Sunday, April 26, 2015

The earthliness of Easter

THIRD SUNDAY AFTER EASTER
(Jubilate)

Readings:

Key Verses (using the World English Bible):
1 Pet. 2:25: “You were going astray like sheep; but now have returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.”
John 10:14: “I am the good shepherd.  I know my own, and I’m known by my own.”

Reflection

Last Wednesday, April 22nd, was Earth Day.  The annual event is not only a worldwide celebration of the beautiful planet we live on ("this fragile earth, our island home”, as the Book of Common Prayer puts it), but also an opportunity to increase awareness of human influences on our environment.  At first I wasn’t quite sure about the significance behind the date.  Did it have to do with the Sun entering the tropical sign of Taurus, an earth sign, around this time? As it turns out, there’s actually a more practical reason behind it.  Late April is an excellent time to get people’s attention in the U.S., as Easter and Passover are usually over, school exams and breaks aren’t in the way, and the weather is usually gorgeous!

For us, this means Earth Day will fall during the Easter Season a little over 90% of the time.  It’s a rather odd mixture: Jesus’ supernatural resurrection alongside a celebration of the natural world.  But, while we may spiritualize the otherworldliness of Easter, the Gospels show us a resurrection that is very this-worldly, very earthly.  Last week, the risen Christ almost pleaded with his listeners to understand this: “See my hands and my feet, that it is truly me.  Touch me and see, for a spirit doesn’t have flesh bones, as you see that I have.” (Luke 24:39).  This Jesus can be touched; he can cook breakfast, break bread at dinner; he can even consume food.  Jesus may have been raised into a spiritual body that can walk through shut doors, but everything he does is grounded in this world.

We overlook these details, I think, for two main reasons.  The first is to be expected—we tend to focus on the miracle.  Especially after the agony of Good Friday, we savor Jesus’ final display of power over death and nature.  The tale ends with the triumph of good over evil, and our storytelling expectations are satisfied.  But the second reason is a little more subtle, and perhaps harder to admit—because, I mean, when we sit down with our Bibles and read these post-resurrection stories, isn’t there a part of us that whispers that this is all just too good to be true? That it’s too fantastical to have actually happened?  A risen Jesus who eats and can be touched?  In this case, it’s much easier to focus on the ghostly and spiritual rather than on the physical and tangible. 

But today we have the image of Jesus as the “Good Shepherd”, putting his life out on the line to care for and protect his sheep.  It’s a very pastoral image, conjuring scenes of sheep grazing out on the open grass, under a quiet, sunny day, under the ever-watchful eye of a man, holding a shepherd’s rod.  It’s also a very old image.  Psalm 23, one of the best known songs of Hebrew Scripture, begins simply with “The Lord is my shepherd: I shall lack nothing.”  God causes us to lie down in green pastures, leads us beside still waters, comforts us with his shepherd’s rod, prepares a meal for us and feeds us to overflow.  I don’t think it gets any more earthly than this.  And through this lens of very down-to-earth imagery, Easter teaches us that resurrection can definitely be understood.

Resurrection is real.  It can be found in this world, right here, right now.  Every morning, we rise again from sleep, the closest thing to death we’ll ever know in life.  Every morning is a new beginning, a new chance to live.  Every day, we have the occasion to see and touch each other’s wounds, and offer one another a healing meal.  And every time our minds stray from this truth, Easter will return us to the One who is the Shepherd of our souls—back to those green pastures and still waters, through which God wants to walk with us.  This is how we will come to know God, even as God already knows us.

Prayer of the Day

O God,
to those who are in error,
you show the light of your truth,
that they may return to the Way.
Grant that all who are admitted
into the fellowship of Christ’s religion
may spew out all that is hostile to its name,
and follow all such things as are agreeable to the same;
through the same Jesus Christ our Lord,
who lives and reigns with the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever.
Amen.

—Collect for the Third Sunday after Easter, adapted by Joseph A. Soltero from the 5th century Gelasian Sacramentary, and the Book of Common Prayer, 1662

O God,
your Son Jesus is the good shepherd of your people.
Grant that when we hear his voice
we may know him who calls us each by name,
and follow where he leads;
who, with you and the Holy Spirit, lives and reigns,
one God, for ever and ever.
Amen.

—Collect for the Fourth Sunday of Easter, Book of Common Prayer, 1979

(Words: Henry Williams Baker, 1821-1877, from Psalm 23; adapted by Joseph A. Soltero, 2015
Tune: ‘St. Columba’, Irish melody)

The King of love my shepherd is,
Whose goodness fails me never.
I nothing lack if I am his,
And he is mine for ever.

