Sermon

Sermon
June 4, 2017; Rev. Dr. Buz Wilcoxon

Today is a great day of celebration. A birthday party for the Church. What the Fourth of July is for America, Pentecost is for the Christianity around the world and through the ages. It is the day that we remember how we got started, how we came into being. And as we remember our origin as a community we recommit ourselves, each year, each age, to continue the tradition, to translate the faith from one generation to the next. On Pentecost we remember so that we can move forward as a Spirit filled fiery family of faith.

In fact, Pentecost was already a great day of great celebration long before Christianity was on the scene. For ancient Jewish people, this day was the great summer harvest festival. 50 days after Passover—that’s where the name Pent-ecost comes from: 50 days. People travelled from far and wide, from all around the ancient world to come to Jerusalem for that day. At that point in history, as is still the case today, there were more Jews living outside of Israel than there were actually there. So for this great summer celebration, there were many pilgrims and immigrants, thousands and thousands who came to Jerusalem for the festivities…and from the start, the theme of harvest was in the air.

Up till now, there were only a very few followers of Jesus. Last week we read in the chapter before this one that there were only about 120 members of the whole Christian Church… Until it happened! Suddenly a mighty whirlwind came down from heaven itself, a divine tornado that blew with loud noise, shaking the rafters and getting everyone’s attention. Instead of rain, this storm seemed to drop drips of fire upon the community, igniting a scene that was unbelievable to behold. These few disciples were filled with the Holy Spirit and started talking. They started speaking and preaching, as the Church went public with its proclamation. In a miracle that no one could explain, those thousands and thousands of pilgrims and immigrants, who had come from all over the world, were able to hear the words of the disciples in their own native language. Today that list would sound like English and Spanish, Korean and Chinese, French and Russian, Arabic and Farsi, Cherokee and Navaho, Swahili and Afrikaans–all the languages of the world were being spoken that day. From the beginning, our Christian faith was not bound to one culture or language, but through the power of the Holy Spirit it has been a translated faith, a migrating faith, that welcomes in the uniqueness and diversity of its hearers.

This summer we will be going through the book of Genesis in our Sunday School and worship services. We with have sermons and guest speakers that will explore these pivotal and powerful stories from that first book of the Bible. Briefly, I want to point out two places where a familiarity with the book of Genesis sheds light on what is going on in this story of Pentecost. First, notice how (and who) begins all the creative activity. It is a mighty wind from heaven that rushes in over the assembled crowd. In the very first words of Genesis we hear: “In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth…a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. Then God said, ‘Let there be light’; and there was light.” The first thing to occur in all of creation is the wind from God, the Spirit of God, moving. And it is through speech that all creation comes into being. The story of Pentecost begins with the movement of this same wind from God, the Holy Spirit, and the new community is formed through the power of words and speech. This story, the Pentecost story, is told in ways that make it very clear that make these connections very clear. The birth of the Church is nothing short than a new creation coming into being, through Spirit and word, just as the first creation.

Secondly, another story that we will read this summer is the Tower of Babel. An ancient tale about a prideful people who try to build an empire of uniformity and a tower that is so tall it will reach to heaven so that they can challenge God himself. God destroys the tower and scatters their forces. One of the results is that at that point, according to the story, all of humanity began to speak different languages. They could not understand each other. What happens in Pentecost, is a divine reversal of the Tower of Babel. Through the power of the Holy Spirit the division of different languages is transcended, the rift is being mended. What was scattered abroad is now being gathered back in together. The new community of harmony, the vast harvest of the new creation in which difference and diversity is no longer a threat to unity, but a sign of God’s miraculous creative power.

In the story of Pentecost, we see, through the lens of Genesis, that from the beginning, in the beginning, our community has been more broad and wide than we in our limited human minds could ever think possible. That from the beginning, the church has always been a family of people who don’t belong together, but whom God is nonetheless bringing together through the Holy Spirit. From the beginning and throughout the ages, the church has been made up of pilgrims, immigrants, different languages, ideologies, worldviews. Different races and classes, genders, nationalities, political parties, poor and rich, slave and free, male and female, Jew and Gentile… United under Christ, our one Lord, who died for us all, and rose for us all, so that we could all be set free from our captivity to sin.

And there’s something else to notice about who we have been from the beginning. We have always been a kind of community that people don’t expect to see and don’t know how to handle. Notice, the description of what people are thinking and feeling as they observe this miracle of Pentecost. The scripture tells us that they were bewildered, amazed, astonished, perplexed. That this kind of Spirit filled family of faith could really exist is amazing and beyond belief.

