Tuesday, April 26, 2016

"I Need You to Survive" by Joshua Butler

Scripture - 1 Thessalonians 5:11-15
Sermon given on April 20, 2016

I just wanted to give you a brief history of this text. 1 Thessalonians is the oldest book in the New Testament, written around AD 52. It was written by Paul the Apostle and intended for the people of Thessalonica. This particular passage speaks on how Christian should behave. What I like about this particular text is that your behavior shown through how you treat others. We see that we are supposed to treat people this way and that way. We are supposed to look at each other as brothers and sisters of Christ. We are supposed to do good for each other and for everyone else. Of course that’s hard to do. I’m a witness that it is hard to do. However, we should look past the wrong of others and not fight fire with fire. Instead, we should build up one another.

The question becomes how do we build up one another? We should acknowledge and encourage one another. I want to provide an illustration of what I’m talking about.

The summer after my sophomore year, I worked in an youth enrichment program and worked with a group of about 20 children. I don’t know if you know this or not, but I don’t play when it comes to children. Back then, although my policies have changed, I adopted a “one bad apple spoils the bunch” rule, meaning that one (or some) children’s bad behavior could possibly ruin a good time for everyone. One day, the group was supposed to go on a field trip to a museum at noon, but they needed to do their assignments first. At around 8am, 5 of the kids decided to act a fool, being defiant and even encouraging others to misbehave. After several warnings, I decided to call off the field trip. But then I noticed the discouragement in the faces of those who had great behavior.  I didn’t acknowledge those who did behave, those who did their work, and those who did everything right. I didn’t acknowledge how hard they have worked. I didn’t acknowledge some of the learning challenges that they have to overcome. I didn’t acknowledge the fact that there may be reasons outside of this program that explain why some of these kids are misbehaving. I acknowledged the bad without acknowledging the good and with this system in-play, I was not encouraging at all. In fact, some of them began to act worse.

We have to acknowledge things for what they are, whether it’s good or bad. To acknowledge means to accept the existence or truth of something. The scripture says that we acknowledge those who work hard and love them for their work.We can accomplish this by appreciating and utilizing the fruits of their labor. A reward, a “good job”, “I appreciate you”, and even a smile can suffice from time to time. Many times it’s hard to acknowledge the good in others because unless it’s something huge, they are doing the things that they’re supposed to do! But what happens if we don’t acknowledge the work of others? Some people may keep working and some people may stop but let’s be real, the most of us would stop working, especially if we are working with the intent of supporting and helping one another. Some acknowledgement can go a long way and I know it worked for my students! After I called off the field trip, I did some thinking and thought “I should give credit to those who did what I asked them too”. I began to acknowledge those who did their work in a decent manner and those who behaved well by complimenting on their efforts. I acknowledged those who misbehaved and asked them if anything was wrong. For a few of them, issues at home led them to be disheartened, and the smallest things could trigger their bad behavior. Once we acknowledge the good works of people, then everything is..well, good! But then we have to acknowledge some of the negative things that we experience. Without acknowledgement, things cannot be fixed. The idle will not be moved. The disruptive will not be silenced, and the disheartened will not be enlightened. Acknowledging things for what they are can be hard and uncomfortable, or perhaps humbling like my experience with my children, but acknowledgement is how things get better.

Once we acknowledge the good or the bad, that gives us an opportunity to encourage one another. To encourage means to support and uplift. Sometimes we acknowledge something for what it is but we have little reinforcement or solutions. What do we do when we acknowledge the disheartened? What do we do when we acknowledge the weak? Encouragement is the key to mitigating the issues that surrounds us. Acts of encouragement can be the same as acts of acknowledgement, such as a “good job” or a smile, but the difference is that encouragement comes with the intent of pushing people to move forward. With my children, I encouraged them to remain positive (by this point I hope you realize that we actually did go on the field trip) and for those who had not completed their work, I encouraged them to keep pressing. By this time, the nerves of everyone in the room has calmed down. After I assessed the work of every student, I decided that it was okay for the entire group to go on the field trip.