Where streams of living water flow,
My soul restored, he leads me;
And where the verdant pastures grow,
With food from heaven feeds me.

Perverse and foolish oft I strayed,
But yet in love he sought me;
And on his shoulder gently laid,
And home, rejoicing, brought me.

In death’s dark vale I fear no ill
With you, dear Lord, beside me.
Your rod and staff my comfort still,
Your cross before to guide me.

You spread a table in my sight,
Anointing grace bestowing;
And oh, what transport of delight
From your pure cup is flowing!

And so through all my length of days
Your goodness fails me never.
Good Shepherd, may I sing your praise
Within your house for ever.

Sunday, April 19, 2015

Déjà vu

SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EASTER
(Misericordias Domini)

Readings:

Key Verses (using the World English Bible):
Acts 10:40-41: Peter said, “God raised [Jesus] up the third day, and gave him to be revealed, not to all the people, but to witnesses who were chosen before by God, to us, who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead.”
Luke 24:30-31: “When [Jesus] had sat down at the table with them, he took the bread and gave thanks.  Breaking it, he gave it to them.  Their eyes were opened, and they recognized him, and he vanished out of their sight.”

Reflection

I think most people, at one time or another, have experienced déjà vu, the odd, eerie feeling that you’ve done something before, but you just can’t remember when, or even if.  What makes the experience even more unsettling is that it comes as suddenly as it disappears.  When it’s over, we’re left wondering whether we indeed were recalling a past event, or just living out a figment of our own imagination.

Today’s Gospel reading reads to me as a kind of two-millennia-old déjà vu experience.  We rewind to the evening after the Resurrection.  Two hitherto unknown disciples directly encounter the risen Jesus—except they don’t recognize him.  We’re not told why.  Was it was divine intervention (as my NIV Study Bible says)? Were they just unable to get a good look at Jesus because of the crowds?  Or was it their own grief?  “We were hoping,” they say, “that it was he who would redeem Israel.”  Losing hope is certainly one of the most disorienting things that can happen to any person.

Jesus, still unrecognizable, doesn’t exactly offer them the most comforting words at first, but he does offer the comfort of the Scriptures, claiming that these things had to happen.  In other words, the horror of Good Friday, and the joy of Easter, are equal parts of God’s bigger purpose, God’s benevolent plan.  Then, at the disciples’ house, the stranger took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it, and gave it to his disciples.  And if you’ve heard that from somewhere before, that’s the point.  It’s the Eucharist.  It’s Jesus.  And he vanishes out of their sight.  Déjà vu.

There’s a striking contrast between this story and last week’s featuring “Doubting Thomas”.  If last week’s “soundbyte” was something like, “I have to see and know before I act”, then this week’s is more like, “I act before seeing and knowing”, maybe even “without seeing and knowing”.  Thomas is paralyzed by doubt and mistrust.  And while we agreed that Thomas’ story shouldn’t be read as a reprimand for questioning, yet the possibility remains that, had it not been for Jesus, Thomas might’ve likely remained in spiritual paralysis.

Not so with today’s disciples.  As they walked with this stranger, it grew dark, and so they urged him: “Stay with us, for evening is at hand, and the day is past.”  Without even knowing it, they just said a prayer.  No wonder those words lend themselves so easily to Evening Prayer (you knew you’d heard them somewhere before, didn’t you?).  In their grief and shock, they didn’t forget to show hospitality to strangers, and ended up entertaining the Lord without knowing it (cf. Heb. 13:2).  Without seeing this stranger for who he was, they still broke bread with them, and that’s what opened their eyes.

The post-Resurrection appearances of Jesus are some of the most mysterious and elusive accounts we have in our Scripture.  But they teach us that the risen Christ is present in the broad and complete spectrum of human experience.  He appeared to those who never lost faith in him.  He appeared to those who questioned and even challenged him.  He appeared to those who couldn’t see him in the person standing before them.  And he even appeared to those who persecuted him.  Two thousand years later, we can't even be sure what Jesus actually looked like.  But we know where we will always find him: in Scripture, in companionship, hospitality, and the breaking of bread.

Prayer of the Day

Lord Jesus, stay with us,
for evening is at hand
and the day is past.
Be our companion in the way,
kindle our hearts, and awaken hope,
that we may know you
as you are revealed in Scripture
and the breaking of bread.
Grant this for the sake of your love.
Amen.