And for some, it does not look like a good thing. There are those crotchety grumbling folks who just don’t get it. Heaven is literally being poured out on earth, and there are some who see it happening before their eyes and can only say, “They are filled with new wine.” “What a bunch of intoxicated fools.” There have always been some in society, in every society, who are not convinced that the kind of inclusive community that God is building is really a good thing. There are some who are scared of difference, fearful of change, and unwelcoming of the harvest of God’s new creation. They’ve always been around. Those folks who think we’re just drunk. Drunk with the wine of our age. When the church pushed for change in the era of the Civil Rights movement, there were some who thought we were just drunk with the wine of socialism or communism…labels that were far too easily cast on opponents. When the church today seeks to bridge the many division in our world there are some who are quick to label us as drunk with the spirits of pluralism, or tokenism, diversity for diversity sake. They pretend to remember the good old days (a few decades ago) and forget that there never really have been days altogether good. The church has from the beginning, been challenged and condemned by those in power who could not celebrate the new creation that God was calling into being. Fear of welcoming in those who are different has gone to the extremes of genocide or ethnic cleanings or acts of terror. Think of the Nazis or the KKK claiming to act in the name of the Christian faith, no better than radical religions terrorists today claiming to act in the name of other faiths.

As a wise preacher once said, “People fear difference, otherness, the strangeness of the stranger. But the real threat lies not in the differences that God has woven into all parts of creation, including humanity. The great danger lies in any group’s lust to power over others, its insistence that its identity alone reflects God’s nature and God’s way, its demand that the otherness of others be erased from the pages of history or from the face of the earth.” [1] We have seen that story of fear played out in the pages of history and in each news cycle today.

But instead, from the beginning, the Christian Church has been called to be a community that is not bound to fear. A family that knows no boundaries of race or language. All nations, all people are being called into the harvest of the New Creation. From our beginning, the Spirit has empowered and enabled the Church to speak and translate it faith in fresh ways for new ears to hear.

On this day of celebration, as we remember where we came from, as we retell the story of Pentecost, the birth story of the church, may we be reminded of who we are called to be today. May we be reminded that the church’s job is to welcome in all people, to proclaim the truth that we are all created in God’s image together, that we are all redeemed by Christ’s death and resurrection together, that we are all empowered by the Holy Spirit to live in communion with one another amidst all the differences that God has created.

May we remember the good news that we are a part of harvest of the New Creation being gathered in by our crucified and risen Lord, Jesus Christ, to whom be all honor and glory, now and forever.

[1] Michael Jenkins, Feasting on the Word, Year C, Volume 3, 18.

Scripture
Acts 2: 1-17, 41-42

When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. ²And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. ³Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. ⁴All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.

5            Now there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. ⁶And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. ⁷Amazed and astonished, they asked, ‘Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? ⁸And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? ⁹Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, ¹⁰Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, ¹¹Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.’ ¹²All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, ‘What does this mean?’ ¹³But others sneered and said, ‘They are filled with new wine.’

14But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them: ‘Men of Judea and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say. ¹⁵Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o’clock in the morning. ¹⁶No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel:
¹⁷            “In the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams.”

⁴¹So those who welcomed his message were baptized, and that day about three thousand persons were added. ⁴²They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.

Sermon
May 28, 2017:  Rev. Dr. Buz Wilcoxon

Today’s scripture lesson is a bridge story. The four Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John) conclude with accounts of Jesus’ resurrection. And the book of Acts then tells the story of the first few decades of the church. The Ascension–Jesus being lifted into heaven– is the bridge between the two–the bridge from Gospel to history, from Jesus to the church.

I remember when I turned 15 years old and got my learners permit, what it was like to finally get behind the wheel and control a vehicle going down the road. Do your remember that thrill and that fear? First you start out in parking lots or cul-de-sacs, then you keep it to small neighborhood streets around town. Once you’ve built up the confidence you try out the highway, and eventually the interstate.

When I had had my permit for a few weeks I was driving with my mom in the passenger seat. She was trying really hard not to give too many directions and to let me build the confidence to drive through town. I came to stop sign and I did everything right. My hands were at 10 & 2. I had my blinker on well in advance. I came to a complete stop. I looked left, right, left again. Saw plenty of space to safely make a left turn. There was just one thing wrong. That stop sign wasn’t actually a stop sign. It was a red light. That stayed red as I made a perfectly executed left turn. My mom started screaming, because she was scared. But of course, I wasn’t scared at all…I had done everything just right.

I do remember the first time that I was really scared driving. It was when I first drove across the Bayway, the interstate-10 bridge–that 7.5 mile long elevated asphalt. I’d been a passenger on the Bayway for years and always loved it. It was fascinating and fun, but when you have the responsibility of control you see things very differently. Suddenly that long bridge became a very scary place. It was like being stuck up in the air. Trapped above the water. I wanted to just stop. To freeze. But you can’t. You have to keep moving forward, not matter how anxiety producing it is.

