Physical Therapy

Sermon prepared for Messiah Lutheran Church, Auburn WA
by Pastor Greg Kaurin
April 18, 2010

Text: John 21:1-19

Physical Therapy

They counted them: 153 large fish. For 2000 years, people have puzzled over the meaning of that number, 153; I think it was just John’s way of describing their surprise and his memory, “I was there, and I remember it exactly. We counted them…153 fish!”

And then, this exchange between Peter and Jesus. Every year, something new occurs to me. This year, it’s when Jesus asked Peter, “Simon Peter, do you love me more than these?” There’s a couple possible ways to read that question, and both are meaningful. Jesus could have been asking, “Look at all this, Peter, your old life, fishing with nets, the boat, the beach, the comfort of these friends, but do you love me more, enough to leave this behind?” Three years earlier, Jesus performed this same miracle and called Peter and some of the others to follow him, “And,” Jesus said, “you will be fishing for people.” Jesus might have been asking Peter, “Are you ready, now?”

The other possible meaning is that Jesus may have been reminding Peter of the time, just before the arrest and crucifixion. Peter had boasted to Jesus and said, “Even if all these others fall away, I will never desert you” (Matthew 26:33)! I love you more the most, Lord! That very same night, it was Peter who denied even knowing Jesus… three times.

You know, even after that strange and wonderful Easter day, the Appearances to the disciples, and last week to Thomas, this had to be eating at Peter. He had to be wondering every time the risen Christ looked at him, “Does Jesus know: how I ran and hid like the rest, and what I said?” So, Jesus chose this moment to uncover that wound.

There on the beach Jesus asked him the first time, “Do you really love me, Simon Peter, more than these?”
“Yes, Lord, you know I do.”
“Then, (1) feed my lambs. Simon, son of John, do you love me?”
“Yes, Lord, you know I love you.”
(2) “Tend my sheep.” And finally Jesus matched Peter’s denials asking once more, “Simon, Son of John, you love me?”
“Come on, Lord, you know everything. Yes, I Iove you.”
And Jesus answered, (3) “Feed my sheep.”

We could dig into the fact that in the Greek New Testament, Peter and Jesus were each using different words for love. Jesus was asking for agape, or selfless love, and Peter kept coming back at him with philos, or friendship. There are some great insights to draw from that. But the main thing to point out is that for the three times he denied Jesus, Jesus let him to counter each with a statement of love. But Jesus did even more. He added mission, something to do to get Peter moving.

After a knee or hip replacement, what do doctors want you to do as soon as possible? To get it moving. Very soon you’re into physical therapy. Why? They don’t want your joint to freeze or muscles to atrophy.

T3his can happen spiritually. Even after blowing it, and receiving grace, and hearing forgiveness, we can still get stuck. We can keep returning to that sin, that ache, confessing it again, and hearing the words of forgiveness, again and again. And sometimes we wonder why we just can’t seem to let it go. Why do we sometimes have such a hard time taking God at his word, letting go of something, and moving on?

Or, worse, is to be the person who maybe never denied Jesus the way Peter did, or never ran away like the Prodigal Son, and each week returns to hear how much God loves them, and each week sings the songs, hears a nice sermon about Jesus’ love, and walks home, week after week, (sigh) basically unchanged.

One of my classmates is a professor now at Luther Seminary, David Lose. For the last year he’s been looking at studies on happiness and fulfillment, both in the secular world and the spiritual. The two primary things we seek, or that can help us feel happy or fulfilled are no surprise at all:
1) Community: do I feel like there are people who love and support me?
2) Purpose: do I have a sense that what I do matters.

What did Jesus give Peter that morning? He restored their relationship. “Simon Peter, do you love me?” “Yes, Lord, I love you.” Community. That is what is meant to happen here each Sunday, with Christ, and with each other. The peace of the Lord be with you all! [And also with you.] And then we exchange it; we are in Community with God and with each other.

And then, at the end of worship we say, “Go in peace” and do what? [Serve the Lord.] Thanks be to God. Purpose. Jesus said it this way to Simon Peter: Feed my lambs. Tend my sheep. Feed my sheep.

