Dream Five
They’re just sitting there  looking forward     looking ahead   the world seems to be spinning    the sky blue    moving like time lapsed photography    he’d seen stuff like that on television before    but never in a dream    his hands are on his knees    holding himself in from running out of things to say    hers are crossed   legs out    they seem complacent    she seemed relaxed  
 

Dream Eight
She punches him in the arm    he wakes up
 
 
Dream Nine
He stands confused looking around the room for her    she is in a grey cocktail dress made of silk    she holds two drinks out knowing there is a good possibility she will stain the fabric    he knows she’s there    it’s a feeling he has    she knows he has arrived    it’s a feeling she has    she smiles as she turns to catch his eye   he blinks    and she is gone    on the ground are two smashed glasses    bleeding to death in a pool of vodka    the busboy bends down to clean the floor   his tail pops out of his pants   he is not real    but the emptiness is
 

Dream Twelve
he walks up from behind and smells her hair    it smells like sunshine   the day is grey     but she lights up the world   he breaths    his breath warms him    inspiring color to paint his imagination   like a muse to a writer    she whispers  “it due”    as he reaches out his hands     and grabs her from behind     filling his hands with her    she spins    it’s not her    he spins     she returns    they bow to each other and dance    she spins   he bows    she walks away   he is awoken
 

Dream Fourteen
Spread out over weeks    she was no longer there     an affair in full color slipped back into black and white    the lines    no longer blurred   all point in the same direction    what should have been torture turned out to be the best sleep he’d had in a long time
 

Dream Fifteen
He sat in the boat fishing  he doesn’t fish   he pulls out bait    it’s a baby   he cast into the endless water    and waits    then pulls out a child from the water    unhooks it    and drops it on the bottom of his boat   reaching for more bait the child becomes a woman    she hands him his reflection in the water    he is old and grey    retired   and tired   he opens up the bait box     and pulls out another baby   cradling it in his arms until it is a grown woman    another muse
 
 
Dream Twenty
He is alone     and doesn’t remember the dreams from this point on   she is gone   at least for now

So you can see how Mother’s Day can bring up a gamut of emotions. Some joyful. Some painful.  But whether you like your mom or not, or had a good relationship or a painful one, you are here today because of her. So let us honor mothers, for they are us.
 
When my son was four or five he ask, “Who is God’s mom?” That’s a bold move I thought for a minister’s kid. A question like that is bound to incite an impromptu sermon from any pastoral parent. Sparing him the torture, I simply said, “You are.”
 
He told me he couldn’t be God’s mom because he was a boy.  I told him, “You don’t have to be able to get pregnant or have a particular chromosome to bring God into the world.” I think that only confused him more.
 
So, I tried some 13th century theology on him, quoting the great German mystic Meister Eckhart who said, “We are all called to be mothers of God, for God is always waiting to be born.” 
 
This only made matters worse. So, I did something I knew he’d understand. I began to preach. And this is the gist of what I said, “You and me, male and female alike, are called to carry in our bodies the very life of God. It’s our job,” I said, “to give birth to God’s incarnate love in all that we do.”
 
Since then, Sean hasn’t asked anymore deep questions about God. At least not to me. But this gives us some food for thought for today as we take a different look at what it means to be a mother, especially the kind who gives birth to God.
 
This week, CBS News ran a story about a teenage girl named Monyay who aged out of the foster care system last year. As if her senior year of high school was already ruined by the pandemic, now Monyay had to brace herself for spending the rest of her life on her own. That all changed just a few months after turning 18, when she was adopted by Leah Pascalides, a 32-year-old single woman who used to be Monyay’s caseworker.
 
For over six years the two had formed a close friendship; one built on honesty and trust. When asked why she made the decision to make a legal commitment, this new mom said, "I wanted to make sure she knew that she had somebody who loved her."
 
Love is the way we give birth to God. Their story reminds me of a small gesture made in John’s gospel that often goes unnoticed when we talk about the passion of Christ. A story of widows and orphans coming together to form a new kind of family, one that bear the blessings of God’s love into the world.
 