I wish my illustration could stress more the importance of acknowledgement and encouragement, although I did think you could get the point. But in all seriousness, this walk that we have called “life” is not an easy one. The tragedy last week still resides in my mind and it made me realize as human beings, we deal with a lot. A lot. In this walk, we deal with bumpy terrain, worn shoes, twisted ankles, and many other distractions. Some of us deal with things that no one else could fathom. Some of us walk as if we are invisible, as if we cannot be heard, as if we do not matter. I’m here to tell you today that you are not invisible as you are a light among the darkness. You can be heard as God did not give us a spirit of fear, but a spirit of power. And as God’s children, you always have and will always matter. As I look around and acknowledge the presence of every person in this room, I hope these words of encouragement mean something to you. I hope that you will be able to see and acknowledge the light or the sadness in others so that they can be encouraged. With acknowledgement and encouragement, you will never know the magnitude of the power that you have, all by the grace of God. As you acknowledge and encourage the people that have been placed in your path, you’re saying “I Need You To Survive”. My friends, you are more than you think. You have a capacity that exceeds your expectations. You are important to me. I Need You to Survive. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Sunday, April 17, 2016

Wisdom by Catalina Mullis

Sermon given on April 13, 2016
Scripture - James 3:13-18

When I first read this passage, the word that stuck out to me the most was disorder. Disorder. It’s probably because I have been feeling like my life has been in disorder for the past couple of weeks. I am graduating next month, so, as you can imagine, my life has been filled with thoughts about the future. In addition to thinking things like, “What will I do after Penn? What will my career be?” And “ Who will I become?,” I have been working two jobs to save up for the summer, while trying to stay on top of work for my five classes, while preparing for my dance show that is coming up for my dance troupe, African Rhythms, while fulfilling my board duties at the CA, while trying to stay on top of my friendships and familial relationships, while trying to find time to care for myself and sleep. Fewwww. Just getting all of that out was a lot. Sounds like a lot of disorder right?

And yet, at a place like Penn, what I just described is unfortunately very normal. Almost everyone here is overcommitted; you will see most of us trying to do it all and be it all and know it all because we feel like we have to; because we are told, either directly or indirectly, that doing this is what makes us valuable by our institution, by our society, and by each other; We must be the best in class, we must have the best internships and jobs, we must be involved in the most clubs and extracurriculars, and we must be the most popular; the more we have to write on our resume, the more we have done and accomplished, and the more people we know, the more likely we will be successful and the more likely an employer will choose us.

But in the process of trying to fulfill what is expected of us, we inevitably lose sight of ourselves and others; we forget to take care of ourselves; we don’t sleep, we don’t eat right and we don’t do things just because we enjoy them; we lose sight of how to pick up on how others are feeling and we stop hanging out with them and sharing quality time with them, and they with us;  we become so consumed with what we have to do that we forget about the others around us and they forget about us; we stop checking in with our friends and family, they stop checking in with us, and pretty soon, we all start feeling alone, really alone. We start leading pretty bad, disconnected lives, instead of the good lives that James talks about.

In this passage, James tells us that when we, either individually or as a whole, choose to follow these earthly ways, or what he calls the “ways of selfish ambition”, disorder, suffering, and chaos ensues. He even goes as far as to say that selfish ambition is demonic and evil mainly because of the tragic repercussions this way of life has for a lot of people: anxiety, depression (something I am all too familiar with), exhaustion and the list goes on and on. He tells us that selfish ambition makes us unstable, like “a wave of the sea, driven and tossed by the  wind.” I know that this happens to me  when I succumb to this culture. I feel disconnected from everything and I tend to get very existential. I question the meaning of life, I wonder why life has to be so hard, and I doubt God. Let me just emphasize that: I doubt God A LOT.  I start to question if life really does conquer death, if this world can be restored, and if good can actually prevail. A culture of selfish ambition really is demoralizing and alienating, and everything seems pretty dim.

But James tells us that when we, individually and especially as a society, choose to follow the ways of God, something remarkable happens. Disorder disappears and is replaced by peace, love, mercy, compassion, and righteousness. When we follow God’s ways, we are filled with His wisdom, and so we are liberated from the pressures of the world and from the belief that we have to be perfect in every academic, co-curricular, and social endeavor in order to be valuable. God’s wisdom tells us that we are valuable independent of what we do, because we are God’s children; God’s wisdom tells us that all of us matter, that all of us must be taken care of, and it propels us towards the right action, towards selfless action; it propels us to focus first on our communities, on each other, and to do whatever it takes to restore our world and to make sure that everyone feels safe, whole and loved. In God’s world, righteousness and justice reign, and doubt disappears, because we can visibly see God’s world through our actions.