—“A Collect for the Presence of Christ”, from the Book of Common Prayer, 1979, p. 124

O Lord our God,
you let your Son stoop down to earth
in order to lift up the broken world with him.
Grant to your people perpetual joy,
and cause them whom you have pulled
out of the fall of everlasting death
to be able to live and breathe in eternal joy;
through your Son Jesus Christ,
who lives and reigns with you
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever.
Amen.

—Collect for the Second Sunday after Easter; translated by Joseph A. Soltero from Den Danske Salmebog (The Danish Hymnal, 2003), adapted from the “Lund Missal” (1514)

(Words: Cyril A. Alington, 1872-1955; stanza 5 altered by Norman Mealy, 20th century; adapted by Joseph A. Soltero, 2015
Tune: ‘Gelobt sei Gott’ by Melchior Vulpius, 1560?-1616)

Good Christians all, rejoice and sing!
Now is the triumph of our King!
To all the world glad news we bring:
Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!

The Lord of life is ris’n today!
Sing songs of praise along his way;
Let all the earth rejoice and say:
Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!

Praise we in songs of victory
That love, that life which cannot die,
And sing with hearts uplifted high:
Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!

Your Name we bless, O risen Lord,
And sing today with one accord
The life laid down, the life restored:
Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!

To God the Father, God the Son,
To God the Spirit, Three-in-One,
We sing for life in us begun:
Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!

Sunday, April 12, 2015

The reward of doubt

FIRST SUNDAY AFTER EASTER
(Quasimodo Geniti; Low Sunday)

Readings:

Key Verses (using the World English Bible):
1 John 5:10b: “He who doesn’t believe God has made him a liar, because he has not believed in the testimony that God has given concerning his Son.”
John 20:27-28: “[Jesus] said to Thomas. ‘Reach here your finger, and see my hands.  Reach here your hand, and put it into my side. Don’t be unbelieving, but believing.’  Thomas answered him, ‘My Lord and my God!’”

Reflection

Thomas has, for the most part, gotten a bad rap in Christianity.  Today’s Gospel story is his signature story, why he’s known as “Doubting Thomas.”  It’s not a compliment, and it’s not entirely undeserved.  Thomas’ insistence that he will never believe unless he touches Jesus’ wounds comes across as rather defiant.  We of course know that Jesus has risen from the dead.  We also know, from just a few verses earlier, that he appeared to the other disciples and showed them his wounds.  So Thomas’ challenge reads almost as if he’s trying to put God to the test, something which the Bible says is a “no-no”.  From here, it’s such an easy leap to conclude that the moral of the story is that God requires belief, and it is wrong, maybe even sinful, to be a “doubting Thomas.”

And indeed Christianity has made this kind of leap—a literal “leap of faith”, which eventually came to define the religion.  The classic creeds of fourth-century Christianity, while beautiful, cherished, and even poetic expressions of faith, were originally intended to be a list of correct beliefs, a test to determine who’s “in” and who’s “out”.  Down to our own day, early 20th-century Fundamentalist Christianity narrowed the list down to just five simple statements that require absolute belief.  There can be no “doubting Thomases” in this worldview.  “Stop doubting and believe,” as the New International Version translates Jesus’ words.

This diametric opposition between belief and doubt is probably the major reason that a lot of people have left the Church.  Doubting is discouraged, and why stay in something you don’t believe in?  And yet neither of these concepts is actually present in today’s readings.  In the New Testament, “belief” and “faith” are closer to our concepts of “trust” and “confidence”.  That’s why James can say that demons also believe that God exists—they believe, though they obviously don’t put their trust in him.  That’s why John’s community, in today’s Epistle reading, argues that not believing God is tantamount to calling God a liar.  Not confiding in someone suggests something deceptive about that person's character.  In the New Testament, the opposite of faith was not doubt, but faithlessness or distrust. 

So with that in mind, let me suggest another reading of this story.  Thomas returns (from wherever he was) to overjoyed cries of “We have seen the Lord” from his friends.  Yes, Jesus said he would rise again, but there are other possibilities too.  What if they just saw a grief-induced hallucination?  What if Jesus’ body was stolen?  It’s a genuine concern; the chief priests’ feared that Jesus’ body might be stolen to deceive the crowds.  Surely if they could think of it, someone else could too, but this time to deceive the disciples.  Whatever the reason, Thomas doesn’t trust his friends, their senses, nor the multitudes of Passover pilgrims in the city.  And can you blame him after Good Friday?  He needs proof.

