She intercedes, she whispers, she shouts, she pokes, she prods. The Holy Spirit is here. Pentecost 2015

+Imagine if someone’s first time in a church was either last week or this? Bodies visibly rising to heaven, tongues of fire, creation having labor pains and some ramble by Jesus about the spirit of truth testifying for him in the guise of an advocate.
Christianity—accessible! Understandable! Do-able! Yay…GO CHRISTIANITY.
So, I think I need to begin today by laying out the facts of Pentecost and then talking about the reality of it.
First of all, let’s get the Holy Spirit pronoun issue out of the way. In orthodox traditions, of which we are one, The Holy Spirit  is referred to in the feminine. It’s a tradition that goes back to the time of Jesus but has just recently been resurrected by scholars. It seems some men took offense at women having any type of connection to God so they replaced the female imagery of the spirit with the male.
It makes sense that the spirit be feminine, after all, Jesus is male and God is either no specific gender or is all possible gender identities…who knows…so by referring to the Spirit in the feminine we cover all gender expressions.
Now, onto the name—Pentecost---nothing fancy here, Pentecost simply means the 50th day. Jews have a holiday that obviously predates the Christian Pentecost—it’s called the Feast of Weeks and it commemorates Moses receiving the Torah on Mt Sinai. According to Jewish tradition this commemoration, called Shavu’ot is held 50 days after the first day of Passover. On that first Christian Pentecost, Jerusalem was teeming with people, for Shavu’ot is one of three observances that required the Jews of ancient times to go to Jerusalem and worship in the temple.
So the city was packed and because a crowded city put everyone on edge and an edgy city didn’t bode well for the followers of Jesus, the disciples were hiding, caught between the traditions of their Jewish faith and the bewildering happenings of the previous few weeks—crucifixion, resurrection, ascension and now, today, crazy wind and flames falling from the sky.
As I’ve said many times, Jesus NEVER does anything by happenstance, so sending the Holy Spirit on this day, at this time was by design. It was another example of Jesus saying, this is the new way….the Torah got us this far, but now we have farther to go, we have a different way to try. And, just as he had promised, Jesus is sending us an instrument through which, His work of redemption for this world can and will continue.
But, much like the dramatic ascent into heaven of last week, the Holy Spirit on this last day of the Easter season, on this 50th day, arrives in style, on tongues of fire and in gusts of violent wind.
OK so now we know what to call her and where the name of Pentecost came from and why the disciples were all in one place…but just what or who is the Holy Spirit?
Well she isn’t anything. Or she’s everything.
We can’t see her, but she’s everywhere, we can’t hear her, but she speaks volumes, we can’t touch her, yet we do feel her.
The reality of the Holy Spirit is this: she can’t be explained, she needs to be experienced. She can’t be defined, she needs to be felt, she can’t be corralled, she must be allowed to run free.
Oh and she’s everywhere, all the time…we just need to perceive her.
The scripture writers have tried to give us a story of the Holy Spirit being bestowed upon us, but the truth of the matter is, she’s always been here, moving among us, between us, through us.
Always.
But, as is often the case with human beings, we didn’t notice. Not because we’re bad or evil or ignorant, but because, in spite of the fire and wind for the most part the Holy Spirit is really subtle.
She is that still small voice whispering deep within us. The voice we can’t hear unless we quiet ourselves enough, still ourselves enough to notice.
She is that sense of inspiration, acknowledgement or realization that comes when you’ve finally left the issue behind, when you’ve turned to another task and in the middle of something completely different you have that “eureka” moment.
The Holy Spirit is when everything falls apart and we are angry, lost, sad, hopeless, confused and then, days later, months later, years later, we realize that if we hadn’t experienced that loss—the loss that felt overwhelmingly painful at the moment---we never would have experienced the joy of something altogether unexpected and new.
The Holy Spirit is when a group of people decide to tackle a problem---hunger, as witnessed in our people and pet food pantries; failing schools as witnessed by our interactions with School 54 and the Jim Eaton Summer Reading Program; the burden of a church campus too big and costly for a congregation as witnessed by Ascension parish’s bold and brave move this past winter.
The Holy Spirit moves among us and gives us the courage to do what we never thought we could. The Holy Spirit moves among us and gives us the audacity to do the things other people are shocked that we will actually do.
The Holy Spirit may not have a cute birth story or a miraculous resurrection tale. She may not be describable or definable, but She can be experienced and my friends we must do everything in our power to experience her.
  The Holy Spirit is God’s gift to us, she‘s the whisper in our ear, the shout in our heart, the hope in our soul. She‘s the nudge that leads us places we never thought we could go, she’s the detour that feels frightening but ends up being enlightening.
She’s the love we feel for one another.
She’s the hope we share with the world.
She’s the frustration we feel with the status quo, the anger we feel with injustice, the disgust we feel with evil.
She’s our conscience, she’s our longing, she’s our passion.
She’s here. Welcome her, and like so many who have walked before us, let her take us where we absolutely positively must go.
Amen.

