Never judge a book by its cover. How many of us have heard that piece of advice over the years? It’s a way of warning us not to be caught up in outward appearances but to investigate what is going on inside. This week’s readings have coincided with the much publicized “coming out” of Caitlyn Jenner – formerly known as Bruce Jenner. Bruce now Caitlyn has become a very public face on the issue of transgendered people. For those of us old enough to remember Bruce as an Olympic athlete, this came as quite a surprise! But from what Caitlyn has shared publically, this sense of disconnect between the outer world of the physical body and inner world feeling totally different has been a very painful thing. My friend Annabelle and I were talking about this in our icon class this past Monday and how when the inner world and outer world do not match, there can be much so much suffering.

Today’s first testament reading from 1 Samuel is about God directing Samuel to anoint David as king. Now this is where I have a “hate” relationship with the Lectionary – because there is a whole big story that gets chopped out for the sake of brevity! Last week, we heard the people demanding a king and, if you paid close attention to the scripture citations, we skipped from the demand in chapter 8 to the anointing of Saul at Gilgal in chapter 11. That means three chapters were cut out! There’s back story here. In those three chapters, we hear that Saul has a chance meeting with Samuel on the count of losing his father’s donkeys. What is reported of Saul is he is a “mighty man of valor,” who was “handsome” and stood “head and shoulders above everyone else.” Much is made of Saul’s height in the chapters telling of how he meets Samuel. It seems that his height and outer appearance was part of what made the impression as his being fit to be a leader.

The other part of what we missed is why this week we hear God has rejected Saul. This is part of what was left out too. When Saul takes over as king, he begins to exhibit two major character flaws: pride and impatience. Saul is prideful and begins to ignore the advice of Samuel who is mediating God’s instructions. Saul is going to do things his way! Saul is also impatient and appears to give in to the anxiety of his soldiers and others in his charge. Rather than waiting on the word of the Lord, he charges ahead. Remember last week, we heard in Samuel’s warning to the people about what having a kings would mean for them this line: “And in that day you will cry out because of your king, whom you have chosen for yourselves; but the LORD will not answer you in that day.” Now this does not mean that God has abandoned the Israelites – it does mean he will let them live with the consequences of choosing Saul. In this week’s reading, God begins to lay the groundwork for the next king.

We hear Samuel’s fear that Saul would become enraged and kill him. Saul is beginning to show signs of mental illness and violence. Many have speculated on the exact nature of Saul’s manias but we know he attempted to kill David at one point later in the story. God gives Samuel a plan to make contact with Jesse. One by one, each of the sons passes by Samuel. The first makes an impression but God tells Samuel not to look on the outer appearance or the “height of his stature” – almost as if to say, “You fell for the tall thing with Saul – that’s not what we’re looking for here!” God reminds Samuel that he sees the heart and doesn’t fall for outward appearances. Finally, after seven sons pass by and the answer is still no, he asks Jesse, “Got any more kids?” “Sure, one more, but he’s with the sheep.” And this! This is the son – one who is just a boy. The most unlikely one but look at how he is described – “ruddy” (the outdoors type), has “beautiful eyes” and is “handsome.” The eyes are the mirror of the soul – to be seen is to be known. God sees that what is on the outside is congruent with what is on the inside – David is anointed as the next king. Now this does not mean that David is perfect. He has some serious character flaws and does some pretty terrible things, but God works through him in spite of it. Let me also say that God worked through Saul too. Even as unstable as Saul was, it was under his leadership that the Philistines are defeated and peace secured at the northern border.

Paul speaks of this seeing past outward appearances in his letter to the Church in Corinth today too. He says “we regard no one from a human point of view” even though Christ was once human. He is calling the Corinthians to see past the obvious signs of wealth, status, and honor and look to the heart – to the new creation we become in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Jesus’ parables today about seeds also speak of a hidden inner nature. We have all done the elementary school science project of sprouting the lima bean in wet paper towels, right? We know what happens when a seed is planted. But, even knowing what happens, we cannot completely explain why it happens. Why do some seeds sprout and others don’t? I can’t get parsnips to grow … carrots, yes / parsnips, no. Why one and not the other? I don’t have a clue. It is mystery. A point Jesus is making about both the seed sprouted and the mustard seed is that there is a mysterious hidden nature to the seed. When I speak of mystery in this way, I’m not talking about Scooby Doo and Shaggy solving a mystery! We are talking about the Divine Mystery which is beyond human understanding. The inner nature of things is often a mystery wrapped in an enigma.

Jesus uses some hyperbole in speaking of the mustard seed growing into a great shrub or tree. Mustard was known to the ancients and it’s the same stuff we have – a low growing leafy plant with yellow flowers. The Jewish people avoided mustard at all costs because it doesn’t play by the rules – it spreads invasively! It gets all mixed up in the crops and thus breaks the Jewish laws forbidding two kinds of crops in the same field. It messes up everything and so it is with the kingdom of God! The inner nature of the kingdom is it will show up in unexpected and seemingly innocuous ways but it will spread like a weed. The inner nature is more powerful and pervasive than what the outer nature would indicate.

We are all people with both an inner nature and an outer one. The spiritual life is about becoming more real and transparent so that the inner world and outer world are congruent – what you see is what you get. There are people with a high degree of congruence and others who seem not to possess it at all. There will be people who look good on the surface and mouth all the right words, but their actions show their inner nature is not what they portray. They can betray and hurt us deeply! There will also be people who don’t look so good on the outside but whose inner nature is kind and generous. There will be things we discover in ourselves as we grow in Christ - some will be wonderful and others disturbing. But we must make the inner journey so that God may, through grace, bring our inner and outer worlds into alignment. We need not fear this process - for just as God worked through Saul in spite of his flaws, God also works through us.

My friend Annabelle pointed something out to me when we were talking about the Caitlyn Jenner story this week. Apparently, she read that Caitlyn (while still Bruce) and the Kardashian family financed a church start up. While the Kardashians have fallen away, Caitlyn still attends this church. I found this rather remarkable in light of thinking how the kingdom might just show up through unexpected people in unlikely places. This trans woman who lived so long with an incongruent inner and outer world now has changed … but still is a person of faith. May we find the grace to see the inner nature of others, be honest and courageous to face our own inner nature, and trust that God is working in the midst of these discoveries no matter what.

You’ve probably heard the admonition, “Be careful what you ask for … you just might get it!” I think that would be a very fitting subtext to the reading from 1st Samuel today. We are beginning the “long green season” of Pentecost where our Hebrew scriptures will journey through the history of the Jewish people and our Gospel texts will focus on the actions and teachings of Jesus in his life and ministry among us. We open today with the story of the people of Israel demanding a king … be careful what you ask for indeed.