READ:  John 19:25-27
 
In his final act of love, Jesus redefines family and motherhood. On one side is his biological family. And on the other is a family of a different sort, a kind not based on DNA but connected by blood nonetheless.

watch the message here

The Bible doesn’t tell us much about Mary, whom I suspect was only a young girl when God entrusted her to carry and care for the savior of the world. But as a mother we know this: It is Mary who gives Jesus his first taste of life and love. She teaches him how to serve and care for the world in all the ways she cares for him. Mary sets the example for Jesus to follow. The one we’re called to follow.
 
In watching her son be crucified on a cross, Mary realizes how painful and risky it is to bring God’s incarnate love to life. And then there is John, who has been with Jesus since the beginning. He is seeing firsthand the risk he is called to take. I’m sure watching his teacher and dear friend suffer as he did, would have been an emotional experience for John.
 
Perhaps Jesus, knowing Mary’s heart, put them the two together so they would care for one another.

In this one act of compassion, Jesus forms a new kind of family unit – one that shares God’s incarnate love, even though it doesn’t share DNA. Together, this new family will carry and care for Christ in the ways they live out his love in the world.
 
Today our world is hurting, not just from the pandemic, but from the racial unrest, injustice and violence that permeates nearly every community. Now more than ever we need God to be present. And one of the ways God shows up, is in and through us.

So yes, we are called to be mothers of God, because God is always in need of being born. The way we go about doing this is as diverse as the kinds of mothers out there.
 
My best example of motherhood isn’t my mom, or mother-in-law. But the mother of my three children. Since giving birth to our firstborn, Kathleen has been in a perpetual state of sleep deprivation. And yet we can always count on her to show up - with a snack, a story, a kiss for a booboo, or a lesson to learn.

While there are so many different types of mothers out there, Kathleen takes it to a whole new level because she not only cares for the four of us, but she also opens her heart to the world. I believe I’m a better parent and a better person by watching her give birth to God’s love daily.
 
So to those who show up everyday wearing the hats of an EMT, a gourmet chef, a chauffeur, maid or mathematician; to those in the NICU’s and ICU’s of life watching over us and keeping us safe – today is your day, and we honor you with our love.
 
To those who juggle calendars, finish science projects, and make the time to make up stories that make us feel better – today is your day, and we honor you with our love.
 
To all the ones who show up to cheer us on and lift us up when we’re down; to those who are willing to be there when perhaps our own family can’t or won’t; to the ones who are always ready to open their homes and love us as if we were their own – today is your day, and we honor you with our love.
 
To the diversity of mothers, male and female alike, whose hands cradle us, whose hearts love us, whose eyes watch over us, whose ears listen to us – today is your day.
 
To anyone who stands up for what is right, demanding justice and leading us towards the way of peace, we honor you for showing us what incarnate love looks like.
 
You are the ones who give birth to God’s sustaining love, power and presence in the world. You are the ones who carry Christ. With each act of love, you allow him to form and take shape within your womb, and to bring him safely into being.  “We are all called to be mothers of God for God is always waiting to be born.”
 
From his cross, Jesus unites us all, and calls us into a new kind family. One where, like Mary, we are mothers and children at the same time. We are also called to be disciples like John, who will risk it all for the sake of bearing the love of God, a love that is on full display even in the brutality of a Roman cross.
 
By the blood of his cross, we become a part of his bloodline - brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, bearing the love of God inside us.
 
So, the question for you is this: Will you carry God’s love to full term?


*Adapted from various Mother's Day sermons over the years.

Ian Macdonald (1966-) is an American born poet, today. 

It’s not uncommon for Jesus to use the landscape around him to teach ancient scriptures to his followers. Like this one found in John’s gospel about the vineyard and the vine - whose roots come from the prophecies of Isaiah.

Last week, Jesus looked over the green pastures and drew from scripture to describe God as a trusted shepherd caring for his flock. Today, he describes God as a loving and attentive gardener – pruning and preparing us for unbounded glory. 
 
Click here to read John 15:1-8

As Jesus and his disciples leave the upper room to go pray in the Gethsemane garden, they most likely wandered past the vineyards of Kedron. There, among the leafy vines heavy with grapes and the warm glow of the fires burning in the distance, Jesus is inspired to remind his disciples about their relationship with him and with God.
 