I think there was something similar (though much more profound) going on for the disciples in this bridge story. Jesus has been training them to take over the responsibility of the church. For 40 days they have had their learners permits, with him there to guide them, but now it’s time for him to leave and for them to steer the ship of the church without him.

Before he goes he gives them final instructions about where to go. He says, “you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” There is an expanding geographic nature to this command about witnessing. It would be like telling us to shared Jesus’ love in Mobile, then in Alabama and Mississippi, and then all around the planet. When this story occurs they are already in the city of Jerusalem, the most important metropolis for the Jewish faith. Jesus tells them that their journey of witnessing starts here. It begins in the city, in the place where the powerful and the powerless, the rich and the homeless, those getting fat off the system and those starving to death in scarcity are all crammed together. Jesus calls the church—from the beginning—to bridge these gaps in our cities, in our society, to cross over the boundaries that divide people there.

But then he tells them to expand their witnessing to the whole region (Judea) and the neighboring region (Samaria). It’s important to rember that people in these two areas hated each other. Jew’s looked down on Samaritans as heretics and half-breeds, and Samaritans were just as antagonistic against Judean.   But Jesus sends his followers to bridge the animosity between these two rival territories.

Then after crossing that boundary, they are told to take the Christian witness, the good news of God’s love, the mystery of Christ’s resurrection, to take that story and share it with the ends of the earth. To travel and sojourn. TO cross over seas and deserts, through dangerous journeys risking life and limb. Building bridges across entire oceans, connecting continents and binding together nations and people that are so different from one another that the world would say they have no business being unified.

There is an intentional order to these instructions, that has everything to do with growing in authenticity. Before you can authentically go out to “change the world” you have to be intentional about making real tangible change in your own city, you own home, your own family, your own work place, your own local community. You can’t go to the ends of the earth if you don’t start in your own Jerusalem first. Likewise, before you can attempt to reach out to all people around the globe, you first have to be reconciled to those prickly people nearby who you would much rather just ignore and stereotype. You can’t go to the ends of the earth if you don’t go through Samaria first, and learn to love the Samaritans of our own culture today. That’s quite a task!

This charge and pattern given to the disciples continues to be foundational to kind of community we are called to be as Christians: to start local, to start in our city—bridging the divides here. Then expand regionally—bringing together different and diverse people that cannot stand one another. Then to connect around the globe.

When Jesus finishes these final orders to his followers he is lifted up into heaven. He ascends up in a cloud. Last month one of our members, Charlie Rice, was in a school drama presentation of the Wizard of Oz. On some of the nights he stole the show playing the role of the cowardly lion, but on others nights he was working behind stage with the ropes and harnesses that allowed the other actors to fly around in the air above the stage. I had half a mind to get Charlie to rig something up here this Sunday so we could reenact Jesus’ ascension. But thankfully we didn’t try to pull that off.

Jesus leaves them. As he float away his disciples just stand there staring as his cloud disappears from their sight. They are awestruck in wonderment, fear, and uncertainty. Wide-eyed gaping mouths unable to believe what they see happening before their very eyes. Like a 15-year old driver in shocked at the vast expanse of the wide open vista of the water around them, the disciples realize that on this bridge, they are feeling a different kind of fear and excitement than they have ever felt before, and they want to just stop. To stand still and stay on solid ground.

But then these two mysterious guys in white robes appear out of nowhere and get their attention. These fellows seem to the same two messengers that were at the empty tomb on Easter 40 days ago, who asked the women, “Why do you look for Jesus among the dead?” Now they ask the men on the mountainside, “Why do you stand looking up towards heaven?” That’s their polite and prodding way of tell the petrified disciples, “Don’t just stand there like a bunch of idiots! Do something! Get moving. Jesus just told you to go out, to expand the faith near and far. He didn’t tell you to stand here staring into heaven.” They are saying, “Wake up…and get to work.”

So often we can be tempted by the emotional experience of fear to stand still in our faith. To fixate on other-worldly spirituality, staring off into heaven looking for something that we can quite make out. This kind of spirituality is far removed from the missional witnessing charge that Jesus gives to the community of faith. And sometimes we need others to remind us of our true mission. To shake us up and wake us up from our dreams. To jolt us and remind us of the truth that we need to keep moving, to cross those bridges that we are afraid to cross.

