Funeral Homily for Paul Guinn

+The Parable of the Good Shepherd, the first ten verses of which Pete just read as today’s Gospel, is, when you give it a careful and thoughtful read, a challenging text. But, because the image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd is so familiar to most of us, it’s hard for the more challenging parts of the story to come through.
Yes, Jesus is the Good Shepherd and we are his Sheep-- no matter how lost we get, no matter how tangled up in the bramble we get, He will always seek us, find us and bring us home. It is a nice image and Jesus does do all of that, BUT, there’s more to this story than cute little lambs and a gentle, loving and committed shepherd.
All that imagery comes in the middle of the parable and we don’t get the middle this year, we only get the beginning. And in the beginning, well in the beginning we hear a lot about the gate. It sounds, at first listen, that Jesus is saying there is only one gate that there is only one way into the arms of God that anyone who doesn’t follow this way, His way, is out of luck.
Now, while I agree that Jesus is the way and the truth and the life and that my salvation is gained through my belief and trust in him, I don’t believe that the way we know Jesus, the way we access God, is the only way God is reached nor do I believe that it’s the only way God reaches out to us.
I believe that God reaches out to humanity in various ways, ways that look very different to us but ways that, I think, all lead to the same place: the one sheepfold of God, the one kingdom of God. As Jesus says elsewhere in John’s Gospel, My father’s house has many dwelling places. Many dwelling places that are all under one roof.
Am I saying that you can get into heaven even if you don’t believe as we believe?
Absolutely. And I think Jesus is saying that too.
Now, before we go one, there are a couple of things you need to know about this story.
When Jesus talks about the gate of the sheepfold he is talking about the Shepherd. You see, as shepherds pasture their flocks they cover a lot of territory …sheep eat a lot of grass so they must keep moving along the country side to avoid overgrazing …so… when it’s time to stop for the night they have to create a sheepfold—a corral of sorts—along the way. Nowadays some shepherds carry lightweight portable fencing with them, but back in Jesus’ day they stopped for the night when they found a cave or some other enclosure to use as a sheepfold. The shepherd would get all the sheep in the cave and then would stretch out over the opening to keep the sheep in and the thieves bandits and wolves out. So, quite literally, the Shepherd functions as the Gate.
Jesus, by saying “very truly I tell you anyone who does not enter the sheepfold by the gate but climbs in by another way is a thief and a bandit,” is telling us that the only right way to get into the sheepfold is through the gate. He’s saying that he’s the gate, so the message is clear, right: You get into the sheepfold of God only when you enter the sheepfold through Him, through Jesus?
Well I don’t think so…
Here’s another thing you need to know about shepherds in the time of Jesus. They were despised by everyone except other shepherds. Their work was dirty and they were transient, so they had few friends and family… they had no real home village to speak of…. The shepherds had their sheep, and other shepherds…that was their community. Therefore, because they only had each other, it wasn’t uncommon for several flocks to gather in one cave for the night. Several flocks led by several different Shepherds meant the shepherds would take turns  being the gate throughout the long, cold night.
 So is the only way to God through the gate of Jesus, as we know Him?
No.
I believe that the sheepfold of God is immense and that the gatekeepers of the sheepfold are as wide and varied, as unique and as numerous as the stars in the sky.
And I think it’s why Jesus mentions the sheep knowing their own shepherd’s voice it suggests that more than one flock was in each sheep-fold-
It’s right there in verses 3-5:
The gatekeeper---the shepherd—opens the gate, calls His or her sheep and they Hear their shepherd’s voice. They recognize their shepherd and respond to their shepherd.
It’s the same message we’ve heard throughout Easter. Mary Magdalene hears Jesus’ voice and realizes that it isn’t the gardener at all, it is her beloved teacher, Lord and God. Thomas denies that Jesus is raised until such time as he hears Jesus’ voice and looks into his eyes and realizes that this man, this teacher is indeed his Lord and God. It’s what we heard last week in the Emmaus story---the disciples hearts burned as the stranger spoke to them and then, in the familiar act of sharing a meal they realize, they recognize that this is no stranger at all, but their friend, their teacher, their Lord, their God.
Jesus, as experienced through our sacred scripture, our worship and our traditions is our shepherd, we hear his voice and we recognize him.
This doesn’t mean that other sheep don’t hear another voice that they recognize and follow.
They do. Jesus tells us they do. He says: They will not follow a stranger, because they don’t know the voice of strangers. Right here, smack dab in the middle of the cozy little story about sheep and their shepherd, Jesus tells us that there are many ways to know God, to worship God, to love God. The issue isn’t how we do it, the issue is that we do it.
So my fellow sheep, my fellow shepherds, may we come in and out of God’s incredible sheep fold to find the lost and bring them home to live that life of abundant joy, promised to us by God, through our Good Shepherd, Jesus Christ.
Amen and Alleluia!