We don’t have to know much about vineyards to understand the point Jesus is making when he says, “I am the true vine. And God is the vine-grower.”
 
Scripturally speaking, Israel is described as the vine. By Jesus saying he is the true vine, he’s saying his God’s chosen, the one’s called to bear the fruit of God’s kingdom. But even Jesus understands that he does not do these things alone. God is with him, carefully attending to him and his needs, so the vine, like my apple tree, can bear fruit.​

watch the message here

It’s safe to assume when Jesus tells his disciples, “I am the vine and you are the branches” he is saying the root, stem, leaves, tendrils and grapes are all one part of the vine.

​And any part of the vine that is that isn’t doing its job will be removed and thrown into the fire. Just the same, any part that is bearing fruit will be pruned and shaped to bear more.
 
Although we are free to rove and climb the trellises of life, we can never lose sight of the ever-attentive gardener in our midst. The one who is cutting and pruning to increase the yield of the vine. This tells me that we will all feel the stinging pinch of a sharp pair of pruning shears at some point in life. And even feel the searing heat of the fire.
 
Before you let your mind wander off to some dark and dismal place, I don’t think Jesus is speaking of some fiery eternal pit. He’s looking around and seeing literal fires burning in the distance. Fires that are providing light and heat.

You see, even dead branches have some good use in God’s kingdom. After all, everything that God does is done to give life, and to increase the yield of all that is good in life.
 
Just think about that dead branch being tossed into the fire. What happens to it? Does it burn forever? No. Eventually it transforms into something new. Ash. An avid gardener knows that wood ash is an excellent source of lime and potassium and other things that plants need to thrive.

Let’s not forget what God did with those two wooden branches hewn from a mighty tree and fashioned into Jesus’ cross. They were used by God to transform death into everlasting life.
 
So here we are with Jesus looking at his disciples (mind you, one has already gone off to betray him). Despite their lack of truly getting what he has been telling them about what is to come, he still is able to see their fruit. He tells his disciples, us, that we are part of Jesus, bearers of God’s redemptive fruit.
 
Today we have so many distractions that draw us away from allowing the fruit inside us to bloom. Sometimes the busyness of life keeps us from producing God’s goodness.

Occasionally we will need to be trimmed and pruned if we are going to live into our calling. This means we have to let go of the things that are stopping us from thriving.
 
But how can we do this when we are still hurting from this pandemic? How can we do this when the news around us leaves us spiritually and emotionally drained? Jesus says, “Abide in me as I abide in you.”
 
This is an invitation to attach our lives to his. A life that God has carefully shaped to bear the fruit of the Spirit. Fruit which scripture describes as love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Galatians 5:22-23)

To abide in Jesus is to make his Spirit your greatest priority. The way to do that is to remain close to him - his love and faith.
 
Years ago, I visited a winery in Sonoma Valley up in Northern California. It was there I learned a few things about vineyards, and grape growing. For example, the soil, the climate and all the stress they put the vines through add to the grape’s unique character - which provides the distinctive notes found in a bottle of wine. These flavors are most prominent in the grapes produced closest to the central vine where the nutrients are the most concentrated.
 
 Just as the life of a branch is sustained by being connected with the vine, our lives are sustained through a close relationship with our Lord.  When we are connected to Jesus, when we make our home in him, we are able to draw from his spiritual abundance that helps us bear his fruit – God’s steadfast love.  
 
This can be hard at times. Especially given the world and the issues we face today. There are so many other things there that draw us away from our source of life. But the branches and leaves and tendrils and fruit cannot survive without the vine. For this same reason we need to remain close to the one who feeds our soul and gives us life, if we are to truly live.  
 
Lately, I’ve been struggling. I recently confessed to a friend that I am not really feeling the joy of my ministry anymore; my heart struggles to find words to preach; even my prayers seem empty. As I was naming these issues, I began to see where I have wandered away from my source of life.
 
I confess that I have allowed the pandemic, and politics, and other personal stuff to take my focus off abiding in Christ. This has made it impossible for me to bear any good fruit because I am not being nourished by a healthy source.