And so, waken back up to reality, the disciples head back down the mountainside and gather together with the other followers of Jesus: men and women, some fishermen from Galilee, some tax collectors, some prostitutes, some that the rest of the society cast aside as good-for-nothing sinners, and some of Jesus’ own immediate family. All told there were about 120 of them. Think about that. Right now, in this sanctuary there are more people here today to worship than there were in the entire Christian Church when it was first getting started.

The disciples know what Jesus has called them to do. They know that this little community is about to face difficulties in the days ahead. They knew that their expanding, witnessing, bridge crossing, globe trotting mission would not be easy and would call forth all of who they were as individuals and as a community. And so, before they set out on their journey, they take a moment to pray together.

Karl Barth, one of the greatest theologians of the Christian faith, once said that, “To clasp the hands in prayer is the beginning of an uprising against the disorder of the world.”

That certainly was true for those first disciples. And may it be true for us as well. May our community follow in the footsteps of our ancestors in the faith. May we, like them, expand from our prayer and worship, moving out together into the world to witness, to share, to model the revolutionary good news of Jesus Christ, whose love bridges every boundary!

To God alone be the glory.

Scripture
Acts 1:6-14

So when they had come together, they asked him, ‘Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?’ ⁷He replied, ‘It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. ⁸But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.’ ⁹When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight. ¹⁰While he was going and they were gazing up towards heaven, suddenly two men in white robes stood by them. ¹¹They said, ‘Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up towards heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.’

12Then they returned to Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet, which is near Jerusalem, a sabbath day’s journey away. ¹³When they had entered the city, they went to the room upstairs where they were staying, Peter, and John, and James, and Andrew, Philip and Thomas, Bartholomew and Matthew, James son of Alphaeus, and Simon the Zealot, and Judas son of^* James. ¹⁴All these were constantly devoting themselves to prayer, together with certain women, including Mary the mother of Jesus, as well as his brothers.

Sermon
May 21, 2017; Rev, Dr. Buz Wilcoxon

Two stories, which in this gospel are placed back to back. Two stories that intersect as they show us who Jesus is and who we are called to be as his followers.

The first story begins with Jesus saying, “Come on guys it’s time to leave town—time to set sail across the sea of Galilee.” But before he can leave, Jesus is approached by two individuals who each talk to him about following him. The first fellow is an intellectual type, a scribe. In todays world he would be like a bureaucrat or a lobbyist. An expert in the system of ancient Jewish religious law, and someone who made a lot of money by using their expertise to serve the needs of the rich and powerful at the expense of the common people. The scribes have a very strongly vested interest in the status quo, and so it’s no surprise that whenever they appear in the gospel stories it is always as opponents of Jesus. That’s important to remember here, who this scribe is, one of Jesus’ opponents. Because at first glance he seems like a genuine seeker, an inquisitive person who just wants to follow Jesus, but his question reveals his true intentions. Jesus sees right through him. Notice that this time Jesus doesn’t call him to follow, no the scribe is the one who initiates the request, looking to see if this teacher is for hire. The scribe is only trying to use Jesus to serve his own selfish ends. (That trick never gets old does it? People today still seem to follow this tactic, using Jesus as a tool for their own selfish attempts to grasp at power.)

But Jesus knows the truth, he knows that this man has no real interest in being a part of the counter-cultural community of faith that he is gathering around himself. Jesus knows the truth, and Jesus speaks the truth. He says, look buddy, if you want to follow me, to really follow me, then you must walk away from it all and turn your back on all that power and prestige that you hold so dear. The life of a Jesus-follower is without comfort or security. Think of the wild and wandering foxes that roam through the woods or the birds that flitter and fly through the air. Both of them are always on the move, constantly in motion, just like Jesus’ community. And yet, when these animals grow weary at least they have a hole or a nest, a home in which to lay their head. But Jesus says, my followers won’t even have that. Not even a home. If you really want to follow me, you must abandon all the comfort and certainly, all the power and security that you have built up for yourself. Are you really willing and ready to walk away from all that, for me? The scribe doesn’t even dare to answer Jesus’ question. He is mute and the story just moves on. His silence speaks volumes!

The truth is, of course, that many of us are like that scribe. We enjoy the good gifts of life and home, we want respect among our peers and the status that comes with it. We want the security of having a place in the system, and while we like to speak as if we are open to following Jesus wherever he may call us, interestingly enough, it never seems to be too risky or precarious. We are comfortable in the kiddy pool and so we ignore the scary and risky deep end of following Jesus with our whole life.