So how can we follow God’s ways? Where can we find this wisdom? Well, I personally think that God’s ways and wisdom can be accessed in faith communities like the Christian Association, which are countercultural, and which exist to remind students that they are never alone and that they don’t have to pursue a life of selfish ambition to be valuable. On our own, it can sometimes be very hard to break free from the messages that surround us, but in community, we are fueled with strength and Truth, the Truth with a capital T, which rings louder because we have people that love us to keep us grounded and balanced. In my case, I found the CA because I sought it out, and I never looked back. But not everyone finds what they are looking for; and so that is why at places like the CA, we seek to live out God’s call to care for and love each other, to reach out to those in need, relying on his wisdom to guide us in that process and slowly but surely, restore the world around us.

Amen.

Monday, April 11, 2016

"Imagining Redemption" by Peter Hawisher-Faul

Sermon given on April 6, 2016
Scripture - Romans 8:22-27

            Have you ever watched a movie and wondered why the characters can’t think of a better way to act? Do you sit on the edge of your seat saying or thinking “Why would you open that door? Don’t open that door!”  or maybe “Don’t go out into the jungle! You know the clever raptors hunt in packs.” Or have you ever finished the end of a movie or tv show and looked back and thought of ten ways the characters could have had a better ending? I know I have. Maybe if the hero had been just a little more suspicious of the villain, or if a character could have just stayed home, everything would have worked out better. There is a whole youtube series called “How it Should Have Ended” that looks at movies and finds a better way to resolve the plot.
            The thing is, it’s a lot different to watch a movie than it would to be a character in a movie. Can you imagine being put in some of the intense situations that characters are put in? It’s easy to say they should have known better, but if you were placed under the same pressures you might not be able to see the best way forward. Like, when you go through a bad breakup, when you chose whose advice to take, or when you are placed under pressure of deciding your future, it’s not always clear what the best choice is.
            Our choices are limited by our imagination. When we are living the story, we can only see so far and anticipate so much. In the midst of a crisis it can be hard event o put our hopes into words. We might not be able to name what exactly is wrong, much less see how to make it right. Our imagination could even be filled with everything that could get worse, making imagining hope not only difficult, but impossible. There are so many ways that our imagination can stop us from finding what we are looking for; after all, we might not even be looking for the right thing.
            This is why Paul says that we are groaning. We experience suffering and much of the time it feels like there is no way to make it right. Whether that pain be from damaged relationships, the pressure to put on “Penn face” and be an all-star student, or from the anxiety of facing an uncertain future with poor job prospects and broken political system, whatever our personal source of pain, we are left waiting for more and hoping for change that we don’t know how to name and might not even be able to imagine.
We are not groaning and suffering alone, Paul says, but with all of creation. This in fact is the focus of the story of redemption that God is working out. It is not just humans that need to be reconciled with God, but all of creation must be reconciled with her Creator. Where we might normally think of the life of the world as a macrocosm of our lives as individuals, Paul speaks of the redemption of our bodies through adoption by God as a microcosm of the redemption of creation. Our salvation is tied to the salvation of creation because our sin has impacted all of creation. When humanity was cursed after disobeying God in the garden of Eden, the ground was cursed with us; cultivation of life on the earth becomes a difficult task because of our sin. 
While we might not experience the thorns, thistles, and toil of farming, we don’t have to look far to see how humans have hurt the world. There is an “island” of decomposing plastic bottles the size of Texas in the Pacific ocean. Pollution has yet to be kept in check by our governments and corporations. We might hope for peace, but it is all we can do to imagine a world with less violence. So many species have gone extinct in recent history that many scientists claim that humans are responsible for starting a mass-extinction. “We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now; 23 and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies.
But these groanings are labor pains, birth pangs. As characters in this story, we may not be able to imagine what the redemption of creation will look like, but God is creating new life. Jesus shared in our suffering and in the suffering of the world, living a life that is not silenced by death with love that surpasses all boundaries. Paul says that we are adopted as children of God and co-heirs of Christ and we live by the Spirit that filled Jesus in his ministry. We may not be able to imagine what redemption of all of creation will look like, but we have hope in the Spirit, who intercedes on our behalf with “sighs too deep for words.”
The Spirit is the source of our hope, not our imagination or the world we see. Paul says “Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes[p] for what is seen?” Paul looks around at his world at sees nothing worth hoping for. His hope is not in the peace and supremacy of Rome or the success of his tent-making business, which I’m guessing was not a terribly lucrative field. We look for hope in our world, but creation cannot redeem itself; it must be redeemed by the Creator. We may look for a political revolution, a career filled with meaning, a lucrative job on Wall Street, a loving family, or recognition of our personal accomplishments, but none of the things we long for will ultimately satisfy our yearning for a better world. We long for good things in the world, but we don’t need to give up on our dreams and settle for what we see in the world. We are unsatisfied for a reason, because our true hope is the new life that only God can bring, the new life that Jesus embodies and the Spirit breathes into our world to redeem all of creation.
Where we are weak and unable to bring change or even to properly imagine it, the Holy Spirit intercedes on our behalf. We long for change, but we don’t know what it would even look like. We cry out, but we cannot really grasp the cause of our suffering. We don’t know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit hears our groaning and the groaning of creation as prayer. The Spirit hears our cries, and God knows what our hearts long for, working for the good of creation in our lives beyond what we could imagine for ourselves.
When we look at the stories told by movies and tv, some of the struggles that characters face can feel meaningless because the authors of the stories are not writing just out of love for the characters. Characters may be killed off, take bad advice, or betray their own values as it suits the authors’ interests. When we look at our lives and the world and see no signs of hope, we might wonder if we can trust God’s creative work in our lives. We know that God’s love is sincere and that God’s love has the power to set the world right because of the love Jesus showed for his disciples and the world, the love that not even death or Roman power could silence. That love is our true hope.
We long for a better world, but we cannot see the way. With all of creation we groan in labor pains, and the Spirit hears our longing and intercedes for us with sighs too deep for words. We wait for the redemption of all creation, placing our hope in God’s plans, which surpass anything we could plan for ourselves.
Wendell Berry wrote a poem that I think expresses what he hears in the groaning in labor pains of all creation. Read it, and reflect on what is the new life you long to see in the world. The poem is called “Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front.”