Imagine what would happen to my apple tree without water or fertilizer. Not only would it not produce fruit, but it would shrivel up and die. We are not meant for death, but life. And Jesus is the way to living and thriving in this life and beyond.
 
I guess the moral of this story is this: The closer we are to Jesus the stronger our branches of faith become, the better yield of fruit we produce, and the greater the glory we bring to God.
 
Here Jesus is inviting us to take an inventory of our lives. He’s asking us to examine what is...and what isn’t...producing fruits of the Spirit in our lives. His is an invitation to give oneself, the good and the bad, over to God so that we can be shaped and transformed in God’s abiding love.
 
Our goal is not to remain a scrawny, twisted branch. We are called to be become one with the true vine so that we can his bear fruit, and nourish others so they can sprout faith and grow in love.

So, I invite you to look within yourself and ask, “What is going on in my life that is stopping me from really bearing the best yield of my good fruit?”
 
Perhaps it’s a toxic relationship that needs to end. Maybe it’s some deep seated anger you haven’t honestly dealt with; or resentment that you still hold on to.

Maybe you’re jealous of a friend. Or envious of someone else’s life. It could be an addiction, or you’re just wandering along the trellis of life without any real meaning, because you don’t really understand what your purpose is.

There are so many things that draw you away from becoming your best self. Whatever you are dealing with, whatever is stopping you from truly thriving and abiding in God’s love, Jesus says ask God to take it away. And it will be done for you.

To abide in Jesus is to abide in God. To abide in God, is to invite God into the fullness of your life – however messy that may be. It is to welcome and allow God to prune and shape you so that you can produce the sweetest, most heavenly fruit possible.

To abide in God, is to be empowered to transform this world - loving others, living into the mission of the Church, restoring all people to unity with God and each other in Christ.
 
Jesus says, “I am the true vine… abide in me as I abide in you.”

This is not a command, but a reminder of who we are and what we are called to be – beloved children of God, called to a new and wonderful way of living. A way that begins and ends with God’s steadfast and abiding love.
 
As the living embodiment of Christ’s body, we are called to bear the fruit of God’s love always.

This is why we always have to show up. This is why we have to make love our highest goal. We do this by living into our Christlikeness by living out the love of God in all that we do.
 
For God’s love liberates us to live fully and faithfully. It opens our eyes to see the injustices around us and empowers us to act in ways that seek the well-being of all people.

God’s love levels the playing field so that everyone can thrive and rejoice.

It transforms all our messiness into goodness, so all of creation will bear good fruits of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.
 
Therefore let us go and live into the blessedness of life, bearing the fruits that proclaim God’s glory, now and forever. Amen.

 
  
Work Cited
Bartlett, David L. and Barbara Brown Taylor, eds. Feasting on the Word, Year B Vol. 2. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2008.
Montes, Luz Cabrera. How to Love. (accessed May 1, 2021).

Back in 2014 I had the pleasure of preaching to my entire family in at a special service in a very special place. It was in a little church on Colonsay, an island off Western Scotland where my ancestors had emigrated from.
 
I confess I was not very keen on the idea of having to write a sermon while on vacation. And I was even less excited about preaching one in front of my family who disregards pretty much anything I have to say. But my mom had her heart set on attending Sunday service. And unless another minister washed up on shore...well, the responsibility was all mine.
 
This is not to say I didn’t try to get out of doing it. I told my mother that it’s not very kosher to just wander into a church and use it like we owned the place. She reminded me that we are family here, and then pointed to the church sign that said, "welcome all.” When I pointed out the large heavy chain that locked the giant wrought iron gate blocking the front door of the church, my mom just calmly said, “That’s just to keep the sheep out.”  ​

If you were to visit this island, you’d instantly notice the abundance of sheep that roam everywhere. Without any real threats of danger on the island, the folks of Colonsay have taken the concept of free-range to a whole new level.
 
Now, whenever you vacation in a place where the sheep out-number humans 25-to-1, there are some things you need to know.

First, going barefoot really isn’t an option. Second, sheep are shy but not in the way we think. They don’t like humans walking up to them, but have no problem walking up you and taking whatever they want.

