Mythbusters

First Sunday of Easter A
John 20:19-31

As I was preparing for a Lectionary Study this week, I came across the web Bible Study called Faith Lens, published by the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.  The study started off talking about a television show that I enjoy viewing called Mythbusters.  Here's how contributor Bill King describes the show:

Nominated for an Emmy and hosted by the jauntily bereted Jamie Hyneman and “stuff maker” Adam Savage, Mythbusters scientifically tests urban myths, outrageous propositions, and conventional wisdom.  The show has a particular fondness for myths which involve explosions, making a mess, or disgusting materials (they made a candle out of ear wax).  Some have called it “the best science show on television,” and few would dispute that it is the zaniest.  The show sometimes does silly things, like constructing a lead balloon, just to see if it can be done.  But beneath the laughter is a serious purpose, to illustrate how science separates fact from fiction.

What's so cool about the show is how Jamie and Adam try to test out urban myths.  Sometimes they are able to "bust" the myth and show that it's not true.  Other times they are able to verify that the myth is true, and still other times it's plausible.

When you read this week's gospel in John about good ole "Doubting Thomas" you might think about how Tom wanted proof of Jesus' existence.  There will be talk about how doubt is important in the life of faith and we will try to hold him up as a modern hero who didn't just want to believe something because someone told him.

These are all good things to note in the text, but what if there's something more here that we aren't seeing.  What if this text is not just about doubt and faith, not just about the Risen Savior, but also a message for the church,  the body of Christ?

In his lectionary reflection this week, Russell Rathburn expresses his interest in the actual body of Christ:

After crashing through all that at break neck speed, John slows it down to spend the majority of this verses focusing on his Body. Thomas says he wants to see the Body, see the wounds. Jesus arrives and very graphically shows him the wounds, and in a very intimate gesture, invites him to place his finger/hand inside them. There can be no doubt that this is the Body of Jesus the Christ, very man, very God.

That Jesus literally, physically rose from the dead is the foundation of the Christian faith. This Sunday’s reading starts and ends with it, giving just a verse each to the Great Commission, Pentecost, the rest is all about the Body. After so much emphasis on the Body of Jesus through the Lent and Easter seasons, how do we preach with out one? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe? There really are not any other options are there?

The question that hits me here is Russell's talk about the body of Christ when there isn't a body anymore.

But what if there is a body?  What if Christ's ressurection wasn't only about the physical resurrection, but also about how the ressurection lives in the life of the gathered community, the Church?

Thomas wanted to experience Jesus for himself.  He did not want to rely on the experience of others.  Belief for Thomas was not about accepting creedal statements, but about a relationship and if he couldn't experience a body, then what's the point?

Now for a moment, think about the body of Christ as the church, because in the here and now that's what modern Thomases are looking at when they want to see Jesus.  They aren't looking to just accept a doctrinal statement, but they are looking to commune with the Body of Christ.  In this present age, there isn't a physical body to talk about, but Christ is found in the Church, the folks who believe in Christ and abide with him.

Maybe, just maybe, if the church can live as a community called, gathered and sent by God to preach the good news, then our modern Thomas will see Christ.  Maybe if we live as a community of forgiven sinners, then our modern Thomas will see Christ.  Maybe if we welcome all to the doors of our churches, then our modern Thomas will see Christ.

As you prepare to preach or teach this Sunday after the Ressurection, think about what it means to be the Body of Christ in our world.  How do we witness to the Living and Risen Christ?

Go and be church.

Dennis Sanders is the Associate Pastor at First Christian Church in Minneapolis.

Cruise Control

Easter Sunday A
Matthew 28:1-10

I have to believe that one of the most beautiful inventions has to be cruise control in cars.  There's something kinda cool about pressing a button and having the car basically drive itself during long trips.  All I have to do is sit back, relax and the car drive itself.

Okay, I don't just let the car drive itself.  I do have to keep my eyes on the road.  Cruise control doesn't mean I get to excuse myself from driving- I still have to be alert and ready for any changes on the highway.

Easter can be both a blessing and a curse.  It's a blessing of course because Jesus defeated the powers of death and arose on that Sunday morning long ago.  But it's also a curse, because it comes at the end of a long week and we are just plumb tired.

But maybe what really makes Easter a curse is that we've done it so many times.  We sing the same songs and preach the same sermons year after year.  I don't know about others, but there have been moments when I feel that this has all be done before.  Ressurrection is so first century.

It's easy to go on cruise control when it comes to Easter.  But I wonder if doing that means we miss what might be going on in the story.  I wonder if we miss how this old story is not so old in reality.  Maybe in reading this story again, we will see where new life is springing up in our own lives.

The gospel text today has a lot going on, but I want to focus on one group of characters: the women.  If you want an example of what it means to live without hope, it has to be the two Marys.  These women had a close relationship with Jesus and believed that this guy was special.  Then he ends up getting killed.  They come to the tomb on Sunday morning without any hope.  Another idealist is killed.  Cynicism wins again.

I think back to my time in Clinical Pastoral Education.  I remember meeting a young man who lost one leg in an accident.  I would spend time in his room where he would say very little to me.  His face was one not simply of sadness, but one of profound grief.  He was only 21.  He had a future ahead of him.  But the future was now more cloudy and his face told me had little hope.