Ascension is Weird---Ascension, Observed May 17, 2015 (preached at Church of the Ascension. GS was a Bishop Visit)

+Ok let’s face it, the Ascension is weird. Why did Jesus rise from the dead, hang out for awhile and then leave in a Technicolor, MGM drama-filled way? The quick answer is that I have no idea, but the more lengthy answer is this: I think Jesus walked the earth for a while after his resurrection and then physically and visibly “left,” for some very good reasons. Us.
The resurrection of Jesus, while the major part of our Christian faith, can be a little tough to fathom... And yet, at least for me, I know it to be absolutely true. But what if I’d actually known the man? What if I was a contemporary of Jesus? What if I’d lived in 1st century Palestine and counted Jesus as one of my friends? What if I saw him take his final breath, saw his body removed from the cross and laid in a tomb. What if, a few days later, that same very dead friend calls me by name, places my hand in his wounds, joins me for a fish breakfast and preaches one more sermon?
How does one deal with it? Think about how utterly FREAKED out you’d be. Of course you’d like to think you’d be grateful, joyful and happy. But at first I think most of us would have FREAKED out.
So, I think I get why we have this span of time---40 days to be precise---between Jesus’ resurrection on Easter morning and the Ascension of Christ into heaven. We need some time to adjust! [now full disclosure here---the Bible is a living document written by people at various times and for various reasons. Therefore I must report that many scholars believe that the Ascension of Christ, what we are commemorating today didn’t happen 40 days after Easter morn but most likely happened Easter night, or a couple of days later….but not 40. No worries though, in God’s kingdom there are no clocks or calendars, so time? It’s just an outdated concept. ;-) ]
So I believe the 40 days were, in many respects, a “do-over” for the apostles. They, with a resurrected Jesus by their side, get to revisit all the lessons he’d taught them. They get to see that all things are possible through Him. They get to understand that all the crazy mind blowing things he said and did were not side-shows, they weren’t the work of a mad man or a freak show. They were the work of a Savior, they were the work of a man sent by God, they were the work of God made human. They were the opening chords of a chorus of a new life. The apostles then and we now were granted some time to realize that God’s not kidding. Death is dead, darkness is defeated, loss is overturned, hate will not win, hope does live and God’s kingdom, a place where there is no longer Jew or Greek, Male or female, black white or brown, gay straight, rich, poor, Christian, Jew Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, atheist or agnostic.
God’s not kidding.
God loves us and God knows that with a little help we can make God’s goal of freedom, joy and love come true, right here and right now, one step at a time.
But still, why the spectacle of ascending into heaven? Couldn’t Jesus just have said good bye and disappeared? Why the show?
Well, I don’t think Jesus ever did anything without a very good reason so I think we need to consider why a bodily, visible Ascension was necessary. And again, as I said before that reason is right here, right now. It’s us.
Jesus knows that this isn’t the time for subtlety. Time is a-wasting and Jesus knew that we need to get busy, we need to get on with it. No gazing up at the sky, no waiting for Jesus to re-appear. It’s our time, it’s our turn, the time is now.
And this is where I want to get real personal with you all….how you, the people of the Church of the Ascension, live the Ascension out in so much of what you do individually and collectively.
You see when Jesus left his disciples he was saying, “I have to go, and I know that’s going to hurt you…it’s going to hurt me….but the reality is that if I didn’t go, you wouldn’t grow to be the people I know you can be.
Folks, we know a lot about saying good-bye, we know a lot about figuring out how to go on without any roadmap except for the roadmap of God’s love. Here we are, four months away from saying goodbye to 16 Linwood, we’re four months into our new home….thanks to Dennis and Mark we have a few of our things with us now….slowly but surely I hope 96 Jewett is becoming more like home. A lot of things have changed, but one thing hasn’t changed one bit.
Love for God, Love for our neighbor and Love for each other. You folks are amazing and I am so proud to be your priest. You see, when Jesus left he was leaving his work behind for us to do. You do it. You Love. You act on Love, You live in Love, You manifest Love. You trust in God, you trust in Jesus, you trust.
Folk, that’s all Jesus wants us to do. Love. Trust. Live.
So yes, the Ascension story is a little weird but on this day we celebrate that even though Jesus has left this earth, His work continues through every single one of us here at His Church of the Ascension. Amen.