I also learned that sheep have no sense of personal space. They will stick their nose into everything – they are forever curious to see what a Scotsman wears under his kilt.

Another thing about sheep is they are not as dumb as we make them out to be.
 
Which brings me back to what my mom said about the giant chain wrapped around the heavy wrought-iron gate. Somewhere in the church’s 200-year history, the sheep had figured out how to unlatch the old wooden door that leads inside. So they put up a gate to keep them out.
 
Let that sink in. The sheep recognized the church as a sanctuary, a safe place to seek shelter from the heavy storms that frequently passed over the island. But for those who like to have a nice and pretty church, did whatever they could to keep them out.
 
The Bible offers so many allegories about shepherds and sheep. The most well-known is probably the 23rd Psalm.  ​

In John’s gospel, Jesus builds upon this poem to describe himself to his trusted disciples. Click here to read John 10:11-18.
 
This reading is part of a series of seven "I Am" statements in John’s gospel that Jesus says to reveal his true self to his disciples. There’s the I am the true vine, I am the bread of life, I am light, I am the way, and today’s "I am the good shepherd."
 
Most of us live in cities and big towns. That means we are far removed from the rural pastures where sheep are often found. However, in 1st century Palestine, sheep and shepherds were a part of the landscape like billboards are today along our highways.

Just as it is on Colonsay, it would have been impossible not to notice them. Even a blind person could tell they were there from their sounds and smells. Thanks to all the sheep, shepherding was a common occupation. A humble one at that. But it could prove to be physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausting work. It was certainly no 9-to-5 gig.
 
As John points out, it takes a to truly special person to fully commit to the duties of the position – to be away from home for weeks on end, to keep track of each animal, to chase after them and lead them away from unstable cliffs and dark ravines. And there was always wolves, thieves, and other threats that might require the shepherd to put his life in harms way to protect the flock.

Not everyone is willing to do this.  But Jesus says, “I Am.”
 
He says, “I am the good shepherd. I will lay down my life for my sheep.” Five weeks into the Easter season, we know what that means. But imagine hearing it for the first time, and then seeing it come into being on the cross. You see, Jesus was not only the good shepherd. He was also the sacrificial lamb.
 ​

How do Jesus’ words speak to you as a follower, a disciple?

Perhaps you see yourself as a sheep? Or maybe as a shepherd?

But do you see yourself as both?
 
Hold on to that thought as I tell you a few more things about sheep. They are nothing like cows. Physical differences aside, cows are herded from the rear; often with the ranch hand shouting and prodding them along. Sheep, on the other hand, prefer to be led.

​Unlike cows, they do not follow blindly as the old maxim suggests. They will only follow the voice of their shepherd.
 
The sheep will follow willingly because the shepherd has built a relationship of trust with them. The shepherd knows which sheep are cranky in the morning, which ones will occasionally bite, lag behind or wander off. 

He knows this because he’s chased after them; fallen in the mud with them; picked thorns from their hoofs. He has learned to love them in spite of their smell, and all their constant noisy bleating and baaing.
 
Many years ago, Pope John Paul II said, “God has thought of us from eternity and has loved us as unique individuals. He has called every one of us by name, as the Good Shepherd calls His sheep by name.” 
 
When Jesus says, "I am the Good Shepherd" he is telling us that he cares for us like God has cared for him. We know that we can trust him and follow him, because we know what he is willing to do for us.  

He understands what we are going through because he has also gone through it himself.He knows what our dark valleys are like, because he has walked through them. He knows how easy it is for us to be scared and scattered by the wolves of this world, that even the most loyal sheep can stray and fall into dark ravines.

Though we are not perfect, our Good Shepherd is always ready to come to our rescue. 
 
But here’s the thing. Jesus is telling this to his disciples, not only to reveal who he is but to inform them of who they are being called to be. Those who follow Jesus’ voice are also called to be like him – to be both a sheep and a shepherd. To be loved and the one who loves. Like Jesus, we are called to lead others to God’s redemptive grace, and to do by abiding in the will of God. That is to say, to love others as God loves us.
 
To be like the Good Shepherd, we must be willing to set aside our self-interests and help others find quiet waters and green pastures. We must be willing to lay down our differences and lead our enemies to the table of peace.