Doubt gives us time to catch up to the reality of our lives. Wilson and Burt Easter 2 April 23, 2017

+Doubting Thomas. Poor guy...he gets a bum rap. Every single year preachers tackle this gospel with some version of “Thomas shouldn’t be called doubting, he should be called Believing, for once he encountered the Risen Christ he exclaimed: My Lord and My God!” Preachers---I’ve done it too---just dismiss the doubting part and move right into the believing part. But you know what? Lots of times we need to move through doubt in order to reach belief. That’s what happened to Thomas. And Thomas isn’t special—I think we all do it.
Doubt isn’t a uniquely bad thing Thomas did, it’s a common human thing that we all do.
Doubt is a moment in time, a step in a process.  It’s a time of bewilderment, of question---doubt arises when things aren’t clear---when all the evidence isn’t in yet or all the evidence hasn’t crystallized in our brains. Doubt happens when all that we know to be—the order of our world---is shattered.
When I worked as a psychotherapist, I served on a disaster response team. Our job was to mobilize in natural and human made disasters, being among the first responders to the scene. One Labor Day evening we were called out to a railroad crossing in a nearby village. A last blast of summer festival had been going on and a group of kids were hanging out by the crossing when an express train came down the track, striking and killing a local high school sophomore. I had the difficult task of informing the girl’s mother of her death. When given the terrible news, the mother calmly looked at me and said, “No that’s impossible, she was at the movies.” In that moment she was denying reality---then it hit her and she fell to the ground, sobbing. For those first few moments, she doubted the message I’d delivered. She doubted that anything this horrible could happen, but soon her brain began to assimilate it and the tragic truth became clear.
It’s not only bad news that can be met with doubt, good news can be equally difficult to fathom.
Whether it’s the people on tv who’ve won the publishers’ clearinghouse, or finding out you’ve gotten the job of your dreams or hearing that the cancer is gone----good news can take some time to sink in.
Doubt buys us time for the horror or the joy to fully engage.
Doubt gives us time to catch up to the reality of our lives.
In these early days of the Easter season, we have some catching up to do. We have an altogether new reality to face. So do the disciples.
 In those first few hours, those first few days following the crucifixion, the reality of the disciples’ life wasn’t pretty. The rabbi they loved; they had denied, the rulers they feared; they had defied. It wasn’t a good time to be a disciple…so when they hear from Mary Magdalene that Jesus is alive, do they run out looking for him carried by this thrilling and joyous news?
No, they remain paralyzed by their doubt, immobilized by their fear, stuck in their shame.
Human nature would dictate that the disciples feared Jesus. While thrilled that Jesus was alive, they must have had some trepidation about seeing him again after their desertion and their denial. But, this time, the disciples couldn’t run and hide. Because, even while behind a locked door, who should appear but Jesus—
Uh oh.
But Jesus, instead of “How could you?,” says, “Peace Be With You.” He doesn’t re-hash their failings but commissions them to go out and spread the Good News of Peace to the world.
He accepts their failings and loves them. He rejects their fear and loves them. He loves them. In spite of themselves.
This is radical. It’s shocking.
And it can take some getting used to!
Even though they’d heard it hundreds of times before, even though we hear it, week in and week out, this simple message of love, peace and forgiveness is hard to understand and it can be difficult to accept.
Thomas, along with the other disciples, needed to experience the reality of Jesus’ resurrection before they “got it.” Their doubt wasn’t a lack of faith, it was a lack of comprehension.
Thomas’ doubt bought him time to accept, to understand, to wrap his brain around all that had happened, so that, when he saw Jesus for himself he would, at least on some level, “get it.” Thomas’ doubt led his faith to a place of understanding. Thomas, given time, Got It.
On this day, the emotional roller coaster of Holy Week is over, we’ve proclaimed Christ risen, we’ve shouted Alleluia, we’ve rejoiced in the new light of Christ.
Today we sit back, along with Thomas and the other disciples, fully aware of what we’re capable of---killing God in the flesh—and aware of what God is capable of--peace and forgiveness.
This astonishing realization of what we can do and what God always does is shocking and takes some getting used too.
So, this morning we begin clearing doubt from our hearts and minds, and embrace the Truth as given to us through Jesus Christ:
That we must go out into the world seeking and serving Christ in everyone we meet.
To not rest until everyone, everywhere knows the Love that is God.
To not rest until peace isn’t just a goal but a reality.
To not run from fear, but to enter it courageously.
To not deny doubt, but embrace it for what it is and see what’s on the other side.
To forgive ourselves for what we’ve left undone while redoubling our efforts to do more.
To see the Risen One--to touch him, to know him and to call out to him “My Lord! My love! My teacher! My hope! My Savior.”
Alleluia and Amen.