Convicted, Indeed. May 10, 2015, Easter 6, Yr B

+I had a seminary professor who, when reading certain passages of scripture would stop us midsentence and say, “That, that right there? Those words? They convict me.”
Well there are a several phrases in today’s readings that are convicting to the church and to the world.
From Acts:
“These people have received the Holy Spirit just as we have. Surely no one can stop them from being baptized with water, can they?”
And from the Gospel of John:
“Love each other just as I have loved you.”
In Acts, Peter’s saying, “listen, even though these people, look different, talk different, are from foreign lands, they, at their core, aren’t any different from us, bring them into the fold, baptize them, call them sister and brother.”
In John Jesus says, “hey folks, do what I did, live how I lived. Love everyone.”
  Allow me to tell you the story of the baptism that wasn’t. Two men, who are married, have a son, Jack. As a family they attend the Episcopal Cathedral in Orlando Florida. They like the church and all indications suggest that they’d been welcomed by the congregation. As is the case with young families, they scheduled a baptism for their son on April 19. Folks traveled from near and far to attend the blessed day. The cake was ordered, Jack’s white suit was all set, the Godparents were praying up a storm when, 3 days before the scheduled service, the Dean called Jack’s parents to cancel the baptism because there were several parishioners who had issues with baptizing the child of gay parents.
“These people have received the Holy Spirit just as we have. Surely no one can stop them from being baptized with water, can they?”
“Love each other just as I have loved you.”
Convicted, indeed.
To make matters worse, the Bishop of Central Florida, Greg Brewer, got involved, saying’d meet with the parents to see if they were committed to raising Jack in a Christian household.
So…let me get this straight….Jack’s dads were attending the Cathedral, allegedly a Christian house of worship and they, Jack’s parents, requested their child be baptized. So, why does the Bishop need to “vet” them?
“Love each other just as I have loved you.”
Convicted, indeed.
Then, in Thursday’s Buffalo News I read a report of a “possible hate crime in Kaisertown.”
An inter-racial couple had a brick thrown through their living room window. Attached to the brick was a note full of racial epitaphs and other hateful language. Apparently, while this was the most violent of incidents, it wasn’t the first.
Now, I know that crimes need to be referred to as “alleged” until the investigation is complete, but it’s what came next in the article that made the top of my head explode.
Common Council member Richard Fontana was quoted as saying “The Kaisertown neighborhood.. has all kinds of mixed-race families, and [I’d] be very surprised if someone was harassed because of it…I do plan to talk with these people myself.”
WHAT?!
Blame the victim much, Richie? Because there are lots of interracial couples in his district, racism doesn’t exist?
Give me a break.
But wait, there’s more…
The article concluded with the following statement:
“A police official said there have been “about 10” calls for assistance at the [residence] in the past year…  most of the calls sought medical help or involved property disputes, [adding] that none involved criminal activity.”
And that’s relevant, how?
Can you imagine your house getting vandalized and then, in the news report about the attack, details of the times and reasons you’d called 911 were spelled out?
Call me paranoid. Or an alarmist, or just plain cranky, but this smacks of, at best, blaming the victim and at worst, flat out racism.