We must care for all of the sheep – feeding them, tending to their needs, and guiding them safely through the darkest valleys. Giving until their cup overflows.

This is the life of sacrificial love, the starting point of our Christian identity. This is what it means to live Christ like, in imitation of the One who came to bring us home to God. Through him, goodness and mercy will follow us all the days of our lives.
 
Mahatma Gandhi famously said, “Where there is love there is life.” Perhaps this is why being a sheep is often more attractive than being a shepherd. A sheep just has to love the shepherd enough to follow him. But the life of the shepherd requires one to love the sheep, no matter the cost.

As C.S. Lewis reminds us, “To love at all is to be vulnerable.” No one knows this better than Jesus, our Good Shepherd.
 
Everything Jesus has done for us is born from the love that he has for us. If we are to be like him, to truly follow him in all the ways of love, then we must resist the urge to live for ourselves, to set aside our own wants and desires in order to help one another; even if it means one must preach a sermon while on vacation. And so I did.
 
As I stood, facing my family sitting in the worn wooden pews of that beautiful old church, a summer storm blew over the island. Outside the window I saw a bunch of wet, smelly sheep moving towards the church...looking for shelter.
 
A strong wind blew hard against the building - causing that metal gate to slam shut. It sent a loud clang reverberating throughout the sanctuary. In it echoed my mother’s words “it’s there to keep the sheep out.” No church should keep the sheep out. Instead we are called to be out there with them. The church isn’t a building. It’s people loving one another.
 
Sometimes you are the sheep, on the receiving end of that love. Other times you are the shepherd - loving those around you. Just as God opened the Easter tomb, revealing to the world the real power of love, so too has Christ opened our hearts.
 
So as you leave here today, as you go out into the world, remember that you are more than just a sheep. You are resurrection people. And in us, and through us, Jesus lives. He lives every time love is manifested through us. And there are so many ways to do this.
 
He lives every time we mask up and help our neighbors struggling through the pandemic.

He lives when we march on our streets, demanding justice and equality for all people.

He lives when everyone of God’s sheep are valued no matter who they love, or who they vote for.

He lives when we welcome the stranger among us, and whenever we care for those lost and frightened sheep we encounter along the way.
 
Whenever we make love come alive in the world, Jesus lives. And so do we.

For that’s what happens when sheep and shepherd become one - one flock dwelling in the house of the Lord all the days of our lives.
 
 
Adapted from a sermon given on May 3, 2015 which you can read here.

If you are a lover of zombie movies this passage could have your head spinning in all sorts of directions.
 
The last time the disciples saw Jesus, he was dead on a Roman cross. Now he’s standing in the room with them. And they are freaking out. Who could blame them? Imagine going to the funeral of a loved one only to come home and find that person in your kitchen eating a bowl of cereal like nothing ever happened.
 
Now, the first thing we learn in this story is - nobody expects Jesus to be here. But all of a sudden, he is. Zombie narrative aside, this is a subtle but important point. As the old saying goes, “It’s best to be good because you never know when Jesus is going to show up.” And trust me, he will.
 
Next, Jesus greets them. “Shalom!” which is loosely translated into English as, “Peace be with you.” A bit ironic don’t you think? It’s hard to find peace when you’re freaking out because the dead one is no longer dead.

In Hebrew “shalom” means much more than “peace.” According to Kirk Kubicek, "It’s a word used to convey that all is well with the world; all is fair, all is just; all is the way God means it to be." I like this idea. So much so, I am going to borrow from it. 
 
You see, all is not well. Not now. Not then. Up until this point, all the disciples know is the bad guys won. They, who are us, watched their teacher be unjustly condemned and wrongfully murdered. Their fear is legit. As far as they know they’re next. But here comes Jesus – showing up to let them know that all is right in the world. This is the way God wants it to go down.

Nevertheless, the disciples are happy to see their teacher again; to embrace him in the flesh. And after their strange reunion is out of the way, Jesus becomes one of us again. He wants to know, “What’s to eat?” 
 