My friend from seminary also mentioned results from a survey taken of churchgoers in the United Kingdom. The results start out pretty good. Of those who regularly and voluntarily go to church, 96% say they look forward to hearing the message. Wow! It’s not always the top reason why they go to church, but 96% look forward to hearing what their preacher might have to say. But before any of us get too puffy, the survey also asked how clearly their preacher communicated God’s love. What percent would you guess? 60% of those surveyed said their preacher clearly communicates how much God loves them. Okay, considering all the different takes and preachers and denominations, that’s not horrible… unless you’re in the 40%.
Finally the survey asked whether the messages they’ve heard have had influence or somehow changed the way they lived. What would you guess for that? 17%. 96% look forward to it, 60% hear God’s love in it, but 83% walk away, Sunday after Sunday, basically unchanged, unaffected.

Several years ago, I was riding in one of our member’s pick-up trucks. We had been talking about prayer, and he said he was struggling with it. On the other hand, this was the same man who was constantly doing things for others and the church, because, he said, he felt close to God when he was doing it, could feel Jesus presence when he was helping and talking with them. Well, what do you think that is? That’s prayer, living prayer.

God opened the conversation when he first made you. He cleared the lines by forgiving and saving you, and promising that nothing would come between you, Romans, chapter 8. And now, what you say, whatever you do with your life is a response to him, for good or bad, we answer God with our lives.

What Peter in our gospel lesson needed to hear from Jesus was release. He could let go of his internal fears and worry, and then put that release in motion. He needed a new direction: to tend and feed others. Even after hearing forgiveness, we can still be stuck on ourselves, our own lives. Imagine a bird, you’ve nurtured it back to health. It should be ready to fly, so you open it’s cage, …and it sits there looking at you. This can happen to people or groups or churches.

We were put here for a reason, not just to be saved, not just to sing and worship. (“Yes, Lord, yes you know we love you!”) but also to take care of each other, to love and tend to the people God puts in our path, to do things that help suffering around the world.

This is our physical therapy. Probably one of the strongest units I know is right here. Messiah Lutheran Church of Auburn, WA. We do a lot of things well, and I’m sure there are many churches that outstrip us on the rest. But let that go. We don’t have to become the best in class; God won’t be impressed by how nearly perfect our work or results are. And he doesn’t want us to run higgly-piggly doing good, but to focus: Are we feeding God’s little ones? Literally and spiritually, are we feeding them? Are we tending the larger herd, the sheep, and feeding them? Are you? You could be quietly blessing or praying for each person as you meet them. Or working with someone specific.

You and I can do great things, but the greatest thing we can do is to show and tell someone that we care, and that God loves them. If one person is worth celebrating in God’s kingdom, then he or she is worth our patience and our time.

Let me be clear, you are loved by God, you are forgiven. That’s why we can say, “Go in peace.” You have community. You also have a purpose. You matter, and what you do matters. Your life is prayer. One of the reasons you are here this morning is to tell God how much you love him. Now, go and show him.

Not Among These Bones

Sermon prepared for Messiah Lutheran Church, Auburn WA
by Pastor Greg Kaurin
Easter Sunday, April 4, 2010

Text: John 20:1-18

Not Among These Bones

Last Friday the message was about Jesus' atonement; we talked about why the blood, why the sacrifice, and how God was joined in that moment with sufferers and sinners. This morning is about the rising, the declaration of his victory. And it tells us very clearly where to look to find Christ.

If you were here on Friday noon or evening, you've already heard this little story, but it fits Easter, too. Our two boys, Mac and Trevan, go to a Christian preschool/daycare, and they've been talking about Easter. So, less than a week ago, before bedtime, Mac, who's a little over 5, was telling me about his day, and he gave me his permission to tell you; in fact, he just about commanded it.

He said to me, "Dad, did you know: Jesus died for our sins?"

"Well, I think I heard something about that. Can you tell me more?"

"Yes, and after that, they went to his grave, and it was empty, ...because he was alive."

"That's great news, Mac!"

"Yes... And, Dad, you need to tell the people at church!"

"You're right, Mac, I probably should.”

But Mac was still looking at me as if I wasn't really getting the importance of what he was telling me. Finally, he added, "Because the other stuff you've been telling them is all wrong!"

Mac is right about the central message, and depending on how I say it, or how it's heard, the rest could all be just words, old bones, relics and myths from almost 2000 years ago. For many of you, you're here this morning because you believe that there is something to this dying and rising that's worth celebrating and singing. Others of you have your doubts, and everything in between. And all of us are welcome, just like the morning in our gospel, at Jesus' tomb.