“Love each other just as I have loved you.”
Convicted, indeed.
Folks, we’ve been talking about it for a long time:
It’s not ok to hate, it’s not ok to be intolerant, it’s not ok to discriminate. We’re called, above everything else, to do one thing:
Love others as we have been loved.
The Very Rev Will Mebane, interim dean of our Cathedral, describes the demands of the love of Christ, agape love, like this:
Loving others as G_D loves us obliges us to care for our neighbors in ways that are perhaps contrary to how we live our daily lives. To love as G_D loves us demands action. It means actually doing something ! Loving our neighbors as ourselves means if our neighbor is disparaged, hurt or discriminated against we must stand up for them! And just who is our neighbor? Well, everyone. This kind of love takes some serious courage. This kind of love requires strength, fortitude and faith. This kind of love, when unleashed cannot be mistaken for anything else.
“Love each other just as I have loved you.”
Convicted, indeed.
My friends, what happened in Orlando, what happened in Thursday’s Buffalo News and what happens all over our world time and time and time again is not Love, it is fear. Fear of the other, fear of the difficult, fear of the uncomfortable, fear of the unknown.
It’s far too easy to sit back and say, “all that intolerance isn’t here.”
“I don’t have a racist bone in my body”
“ I welcome everyone to this font and to this altar, no exceptions.”
Well guess what, that’s not true.
We’re human. We fear. Sometimes we even hate.
We don’t love everyone as Christ loves us.
How do I know that?
Because this very day people are starving to death.
This very day people are dying alone.
This very day children are being denied access to an education.
This very day people are being denied basic human dignity because of the color of their skin, the people they love, the G_d they worship.
This very day people are not being loved as Jesus loves us.
So that means we have more work to do. That means we have to stretch ourselves. That means we have to risk, that means we have to give more out of our abundance , that means we have to accept and love, as we have been loved. Everyone, everywhere, no exceptions.
And it means we cannot, we will not, we must not let any discrimination, any racism, any homophobia, any sexism, any classism, any xenophobia go unchallenged. We must stand for those who can’t, we must speak for the silenced and we must confront those who bully, abuse and deny.
We must.
Because if not us, who?