This story comes after the Israelites came out of slavery in Egypt and settled in the Promised Land. Joshua, who led them in after the death of Moses, is now long since dead. After Joshua’s death, Israel was governed by two groups of people: prophets and judges. The prophets attended to the spiritual life of the people and the judges addressed practical disputes. There’s a whole book about that period called “Judges” … admittedly, not a very original title! Probably the best way we can understand the judges was as a kind of tribal warlord but remember both men and women served in this role. But now we hear the people of Israel demanding a king from the prophet Samuel. Of course, they start by dissing Samuel’s kids … that doesn’t help things. Samuel is angry over this request but God says, “Hey, welcome to my world. It’s not about you Samuel, it really is about me.”

God does something interesting, though, in giving Israel a warning about what they are asking for. I wish God would do that for me! “Hey, Anjel, if I really give that to you, here’s what you’re in for.” It doesn’t work that way for me … but in this story, Samuel takes the dire warning about what they would be in for if they go the route of having a king. The people don’t care – they want a king and they want him now and they don’t care what they have to give up.

I think we can best understand their request in the context of their world. Geographically, the Promised Land is in a very vulnerable place. To the southwest, you have the great world power of Egypt – pyramids, the Sphinx, powerful armies with chariots, and Pharaohs with big hats! To the northeast, you have the various ancient civilizations of Mesopotamia – and they have armies, and chariots, and kings with big hats too! And what does Israel have? Judges? Yeah … you’re feeling kind of vulnerable stuck in the middle between these world powers and right on the trade route between them. Israel is kind of the Poland of the ancient near east – everybody runs over her!

This puts the request of the people into focus – they are afraid. They are surrounded by power and they want … security! The primary driving force behind this request is fear and the desire for security. It is in our human nature – we know we are squishable people and we know we are vulnerable both personally and corporately. What is the remedy? Do something to guarantee our security. We are still this way. I’ve been talking with my oldest daughter this week about how congress is revisiting the Patriot Act which was passed in the wake of the attacks of 9/11. It was a reactive response which rolled back many of the freedoms we cherish. When we are in fear, we will sell out our freedom for security every single time. This is what is happening with the Israelites – they are selling out their freedom as God’s people for the security of having an earthly king to defend them. The warning God gives is that one day they will cry out because of their king and the Lord will not answer. This sounds harsh but it is the reality that God will not save us from our choices. Choices have consequences and God will not magically swoop down and save us from them. Be careful what you ask for!

A little over a thousand years later, the people want another king – a Messiah, and anointed one, one who would restore the kingship of David. God sent … a carpenter’s kid from some jerkwater town called Nazareth. Be careful what you ask for … this king wasn’t going to look like what they expected and already he’s causing trouble. We are only in the third chapter of Mark and Jesus is really ticking people off. They think he’s gone mad! He’s possessed by Satan! What in the world could be causing all of this reactivity? What has he done? He healed a few people … on the Sabbath, ok that’s breaking the rules. He’s hanging out with tax collectors and other sinners … definitely associating with undesirable elements of society. He’s challenging the authority of the scribes. Come to think of it … he’s threatening the community’s … security! Rules are established for the purpose of security, and don’t get me wrong, some basic rules are necessary for us to function well and respect others. But rules can go overboard and begin to shun and exclude. This is what Jesus is challenging – rules which exclude those who most need the grace of God in their lives. But these challenges are a threat to their security. Security is now a “small g god” – an idol being worshiped.

We are not so different. We are squishable people too and quite aware of our vulnerability. We ache for security and struggle to place our trust in God for it. Jesus is redefining family and what it means to be community by welcoming people who don’t fit in. Now here at Grace, I think we do a pretty good job of welcoming people here and making safe space for all who come. But one tendency of groups, especially churches, is to welcome people with the understanding that joining our group means becoming “like us.” We welcome you to … become like us. But what if our call isn’t to being people in to this fellowship to become like us but rather to welcome people in to change us? I know … sounds scary at a deep level doesn’t it? A metaphor for community which I find helpful is dancing.

I am not a good dancer. I have witnesses who can attest to this. Mom enrolled me at Miss Vernetta’s Dance Studio in San Diego to help me get over my klutzy ways and I probably do remember a few tap numbers … but it’s not a pretty sight. But if you watch people who are really good dancers, you’ll find they have studied with many different groups and people to learn new moves and develop their own style. If we apply this idea to the way of following Jesus, we as a community have some moves to teach those who come here AND they have some moves to teach us. This will challenge our basic desires for security, but it makes for a more glorious dance and a more vibrant witness to the power of God among us.

Many of you who have been here a long time have prayed for Grace to grow in mission and in membership. Be careful what you ask for … because your prayers are being fulfilled. Grace is growing because the Holy Spirit wants a vibrant witness here in Brunswick. Changes come with risks, they aren’t always comfortable and change will at times feel like a threat to our security. But let’s keep dancing together and as we teach others our moves, may we be open to learning some new ones that our dance may be joyous and more fully glorify God.

I mentioned a few weeks ago how predictable the lectionary is through the Easter season. You always get the story of “Doubting Thomas” on the Sunday after Easter. Fourth Sunday of Easter is always Good Shepherd Sunday and the Seventh Sunday of Easter is always some portion of what’s known as the “high priestly prayer” of Jesus in John 17. Let’s be honest … did you find yourself a little confused with the circular referencing in that passage from John? If you did, you are not alone! The prayer in its entirety is a long and rambling prayer with lots of repetition: glory, glorify, yours/mine, mine/yours. It can be pretty overwhelming can’t it? It’s no wonder so many preachers just move the story of the Ascension, which happened last Thursday, to this Sunday … apparently preaching about Jesus flying up in the sky is easier!

But this prayer occurs here, on this Sunday between Ascension and Pentecost, for a good reason. The Ascension reminds us that we no longer have the bodily presence of Jesus in our midst to guide us. Even though Luke tells us the disciples were joyous at the Ascension, there is still a change in how they will relate to Jesus in a different way. His absence is felt. This prayer reminds us that Christ is still with us and still interceding for us to the Father. We can fall into the trap of thinking that Jesus is now gone and his time is somehow “over” and then the Holy Spirit comes and that’s what we are waiting for. That idea is the heresy of modalism condemned as heresy as early as 262 by Dionysius, Bishop of Rome, and addressed in the Councils of Nicaea and Constantinople. Christ is still active and present to the Church through the sacraments and continues to pray for us – both as a community and as individuals.

While this prayer is long and rambling, there is one point which kept coming up as I prayed with this passage – “Holy Father, protect them in your name that you have given me, so that they may be one, as we are one.” Jesus is praying for our protection and that we may be one. The latter sounds like a pretty impossible thing, doesn’t it? How can we possibly be “one” when we don’t see eye to eye? How can we be one if we disagree?