Manifesto:
The Mad Farmer Liberation Front
by Wendell Berry
Love the quick profit, the annual raise,
vacation with pay. Want more 
of everything ready-made. Be afraid 
to know your neighbors and to die.
And you will have a window in your head. 
Not even your future will be a mystery 
any more. Your mind will be punched in a card 
and shut away in a little drawer.
When they want you to buy something 
they will call you. When they want you 
to die for profit they will let you know. 
So, friends, every day do something 
that won't compute. Love the Lord. 
Love the world. Work for nothing. 
Take all that you have and be poor. 
Love someone who does not deserve it.
Denounce the government and embrace 
the flag. Hope to live in that free 
republic for which it stands. 
Give your approval to all you cannot
understand. Praise ignorance, for what man 
has not encountered he has not destroyed.
Ask the questions that have no answers. 
Invest in the millenium. Plant sequoias. 
Say that your main crop is the forest 
that you did not plant, 
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested 
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns. 
Put your faith in the two inches of humus 
that will build under the trees 
every thousand years.
Listen to carrion -- put your ear 
close, and hear the faint chattering 
of the songs that are to come. 
Expect the end of the world. Laugh. 
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful 
though you have considered all the facts. 
So long as women do not go cheap 
for power, please women more than men.
Ask yourself: Will this satisfy 
a woman satisfied to bear a child? 
Will this disturb the sleep 
of a woman near to giving birth?
Go with your love to the fields. 
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head 
in her lap. Swear allegiance 
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos 
can predict the motions of your mind, 
lose it. Leave it as a sign 
to mark the false trail, the way 
you didn't go.
Be like the fox 
who makes more tracks than necessary, 
some in the wrong direction. 
Practice resurrection.

"Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front" from The Country of Marriage, copyright ® 1973 by Wendell Berry

Monday, April 4, 2016

"Is God Dead?" by Scott Sprunger

Sermon given on March 29, 2016
Scripture: John 20:1-18

We Christians have been taking death seriously lately. But it’s so easy to avoid the reality of death in the world. It’s easy to avoid death by turning off the television. But death is always surprising and always devastating, especially when it happens to people we love. In the Christian calendar, last week was Holy Week. But at the same time, terror attacks killed dozens in Syria and Belgium and Iraq. In the United States, people die every day from lack of access to quality health care, poverty and homelessness, and senseless police violence. But God takes death seriously too. God takes death so seriously that God took on a human body and participated in death alongside us.