Easter 5 Year B May 3, 2015 Sermon by Deacon Pete

Well, isn’t Philip surprised? As one of the first deacons, Philip expected his role to begin and end with distributing food to widows.  That was the stated need; that was what he signed up for.  He had no intention of going on the road preaching and baptizing.  As he quickly found out, that isn’t how being a deacon works, indeed that isn’t how being a Christian works!   An angel told him to  “Get up…go”.  So Philip got up and found himself on a wilderness road. He encounters an unclean, non-Jewish, African…whaaaat? And the angel said, “Go over to this chariot and join it”.  What was the angel thinking?  This is most definitely not how things are done…this is not what deacons do; this is not what Philip agreed to.
God didn’t explain any of this to Philip beforehand.  And God rarely explains things beforehand to us either.  Being a Christian isn’t about explanations, plans or schedules, it is about our willingness to say “yes”, for it is when we say ‘yes’ that the ministry and the need appear and it is when we say yes that our ability to respond will manifest as well.  (Lectionarylab.com).  Like Philip we are called to open ourselves to everyone, not just to people we like, or people we can find sympathy for, or those who are inclined to thank us -NO, we are called to minister to everyone, no exceptions.
The Book of Acts is full of stories of boundary breaking.  In Christ there are no longer Jews vs. Greeks, slaves vs. free, men vs. women, us vs. them. Our job is to cross and break down all boundaries.  When we think we’ve done enough, when we’re tired, when we’re afraid, when we’re confused, when we’ve been thoroughly stretched and hung out to dry, we still need to be open to the voice that says “Get up, Go”.
In our 1945 mile journey last week we traveled along the Thruway, past acres and acres of vineyards.  And we saw countless tangled branches staked to the wires they grow on.  There is no such thing as a single, solitary branch in a vineyard.  The branches survive and grow because they are connected to the vine and to each other.  We survive and grow because we are connected; we survive and grow when we abide in prayer, and in worship, when we cut off what is not useful or healthy. (Bruce Epperly, patheos.com, April 25, 2015).
This week we have been reminded frequently, by virtue of the events in Baltimore that our vineyard, at least in terms of racism, is a mess.  The death of Freddie Gray and the ensuing disruption of a city, the vitriol of news reporters that blame the victim and ignore the damage that systemic racism inflicts on us all point in the direction of a vineyard that needs both nourishment and pruning.  Freddie Gray’s death is only the most recent event that highlights what happens when ignorance, poverty, hopelessness, and fear infect our vineyard.
The Rev. Dr. Canon Sandye Wilson (ube.org, April 30, 2015) writes that some say riots are the language of the unheard.  “In this season of resurrection and hope we are called to prayer, commitment, engagement and discernment as we try to understand what the God of the streets, the owner of the vineyard, is calling us to be in our communities and in our relationships with our children, with each other, with the police and with our cities”.
The news is full of images of the disobedience and destruction of some protestors in Baltimore, and we all have opinions of what can and should be done in this situation.  Canon Wilson reminds that in our Baptismal covenant we promise “To seek and serve Christ in one another, loving our neighbor as we love ourselves; to respect the dignity of every human being and to try to see the face of God in each other.”  This means to see the face of God in Freddie Gray, n man not unfamiliar to police and wrongdoing, in the faces of those who picked up bricks to smash store windows and grabbed what they wanted, in the faces of the many police officers who have done no wrong and in the faces of those police officers who have harmed others with little regard for their humanity, in the face of the woman who attacked her son to prevent him from protesting and in the face of her son, in the face of shop owners who have suffered devastating losses and in the faces of politicians who have no idea of what to do next, and in the faces of wealthy residents of Baltimore who have no idea of the poverty over half of the city lives in.
Buffalo is not unlike Baltimore in many ways.  Indeed, we are more similar than it is comfortable to admit.  We have our enclaves of wealth and power.  And, just a few blocks away from us we have one of the poorest zip codes in the area.  We are separated by Main Street, we are separated by class, we are separated by race and this separation hurts us all, it weakens and sickens the vine.  We are called to strengthen the vine, to tend the branches, to bear fruit. I ask those of you who are available to join me in being a human, physical icon of God’s church in our work at School 54.  Next Friday, May 8th some of us will be meeting at the school at 9 am to sort books for the children to take home at the end of the school year.  We will be helping them on their Flag Day walk to Forest Lawn and at their next Student of the Month breakfast.  None of this costs us anything other than time and presence, but time and presence are priceless.  One appearance at a time, one helping hand at a time, one show of support for children and families at a time will help us to do our part to lessen the boundaries that separate us.  It’s not big, it’s not flashy, we won’t garner press attention or put new bottoms in our pews, but we will begin to prune away unhealthy branches, we will begin to strengthen the vine, we will bear new fruit.
“It’s complicated, these are complex times.  We pray for the lives lost, businesses destroyed and dreams deferred by boundaries and separation.”(Canon Wilson) We pray and we must act.  Our silence and our inaction will not nurture the vineyard, will not prune the unhealthy branches nor promote new growth.  We are called to bear fruit. We are called to speak and act in ways that work toward justice, integrity, mercy and respect for all. We don’t go it alone.  Baptism, grafts us onto the vine.  God in three persons, Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer, gives us the grace and strength that we will need.  And, here, at this table, we are nourished for the work we must do.
Like Philip, we will get up and Go.  Like Philip we will strengthen the vine and we will bear fruit.  AMEN.