Back in seminary, I did an independent study course which evolved into a research paper contrasting the concept of unity with uniformity. The backdrop was comparing the current controversies over sexual orientation and LGBT inclusion in the Church with the Reformation era Vestments Controversy (yes, we Anglicans actually argued about liturgical clothing … think of it as “What Not to Wear: The Reformation Edition”). I realized I bit off more than I could chew with this paper, and it really has the beginnings of a doctoral thesis, but what came out of it for me was this idea that unity and uniformity are really two different ideas which sit on a continuum. In light of our reading, I’ll share with you my ideas on this … and as Rod Serling used to say, they are “submitted for your approval” – see if they resonate for you.

On the one end of the continuum, there is unity. The way I experience this is quite mystical. It is the idea that a group of people are brought together for a common purpose and in so doing that gathering incorporates and celebrates the diversity of its members. St. Paul spoke of this in his metaphor of the Body of Christ being made up of many diverse members. The Church, as an entity, has a common purpose – our final purpose is Divine union, both individually and corporately. This kind of unity is witnessed in stories like Philip baptizing the Ethiopian eunuch that we heard a few weeks ago. This new Church made space and included people like the gender queer eunuch who had historically been excluded! Women, people with disabilities, the gender queer, Gentiles … people who otherwise would not have been brought together suddenly found themselves part of this mystical Body of Christ – finding a mystical unity which could withstand the tension of their diversity and even celebrated it as the gathering sought Divine union in Christ.

On the other end of the continuum, we find uniformity. We often confuse uniformity with unity because they share the same goal – bringing together a group of people for a common purpose. Uniformity differs from unity, though, in that uniformity does not have a high tolerance for diversity. Uniformity will sacrifice diversity for the sake of the common goal. Uniformity can be characterized by similarity of ideas and beliefs, modes of dress and behavior.

Human life is lived somewhere between these two poles, regardless of which groupings we consider. Each of the ends has its strengths and weaknesses. Unity embraces diversity but can also be very inefficient because of that diversity. Embracing unity can leave us stuck and unable to accomplish anything because we struggle to find common ground. Uniformity, on the other hand, is quite efficient but it will tend to cast out and exclude those who don’t fall in lock step with the group ideals. Every group, whether political or ecclesial, falls somewhere on this continuum.

Under stress, humans will tend to move towards uniformity to get to a resolution of whatever is causing the anxiety. We see that a lot in our political landscape – the pressure to “toe the party line” and make sure what you say conforms to the party’s “talking points.” When humans are less anxious, they will move back towards unity and an embracing of more diversity.

We see this in the various expressions of Christianity too. Some denominations land closer to the uniformity end of the spectrum and others towards the unity end. Many of you here at Grace have come from churches which lie more towards the pole of uniformity. An example of this is how the Roman Catholic Church and the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod exclude from Holy Communion anyone who does not belong to their church. I have debated Roman Catholic priests on this topic because the official teaching from the Pope and Magisterium states that the Eucharist is a symbol of Christian “unity” and because we are “not yet one”, those outside the Roman Catholic Church may not receive Eucharist. I suggest this is an attempt to disguise a demand for uniformity as unity. I’ve posed the question that if the Last Supper is the pattern for Eucharist (with which we agree) and if the Eucharist is a symbol of “unity” (with which we agree) then why was Judas not excluded from the supper? He clearly was not at “unity,” as they define it, with Jesus in that moment. Jesus, even knowing Judas would betray him, dipped the bread in the dish and handed it to Judas! I have yet to find a Roman Catholic priest who can give me a reasonable answer to my question. I suggest it is because this is a case where “unity” and “uniformity” are being confused. If Jesus had demanded “uniformity,” Judas would have been excluded and driven out of the group. But Jesus did not demand “uniformity” – his inclusion of Judas was that mystical “unity” which could even embrace the deep pain of betrayal … and that is a truly scandalous Gospel!

There are times when people come to the Episcopal Church and get frustrated because we seem to lack hard and fast answers for their questions. This is because we land more on the end of unity on this spectrum than uniformity (although we do like to dress alike and color code our clergy shirts). It can be maddening for some when they ask about whether we believe in transubstantiation or consubstantiation and I reply, “Yes … and we even make space for those who see it as memorial only … and even for those who really don’t know what they believe but know there’s something mystical going on. We call that the ‘Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist’ … but we don’t spend a lot of time defining it.” We make space for a lot here … and that can be terribly inefficient and at times very frustrating.

Jesus prayed that we all may be one as he and the Father are one. We can do it but it will be imperfectly and our efforts will swing between these two poles of unity and uniformity throughout our earthly days. But in the end, Jesus’ command to “love one another as I have loved you” becomes the most important ethic on which to move into union – both with each other and with God.

“You did not choose me but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last …” Some of you have been a part of our icon writing workshop at the Brunswick Public Library these past few weeks. We are writing Christ the Teacher and in the basic drawing for this icon has the book Jesus is holding has blank pages. As you write the icon and pray, you meditate on what scripture quote should go in the book. I worked on the prototype for this when I was at Holy Cross Monastery earlier this year and when it came time to finish it with the scripture quote, I found myself reading through the Gospel of John and … this was the quote! I promise I wasn’t reading ahead in the lectionary.

“You did not choose me but I chose you.” Hear those words spoken to you … “You did not choose me but I chose you.” What goes through your mind when you hear the words “I chose you”? I confess on first blush it makes me feel special … really special. Being chosen really feels good doesn’t it? I know for me, being that I was always the last kid who was chosen for sports teams, it feels pretty good to be chosen. I was one of those kids when it came down to the wire, not only was I not picked for the team, the teams would walk away and leave me there! Yeah … P.E. was a personal hell for me throughout my school years. But being chosen … wanted … loved … yeah, that’s pretty special for anybody.

But if you just stay with this sense of being “special” because you are “chosen”, you end up pretty distorted. Being chosen can give you a pretty swelled head if you stay with just that part of it. I’ve met clergy who are stuck in how special they are in being called or chosen. I confess I get nervous around clergy who tell me they had a call to be a priest as a 12 or 13 year old and “never doubted” their call. They tend to be stuck in that special stage … which is called narcissism. The clergy I find most grounded and holy are the ones who struggled with their call and moved beyond how “special” they felt. They took in the full implication of what it means to be chosen. It comes with responsibilities and risks. It can be daunting and if we think we can do it alone, we will fail and it will be an epic failure. Only God can sustain us and give us what we need to live into the challenges and responsibilities of our being chosen to bear fruit that will last.