But today’s story is about resurrection. Life after death. This story is not perfect. It raises more questions than it answers. And this story asks a lot of us. It asks us to believe in something we can’t see. It asks us to hope when hope seems impossible. So that is what we’re doing together tonight in this room, wrestling with hope while surrounded by hopelessness.

In the 19th century, there was a famous German philosopher named Friedrich Nietzsche. Nietzsche once boldly proclaimed, “God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us?” And we as Christians agree with Nietzsche, at least, for two days out of every year. Last friday we commemorated Good Friday, remembering Jesus’ death on the cross. Growing up, my parents took me to a Good Friday service every year. And I hated them. They were always so somber and morbid. I never left feeling good. And that’s kinda the point. Two days later we celebrated Easter, remembering Jesus coming back to life. I don’t know why but the season of lent and the celebration of Easter is always the most spiritual and reflective time for me. And even though Easter always felt like a big celebration, it seemed like there was something heavy - something transformative - about Easter, and Jesus coming back to life. That’s what I want to talk about tonight.

When I was in high school, I worked at a family-owned ice cream shop. This particular ice cream shop had a tip jar. Now while tips were by no means mandatory, they were deeply, deeply appreciated. On summer weekends, the line could stretch out the door and around the block so the tips we received made our long hours of grueling work worth the effort. On one such summer night, I remember a middle-aged couple that came into our shop. After serving them a few samples and scooping their orders, I saw them slip a ten dollar bill into the tip jar. So after they left I reached into the jar to get a better look at it. But after picking it up, I realized that it was fake. On the back were the words: “Disappointed? Some things are better than money. Like your eternal salvation that was bought and paid for by Jesus going to the cross.” Now I was a little ticked off at the time. But in fairness, these people thought they were giving me a gift much greater than money could buy, access to eternal salvation.

There is a strand of Christian faith is deeply concerned with the afterlife. You have heaven and hell. And when you die, your soul leaves its body so that God can judge it and send it to the appropriate location for the rest of eternity. This style of living one’s faith is pretty common today, you don’t have to look any further than Penn’s campus to find it. Every year the nice spring weather brings preachers to locust walk who call on us to leave behind our secular academy because it’s leading us on the road to damnation.
Also, I went to the religion section of the Penn Bookstore to see what kind of Christian books it had. Here are a few of the ones I found: Proof of Heaven, My Journey to Heaven, Flight to Heaven, Heaven is for Real (Now a Major Motion Picture), Touching Heaven, To Heaven and Back, and finally Getting to Heaven: Departing Instructions for Your Life Now.

My dad likes to call this fire-insurance Christianity because even if everything goes wrong in your life - if your metaphorical house burns down - you have the promise compensation after death. The story of fire-insurance Christianity goes like this: God created the world. Then God made humans. And after about two minutes we started sinning, and we haven’t stopped since. Sin is bad because it separates us from God so we can’t get into heaven. So God sent God’s only son to earth to receive the punishment for our sins. Now, if we accept Jesus as our Lord and Savior, our sins are forgiven and we go to heaven when we die.

You’ve probably heard that story or something like it before. The thing that I notice every time I hear it is this: there is no resurrection in it. The story wraps itself up nicely. You could tack a resurrection on at the end, but it’s more of a happy afterthought than a major turning point in the plot. My dad might call this fire insurance Christianity. Karl Marx called it the “opium of the masses.” But I prefer to call it “God is dead” theology. By “God is dead” theology, I don’t mean that God is literally dead, but that God is trapped beyond the veil of death, powerless to intervene in the affairs of this world. In “dead-God theology,” Christianity is also dead. Christianity is dead in two ways. Christianity is dead because it deals almost exclusively with things that happen after we die. But Christianity is also dead because it fails speak to the suffering and injustice of this world. And religions die when they are no longer capable of telling the truth about our lives.