It reminds me of the beginning of one of my favorite stories. The British author J.R.R. Tolkien wrote works of fantasy and fiction that are beloved around the world and have been made into blockbuster movies like the Lord of the Rings. In his first story, The Hobbit, Tolkien tells about a little fellow by the name of Bilbo Baggins. Bilbo lives a peaceful quiet lifestyle, quite comfortable in his home. He has earned the respect of his neighbors because he never does anything unexpected or out of the ordinary. His days are beautifully simple and predictable, which is all he ever wants out of life.

But one day, quite unexpectedly, a wild and wandering wizard by the name of Gandalf walks by Bilbo’s home and finds him outside his enjoying the fresh air in his garden. Gandalf interrupts Bilbo’s peaceful morning and announces, “I’m looking for some to share in an adventure…!” Bilbo replies, “[I] have not use for adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner! I can’t think what anybody sees in them.”[i] The beauty and joy of the story comes in the ways that Bilbo is cast into this adventure, even against his own best intentions, and the ways that the wide world change him into a braver person than he ever knew he could be.

In the silence of the scribe, I can imagine him saying, “I have no use for adventures. If that’s what it means to follow Jesus, then never mind!”

The second person to approach Jesus is one of his own disciples who says that before can follow him he must attend to some family business. His father has died and he has to bury him. Jesus says, “No, I’m sorry. This discipleship train is leaving now and if you’re not on it, you’re going to miss something incredible that God has in store.” When Jesus says, “Let the dead bury the dead” that seems awfully harsh. Some scholars have suggested that maybe this was a colloquial way of referring to professionals who took care of dead bodies. Maybe Jesus is saying, “Let the gravediggers bury the dead.” But I’m not sure that I buy that. Any attempt to soften the directness of Jesus’ words seems to be missing the point, because what he says is harsh, it is hard, it pulls us into a crisis of considering our deepest held priorities. Just like his words to the scribe about abandoning the certainty and security of home, here Jesus is saying that to fully follow him, you must also lay aside the ultimate claim of family and kinship. Family values, as good as they may be in theory, can quite easily turn into the adoration and worship of family. Parents and children, family obligations can, if we let them, define our identity and control our priorities. Now, as a son and husband and a father, I have to say, I have a hard time hearing these words from Jesus. But just because it’s hard doesn’t mean I’m given permission to toss them aside or ignore them. In fact, quite the opposite.

Jesus is ready to leave on the adventure of his ministry, and both of these characters—the responsible scribe who loves home and the disciple distracted by family obligations—both of them serve as models for our own well-intentioned but half-hearted and shallow discipleship. We too would rather stay on the shoreline than set out into the seas, following, trusting, into the unknown.

When you are safe on the shore, the tempting tug of the good life sings a siren song that seeks to keep us comfortably in the places and worldviews that we have always known.

But Jesus says, it’s time to go. It’s time to leave the shore and get into the boat of discipleship. It’s time set out into the deep chaotic waters of real life. The deep waters of terror and surprise, of suffering and joy, the deep waters of lonesomeness and hope, of brokenness and beauty. It’s time to face head-on the powers and forces of our day that seek to sink us. It’s time to set out on a grand adventure of trust to be a part of what the sovereign, creator God is actually doing in the real world.

And like a real adventure, what can go wrong does go wrong…quickly.

In our second story, no sooner have they set sail into the sea than a serious storm comes along and threatens to sink them. The disciples are afraid for their life. Now, remember, this isn’t just some squeamish group of seasick rookies. Most of these guys were professional fishermen before they started following Jesus. So if they are this scared, it must have been a serious storm.[ii] It’s like when someone from Minnesota says that it’s cold…you know it must be serious. Or when someone from Mobile complains, “Boy it’s really humid outside,” you know it’s a big deal. The disciples are fearful and desperate but Jesus, is just sleeping. Come on, that feels a little like showing off, don’t you think? Then is an show of divine power, Jesus calms the storm and the disciples are left in utter awe and wonder at this one whom they are following. This one who appear to have the very power of God. The good news of this second story is that Jesus calms the storm.

But let’s remember that this was a real storm. With the potential to destroy the disciples. It was as real of a storm as the ones that we face in our lives today. The real life storms of brokenness and sin. The real life storms of betrayal and fractured relationships. The storms of sickness, disease, death and grief. The storms of mental illness and addictions, dementia and depression. Storms of insecurity and scarcity, of losing a job and fear of the future. Real life storms of poverty and homelessness, of hunger and oppression. Real life storms of politics and warfare, of fear mongering and hate. Storms of failure and inadequacy. Storms of broken dreams and shattered hopes. Real life storms that rage all around us and times even rage within us. The good news of the gospel is that the Lord who calms the storms, the one who wondrously commands the winds and the sea, can speak his peace-giving, storm-calming words into the whirlwinds and tumults, into the chaotic waters of our lives as well.