Being chosen can lead to some confusion too. One thing we often wrestle with is the fact that being chosen does not make us immune from being hurt and from bad things happening to us. The ancient Israelites learned this during the Babylonian exile when they had to wrestle with the question, “If we are God’s chosen people, how could God have let the Babylonians defeat us?” We may not face Babylonians literally, but we do face them figuratively and sometimes they are even in the Church.

This past week, many of us saw the Facebook posts about the gay couple in Orlando Florida who were told their adopted son could not be baptized at the Cathedral of St. Luke – and Episcopal cathedral. There was a great outcry about this online and this is where social media brought some positive pressure to bear to support this baby and his parents. No question this family suffered hurt at the hands of the Church whose leadership was trying to accommodate members of the congregation who disapprove of same sex relationships. The parents in question, Rich and Eric, met with Bishop Brewer this week and little Jack’s baptism will take place this summer. There have been those in the LGBT community who have asked Rich and Eric why they will have Jack baptized in a church “which has rejected you.” Rich responded in a grace filled post on Facebook essentially saying that he believes in the goodness of the people of St. Luke’s and wants to be a force for reconciliation and healing. What grace! These two dads are living the message of the cross. It would be easier to cut and run – leave that church and shake the dust. Instead, they have chosen to stay and bear fruit that will last – the fruit of healing and love.

This weekend was our Diocesan Convention and we were blessed to hear the Rev. Becca Stevens, founder of Thistle Farms. Thistle Farms is a community of recovery helping women escape sex trafficking and rebuild their lives. Thistle Farms makes amazing products which are centered on healing – oils, candles, lotions, and soaps. These women have much to healing to do. Not only are they victims of sexual trauma, they are often addicted to drugs and, while held in virtual slavery by their pimps, they are usually the ones arrested for prostitution and serve time – victimized by their pimps and again by the legal system. Their stories are horrific. Becca+ spoke of forgiveness and how she learned it: first from watching her mother forgive the truck driver whose negligence killed her father who was also an Episcopal priest and second how she found a way to forgive the lay leader in their church who, after the death of her father, began sexually molesting her. When you hear Becca+ speak, there is no question she is chosen and is bearing fruit in her ministry at Thistle Farms. There are, however, those who relapse and go back on the street, often with tragic outcomes. Some are brutalized and even killed by their pimps in retaliation. Becca+ spoke of identifying bodies only by their tattoos. But for those who stick with the program, there is hope, healing and recovery. Their motto is “Love heals” and we saw it in action.

“You did not choose me but I chose you.” Being chosen doesn’t mean life on easy street. It doesn’t mean we won’t be hurt. Sometimes life hands you a bucket of crap. The question is what will you do with it? Rich and Eric didn’t ask to be initially rejected in seeking baptism for their son – that was a bucket of crap! Becca+ didn’t ask to be sexually abused either. And I do not believe for one minute that God caused these things to happen! If I did, I’d be preaching about a pretty sadistic jerk of a God. No, most of the bad things that happen to us are a result of living in a broken world full of sinful people who hurt each other. But that does not change the fact that Jesus chose you and appointed you to bear fruit which will last. Now, I know a little about fruit trees … they need fertilizer don’t they? So what if you take that bucket of crap life handed you and turn it over … turn it over to the God who redeems it through Christ. Turn it over, let it go, and just see what God can do with it so that you can bear fruit … fruit that will last.

My mom started growing African violets when I was a kid. We had a number of them in her garden window in California. I now have several in a south facing window in our home in a garden tray my husband gave me for Christmas one year. They bloom constantly - even through the winter which brings color to our home in an otherwise colorless time. This little African violet came to me last December. It had been left behind by its previous owner and wasn't in the best shape. The leaves were small and discolored and there were no signs of any blooms on it at all. It would be easy to blame the condition of this violet on the prior owner’s neglect, but that would not be true. The prior owner watered and fed it and I have a “brown thumb” – I have even killed cactus! I mean, who kills cactus? Well … I do! It wasn't neglect, it was isolation. You see, these are “social” plants. They flourish when grouped together and wither when isolated from others. This week, on the same day the Baltimore riots started, this little violet bloomed. This made me I think about what this little plant and the readings this week say about Christian community.

Jesus said to his disciples, “Abide in me.” He didn't say, “Abide with me” or “Abide next to me” or “Abide somewhere over there at arm’s length.” No … he said “abide in me.” In so doing he makes it clear that to be a Christian means being incorporated into a mystical connection to him and with each other. It means being connected to people not like you and me – even people we may not like very much, people we don’t understand and people whose world view is very different from ours. It reminds us that this week’s riots on the heels of Freddie Gray’s death while in the custody of the Baltimore City Police affected us. Maybe the riots did not directly affect us but because we abide in Christ with our sisters and brothers in West Baltimore, the riots affected us. Perhaps they spurred some sense of outrage over how a man whose only apparent “crime” was to make eye contact with a police officer could end up dead. Maybe the riots made you angry at the rioters because you don’t understand why they would trash their own neighborhood. They affected me because I served a church in West Baltimore and I count the people of St. Luke’s as my friends. They were caught up in it and I was concerned for their safety. They have deep  seeded problems in their neighborhood – neglected schools, drugs and addiction, crime, lack of decent paying jobs, lack of access to fresh food, and a legacy of segregation. There is a lot of frustration and it reached an explosive point this week. I cannot excuse what happened, but I can understand why it happened. As Martin Luther King once said, “A riot is the language of the unheard.” These sisters and brothers who abide in Christ with us have been unheard for years … and we have been complicit in ignoring the problems. When I saw people who consider themselves good Christians posting comments on Facebook calling the rioters “thugs” and “criminals”, the words of John came roaring back to me: “Those who say, ‘I love God,’ and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen.” Posting things on social media which label and call names isn’t part of the solution – and I can assure you many of our sisters and brothers in West Baltimore were as angry at the rioters and looters as we are.