The Journey of Holy Week is the Journey of our Lives Easter Vigil 2017 Trinity Hamburg

I have given a version of this sermon several times, each time adapted for the setting.

+ Several years ago, a 9 year old girl asked me why we go through Holy Week every year. After all, she said, we know it works out in the end! Of course we do know how the story ends and [this morning] tonight we stand at the dramatic and glorious climax of the Holy Week Drama—an empty tomb, a risen Christ—but, as I told that young lady a few years ago---we must walk through the drama of Holy Week each and every year because although the story doesn’t change, we do. We need the reminder, we need the journey. To paraphrase a history professor I had years ago, why does history repeat itself? Because people change. We need the same old story to guide us in the new, varied and divergent paths our lives take. We change, God doesn’t. We forget, God remembers. We stray, God remains steady.
And so we journey….from the triumphal march into Jerusalem, to the loneliness and despair of the garden, the bitter trial, the agony of the cross, the silence of death and finally, the joy of resurrection. What a walk!
Tonight we heard the story of salvation. From the first glimmer of new light we heard how God has, always and forever, saved us from our darker selves. From the Red Sea to the dry bones, from Bethlehem to Jerusalem, from Gethsemane to Calvary, from life to death and life again, God has reached out to us and for us.
Through the miracle of Easter we’ve been given, in clear and certain terms, A New Life in Christ. Well, more specifically, tonight we've been reminded of the new life in Christ given to each of us at baptism. In a few moments, when we baptize Zackary, we’ll be reminded that we’re marked, sealed as Christ's own. Forever. Then, strengthened by this knowledge we’ll go out from here committed to seeing Christ in all whom we encounter.
Why do we do this every year? Why must we repeat the history of the past two thousand years, year in and year out? Because we get lost. Because we forget. Because throughout life we all experience our own personal Holy Weeks, our own moments of doubt, despair, loneliness and fear.
I tried to tell that 9 yr old this; that her life will have ups and downs and that by remembering the lessons of Holy Week, she'll be better equipped to deal with the peaks and valleys of life, I hope she remembers it.
So, my brothers and sisters in Christ, what has Holy Week taught us?
What does this journey, from Bethany to Jerusalem , from Caiphas' prison to the hill at Calvary, from denial to doubt, from cross to tomb, from the death of Jesus back to life again,  teach us?
Palm Sunday: triumph has different meanings. I don’t think anyone really knew what to expect when Jesus marched into Jerusalem. No doubt many of the disciples thought that in Jerusalem, Jesus would topple the civic and religious structure of the day. I’m not sure any of them thought victory could come from the cross and the tomb. We cannot expect that the victory of  life will always look how we think it will. Sometimes victory comes swaddled in rags, born in a barn and killed like a common criminal.
Maundy Thursday. It’s important to take time for fellowship. Sit with family and friends—break bread together. The bonds formed over the dinner table are fierce and will hold, come what may. Sometimes, words are not needed. Sometimes those we love simply need someone to sit with them, to bear witness to the pain they are enduring. We can’t take pain away from others, but we can be a silent witness. My friends, never underestimate the power of your presence.
Good Friday: There will be times when our beliefs will be challenged, when we'll  be tempted to deny what we believe to be true and right because it isn’t popular or it’s too scary to stand up for what we believe. Folks, stand up for what is right as best you can, and when you falter-- and we all falter-- remember that God stands at the ready, waiting for you—for all of us-- to come to the home of God, where forgiveness always reigns.

Holy Saturday. Where is God?
There are days when we feel utterly alone and bereft. Know that deep within that sadness, at the very bottom of the well of loneliness there’s a small still voice weeping with us and for us, sharing in our pain. You may not feel it, but know that it is there and that you can count on it. None of us is ever alone, no matter what.
Easter—the Resurrection— Just as quickly as we find ourselves in the depths of despair we will be relieved and released from the pain. Suddenly it will be gone. The sadness will lift and joy will again reign. That's the journey of Holy Week, it's the journey of our lives---we will have ups and downs. We'll have our share of Easter joys and Good Friday losses. But---and this is the most important lesson any of us can take from our Christian journey----Holy week always ends in Easter, Darkness always gives way to light, and sin always loses out to grace and truth and love. Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia ---The Lord is Risen Indeed!+