In these two stories, woven together, what Jesus offers to the disciple and to us is not an easy way out of life’s struggle and trials. It is not some simple, cheap form of discipleship. That’s what the folks back on the shore were hoping for. No, Jesus doesn’t keep us nice and cozy in our man-made fortresses of faith. He doesn’t call us to some shallow, isolationist, protective, security blanket of religion. No, he calls us into the very heart of the storm. He calls us through the deep waters to follow him into the tempest.

This morning we sang about this truth in our opening hymn, “How Firm a Foundation.”

When through the deep waters I call thee to go, the rivers of sorrow shall not overflow,
for I will be near thee, thy trouble to bless, and sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.

Blessing our troubles, sanctifying our distress, calling us into the storm, changing us through the deep and dangerous adventure of trusting him, that’s where Jesus calls us!

Because the truth is the ones on the shoreline, who are surrounded by the familiar comforts of life, who cannot risk stepping out into the unknown, they are the ones who completely miss what God is really doing in the real world through Jesus Christ.[iii] Instead, it is the disciples on the boat, the ones who think they are about to sink, who are in the end able to see Jesus most clearly only once they have gone the shadow of death. Friends, as Easter people, may we seek to be disciples who are willing and ready to follow our Risen Lord into the storm! May we share in the adventure!

To God alone be the glory.

[i] J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit, page 13.

[ii] David Bartlett, Feasting on the Gospels, Matthew, Volume 1, page 207.

[iii] Stanley P. Saunders, Preaching the Gospel of Matthew, page 71.

Scripture
Matthew 8: 18-27

¹⁸ Now when Jesus saw great crowds around him, he gave orders to go over to the other side. ¹⁹A scribe then approached and said, ‘Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go.’ ²⁰And Jesus said to him, ‘Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.’ ²¹Another of his disciples said to him, ‘Lord, first let me go and bury my father.’ ²²But Jesus said to him, ‘Follow me, and let the dead bury their own dead.’

²³ And when he got into the boat, his disciples followed him. ²⁴A gale arose on the lake, so great that the boat was being swamped by the waves; but he was asleep. ²⁵And they went and woke him up, saying, ‘Lord, save us! We are perishing!’ ²⁶And he said to them, ‘Why are you afraid, you of little faith?’ Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the sea; and there was a dead calm. ²⁷They were amazed, saying, ‘What sort of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him?’

Sermon
May 7, 2017:  Rev. Dr. Buz Wilcoxon

It’s fitting that we read this scripture lesson today, on the day that we honor and send out our seniors who are graduating. This is a major time of transition in their lives, and in the lives of their families, in the life of this church family. As they move on to what is next and we feel their absence. So too, the passage from the very end of Matthew’s gospel is a story that is all about transition.

You see, Jesus is leaving his disciples, preparing to ascend into heaven. It is time for him to depart so that they can grow and mature as a community, following their calling to be the church throughout the world. But before he leaves, he gives them this is the charge, the Great Commission that echoes throughout throughout the centuries.

Before we focus on Jesus’ words, let’s notice a few things about the group he is speaking to. Who are they? They are his students, his followers, his closest friends. But here they are referred to as “the eleven disciples.” The eleven—there had been twelve at first, but in the events that have taken place with Jesus’ betrayal and crucifixion, one of their number, Judas Iscariot, was no longer with them. They are “the eleven,” not “the twelve”—name them this way is a reminder of brokenness and betrayal. They are an incomplete, imperfect community

And notice what these disciples do when they get to this mountainside meeting. The scripture says “When they saw him, they worshipped him, but some doubted.” They all worship him, and some of them doubt. I am fascinated by the honesty of all that is held together here. Rather than ignoring or denying their doubts, on the one hand or being overcome and petrified by those doubts on the other hand, the disciples are honest about their doubts, and yet they still worship the risen Lord, the living Christ. They worship with their doubts and their faith. Their worship is real, it is authentic.

So this is the context for Jesus’ final goodbye in Matthew’s gospel. This broken and battered community, this incomplete and imperfect ensemble of faithful doubters has come back to Galilee to see Jesus one last time and to hear his final charge to them. What Jesus tells them will echo through the generations, down to our very lives today.

His words begin and end with talking about himself. He says that “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to him.” In him, in this one, heaven and earth are united. The one who rules the angels and archangels also now rules our live and our world as well.

And then he ends his message with the promise that he will be with us always, even to the end of the age. He will be “with us.” With us. Remember, at the very beginning of the story, at Jesus’ birth he was proclaimed to be God-with-us, Emmanuel. And now, at the end, Jesus promises to always be with us. Those two words, “with us” are the most significant words in the gospel of Matthew, and perhaps some of the most important in our lives of faith today. In Christ, God is with us always!