It has been relatively safe for us to sit back and observe the riots and violence done to our sisters and brothers in Baltimore from a distance and it is hard to approach the enormity of the problems they face … it can lead us to be paralyzed where we are and do nothing. I confess I am overwhelmed by it. I asked some friends on Facebook message what we can do besides pray. They told me they don’t even know yet, but prayer is a good place to start. I think also we can take a hint from today’s story of Phillip and the Ethiopian eunuch. Here is a story of Phillip encountering someone vastly different from himself. Think about it … we are talking about a story of the baptism of a gender queer African! He’s different from Phillip on at least three points: he’s African not Jewish, he’s a eunuch, and he’s in a different socio-economic status as a high court official. Phillip is led by the Spirit to go down to Gaza from Jerusalem when he is guided to approach the chariot. The Ethiopian eunuch is apparently headed the same direction. He may share the Jewish faith as he is reading from the prophet Isaiah and while we don’t know for certain, he may have been at the temple while in Jerusalem. Phillip is guided to approach the chariot and, before he engages the eunuch, he hears him reading. This is crucial because he now has a visual confirmation this person is different and, upon hearing his voice, Phillip would have known he was gender queer – a grown man with a high pitched voice would have pegged him as a eunuch immediately. But this didn’t stop Phillip from reaching across what obviously divided them to engage the eunuch. He accepts the invitation to get into the chariot and takes the opportunity to begin a relationship with this man by first listening to him! They discuss the Isaiah passage and Phillip shares his faith that Jesus is the fulfillment of the prophetic text. When they come upon some water, the eunuch asks the million dollar question: “What is to prevent me from being baptized?” It’s a profound question because of his gender queer status. You see, as a eunuch, even if he were a devout Jew, he would have been only allowed into the outermost Court of the Gentiles in the temple compound. He would have known exclusion based on his gender queer status. While it brought him the privilege of working in the queen’s court, it also came with a burden. Phillip doesn’t let any of that get in the way – they go down into the water together. The answer to his question isn’t, “well, baptism is for everyone except …” This answer is “Nothing … absolutely nothing prevents you from being baptized.” Nothing prevents you or anyone else from abiding in Christ … and he came up out of the water rejoicing!

Phillip followed the Spirit’s call to reach across the divide of race, gender identity, and socio-economic strata to engage someone very different from him. Engaging is listening … not apologizing or defending your view, but listening first and remembering you abide in Christ with these sisters and brothers whose lives are very different – you are part of their community and we are part of theirs. Like this little African violet, we flourish when we are in community – and not just with people who look like us and live in our same zip code. We are called into deeper communion with Christ and each other when we enter into deep and meaningful connection with others who are different and who challenge us.

This morning, we have been asked to step outside our houses of worship for a moment of silence and prayer for our sisters and brothers in Baltimore. As things progress over the next few days, weeks and months, other opportunities to engage will emerge – but today we can begin with prayer … and we can begin to be like Phillip and reach across that which divides us to be a community who more fully abides in Christ.

Theologian Karl Barth once said that in order understand the scriptures one must have the Bible in one hand and a newspaper in the other. He strongly believed the scriptures to be speaking to our time and I couldn’t agree more. But I think if he had lived long enough, he’d now say you need the Bible in one hand and a smartphone in the other. Isn’t that where most of us get our information these days? Sometimes it may even be the Bible in one hand and Facebook on your smartphone in the other! That happened this week for me as I was contemplating why these first two readings in the Easter season seem so fixated on wounds. I received a message from a colleague in the Chicago area – a fellow RevGalBlogPal who serves a community church there. She asked my prayers in a private Facebook message for a clergy friend who had died by suicide this past week. We often believe clergy are immune to things like suicide – after all, we have the Gospel of Jesus Christ, right? Well, no … it’s not like that at all. We can fall into despair just like anyone else and we are not immune to any of the sufferings that others have. My colleague was mourning and shaken. Later this same colleague sent me a link that some of you may have seen on Facebook – a piece of news that I otherwise might not have seen since it happened outside our geographic area. It was the story of a third grade teacher who did an exercise with her class called “I wish my teacher knew …” She had her class fill in the blank of what they wished their teacher knew and the results were startling. The answers were raw and honest: “I wish my teacher knew that nobody plays with me at recess.” Ouch! “I wish my teacher knew I haven’t seen my daddy since I was three because he was deported.” Wow! These are third graders! We somehow view childhood through rosy glasses and forget that all of us – no matter how old we are – are carrying wounds … serious wounds.

This week’s gospel reading from Luke appears to be a repeat of last week’s reading from John. Last week we heard of Jesus showing his wounds to the disciples and especially to Thomas who refused to believe unless he saw and touched them. This week we hear of Jesus showing up with the same words, “Peace be with you” and once again showing his wounds with the words “Touch me and see.” Then in true Luke fashion, Jesus asks for something to eat … this is the gospel where he’s accused of being a drunk and a glutton! But all of this talk of wounds and showing wounds isn’t something we generally like to talk about, is it? We would rather avoid wounds all together, right? Wounds frighten us – we are afraid of our wounds, our own and those in others. But I think Jesus’ invitation to “Touch me and see” is an invitation to us to touch our wounds because in them is the hope for healing and resurrection.

The fear we have over wounds comes from our culture. We tend towards a social Darwinism touting “survival of the fittest” and that kind of thinking doesn’t make room for anyone to be hurt, does it? My experience tells me wounds are not easy for anyone, but they are especially hard for men in our culture. It’s OK for women to be wounded … we expect women to be “weaker” don’t we? But we really don’t make it OK for men to experience weakness and wounds. This is where Jesus defies the culture! He gets real and shows his wounds and by them, the disciples are healed. Even in the midst of their “disbelief” as Luke tells us – and seriously, who wouldn’t be confused and disbelieving? – the disciples begin to be healed precisely because Jesus is willing to show his wounds.

Franciscan spiritual leader and author Richard Rohr speaks of our troubled relationship with our wounds. He says that we can basically do two things with our pain. The first is to allow it to transform us – allow ourselves to experience our wounds and pain, work through the suffering, and allow the experience to transform (resurrect) us. The second option is to transmit our pain onto others. Sadly, most people take the second route because the first is scary and hard. Most people are pain transmitters because they have never done the deeper work of letting their wounds be a path to deeper transformation and healing – they are frightened of their wounds and pain. But letting it transform us allows us to become what Henri Nouwen called “wounded healers” – he actually wrote a book called The Wounded Healer. If we stop trying to run from and deny our wounds and instead let them be what they are and transform us, we can become wounded healers instead of “wounded wound-ers” (that’s what we are when we transmit our pain onto others). Being transformed, resurrected if you will, into wounded healers who offer hope to others who are suffering is part of our call as Christians.

I saw this happen last night. Last night, we held our first 12 Step Eucharist for Recovering People at Grace Church. We kept the publicity for this very low key to respect the 12th Tradition of anonymity in recovery. We put it on our Facebook page, I invited some folks I know in the recovery community to spread the word, and we handed out some flyers. Fourteen people showed up and we had an awesome speaker in Eric who likened recovery to his learning to fly a plane. What I seen in the rooms and what I saw in our gathering last night is the fact that people in recovery are brutally honest about their wounds. They know what addiction has done to them and their loved ones. Those committed to sobriety, from whatever addiction they are addressing, show their wounds to each other in the meetings and here last night. In their stories lies hope for recovery for others who are also wounded.

You see, Jesus was resurrected not as the “new and improved” version of himself but rather resurrected as one still bearing his wounds – one whose wounds have been transformed for the sake of all of us. This is also what can be true for us too. When we get real about the wounds in our lives, experience the pain of them, pray for the risen Christ to heal them, and are willing to share our resurrection experience to offer strength, hope and healing to others, these wounds become agents of grace and mercy to a hurting world.