This is what Harper Lee was talking about in To Kill a Mockingbird when she wrote that, “Sometimes the Bible in the hand of one man is worse than a whiskey bottle in the hands of another. There are some kind of men who’re so busy worrying about the next world they’ve never learned to live in this one.” The important thing I want to tell you tonight is that Jesus’ resurrection disrupts this narrative. Jesus’ death is not the end of the story. But Jesus’ resurrection is a new beginning. And when we embrace that new beginning, it challenges us to change not only how we think about Christianity, but how we live our lives.
So let’s go back to the original Easter morning, some two thousand years ago. The disciples are scared. They are hiding in a room in Galilee and they are scared. You see they had left behind their jobs and their families and their lives to follow this revolutionary of love, Jesus. And they’ve seen him do some pretty amazing things. And they’re just starting to think that this guy might be the real deal. He might be the Messiah. But then he gets himself killed. The political and religious leaders of the day decided that they could not abide this Jesus guy or his message of love and justice. So they torture and kill him. And the disciples are scared because just as they were beginning to hope and believe, the light of the world was snuffed out. They were scared because they were not in on the divine secret. A secret that would turn the world upside down. So on the very first Easter, under the cover of darkness, Mary Magdalene and two disciples visit the tomb where Jesus is buried. To their surprise and horror, they find the tomb open and the body missing. Who could have done this to their God?

Two of the disciples leave but Mary stays behind to mourn. And it is precisely at this moment, in the darkest hour, on the darkest day that Jesus appears. Not dead, but alive. Not a ghost but a flesh-and-blood human body. The very same human body he was born and buried with. The body that carries the wounds of crucifixion. Mary becomes the first disciple to “get it.” The world is different than she thought. Life and death are different than she thought. The Christian story itself is different than she thought. Because Jesus is back. Life has conquered death. But Jesus is not content to stay there. He tells Mary to go tell others the good news. I’m used to hearing this phrase often but it’s worth repeating over and over again: In a time when a woman’s testimony is not even admissible in the court of law, Jesus picks Mary to be the world’s first evangelist. Mary is the first Jesus-follower entrusted with the Easter-secret. And shortly after, the rest of the disciples receive the Easter-secret as well. Because the Easter secret is too good to keep to ourselves.

The Easter-secret is this: This world matters to God. You matter to God. Your body matters to God. This city matters to God. All people - from every corner of the Earth -  matter to God. Black Lives matter to God. The people of this world matter so much to God that anything that stands in the way of the full dignity of their humanity also matters to God. Therefore white-supremacy matters to God. Poverty and homelessness matter to God. Violence and war matter to God. Relationship abuse matters to God. Homophobia and transphobia matter to God. Sexism against women matters to God. Imperialism and colonialism matter to God. And the increased xenophobia and islamophobia that we’re seeing in this country, particularly from Donald Trump, also matters to God.

After Jesus did his work on the cross, he came back to this world because this world is important to God. And what is important to God should be important to us. Christianity does not end with the promise of heaven, it begins with that promise. It is not simply the promise that we will see heaven we die, but that we will see it before we die. That is “God is alive” theology. This is the Easter-secret.
When Jesus came back from the dead and revealed himself to his disciples, he was letting them in on the divine secret. And we, two thousand later, follow in the footsteps of those disciples. We are in on the secret too. In I Corinthians, Paul says that we are coworkers with God. But tonight I would prefer to call us co-conspirators with God. Something is happening in the world. It started on the cross but continues to this very moment. It began with Jesus but continues in us. We are conspiring with God to build heaven on Earth. In many ways, this puts as at odds with the pattern of this world. But we as Christians reject domination in favor of love. And we reject injustice in favor of liberation because we are called to follow the example of Christ instead of the ways of oppression. So we are conspiring with God to build a new world inside of this one. That world is the kingdom of God.

Put another way, The resurrection of Jesus is still going on. The work is started but it is not finished.
Jesus was restored to life on Easter morning but there are communities around the world and in this city waiting for restoration. What does resurrection look like for ongoing generations of families forced into poverty and homelessness? What does resurrection look like for those who have experienced abuse at the hands of the church? What does resurrection look like for Syrian refugees? What does resurrection look like for the people of color who live in constant fear of police brutality? We are agents of the resurrection. We are conspiring with God to build life where there is only death. In an empire where death and domination are the norm, we pledge our allegiance to a different world order. Because we know the Easter-secret. God is bigger than death. Death itself is dying. Christ is arisen!

One of my favorite things about Jesus’ resurrection is that it doesn’t just happen once. Jesus keeps coming back. He keeps bursting into the lives of his followers at the least expected moments. And if I may be so bold, I would say that Jesus continues to burst into the world and disrupts business as usual. That is my prayer for you tonight, that you would encounter Jesus in new places and at unexpected moments, in ways that bring love and justice and draw the world a little closer to the kingdom of God.
Amen