The gospels tell us how Jesus' body was taken down and quickly wrapped and put in a tomb just before sundown on Friday when Sabbath began, and that the women watched and saw where they laid him. Then, before the first rays of light, Mary of Magdala, along with Joanna, Salome, and Mary the mother of James, and the Bible says several other women, all went together to finish caring for Jesus' body.

They went expecting to find his body where he was laid, in the tomb of a cemetery, among the bones. Instead, they find the tomb open. The other gospels, Matthew, Mark and Luke, speak of angels, men in brilliant cloth, asking them, "Why are you looking among the dead for someone who is alive? He's going ahead; you'll find him in Galilee. Go and tell the others."

And the reactions are across the board. Mark tells us that the women, or at least most of them were too afraid to say anything. Luke tells us that when Mary Magdalene and the others do tell the eleven, most dismiss them as a bunch of wishful women, an idle tale.

In John's gospel when Mary tells Peter and the other disciple, she didn't mention any angelic appearances. She herself did not believe, but was still convinced that someone had taken Jesus' body. Out from the eleven, our gospel tells us Peter and the other disciple, most of us assume John, ran to the tomb to see for themselves. John got there first and Peter barged past into the tomb. Finally, John joined him, saw the folded cloths, and in some small way, began to believe.

My point is that, based on the empty tomb and maybe even visions of angelic men, reactions were across the board, and for the most part, doubtful. Some were upset and angry that another injustice had been done to their rabbi, his body taken. Where; why? It belonged where they left it, among the dead.

Mary Magdalene was so sure of his death, even when Jesus stood right in front of her, she assumed he must be the gardener. "Tell me where you put him, so I can get his body, and put it back where it belongs." Here is the scene in the window to my right when Jesus said her name, and by the sound of his voice, she finally recognized her beloved Rabbi.

There are at least six Marys in the New Testament, and it's easy to confuse them: 1) Mary the mother of Jesus, 2) Mary of Magdala, 3) Mary the mother of James and Joset, who may also have been the wife of Clopas. There were two more Marys in 4) the book of Acts and 5) the letters of Paul.

Pr. Jon and I were batting this back and forth, and it occured to us that one of the Marys we most expected isn't in the list. And if she had been there, she would have been mentioned. 6) Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazareth. Neither she nor her sister are mentioned, and they lived in Bethany, a little more than two miles from the outskirts of Jerusalem where Jesus was killed and buried.

Some time before, Jesus ate at their house when Mary sat at as his feet listening to Jesus teach and leaving her sister, Martha doing all the work. Then, Jesus called Lazarus, their brother out of his tomb and back to life. And just a few days before he was arrested, Jesus was again in their house when Mary came in and anointed Jesus feet with ointment, rubbing his feet with her hair.

It's interesting that this Mary, so close to Jesus, and living so nearby to all this, goes unmentioned, neither at the crucifixion nor among the women who went to his tomb. Maybe she was just too heartbroken, and couldn't bear to be at his crucifixion, or to look at or touch his broken body.

But Pr. Jon and I were wondering if maybe, perhaps, as a witness to what Jesus did for her brother, and having heard his words, maybe because of all this, Mary already knew better than to look for Jesus among the dead, among bones. Not that she would've known exactly how or when, but that she now had a deeper faith, like Abraham's, that trusted the words Jesus had said at Lazarus' tomb, John 11:25, when Jesus said, "I am the resurrection and the life."

Jesus was not and is not found among the bones. Jesus comes in living form, sometimes with healing, and sometimes with wounds. He may be in the form of a gardener, or a teacher, a spouse, a child with a skinned knee, a cousin or friend, or a stranger, just someone reaching out to you. I hope you can listen and see a little clearer that it is more than a stranger or friend in front of you, but Jesus, who comes in the continued flesh of God through people. He is a God of the living.

Like the women and men who first heard about an empty tomb on that first Easter, it is no different today, all the same spectrum of disbelief, doubt, hope and faith. If you are wondering, or hoping or feeling it slip away, just think: if what we are saying is at all true, then it is probably worth looking into, deeper than what we can do on Easter morning. Come and listen, you might come to the ALPHA classes that are starting a week after this Tuesday night. That's exactly what ALPHA is for, to listen and question and consider for yourself whether this is an idle tale, or worth looking into.

For others of you, I pray this Easter day is like a brand new resurrection, with new life, and new eyesight to look at your world to discover that once again, Jesus is Lord over death. He is alive, and running ahead of us, to all the places he wants us to meet him and to find him.