So as we continue celebrating the hope of the resurrection this Eastertide, I invite you to examine your own wounds. Start with ones which have been healed well – those are the easier ones to address. Where might those healed wounds offer hope and encouragement to another? Where might you be hearing the invitation to show them to someone who needs the hope of resurrection in a tangible way? Now take a look at the wounds which may be more raw – the ones that may still be really hard to face because they are so fresh. You may not be ready to share those because they are not yet transformed and sharing them would make you a “wounded wound-er.” Take those to Christ in prayer. Ask for healing of those wounds and offer them to Christ as a gift. Yeah, I know that may sound weird and not the kind of gift we would normally give … but do it anyway. These wounds, offered in prayer and humility, can be transformed if you allow them to be so. And one day, you may very well be able to say to another person who is hurting, “Touch me and see … resurrection is real!"

“Just give me a reason, just a little bit’s enough. Wait a second, we’re not broken just bent – and we can learn to love again. It is in the stars, it’s been written on the scars of our hearts that we’re not broken just bent – and we can learn to love again.” Some of you recognize that song from Pink and you may even hear it played on our local radio station in the morning when our organist Dj is back in the booth at Key 103. I couldn’t get this song out of my head this week as I meditated on the gospel reading for this morning. You may not realize but this reading about the disciples being gathered and receiving the Holy Spirit from John’s gospel (yes, the one with “Doubting Thomas”) is always read on the second Sunday of Easter. So let’s just say, I’ve preached it a few times over the years. If a parish has a seminary intern, this is the Sunday the rector will pass on preaching in favor of giving the seminarian some air time. Its sheer familiarity becomes problematic to preaching. But this year, I want to look at it from another angle: one that incorporates what was addressed in the opening collect for the Second Sunday of Easter – the covenant of reconciliation and how our wounds can lead us into reconciliation where we can learn to love again.

This story takes place on the day of Resurrection – we are back on Easter Sunday. In John’s gospel, Mary Magdalene has already seen the risen Christ but, true to form, the guys don’t believe her. Peter and John run out to the burial site and see an empty tomb, but nothing more. Put yourself into their shoes for just a moment. You have thrown all caution to the wind in following this itinerant preacher who has been spreading a message of radical inclusion and love without measure. He healed lepers, gave sight to the blind, and he even raised his friend from the dead! Surely this was the promised one … but then came an arrest, false charges, a rapid conviction, crucifixion, death and burial in a tomb. Everything you had pinned your hopes on is gone – dead and gone. And how does that sit with you? Do you feel heartbroken? Sick? Feel like your trust was betrayed (“I thought he was the real deal and he’s just another fake!”)? Confused? Afraid? “Now what?” But then, when it looks like all hope is lost, Jesus appears. He said, “Peace be with you” and then he showed the disciples his wounds. This is crucial … he shows them his wounds and only after they see the wounds do they rejoice. John is pointing to something very important here. Jesus reveals his wounds to the wounded disciples. Their wounds are emotional and spiritual, and Jesus meets their wounds with his.

But Thomas was not with them when this happens. John tells us that Thomas wants to see Jesus too, but notice what he talks about: Christ’s wounds. He gets pretty graphic in saying he wants to touch the wounds of Jesus or he will never believe. Now due to a translational issue, when Jesus does show himself to Thomas, he will get forever branded with the word “doubt.” Doubt is not the issue – unbelief, faithlessness, lack of trust is the real issue Jesus raises with Thomas. “Do not be faithless, be believing” is how it is rendered in other translations. When Jesus shows his wounds to Thomas and meets Thomas’ emotional wounds with his own, then a new way forward – a new way to love again opens up.

One thing I have found to be true is how our wounds, our being broken and bent, can be instruments of reconciliation and healing. It seems counterintuitive. We do not like to be wounded or weak, do we? Our minds immediately go to the wounded gazelle in the herd on the Serengeti Plain being picked off by the pack of lions, don’t they? Survival of the fittest says “don’t be weak” and “don’t be wounded” … or if you are never, ever admit it! The problem with that approach is it never leads to healing – it only leads to denial and the wounds going deeper and getting emotionally and spiritually infected.

Being honest about our wounds is a first step in healing a broken relationship. You’ve heard me preach about “capital D ‘death’ and capital R ‘resurrection’” – or what I call the “final exam” when you take your last breath and leave your body behind. But there are lots of “small d ‘deaths’” and “small r ‘resurrections’” throughout our lives when things seem to fall apart. Maybe it’s the end of a marriage or the collapse of a friendship, or a rift between siblings. There are lots of times when relationships undergo a breaking apart and in the wake of that pain, we often wonder if we can learn to love again. It hurts … it sometimes feels like it hurts too much and we’ve been too betrayed. Reconciliation is a form of resurrection for these “small d ‘deaths’” and it begins by being honest about our wounds – physical, emotional and spiritual ones.

Need some proof? Look at South Africa and their Truth and Reconciliation Commission. When the governmental system of apartheid ended, both the oppressed and the oppressors were given the opportunity to tell their stories of what happened to them in front of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Archbishop Desmond Tutu was very instrumental in this process. Afrikaaners who had taken part in oppressing the African tribes spoke candidly and graphically about the torture and killing they did to maintain their privileged status. Black Africans spoke of the terror they experienced – beatings, rapes, murders. Anguished stories brought forth tears … and in this process, over time, a way forward began to emerge where the former oppressors and the formerly oppressed began to move forward into a future together. It was a reconciled and resurrected relationship only possible when both parties could see each other’s wounds in a process which provided a safe container for those wounds to be honored, felt deeply, and healed.

This morning, I am wearing a stole which came from Sarajevo. Some of you remember when this region was torn apart into warring factions: Muslim, Catholic and Orthodox all killing each other after their leader died. It was a horrible conflict but the long term healing has happened in the wake of bringing the formerly warring and now wounded parties together to find a way forward. This stole was embroidered by a Muslim woman … with clearly Christian symbols to be worn by a Christian minister. It is a project bringing Muslim, Christian and Orthodox women together to rebuild their country in peace.

When Jesus shows up and meets the wounds of the disciples with his own, a new and reconciled relationship begins: a relationship where the Holy Spirit is poured out and fear is taken away. These disciples would go out to take the message of resurrection and reconciliation into the world regardless of the personal cost to them. Most would lose their lives for this. Extra biblical literature and oral tradition tell us that Thomas went to India to spread the gospel and he is revered as the founder of the Mar Thoma Church (with whom we are in full communion).