It’s Not Finished Until Our Work is Done Good Friday Meditation on ‘It Is Finished’ St. John’s Grace 2017

Thank you for being here…I’m serious!
Holy Week isn’t particularly popular. And Good Friday? C’mon…
So THANK YOU for spending these hours to witness with Jesus as he slips from this life to eternal life, an existence promised to be so glorious and peaceful that at times, we long for it while at other times, most of the time, we fight against it, with all that we are and all that we have.
    And it is this very human of behaviors, fighting against the inevitability of death, that we witness happening to Jesus on the cross of Good Friday.
    I think this is what makes Holy Week in general and Good Friday in particular so unpopular----we are people of life, not people of death---we are people of hope not people fear---we are people of joy not people of despair.
Holy Week in general and Good Friday in particular brings us face to face with the one absolute guaranteed fact of life: death.
Now we know, those of us gathered here, that Easter will always follow Good Friday, that joy returns after despair, that hope will defeat fear and that out of death comes, always, glorious, glorious life.
But on this most holy of afternoons, during these three hours of darkness it isn’t Easter yet. Death has not been defeated, Pain is very real and the Savior of our world; our Teacher, our Hope, our Lord and our God has been nailed to a cross and life—his beautiful precious human life---is slipping out of his body. He’s in agony, he’s scared, he’s weakening. It looks---it feels--as if the despair, fear and death of the empire has won and that the joy, hope and life of the babe born in the manger has been utterly, thoroughly and completely beaten. That the love and light of Jesus has been snuffed out and the hate and darkness of tyranny has won.
But….and thank God for this BUT….our faith, the Faith given to us through the prophets of old, the Faith taught to us by the prophets of the not so recent past, give us what, to others must appear to be a foolish, outlandish, immature and absurd faith that death does not, and never will have the final word.
So when Jesus says “It is Finished,” this is not a proclamation of defeat, it is as scholars have said for generations, a proclamation of victory.
Jesus was proclaiming that his work as God taking on the flesh of this world, as the man Jesus, was finished.
And while that makes sense to me----haven’t you ever finished a long and painful task and although exhausted and maybe even in pain, you’re able to look at what you’ve accomplished and say, with satisfaction, “It is Finished!”----However, I can’t help but “hear” these words of Jesus as being tinged with less triumph than scholars would lead us to believe.
Look around the scene---everyone but a handful of women and the beloved disciple remain----Judas has betrayed, Peter denied and the others? Philip, James, Andrew, Thomas and all the rest have left. They’ve slipped into the temple crowds, hiding as best they can, denying all that has been, securing their place back into the status quo---can Jesus really feel victorious?
Yes, his earthly life is coming to an end: he’s taught all he could teach, he’s healed all he could heal, he’s challenged the temple authorities to the very end--- but the work?
The challenges to tyranny, the commandment to love one another, to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, comfort the broken-hearted…. that work?
It’s so very far from finished.
And so, on this Good Friday, we must admit that this work—this good and holy work is not finished and will not be finished, will not be complete—the victory of God will not be won until:
No one can walk into a school and kill an 8 year old boy who was simply in his special ed classroom, learning.
It won’t be finished, it won’t be complete, the victory of God will not be won until:
A young black man walking down the street doesn’t have to fear for his life at the hands of police officers simply because he is walking, or driving or hanging out while black.
It won’t be finished, it won’t be complete, the victory of God will not be won until:
The 130 million girls with no access to education will be able to go to school without fear and without reproach. That women will get paid an equal wage for equal work and that women and girls the world over will have full and complete control over their bodies. Always and forever.
It won’t be finished, it won’t be complete, the victory of God will not be won until:
The horror of climate change is accepted as fact and all the strength and wisdom of this world is given over to protecting what is left
It won’t be finished, it won’t be complete, the victory of God will not be won until:
The lost are found, the blind see, the naked clothed and the hungry fed.
It won’t be finished, it won’t be complete, the victory of God will not be won until:
We---you and me---go out into the world and do the work we have been given to do.
And what is that work?
To love.
Fully and Completely and Always.
To ask ourselves, not in the trite way of bracelets and t-shirts, but in the true and full way of Jesus on the cross, what would Jesus do?
For only in doing what it is that Jesus would have us do, only in loving everyone, everywhere, always, NO EXCEPTIONS—and that means NO MATTER WHAT---is it truly finished.
My friends, as Jesus breathes his last upon that cross, may we all be of good courage to do what we know is right. May we always walk the way of Christ crucified, the way of hope and faith and love.
The way that will lead us, at the end to sigh with our Savior, It is Finished, It is Finished, It is, indeed Finished…Thanks Be to God.