Easter 3 Yr B April 19, 2015:An adaptation of David Sellery’s piece in “Speaking to the Soul: I Told You So”on April 14, 2015 (www.episcopalcafe)

+Jesus cracks me up. Even in his resurrection glory his humanity still emerges. Today, in utter exasperation with the dullards known as the disciples, Jesus says, in no uncertain terms: “I told you so!” I told you I’d defeat death. I told you the forces of darkness and evil wouldn’t win.

Five times, in various Gospel accounts, including last week’s story of Thomas and this week’s conclusion to the Road to Emmaus story, the risen Christ shows his friends that the prophesies concerning his Resurrection were all true. That what he had predicted had come to be:

He had been taken away from them… tortured… crucified… died and was buried. And now, risen in glory. He’s not a ghost. He’s living flesh and blood… he’s eating fish with them! Yet, all instinct, reason and experience tells the disciples: The cross had done its wicked work. What’s dead is dead… end of story. Yet here is Jesus … to see, to hear, to touch.

It doesn’t make any sense.

 Even though we have the benefit of more than a few Easters under our belts, this idea of life after death remains a profound mystery that both challenges our reason and defines our faith.

Right there this “challenging our reason and defining our faith…” is what makes Christianity so confounding and yet so glorious.

Theologians have dedicated lifetimes to studying [the historical Jesus and searching for evidence of his Resurrection]. Yet [they’ve] never established an absolute empirical basis for the Resurrection that’s unsupported by faith. And that, of course, is the whole point.

[We’re] called to believe, not to litigate the evidence. “The Gospels do not explain the Resurrection; the Resurrection explains the Gospels. Belief in the Resurrection is not an appendage to the Christian faith, it is the Christian faith.[1]” Our faith as outlined in the Gospels hinge on this fundamental truth: we are an Easter people, we are people of resurrection, we are people who believe that death is dead and life is everlasting

Before, not after, he went to the cross, Jesus said: I am the Resurrection and the life. [Those] who believes in me, though [they] may die… shall live. And whoever lives and believes in me shall never die. (John 11:25-26)

In a classic “I-told-you-so” moment from this morning’s gospel, the risen Jesus reminds his disciples: “You are witnesses of this truth---I died and rose again and from now on, you---all of you---are to spread this Good News , to live this Good News, to be this Good News to all whom you encounter.”  These are our marching orders, to wrestle less with the “how” of the resurrection, and focus more on the truth of the resurrection: that we all, each and every one of us, have our own personal Calvarys, our own despair, our own darkness, our own doubt, our own fear, our own hurt but, through our faith in Jesus Christ, through the outrageous love of our Creator God, we are never alone in our difficulties, we are never abandoned into darkness, we are lifted high above the muck and through the glory of our faith are risen anew into the light and life of resurrection…time and time again.

You see, even though the reality of Jesus’ Resurrection may be difficult to wrap our brains around, the truth of Resurrection is alive and well.

[2]In eight years of ordained ministry, and 20 years as a practicing psychotherapist before then, in scores of treatment rooms, hospital rooms, hospice rooms and living rooms  I have witnessed the glory of resurrection. Over and over, I have been privileged to see people face the reality of their lives---the good, the not so good, the glorious and the horrifying and I’ve seen them, strengthened through their faith, emboldened by the love of God as given to us through Jesus Christ, make amends and live into repentance. I’ve seen them accept the love of God which surpasses all understanding. I’ve seen them move from the cross to the empty tomb of their own lives. I’ve seen them live their own Easter story. Again and again and again.

My friends, there is a personal Calvary that awaits us all. The flesh succumbs. But as Jesus shows us today, death is highly over-rated. The body eventually fails… but the spirit? The spirit never ever ends. What Jesus tells the disciples in these Easter gospels, what our faith tells us week in and week out is that while the forces of darkness will never stop trying to trip us up, the power of the Resurrection, as expressed by us and through us will always prevail.