This gives us hope for our future and the wounded, bent and broken relationships we have in our lives. If we can meet the wounds of another with the honesty and humility of acknowledging our own wounds, the gift of reconciliation can open a new way forward and we can, in spite of the hurt, learn to love again.

Do you ever think about how stories match particular personalities and people? Maybe it’s a character in a story who reminds you of someone you know or a story line that seems lifted out of your own life or your family’s. Or maybe it’s the narrative style of a story that brings to mind a person or situation. This is the power of stories – they reach out of the pages and bring to mind our own lives. I was thinking about this the other day in light of the narrative style of the Gospel of Mark – a fast paced, action packed gospel that ends on this unresolved weird note – and suddenly I thought of a particular person … Ron Popeil. Yeah … I know … how random is that? For those of you who don’t know that name, I know you know of him. Ron Popeil is an inventor, salesman par excellence and pioneer of the television infomercial. While you may never have bought a Pocket Fisherman, a Veg-O-Matic or a Showtime Rotisserie oven, you know Ron Popeil. He knew how to generate excitement and enthusiasm about the products he invented and sold and he used phrases that have wormed their way into our cultural language: “Isn’t that amazing?” “Set it and forget it!” and the granddaddy of them all … “But wait! There’s more!”

Why in the world did I think of Ron Popeil while meditating on the resurrection narrative in the Gospel of Mark? Well … ADD only explains a small fraction of it. The more I thought about it, and yes for the record it did make me laugh too, I realized it was because they had some things in common. First, they were both evangelists of sorts – Ron telling good news about the products he was selling and Mark telling good news about Jesus Christ. They both could generate excitement through their words. Ron had those stock phrases I mentioned and Mark had a couple of favorite words – “amazing” (just like Ron … maybe that’s the hook) and “immediately.” Mark uses the word “immediately” 41 times in 16 chapters to get you on the edge of your seat. And then, Mark slows the narrative down when he gets to Holy Week. You hear every sordid painful detail of what happened to Jesus – the last supper, the betrayal by one of his closest friends, the mockery of a trial, crucifixion and abandonment and buried in a borrowed tomb.

And then we get to chapter 16 … it is early in the morning, sunrise. The women go to the tomb to prepare the body and first address a problem … who will roll that stone away for them? But they get there and see the stone is already rolled away … Jesus is gone … a stranger tells them he is not here! He’s been raised! Go and tell the disciples, even Peter who denied him, that he is going to Galilee and he’ll meet you there! Yes!! Just when you think the pace will pick up again … the women flee in terror and amazement and say nothing to anyone because they are afraid. The End! Imagine you hear Mark tell you this around the campfire … what’s your response? “What??!! Wait … what happens next? Mark replies, “Not sure … that’s it … that’s all I got. Good night.” And we think … “But wait! Isn’t there more??”

There’s a disquieting lack of resolution. So disturbing is this ending of the narrative that at least three writers tried to “fix” the gospel by tacking on endings. Two appear in many versions of the Bible and a third appears in a few obscure manuscripts. Both of the popular tacked on endings have Jesus showing up. In the longer of the two endings, Jesus gives a discourse that borrows heavily from later writings and references some pretty odd things like drinking poison and handling snakes won’t kill believers. Nothing says “Happy Easter” like snake handling, right? Thankfully we don’t incorporate that into our Easter rituals! What these tacked on ending tell us is the unsettled ending of Mark really bugged the people in the early church. You’re not alone!

But this abrupt ending has a purpose and the older I get, the more genius I think there is in it. Mark’s gospel has ended with a messenger giving the women a command and a promise. The command is to “go and tell” and the promise is the risen Christ will meet you there. In the case of the women, they are commanded to go and tell the good news that Jesus, the crucified one, is not locked in a tomb but has been raised. He is heading to Galilee and will meet them there. While Mark implies the women did not say anything to anyone, stopping the narrative there begs the question - If the women didn’t tell who would? And this is why we are disquieted because we know the answer … it is up to you and me.

You see the Gospel of Mark ends but there are more gospels being written and they are written in the lives of believers like you and me who are charged with carrying the message forward. We too are receiving the commission through Mark’s story to “go and tell.” And we are also the recipients of the promise that in going, Christ will meet us there - he will meet us in the Galilees of our lives. Wherever we are going, whatever challenges we face, Christ will meet us there because he is already there. This is the gospel still being written – gospels which bear each of our names. Chapters are still being written as you and I live out our baptismal vows in striving for justice and peace, respecting the dignity of every human being, serving Christ in all persons, and being healers and reconcilers in his name.

You see the genius of Mark’s narrative now? He knows there is more and he knows how to leave you with a cliff hanger that will launch you past his narrative and into your own ministry right here, right now. I do believe Mark’s silence in the end resounds loudly with … “But wait! There’s more!”

Cringe worthy … that phrase for me describes the Passion of Christ and especially John’s version of it. Cringe worthy. Not only for the coldness and the brutality of it but also for how it portrays the Jews. The Jews shouting “Away with him! Crucify him!” is just … cringe worthy. Passages which are even more difficult for me to read this evening knowing that as the sun was setting, my Jewish friends are gathering at table to celebrate the first night of their most holy feast of Passover – the annual celebration of their liberation from the yoke of Pharaoh. Reading these passages here and being reminded of how over the centuries they have been used to rationalize anti-Semitism and blame the Jews as the killers of Christ. Cringe worthy indeed.

We cannot understand the anti-Jewish language in John outside of the context in which it was written. Scholars believe John to the be the last gospel written – likely somewhere around 100 to 125 C. E. At this point, there had been a complete break between the early Jewish followers of Jesus (those who followed The Way of the Nazarene as it was called) and the Jews who held traditional beliefs and did not accept Jesus as Messiah. Tensions rose as a result of the failed Jewish Revolt which resulted in the destruction of the Jerusalem temple in 70 C. E. The early Jewish Christian community refused to join in the revolt resulting in the Jewish community feeling betrayed. Tensions continued to rise over the following years so that by the time John wrote his gospel, it was laden with anti-Jewish sentiment. Resentment and hurt spilled into the pages – resentment and hurt which would be later used to justify all manner of violence against the Jews.

While today we like to think we read these texts with the context in mind and that anti-Semitism is a thing of the past, don’t believe it. The case of Tom Schweich in Missouri says otherwise. For those of you not familiar with it, Tom Schweich was a gubernatorial candidate in Missouri, a devout Episcopalian and a devoted public servant. A few weeks ago, Tom Schweich died by suicide. He called his priest who happened to be the former senator from Missouri, Father (Senator) John Danforth. In that conversation, Tom discussed how a whisper campaign had been launched by his rival and the head of the state’s Republican party insinuating he was a Jew. The fact that in Missouri, in 2015 no less, the rumor that one was “a Jew” would derail someone’s political career proves we are not over our anti-Semitic tendencies … not over our capacity to scapegoat.