6:30 AM this morning, Pr. Jon met in Mt. View Cemetery, overlooking Auburn, reading these same words. And the same message could be said there about Jesus. Where is Jesus? Not here among the bones, but look for him, he's gone ahead of you, down in the valley, in the town among the living, back among those who need him. Look for Jesus there, in the living.

“God of all grace, you sent your Son, our Savior Jesus Christ, to bring life and immortality to light. We give you thanks because by his death Jesus destroyed the power of death and by his resurrection has opened the kingdom of heaven to all believers. Make us certain that because he lives we shall live also, and that neither death nor life, nor things present nor things to come shall be able to separate us from your love which is in Christ Jesus our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen.” – prayer from “Burial of the Dead,” Lutheran Book of Worship, ©1978.

A Lenten Joy

Sermon prepared for Messiah Lutheran Church, Auburn WA
by Pastor Greg Kaurin
Palm/Passion Sunday, March 28, 2010

Text: Luke 22:14-30

A Lenten Joy

There is a novel about Martin Luther's wife, Katherine, titled, Kitty, My Rib. The author says that Luther was in one of his darker moments, moping about the house and staring at walls, until one day Katherine dressed in black and put a dark veil over face. Luther was surprised and asked if she on her way out to a funeral. "No," she answered, "but the way you've been acting, you've convinced me that God must be dead, and I thought I should join you in mourning."

She made her point. "Go change your clothes; and I'll get back to work," he said.

This is Palm Sunday or sometimes known as Passion Sunday. It is one of the strangest to plan because, first, just before we move into Holy Week, Jesus' walk to the cross, we start with this triumphant ride into Jerusalem, where people shouted “Hosanna!” and hailed him as the one who comes in the name of the Lord.

And I've always found it almost painfully ironic knowing how quickly this very same crowd would be shouting for his crucifixion, just a few blocks from where they stood. It's tempting to be cynical about it. Is this really the crowd we want to imitate?

But look at Jesus. Jesus knew all this. He knew what they would do, and still he rode that donkey, and received and blessed their songs. Because he loved them.

Then, just a bit later he would be in that upper room with his disciples, and even though he knew it was the last, look again at his words from Luke 22:15, "I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer." Eagerly desired. Other translations say he longed to eat this meal with them. When? "Before I suffer," Jesus said. How can you eagerly desire what you know will be your last meal?

Two things come to mind. First, Jesus, knowing it would be the last, treasured it, every second. In spite of knowing that Judas was sitting there with betrayal in his heart, in spite of fickle crowds, Jesus treasured that moment, even at his Last Supper.

And second, he knew that he was adding new meaning to this sacred meal. “This is my body, the blood of a new covenant, do this--whenever you eat and drink of it--in remembrance of me.” I have to believe, Jesus Christ, in that moment was not only sitting at the table with the twelve, but was seeing and talking to all of us, today and this coming Maundy Thursday.

When Jesus looked around that table, he saw Peter and James, Thomas and Judas, Greg and Pauline, Jim and Sophie... Me and you. And his heart, his God-size heart was filled with joy and love.

Next, skip a few more verses to Luke 22:28-29. Jesus said, "You are those who have stood by me in my trials; and I confer on you, just as my Father has conferred on me, a kingdom." Again, you have to keep in mind that Judas is about to betray Jesus, the disciples are going to scatter and hide. Peter is going to deny even knowing Jesus, and still Jesus said, "You are the ones who have stood by me... in my trials."

He knows how many times they will fall, how many times you and I fall short of such praise, and he is already forgiving, lifting, and strengthening, so that we can stand by him, and by others, in their trials. What gave him the strength? A deep compassionate joy, gratefulness for the time he had, a love.

I have titled this sermon, "A Lenten Joy" not to skip over the Via Dolorosa, the Path of Grief, that Jesus walked, but because this Lenten journey is not just pretending. Jesus was letting them know and setting the stage for his crucifixion, but also for his victory on the cross. The reason we walk the Via Dolorosa with Jesus is to enter more deeply into his passion, to discover how deeply and painfully God loves us. But the only reason we can walk that path is because the Via Dolorosa is also the path to victory.

As we get closer to the cross, I hope two things are happening for you this Lent, two things held in tension. First, I pray that the passion of Jesus, his suffering, cords and whips, each one, I pray that we remember: we did this to him, to our God. We do this to him, in every selfish turn we make. It should bring us to our knees.