Christ is not only alive. He’s also hungry. And wants us, the disciples, to feed him. The disciples, us, give him some leftover fish. I suspect this isn’t what Jesus is hankering for. Because after he eats, Luke says Jesus opens their minds to understand the scriptures.  
 
Jesus isn’t hungry for food. He’s hungry for our well-being. He wants to make sure that we understand the word of God, what the laws and the prophets speak of, because it’s in there  we find all the ways to make everything is right in the world - the way God means it to be. Jesus takes the fish but feeds us scripture so we will always hunger for what is just and right.
 
This is important because this had not been the case with most of the religious teachers in Jesus’ day. Jesus was upset with the ways his religious contemporaries were using scripture to their advantage.

Kubicek writes, “Instead of bringing God’s people, all people, together, the administration and understanding of God’s 638 rules, beginning with the First Ten, was being used to separate people more than bring them together.”

watch the message here

Let’s be honest. What ticked off Jesus then still ticks off Jesus today.

Think about all the times you’ve heard Christians slice up Scripture to validate why it’s okay for them to discriminate and exclude others from worshiping God? To borrow from Jesus, they notice the speck in someone else’s eyes but cannot see the log that’s in their own (Matthew 7:3).
 
As we have come to see in recent years, such behavior pushes people away from the church and from receiving God’s unconditional love. This is not the way to bring about God’s shalom in the world, is it?
 
Christ is alive. And Christ is hungry. Hungry for justice, fairness, and equality for all people – not some people, not most people, not lots of people. But all people. As churches are battling it out over “who’s in and who’s out,” the world is starving, literally and figuratively, for the way God means it to be.  The way of peace, the way of love.
 
In everything Jesus did, he did to open our eyes and hearts to the way of God’s never-ending love. And now he’s calling us to use this love to satisfy the hunger of the world. He made that perfectly clear when he said that the hungry were to be fed; the naked clothed; the prisoner visited; the sick made well; the stranger welcomed (Matthew 25:31-46).
 
This Jesus, the one who identified himself as the foreigner mother pleading for her child’s life, the one who saw his reflection in the eyes of the cheating tax collector, the leper cast out from society, the war vet begging on the street, and the frightened prostitute crying out for hope.
 
This Jesus who we have come to worship and glorify today – the one who took our pain and suffering as his own, the one who sat with the dying and wept with the bereft – never turned away from people. He turned towards them. He made sure everyone had their fill of God’s loving grace. Even as they killed him.
 
You see this Jesus – who is hungry for something more than a piece of broiled fish – actually meant it when he said, “What you do to them, you do also to me”? 
 
Earlier I said, “you never know when Jesus is going to show up.” But here’s the truth. Jesus doesn’t show up unexpected. He shows up in the other. He comes to us every day – alive and hungry. But who’s going to feed him?
 
How will we respond when we see him? Afraid, in disbelief? We can pretend Easter was something that has come and gone, as if it is no longer relevant. Or we can feast on the words of Jesus who says, “Repentance and the forgiveness of sins are to be proclaimed …to all nations, all persons.”
 
Jesus tells the disciples, who are us, “You are a witnesses of these things.” But will we go out and feed the world as living witnesses to this Shalom he speaks of and died for? Or will we simply offer him a piece of leftover fish? (Kubicek)
 
As you leave here today, I hope you will remember that Christ is here, offering you God’s shalom. This is not a greeting. It’s a call to participate in God’s kingdom.

We are his church, a holy body broken for the world. He calls us to make our lives, our homes and churches, a place where all people are not only welcomed but fed, nourished, and satisfied with the redemptive love of God’s grace and mercy given to all through Christ Jesus.
 
St. Augustine said it like this. “You are the body of Christ. In you and through you the work of the incarnation must go forward. You are to be taken; you are to be blessed, broken, and distributed; that you may be the means of grace and the vehicles of the eternal love.”
 
For some reason Christ has made us a partner in his ministry. So it’s my hope for you, his beloved, that you will go out from here, fearlessly and faithful, to be who God has called you to be.
 
A holy and sacred feast for a very hungry world. 
 
 
 
 
Work Cited
 Kubicek, Kirk Alan. Jesus Is Hungry. (April 19, 2015).