So, Jesus begins and ends his final message by talking about himself, but in the middle of this Jesus sandwich is his charge and commission to the church through the ages. He says, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you.”

Of particular importance here are the verbs that Jesus uses: Go. Make-disciples, baptize, teach, obey, and remember.

“Go,” he says. It reminds me of when I was standing in the same places as our seniors today. About to finish high school an my home church had a graduate Sunday when they honored us as we headed off to college. They gave us all a book, a book that many of you may have. It’s gotten to be a pretty cliché graduation gift. Oh, the Places You’ll Go! by Dr. Seuss. It tells the story of a young man setting out on life’s journey and all the wonderful and amazing places that he (that is you) will end up. At first I thought this was a cute little gift. Here we were, 18 years old—old enough to vote, old enough to register for the draft—getting a children’s book. But through the years as I’ve travelled down my own path and read this book (and read it to my children) I’ve grown to appreciate part of the wisdom that is in it, because it doesn’t just praise you for the successes you will achieve—the fun and exciting places to go—it also gets real and honest about the places we don’t want to go.

“Whether you like it or not Alone is something you’ll be quite a lot. And when you’re alone there’s a very good a chance you’ll meet things that scare you right out of your pants. There are some, down the road between hither and yon, that can scare you so much you won’t want to go on. But on you will go though the weather be foul. On you will go though your enemies prowl. On you will go though the Hakken-Kracks howl. Onward up many a frightening creek, though your arms may get sore and your sneakers may leak…You’ll get mixed up, of course, as you already know. You’ll get mixed up with many strange birds as you go. So be sure when you step. Step with care and great tact and remember that Life’s a Great Balancing Act. (Sounds pretty Presbyterian.) Just never forget to be dexterous and deft. And never mix up your right foot with your left.”

Oh the places you’ll go. Oh, the places that Jesus sent them. Those eleven disciples. He didn’t send them out to be successes. He didn’t send them out to fun and exciting locals. He sent them to teach his message. He sent them to places that they didn’t want to go. To places of failure and hardship. He sent them to places where they would be persecuted and put to death for the faith that they taught. He sent them to serve…and they followed.

To our seniors, to our children, to our retirees…Jesus says, “Go.” To our young married couples just setting said, and to those navigated the rough waters of divorce…Jesus says, “Go.” To those just starting out and those who feel stalled out, to you and to me and to the whole Christian community…Jesus says, “Go.” Go—not to the safe places, not retreat into the familiar to hide behind what we know, not to succumb to the temptation of the sentimental. No, Jesus says, Go!

And what does he want us to do when we go? Quite simply, to be the church. Make disciples, teach and baptize. He says, Go as servants (not as those in power, not with force or violence. For we today are still that broken and battered incomplete group of eleven nobodies. And the deep irony is that Jesus sends us, as he did them, into all the world—not as conquerors or colonizers, but as servants and teachers.

And finally, he says, “Remember.” Remember all the ways that God is with us. Remember this story of Christ’s life, death, and resurrection for us. Remember what God has done for us that we could never do for our selves. Remember. “Remember I am with you always.” That’s precisely what this table is all about. The good news of this meal is that the Risen Christ continues to be with us on the journey. He continues to meet us and welcomes us with all our brokenness and imperfections, all our faith and our doubt. The good news of this meal is that as we go throughout all the transitions of life…as we welcome in and send out, as we celebrate achievements and fall flat on our faces in failure, when we feel lost and lonely, and when we feel found, when we say goodbye to those we love the most, and when we face our own final transition beyond the grave…the good news of the gospel, the good news of this feast table is that the one who rules heaven and earth, the one who died and rose again for us promises to be with us to the end of our journey.

To God alone be the glory!

Scripture
Matthew 28: 16-20

¹⁶ Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. ¹⁷When they saw him, they worshipped him; but some doubted. ¹⁸And Jesus came and said to them, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. ¹⁹Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, ²⁰and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.’

Sermon
April 30, 2014:  Rev. Anna Fulmer

Today’s Scripture begins in darkness. Peter, probably sick of waiting, of being holed up, announces to two other disciples he is going fishing. Fishing was Peter’s original job–before Jesus called him to be a fisher of people. And so the other disciples decide they are going too. They go to fish, but that whole night, they don’t catch a thing. I kind of wonder, why in the world would they go fishing at night? But according to my fishing experts, sometimes night is the best time for fishing. Yet they don’t catch a thing. On that water, it was dark for miles and miles. This story begins in the dark, with a sorry night of fishing. But it doesn’t end that way. So let’s read our Scripture from John 21:

Just after daybreak, Jesus stood out on the beach; but the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to them, “Children, you have no fish have you?” They answered him, “No.” He said to them, “Cast the net to the right side of the boat, and you will find some.” So they cast it, and now they were not able to haul it in because there were so many fish. That disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, “It is the Lord!” When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on some clothes, for he was naked, and jumped into the sea. But the other disciples came in the boat, dragging the net full of fish, for they were not far from the land, only about 100 yards off.