If you’re looking for proof of the Resurrection, look nor further than right around you. We are the Body of Christ. We are the living witnesses to Christ’s love in the world. We are the empty tomb, we are the failed cross, we are the victors over evil and despair. It’s no coincidence that Jesus came to the disciples as they gathered around the table for a meal. He was in communion with them. They came together for sustenance and strength and he was there to provide it.

And so as we come each week to this altar for sustenance and strength… he’s here to provide it. He’s in the broken bread and the cup that we share. He’s in the love that we celebrate and He’s in the good works we do outside these doors.

The truth is, regardless of our episodic doubt, regardless of those who think we’re fools, Jesus Christ IS Risen. Death IS dead, Love IS Alive and by God’s grace, when we stand before him at the heavenly banquet Jesus will enfold us in his arms and remind us, once again, “I told you so!” Amen.

---

[1] John Whale, Oxford

[2] In this paragraph I have replaced David’s first person account with my own to aid in the act of preaching of this sermon

Doubt Gives us Time to Catch Up to the Reality of our Lives Easter 2 April 12, 2015

+Thomas gets a bum rap. Not that he didn’t doubt, but his doubting wasn’t unique—the other disciples doubted too. And doubting must be an important part of our Christian story because why else would we read this story EVERY SINGLE YEAR on the Second Sunday of the Easter season? Clearly our forebears realized that doubting isn’t as much the exception as the rule. And that doubting, while normal, is something to pay attention to, something to consider.
So yeah, Thomas gets a bad rap with the whole doubting thing because, in truth, doubt isn’t a uniquely bad thing, it’s just a commonly human thing.
Doubt is a moment in time, it’s a step in a process.  It’s a time of bewilderment, a time of question---doubt comes when things aren’t clear---when all the evidence isn’t yet in or all the evidence hasn’t crystallized in our brains yet. 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 had delivered. She doubted that anything this horrible could possibly happen, but soon her brain began to assimilate it and the tragic truth became clear.
But 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 joy to fully engage; it buys us time to gird ourselves against the bad.
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.
 And, in those first few hours, those first few days following the crucifixion, the reality of the disciples’ life wasn’t pretty. The king they loved; they denied, the rulers they feared; they defied. It wasn’t a good time to be one of Jesus’ followers…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.  After all, they’d abandoned and denied Jesus. Letting him down in his greatest hour of need. And now he was alive?
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. But, no matter how hard they may have tried, this time the disciples could not run and hide. Because, even while behind lock and key, 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. This is shocking.
And this 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 really difficult to understand and  it can be difficult to accept.
Thomas, along with the other disciples, needed to see the reality of Jesus’ resurrection before they could "get it." Their doubt wasn’t a lack of faith, it wasn’t that they didn’t believe, they just didn’t comprehend.
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 gave him the time to move into a greater understanding, leading him to proclaim, “My Lord and My God.” Thomas’ doubt led his faith to a place of understanding. Thomas, given time, Got It.
Today, 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 are 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 and sometimes 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 embracing 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 children can go to school without fear.
To not rest until peace isn’t just a goal for all, 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.

