Hidden with Christ

Easter turns the world upside down. It defies our expectations with hiddenness and bluntness: Mary does not recognize the resurrected Jesus (John 20:14), the good news is heralded by an earthquake and terrifying angels and is brought to the women of the church first, rather than to the Twelve (Matt. 28:1-10). The radical reversals prophesied in scripture and revealed in Christ’s life and ministry culminate in the good news we proclaim today: Christ, through death, has triumphed over death. “The stone that the builders rejected has become the chief cornerstone” (Ps. 118:22).

 

Easter offers the mystical possibility of transformation in every moment. In this season, what is dying and what is being born? For our communities? For our families? For our world? What is breaking open like a seed to die (John 12:24) so that new life might thrive?

 

The theme is framed candidly in Colossians: “You have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God (Col. 3:3). In the season of Easter, we are invited to allow old husks to fall away so that Christ’s new life may emerge. This part of the resurrection story is strange, unsettling. We are invited, after all, to share fully in Christ’s death as well as his resurrection (Rom. 6:5; 2 Cor. 4:10-11). Terrifying, but in the mystery of the Holy Spirit’s work in us, we receive it as hope (1 Peter 1:3).

 

On this Easter day, we are honest about how God is stirring us to transformation, and we may be called to faithfully lament the letting go. Almost simultaneously, as we embody Christ’s resurrection in the present, we celebrate it with great joy (Matt. 28:8). In our desire to be hidden in Christ’s abundant life (John 10:10), we can even name seasons of suffering as Christ’s resurrection emerging (Phil. 3:10).

 

From Sundays & Seasons

It Is Finished

Throughout his ministry Jesus turned things on their heads: the last became first, the poor were blessed, the blind could see. In parable and miracle Jesus brought a dominion that was set against the kingdoms of this world. In the circumstances of his death, he did away with the accepted structures of power and weakness, justice and retribution. Jesus’ crucifixion was the ultimate manifestation of the paradox of the dominion of God: the king who only days before rode triumphantly into the royal city is crucified as a criminal. The Messiah is a suffering servant. The Son of God is willing to die so that we can live.

 

John’s gospel tells the story of how God accomplished, in Jesus, the fulfillment of scriptural prophecy about the one who would bring God’s people into reconciliation with God’s own self. In the story of the passion, Jesus’ inexorable journey toward the cross, which is the culmination of this prophecy, picks up speed. Then, with Jesus’ dying breath, the journey is over. With the words “It is finished,” Jesus’ mission is complete. His passion and his suffering are finished; the centuries-long wait for the Messiah is finished. God’s ultimate disruption of our efforts to save ourselves, and the astounding reversal of human expectations, is accomplished.

 

On Good Friday, we meditate on the consequences of God’s sacrifice, the church proclaims the good news that the cross of Christ is not only necessary, but also sufficient for our salvation. With the command of Maundy Thursday lingering in our ears and hearts, Good Friday reminds us that the freedom to obey Jesus comes as a gift from God through the cross of Christ. At the cross, our old life of captivity to sin is finished, and our new life of discipleship begins.

 

From Sundays & Seasons

All You Need Is Love

Maundy Thursday we hear Jesus’ command to love one another is not about having good feelings for each other or being “nice.” Jesus tells his disciples that they are to love one another “just as I have loved you.” By this definition, love means compassion, mercy, and plenty of hard work. As we see in today’s gospel, Jesus’ love is active in service and, ultimately, sacrifice. All we need is love, but to love as Jesus loves is no easy thing.

 

Jesus’ love is also inclusive, not meant only for the inner circle. Taken in the context of Jesus’ teaching and ministry, his love, and the love he has in mind for us, is offered to all of humanity and, in fact, all of God’s creation. The world will know that the church follows Jesus not only by our behavior within our own community, but also as we relate to the world. To love as Jesus loved is to cross boundaries, to stand with the lowliest among us, and to challenge the accepted ways in which the world does business.

 

John’s is the only gospel in which Jesus does not institute the Lord’s supper at his last Passover with the disciples. At John’s last supper Jesus gives himself to them in a different way. His washing of his disciples’ feet is an enactment of his witness to the dominion of God: the first will be last; the lowly will be lifted up; whoever loves their life will lose it. This act of self-sacrifice, one which prefigures his death on the cross, is a living example of Jesus’ countercultural definition of love, one which he passes on to the twelve and to us. Washed by Jesus in our baptisms, we too are blessed with and challenged by God’s love in Christ and the command to share that sacrificial love with the whole world.

 

From Sundays & Seasons

The Palm Sunday Paradox

On Palm Sunday we encounter the paradox that defines our faith: Jesus Christ is glorified king and humiliated servant.

We too are full of paradox: like Peter, we fervently desire to follow Christ, but find ourselves afraid, denying God. We wave palms in celebration today as Christ comes into our midst, and we follow with trepidation as his path leads to death on the cross.

Amid it all we are invited into this paradoxical promise of life through Christ’s broken body and outpoured love in a meal of bread and wine. We begin the week that stands at the center of the church year, anticipating the completion of God’s astounding work.

From Sundays & Seasons

"God so loved the world" - do we?

“God so loved the world” may be a familiar affirmation, but it has radical implications.

If God loved the world into being and loved it so utterly that God became incarnate in Jesus Christ, then everything we do to restore the web of life is an expression of our faith in the God who loves the whole creation. When the natural world is degraded by climate change, habitat loss, and pollution, Christians must bear witness to God’s steadfast love for the planet God entrusted to our care.

Who will believe the declaration that “God so loved the world” (John 3:16) if we ourselves do not? By committing ourselves to join with others in safeguarding God’s creation, we share in the ministry of Christ, through whom God reconciled all things (Col. 1:19-20).

from Sundays & Seasons