That is what these women felt.  There are times in our lives when we feel that there is no hope that things will change.  No hope that someone will get better; no hope that you will get that job; no hope that a loved one will quit drinking.

And then, there's an earthquake, and an angel appears saying that Jesus is no longer at the tomb but alive.  I have to believe the Marys thought it was a joke.  But if they thought that, they didn't think it for very long.  Matthew says the left with fear and great joy.  As they run to tell their friends the good news, they meet Jesus, alive and well.  Where there was no hope, there was now hope. 

The message of Easter is one of hope, but it starts in a place where there is no hope.  It starts in the way things are in the world.  If someone is dead, they kinda stay dead.

But hope has a different agenda.  It can bring life where there was no life and healing where there was sickness.  It reminds us that God is there with us, even when we feel abandoned.  Hope is there even when everything is tell us that there is no hope.

As you go to your faith communities this Sunday, please don't operate on cruise control.  Read the Easter story again and think about the two Marys.  Think about the disciples or the guards.  Read the story again and pay attention.  Think about hopelessness. Think about helplessness.  Think about love. Think about hope.  Think about it all and believe the good news that Jesus is alive and well.

Christ is Risen!

Dennis Sanders is the Associate Pastor at First Christian Church in Minneapolis.

Year A, Seventh Sunday of Easter / Ascension of the Lord

Before we begin, I just wanted to share a few words about the nature and purpose of this blog. Each week there will be a contributor, who will read the lectionary texts and then reflect and meditate upon them. Afterwards, they'll post a bit of a reflection for the purposes of starting discussion. The key to this blog is going to be DISCUSSION. We won't be posting research papers or highly thorough exegetical analyses. We'll simply be posting thoughts, stories, or questions in hopes to get discussion going. If you're here looking for pre-made sermons you're in the wrong place. If you're here looking for ideas and discussion, and are willing to share your own, then you're in the right place.

Year A, Seventh Sunday of Easter/Ascension of the Lord

Acts 1: 6-14
I am a movie junkie. I love the art of cinema. Consequently, I find that sometimes some of the greatest theological questions or lessons can be taught and asked through the metaphors that film provide us with. On the other hand, cinema can often fall very short of providing adequacy, or it can habituate us to an expectation of things that is quite the opposite of what we find we're dealing with in scripture.

Consider the ascension of the Lord. If Hollywood made this story it would be short and sweet and would end with a "To Be Continued." Jesus, the protagonist, would be the main and only emphasis. Hollywood would see Jesus ascend into heaven and then not know what else to do. There would be the promise of his return, but without the hero the movie can't go on. But in Acts this is not the case. Jesus ascends and leaves the scene, and yes his return is promised, but in the Lukan narrative he is no longer the only focus of the story. The story can continue on without the hero. The men in the clouds ask the disciples what they're looking at, what they're waiting for, in effort to redirect their focus to its appropriate place: life on earth, here, and now. And immediately they return to Jerusalem and refocus their attention and efforts on continuing Christ's ministry.

In Hollywood, the story is dependent upon the hero.
In Acts, the story is now dependent upon the disciples. And the same remains true today. The continued story of Jesus and his ministry is dependent upon his followers. We are promised the return of Christ. And until that time we are Christ in the world. How great an opportunity we have to carry out the ministry of Christ! And how great a responsibility!

Psalm 68: 1-10, 32-35
As I read this Psalm I am struck by its marvelous imagery. As I read this Psalm, I'm not really so cognizant of the military dynamics, historical references, or much else the commenatators focus on. I see this imagery, these semantic representations of God, their depictions of God's grandeur and stature, and I wonder if perhaps my own image and vision of God is a bit too small.

1 Peter 4: 12-14, 5: 6-11
How little we understand the "fiery ordeal" the early Christians suffered, and which the writer of 1 Peter addresses. Persecution for our faith is not something 21st Century American Christians are very familiar with. We may see a court decision go a certain way and feel as if we're persecuted. But when was the last time we saw someone burned or stoned or crucified for being a Christian?

The second section of this text serves as a reminder to us to stay vigilant in our faith and to not allow the Church to be destroyed because of our willingness to give in to external forces and pressures. This was originally a call to the believers not to renounce their faith under persecution, not to give in to the political powers which sought to destroy the Church. But in our context, with our lack of persecution by physical violence, how might we understand the implications of this text? What forces are at work that seek to turn us away from Christ? What forces are at work that seek to destroy the Church? What does it look like, or what does it mean, for us to resist those forces?

John 17: 1-11
We often think about praying to God. We think about the celebrations and the burdens in our lives and about bringing those things to God in prayer. We often pray for others and ask others to pray for us. But how often do we consider Jesus' own prayers and the ways he prayed for us? This text contains a major prayer of Jesus in which he prays for himself, for his disciples, for the world, and for his future believers.

What might we learn about Jesus' desires and motivations by examining his prayer? What might that say about our own desires and motivations? What might Jesus' prayer say about our own prayers? And what difference does it make that Jesus prayed for us?

Dan Mayes