Easter Vigil/Day 2015: Mary and the Summer my Dad Cried

+I can’t think of Easter without considering how Mary Magdalene must have felt as she hiked up to Jesus’ tomb. Hopeless? Exhausted? Grieved? Duped? Angry? Disappointed?
Perhaps all of the above?
After all, Mary had been with Jesus from early on. Most scholars agree that she was probably a wealthy widow from a family of silk merchants. Her wealth allowed her to fund a good portion of Jesus’ ministry, but, even with all that wealth in ancient times, a woman who struck out on her own, without the benefit of father, husband, brother or brother in law, was, at best, scoffed at, and at worst, a scandal.
In other words, Mary was just Jesus’ type!
So after spending the better part of three years with Jesus, trusting in his teachings, loving his spirit, hoping that he was indeed the promised messiah, how must she have felt after watching him arrested, beaten, killed and laid in a borrowed tomb?
She must have been struck to the very core, questioning all she had come to believe.
We’ve all been there, right? September 11th, Watergate and 1968…nothing colored my growing up like the 1960’s, especially 1968, the year my father cried.
I was 2 when JFK was killed and 7 when Martin Luther King, Jr. and Bobby Kennedy were killed. I’ll never forget that June night when Bobby was gunned down. For the first time in my life I saw my father full of utter despair as one more of his civic prophets were taken from him. It was the end of innocence and, for some, the end of hope.
...I bring this up because I want to consider----really consider----the weight on Mary’s shoulders that morning.
Remember where all the male disciples were—huddled in that upper room, behind locked doors. Mary and perhaps a few other women, were the brave ones, they were the ones determined, regardless of the risk, to give Jesus a proper burial. Maybe he wasn’t who they thought he was, maybe it was all a lie, maybe they had been fooled but still, they had loved him and he deserved a proper burial. So off Mary went, carrying the pack of spices, as well as the weight of the world, on her shoulders.
Mary risked-- she went, she believed, she didn’t give up, even when so very full of despair.
I have to say, I would have given up. I’m not proud of that, but the fact is, when faced with the “love everyone always no exception” theology of Jesus Christ,  I would have, in the shadow of his utter and complete defeat, gone back to life as usual, to life of Empire and temple authorities holding on for dear life to the status quo, to business as usual; I would have been with the rest of the disciples, hiding in that upper room—not really expecting that Jesus would re-appear, but waiting, waiting until the hub bub had died down.
But not Mary. Mary swallowed her doubt, she pushed through her fear, she set aside her despair and forged ahead. …not because she thought she’d take center stage in the most amazing story of all time, but because she wanted her Lord, her teacher, her friend to be given a respectful burial.
Of course when she arrives it appears she is too late, the body is gone, the tomb is empty.
It’s at this part of the story when Mary’s stoicism, her hope, her strength, maybe even her faith…. Is shaken.
It’s this part of the story that takes me back to my childhood, to 1968, when Bobby Kennedy was killed. On that night, my father, a staunch democrat, a party loyalist, a faithful believer that MLK and RFK, just like JFK before them would bring our country more in line with the fundamental truth upon which it was founded, the fundamental truth of the great Abrahamic religions of this world---that all people, all people, are created equal—on that night my in the early morning hours of June 6, 1968, my dad, like Mary Magdalene two thousand years before him, sat down and wept.
We’ve all been there, right?
We’ve believed so strongly in something or someone, only to be disappointed, heart broken.
Could you blame Mary and the other disciples if they had simply washed their hands of this man, of this misguided prophet who promised all sorts of crazy things only to be felled by the status quo? Would you blame them if they just returned to their lives as fishermen, silk merchants, tent makers? Would you blame them if they looked back on those three years as some type of youthful whimsy?
No, I don’t think any of us would blame them for that.
But thank God, thank God, they didn’t just “move on.”
Thank God Mary engaged those two angels in a conversation, thank God Mary wouldn’t rest until she laid eyes on her Lord’s body. Thank God, Mary didn’t dismiss “the gardener,” thank God Mary asked and listened and then in that glorious moment of recognition, saw the truth of our Easter message--no matter how dismal the circumstance, no matter how heart breaking the life, no matter how bitter the memory, our Lord, the same man who was arrested, beaten and died, will always bring us to that utterly happy morning where there are no longer tears, no longer bitterness, no longer loss, no longer anger, no longer despair, but life. Beautiful joyous, love and light filled life. The message of Easter morning isn’t that one must suffer before one can reach glory, the message is that no matter how hard the forces of darkness work, no matter how horrific their attempts to derail us are, Good Friday is always followed by Easter morn.
So join my father whose hopes and dreams were seemingly dashed by an assassin’s bullet not once, not twice, but three times in the course of five years, join Mary whose hopes and dreams were seemingly dashed by an Empire and a status quo unwilling to dream, or hope, or believe and enter into resurrection life, where we shout, Alleluia Alleluia Alleluia, the Lord, Our Lord, Is Risen Indeed. Amen.