And then the most extraordinary and wonderful thing happened.  Jesus meets Thomas exactly where he is, in the midst of doubt, uncertainty, and even a little defiance.  And Jesus grants Thomas’ wish.  He didn’t even let Mary Magdalene touch him, and he merely showed his wounds to his disciples.  There is no reprimand for doubting, no punishment for questioning, only a plea for trust.  This very intimate and personal interaction leads to one of the simplest yet deepest of Christological affirmations ever to come out of the mouth of a disciple.  Thomas cries out, “My Lord and my God!”  It would appear that Thomas, too, received the Holy Spirit, because “no one can say, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ but by the Holy Spirit.”  Jesus didn't withhold from him any gift he gave his other followers; he gave Thomas exactly what he needed because he needed it, and led him to deeper truth.

Of all the church seasons, Easter relies the most on faith.  During those times when we feel like we’ve lost our faith, may we never forget that God is there, in love, to meet us where we are, again and again.  

Prayer of the Day

O God of life,
you pour forth the Paschal joy on us.
Grant that we may keep in our hearts
the good news of the cross and the resurrection,
so that we may daily die to sin,
and rise to live in you forever;
through your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord,
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God forever and ever.
Amen.

—Collect for the Sunday after Easter from Den Svenska Psalmboken, 2007

Christ is risen from the dead!
By his death, he has trampled down death.
And to those in the tombs,
he has granted life.

Paschal Troparion from Orthodox liturgy

(Words: ‘O filii et filiae’, Jean Tisserand, 15th century; translated to English by John Mason Neale, 1818-1866; adapted by Joseph A. Soltero, 2015
Tune: ‘O filii et filiae’, from Airs sur les hymnes sacres, odes et noëls, 1623)

O sons and daughters, let us sing!
For heaven’s King, the glorious King,
O’er death and hell rose triumphing.
Alleluia!

That night, th’ apostles met in fear.
Amid them came their Lord most dear,
And said, “My peace be on all here.”
Alleluia!

When Thomas first the tidings heard,
How they had seen the risen Lord,
He doubted the disciples’ word.
Alleluia!

“My piercèd side, O Thomas, view.
My hands, my feet, I show to you.
Have faith, believe, be not untrue.”
Alleluia!

No longer Thomas then denied.
He saw the feet, the hands, the side.
“You are my Lord and God!” he cried.
Alleluia!

How blest are they who have not seen,
And yet whose faith has constant been,
For they eternal life shall win.
Alleluia!

Sunday, April 5, 2015

The freedom of Passover/Easter

EASTER DAY
(The Sunday of the Resurrection)

Readings:

Key Verses (using the World English Bible):
Col. 3:1: “If then you were raised together with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is.”
John 20:9: “As yet [Peter and the other disciple] didn’t know the Scripture, that [Christ] must rise from the dead.”

Reflection

The quest for freedom is a central theme in epic film genre.  The agonizing cry of “FREEDOM!” in Braveheart (1995); Hector’s declaration in Troy (2004) that “no son of Troy will ever submit to a foreign ruler”; Marcus Aurelius’ charge to Maximus in Gladiator (2000) that he “give power back to the people of Rome”, freeing it from “the corruption that has crippled it”; King Arthur’s vow in the 2004 film to win “the gift of freedom” for his knights, and the subsequent rebuilding of a new society, independent of Rome; even the 1996 sci-fi film Independence Day, where humanity prevails against aliens on July 4th, the United States’ Day of Independence —all of these equate freedom with independence, portraying these as the chief prize of any people, or of any one person, even when the goal seems like an elusive, hopeless, and even dangerous one.  

We find this same goal in the Bible, in the epic narrative of our received Hebrew Scripture: the Exodus.  But whereas, like in the examples above, we think of freedom as getting to do whatever we want because we don’t depend on anyone else, the Bible has a very different idea.  This disagreement surfaces in the classic 1956 film, The Ten Commandments, where Dathan defiantly tells Moses: “We will not live by your commandments!  We are free!”  Moses replies, “There is no freedom without the Law.”  Biblical freedom is more than just independence.

