about you, but when I go out to run essential errands, I have been more than obsessive with cleaning the shopping card and avoiding other people around. 

I do not want to bring this thing home to my wife and the kids under my care, two of whom have respiratory issues.  I wash my hands multiple, multiple times a day, and when I cannot, I squirt that strong smelling sanitizer into my hands.  I really, truly desire that I had the foresight to invest in the leading hand sanitizer company.  Riches have once again eluded me.  Darn you world economics!  This is typical for a guy like me.   

I do find comfort in the fact that the first disciples were riddled with fear.  Not that I want anyone to be riddled with fear, but it is nice to know that I am not alone in my anxiety. 

Not only do I find comfort in the fact that I am not alone, I also find comfort in the words of that angel who descended from the heavens, accompanied by an earthquake, and a huge, rolling stone that moves out of the way as if by magic to reveal the empty interior of Jesus’ tomb. 

“Do not be afraid,” the angel shouts.  The guards have already been immobilized by fear, but the women are encouraged by God’s messenger to allow their heart rates to fall.

But, I have to admit that instructions to simply “not be afraid” rarely do the trick.  How many times have the words “Don’t be afraid” calmed the fears of a child as they entered the haunted house at Knoebel’s for the first time?  Never!  How many times has the same injunction relieved your deepest anxiety?  Not a chance. 

I am pretty sure that what does the trick for the women on that Easter morning are the words that the angel says following the injunction.  They are the words that disperse the fog of fear which lingers.  They are the words that fill these first apostles’ hearts with joy.  And, they are the words that we still need to hear today whenever we feel trapped by our fears.  “I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified.  He is not here; for he has been raised.”

Death does not get the last word in all of this.  Jesus, the savior of the world, cannot be snuffed out that easily.  A grave cannot hold him down.  Sin and death cannot push him into the ground and keep him there.  Life wins.  The Spirit of the Lord wins.  Love wins.  Fear does not get to dictate the movements of the Spirit within. 

I know that in this time of uncertainty you are looking for Jesus to guide the way.  Do not be afraid.  The one who was crucified has been raised!  And, just as the angel told the women I say to you, “he is going ahead of you…there you will see him.” 

So, where is the savoir of the world in all of this mess?  The angel says that he is ahead of us! 

He is where we are going. 

He is up ahead, creating life along the way. 

He is there, giving comfort and care to the grieving, giving new life to the dead, bringing forgiveness to the strained, and bringing healing to the broken.  He is ahead you as you try to figure out the next move in life. 

You do not journey out alone.  He is there, both at the end of the path and along the way.  He is ahead of you, preparing a place for you where you can have life, and have it abundantly. 

That promise is what causes the women to move from frozen fear to exuberant joy.  That promise is what became glued to the hearts of those first apostles.  And that promise is the gift that Jesus has for you during this time of anxiety and daily fear. 

Look ahead, beyond the fear, Jesus is there. 

Alleluia!  Jesus Christ is risen!  Christ is risen indeed, Alleluia!

Reflection on John 13:1-17, 31b-35, A Sermon In Seven Sentences

He tied the mask around his face even though it was a ridiculous, bright, yellow and white, daisy print, and he walked into the hardware story; a simple act of love for the protection of others.

She walked into the hospital, donning freshly cleansed scrubs, even though she feared the invisible threat might cling to her and hitch a ride home to her family; an act of love for the healing of those who suffer.

The child washed her hands, humming “Jesus Loves Me” slowly as she rubbed her palms, between her fingers, and across the back of her hands; an act of love so that the unclean might not touch the clean.

The teen drew the tic-tac-toe board on his grandmother’s window with washable marker; an act of togetherness and connection in a time of separation.

They are all images that echo the acts of the one who stooped down to wash his disciple’s feet; an act of love by the very real hands of the disciple’s very real God.

God is here, in these acts of loving sacrifice.

Wherever you see love, you see God; for God is love.