Scapegoating is what we do. The term scapegoat comes from an ancient Jewish ritual described in Leviticus 16 where the priest would symbolically lay the sins of the people on a goat and then the goat would be driven into the wilderness to die. While symbol and ritual are important, the problem of the scapegoat is that in laying the sins of the people on another, it removes the responsibility from the people to face their own brokenness and sin. By removing this responsibility, it becomes easy to project one’s darkness into something or someone else and perpetuate our violence.

Jesus was the scapegoat this day. He went up against a political and religious establishment’s rule which served to marginalize and oppress people – rules meant to keep some in and many out. He repeatedly pointed out the sin of the powers that be – and the powers that be struck back rather than face their own sin and culpability. Jesus bore the weight of projected sin, theirs and ours, to the cross.

We know about scapegoating. We do it ourselves and it has been done to us. It is far easier to blame and project our fear and suffering than to face it honestly and let it transform us. Tonight we gaze at a cross – the symbol of what happens when we engage in scapegoating.

This night, I leave you with a reflection from Brother Karekin Yarian who blogs under the name PunkMonk. He is a professed member of the Brotherhood of St. Gregory in the Episcopal Church. I share this with his blessing and permission and it is entitled “Reproaches for the Modern Age”:

My people, what have I done to you
How have I offended you? Answer me!

I sent you a Son to teach you how
to remake the world with Love,
but you married yourselves to power
and bartered that love for allegiance.

My people, what have I done to you?
How have I offended you? Answer me!

Holy is God!
Holy and strong!
Holy immortal One, have mercy on us!

For two thousand years you’ve beaten
my chosen Israel, scattered her to the wind.
You chose gas chambers, and progroms,
and pit the world against my beloved.

Holy is God!
Holy and strong!
Holy immortal One, have mercy on us!

I proclaimed freedom to the Nations,
taught you justice by bread and not the sword;
but you made slavery an industry
and turned my children into chattel
and hanged them from trees
burning crosses in my Name.

Holy is God!
Holy and strong!
Holy immortal One, have mercy on us!

For your sake I sent prophets
and teachers to bring you back to Love.
But you turned that love against me
murdered those voices and proclaimed me dead.

My people, what have I done to you?
How have I offended you? Answer me!

I led you from slavery to freedom
and you use it to make captives
in prisons, on death rows, by laws
to hold the weakest in their place
rather than raise them up.

My people, what have I done to you?
How have I offended you? Answer me!

I opened the world before you,
but you have used her resources near to death.

My people, what have I done to you?
How have I offended you? Answer me!

I led you on your way by a humble servant,
but you turned him to a warrior King.

My people, what have I done to you?
How have I offended you? Answer me!

I strengthened you with bread and wine,
but you withheld the crumbs from the poorest.

My people, what have I done to you?
How have I offended you? Answer me!

I gave you living water from the well,
but you have sucked it dry from greed.

My people, what have I done to you?
How have I offended you? Answer me!

For you I humbled kings and rulers.
but you raised up tyrants in their place to scold me.

My people, what have I done to you?
How have I offended you? Answer me!

I gave you a royal priesthood,
but they locked their tabernacles against my presence.

My people, what have I done to you?
How have I offended you? Answer me!

I raised you to the height of hope for the world,
but you buried my cross beneath a mountain of gold
and used my Name to bless your hate.

My people, what have I done to you?
How have I offended you? Answer me!

(C) 2015, Karekin M Yarian, BSG

“Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father … and during supper Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from the table, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him.”

Tonight we hear of washing feet and a new commandment to love one another just as Christ loved us. Tonight I want you to hear of another dinner party involving feet and love poured out:

“Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, ‘Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?’ (He said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it.) Jesus said, ‘Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.’”

All of the gospel writers tell the story of Jesus being anointed by a woman, but their details to not agree. In Matthew and Mark, the woman is from Bethany and anoints Jesus’ head at the home of Simon the leper. The anointing of the head with oil or perfume was a ritual act done by prophets who anointed the kings of Israel and Judah. This was not an act done by women! But in the upside down order of God’s kingdom, it is fitting that Jesus would be anointed “Christ” by a woman in the house of another outcast – a leper. Luke says the story happened at the home of Simon the Pharisee and the woman anoints Jesus’ feet. John appears to borrow from both traditions and names the woman – Mary, the one who sat at Jesus’ feet to learn and the sister of Martha … and Lazarus whom Jesus had just raised from the dead. I confess I find it frustrating that the gospel writers are so meticulous in getting the details about which man said what to whom and where but mostly neglect to even name the women who say or do anything.

But there is a connection and John is going to great lengths to make sure you see it. His framing of the anointing by Mary at Bethany happening “six days” before the Passover sets both the anointing and the foot washing within the same Sabbath cycle. Early Jewish Christians would have understood – John sees these two events as connected and wants us to see the connection too. Just as Mary anointed Jesus’ feet Jesus washes the disciple’s feet (even the feet of the one who would betray him). Both actions are those of extravagant and sacrificial love. John mentions the cost of the perfume: 300 denarii – a year’s wages! Mary may have been saving this perfume for her own burial or that of a loved one. But now, now she gives it all away – she is all in. She knows at some level that Jesus’ time is short. She lives in a world where she has learned you don’t confront the authorities and you go along to get along. Jesus has provoked the powers that be and nobody does that and lives to tell about it. She empties the jar of perfume without hesitation – and the fragrance fills the house! Likewise Jesus empties himself emotionally and spiritually to wash the feet of his disciples. He sacrifices his ego and his status as their teacher to take the role of a slave and tells them they are to do the same.

It is telling that both of them get pushback for their actions. Matthew and Mark say the disciples as a group were indignant and offended by the unnamed woman’s actions. Luke says Simon the Pharisee was offended. John appears to take Matthew and Mark’s account and assign it to Judas Iscariot – berating Mary for her extravagant waste. If you think about it … Peter is doing something similar this night. In a way, he is berating Jesus for extravagantly wasting his status and trying to preserve Jesus’ “dignity” in refusing to have his feet washed.

Extravagant love is messy. It makes us very uncomfortable. It disturbs our neatly ordered lives because it demands the death of our egos. It demands we let go of everything we think and believe about ourselves – our carefully crafted personas and the various privileges they confer on us. It demands we let go of all the attachments and addictions with which we desperately fill our lives in a futile attempt to avoid pain, suffering and death. Extravagant love is messy because in the end, it means we must die … and that’s the last thing we want to do.

“Love one another as I have loved you.” Love one another the way Mary loved Jesus. Love one another with the messy love that began this earthy journey amidst blood and water at a cradle and will end with a flow of blood and water on a cross. Love one another unto death.