Last Thursday morning in our Bible study, I said there should be fear and trembling in God's presence. We have no right to stand before him... We did this to him. We have no right to stand on this Rock of ages. ...Except that he was cleft, broken, for me. We have no right, and no righteousness of our own, ...except by his forgiveness, for his disciples, for the crowds, and us. We say that Jesus died for our sins, and that is true, and that is forgiveness. But more to the point, Jesus died for us, and that is love.

The second thing we can hold in tension is a deep abiding joy. "Amazing love, how can it be, that you my King would die for me?" The closer we get to his cross, the more this can build in us, Love so amazing, Jesus Messiah, my Savior.

The old traditional hymn sings about it in "O Sacred Head, Now Wounded." In your mind, look at your Savior, blood and spit running down, let your heart sing these words, "O sacred head, what glory, what bliss till now was thine / Yet, tho' despised and gory, I joy to call thee mine!" I joy! Right there, even in the heart of the crucifixion, Christian joy. A pride and joy, brave victory: "That's my King; that's my God up there! He did that for us!"

We aren't here to pretend. We live on this side of the resurrection. He will rise again, and give his disciples ...the eternal kingdom. Will any other god do this? Will fame or power? Will popularity or self pity? Will alcohol or self-indulgence? We would have no right to approach God's throne except that he cleaned us up, gave us Christ's victory, and called us to approach as his disciples and children, with boldness, the boldness of his Spirit, living in us.

This whole season of Lent, Sundays at our 8:15 worship, I've been especially struck by the Lenten Preface. It's a prayer before Communion that sings, "You bid your people cleanse their hearts and prepare with joy for the paschal feast." Maybe you didn’t know this, but in the mainline worship during Lent, we are supposed to refrain from saying or singing the a-l-l-e-l-u-i-a-word. I always have to grin a little whenever it slips in.

In the extreme, some have often wanted to cast a funeral pall over the whole season, no celebration. Kind of like Katy Luther wearing black, as if God died, or that Jesus never rose. Or as if his sacrifice wasn't quite enough so we need to keep sacrificing and groveling in shame.

I do feel we take seriously the need to use Lent to reflect and confess more honestly, to cleanse our hearts and enter the disciplines more deeply. Kind of like having soup for dinner, I think there should be a yearly paring down and getting back to basics. You know that, especially if you've been worshiping on Wednesdays with us.

But does this prayer say, "Prepare with shame and guilt?" No, here's a Lenten discipline that needs to be heard, "prepare with joy for the paschal feast." The Paschal is the Christian feast that completes the Passover, the Seder! It's the feast of victory every Sunday, and the feast to come. Christ ransomed us for heaven; he rescued us from sin, so Lent is a time to let go of the things hold us down, to clean house and to prepare our hearts with joy, with a building-Lenten joy that knows that because of the cross, we are bound for glory. Jesus did not stay down. Neither will we.

And so, that old Lenten Preface finishes, "Renew our zeal in faith and life, and bring us to the fullness of grace that belongs to the children of God." "That belongs to the children" not because we earned it, but because Christ did, and gave it to us. What did he say in our gospel? "I confer on you...a kingdom."

And I love that word, zeal. You have to do what it says. Say it once like this, ZEAL! What did it make your mouth do? Grin a big toothy grin. And zeal is a fighting grin that doesn't give up. In this context, it's a Lenten joy. [Up on screen: "Lenten Joy" - is a building trust and anticipation for the Victory of Jesus' Cross.]

Last Wednesday, before evening worship, I went for a run on the Inter-urban trail here in town. I had my earphones on, and my music was set for some of my favorite praise songs. Even though it was sunny when I started, not many others were out, so I was singing along, (a little out of breath) and of course, one of the songs started singing the a-l-l-e-l-u-i-a word, and I was singing along, ...not thinking about it, feeling good, till suddenly it got a little dark, a chill breeze, and rain started down. “Oops, sorry God. Didn’t mean to praise you… with that word…”

I joke a little; we don't need to take offense or gasp during Lent at these faux pas, but a little restraint, a little fasting is a good thing to build the awareness, the growing suspense and joy for Easter when after Jesus achieves his victory on the cross, then we can bust that word out in full congregational volume: "Jesus Christ is risen today! ..." ah-uh-uh; wait for it! First, let's eat a little, then walk with Jesus. This is the via dolorosa; and it is the path to victory.