And yet the Bible recognizes the importance of both.  That Israel must become independent from Egypt before they can serve God reflects an all too human reality.  God indeed is everywhere, but it’s nearly impossible for us to find and serve God—to find and serve goodness, wholeness, love, and peace—when we are oppressed, stressed, and everything in between.  Passover, the story of the Exodus, forces us to consider, as a society, those systems which we have put in place to keep people down, to subjugate and imprison them to poverty, debt, materialism, elitism, prejudice, etc.; in which we rob each other of the freedom to be the people we are meant to be, the people whom God wills us to be.  Biblical freedom is the independence from the worst parts of ourselves in order to become dependent only on God, our true freedom.

But what happens when we can’t escape the worst parts of ourselves?  The delivered Israelites, who witnessed firsthand all of God’s wonders, still fell into sin, strife, and even idolatry on their journey.  Millennia later, Roman-oppressed Judeans who saw Jesus’ miracles and healings eventually cried out for his crucifixion.  But the death of Jesus inevitably leads to his resurrection, and to the promise of Easter, which we celebrate today.  And that promise is that God is also found in our worst selves: betrayal, mockery, abandonment, and execution.  God in Christ meets us right where we are, in the midst of whatever “Egypt” we find ourselves in, reminding us that we can find, serve, and love him there too.  No place can separate us from God, and the love God has towards us—not even death.

The stories of Passover and Easter are complementary, not exclusive.  One cannot exist without the other in our tradition.  And their good news, their joint testimony is that God—Life, the Universe, whatever you prefer—wants us, all of us, every being, to be free both in body and in spirit.  God opens our whole selves, again and again, to rise above any obstacle, and win freedom, wholeness, and new life.

Alleluia!  Christ is risen!  Happy Easter!

Prayer of the Day

Almighty God,
through your only-begotten Son Jesus Christ,
you have overcome death,
and opened to us the gate of everlasting life.
We humbly pray you that,
as by your special grace preceding us
you put good desires into our minds,
so by your continual help
we may bring the same to good effect;
through the same Jesus Christ our Lord,
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, forever and ever.
Amen.

—Collect for Easter Day from the Book of Common Prayer, 1662

O God,
you make us glad with the yearly celebration
of the resurrection of your beloved Son.
Grant in your favor that we,
running the course of the temporal feasts,
may be made worthy to reach the everlasting joys;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.

—Collect for Easter Day, Gelasian Sacramentary, 5th century, translated by Joseph A. Soltero, 2015

Hymn 1: “This joyful Eastertide
(Words: George R. Woodward, 1848-1934, stanza 2, and final refrain adapted by Joseph A. Soltero, 2015
Tune: ‘Vruechten’, from Psalmen, 1685; harmony by Charles Wood, 1866-1926)

This joyful Eastertide,
Away with sin and sorrow!
My love, the Crucified
Has sprung to life this morrow.
Had Christ, who once was slain,
Not burst his three-day prison,
Our faith had been in vain,
But now is Christ arisen, arisen, arisen!

Death’s flood has lost its chill
Since Jesus crossed the river.
Lover of souls, from ill
My passing soul deliver.
Had Christ, who once was slain,
Not burst his three-day prison,
Our faith had been in vain,
But now is Christ arisen, arisen, arisen!

My flesh in hope shall rest,
And for a season slumber,
Till trump from east to west
Shall wake the dead in number.
For Christ, who once was slain,
Has burst the three-day prison:
Our faith is not in vain!
For now is Christ arisen, arisen, arisen!

(Words: ‘Surrexit Christus hodie’, Latin, 14th century; 1st translation, Lyra Davidica, by John Walsh, 1708; stanzas 1-3 altered in The Compleat Psalmist, by John Arnold, 1749; stanza 4 added by Charles Wesley in Hymns and Sacred Poems, 1740.
Tune: ‘Easter Hymn’, from Lyra Davidica, adapted by The Compleat Psalmist, descant from Hymns Ancient and Modern, Revised, 1950)

Jesus Christ is ris’n today! Alleluia!
Our triumphant holy day! Alleluia!
Who did once, upon the cross—Alleluia!
Suffer to redeem our loss. Alleluia!

Hymns of praise then let us sing—Alleluia!
Unto Christ, our heav’nly King—Alleluia!
Who endured the cross and grave—Alleluia!
Sinners to redeem and save.  Alleluia!

But the pains which he endured—Alleluia!
Our salvation have procured—Alleluia!
Now above the sky, he’s King—Alleluia!
Where the angels ever sing.  Alleluia!

Sing we to our God above—Alleluia!
Praise eternal as his love!  Alleluia!
Praise him, all you heav’nly host—Alleluia!
Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!  Alleluia!