When they had gone ashore, they saw a charcoal fire there, with fish on it, and bread. Jesus said to them, “Bring some of the fish that you have just caught.” So Simon Peter went aboard and hauled the net ashore, full of large fish, 153 of them; and though there were so many, the net was not torn. Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.” Now none of the disciples dared to ask him, “Who are you? Because they knew it was the Lord. Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and did the same to the fish. This was now the third time that Jesus appeared to the disciples after he was raised from the dead.

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these? He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.” A second time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Tend my sheep.” He said to him the third time, “Simon, son of John do you love me? Peter felt hurt because he had said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” And he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep. Very truly I tell you when you were younger, you used to fasten your own belt and to go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go. (He said this to indicate the kind of death by which he would glorify God). After this he said to him, “Follow me.”

This is the Word of the Lord. Thanks be to God.

Everything that I have learned about fishing, I have learned from our youth group. You see, I didn’t grow-up fishing. I have played more rounds of the card game, “Go Fish” than actually gone fishing. And so my first year here, I made a critical error–I thought you couldn’t fish at Montreat. When our youth arrived to Montreat, and discovered that I was wrong and you could–I was in deep water. So last year, our second year of Montreat, a few of our guys brought fishing poles. With any free time, I knew where the guys of our group would be: fishing. At first, I worried about their obsession. Why in the world would they want to go fish at Montreat, when the fishing is certainly better in Mobile than Montreat? There were only two fishing poles and six guys. And honestly, was this a good use of their time–to sit and fish? Only two could actually be fishing at a time.

But I watched. And what amazed me was how fishing connected these group of guys together. Even the ones who had never fished before sat and waited for a fish to tug. Yet, I kept wondering–what’s the point? Even when they caught a fish, most of the time, they threw it back. But soon, I realized fishing isn’t just about catching and keeping a fish. They explained to me that they fish for excitement and peace. It’s really about anticipation–the hope of what might come. But there’s also a bunch of waiting, and in waiting peace and patience.

No wonder Jesus called a bunch of fishermen. No wonder Peter goes back to fishing. He probably needed some time to think–after denying his friend three times and watching him suffer and die. He probably needed an easy catch–something to lift his spirits after such loss and darkness. And he probably wanted to remember his friend. He and Jesus had spent some time on a boat–after Jesus fed 5000 people with bread and fish, the disciples get on a boat where during a storm they see Jesus walking on water.

In this season after Easter, I am sure we have also gone back to business as usual. We are back to work, back to school, back on our usual exercise routine, back making lunches, wiping noses, back to yard-work and bills. We have gone back to fishing–the things we are used to, the routines we know best. And sometimes these tasks seem endless, fruitless. We fish all night without catching a single thing. And yet, even in those routines, even in the dark, even when we come up empty after hours of endless work, Christ comes. Christ comes at daybreak, with the light peeking in and changes everything.

Christ doesn’t appear in the boat. He yells from shore some advice–”try the right side.” At first, the disciples don’t realize it’s him. After hours of fruitless labor, I would be prone to say (especially to a stranger), “We have already tried. If you think you know so well, they come over here and prove it.” I am just prideful enough to think if I can’t do it, then no one can, and what the use of trying one more time. But the disciples don’t. Maybe they’ve learned to listen–even to a stranger. They’ve learned other voices can be wise; it might even be God’s voice. They are open. They are willing. So they listen. They cast their net in, on the right side and they find an abundance.

So maybe this text is saying to us this day: get out. Go fishing. But be open. Listen to other voices–even when you are tired, even when you think you have done everything you can. Because Christ meets us where we are, even in the dark, out on a boat. But there’s more.

As soon as they pull up the nets, the beloved disciple tells Peter, “It is the Lord!”–sometimes it takes another person to help us recognize Christ in our midst. And Peter, he puts on his clothes and jumps into the sea. This probably seems strange to think about–a little counterintuitive. But let’s compare Peter with other people who were concerned about nakedness in the Bible, Adam and Eve. After eating the forbidden fruit, Adam and Eve are ashamed of their nakedness and probably, ashamed of their sin–doing something they weren’t supposed to, so they hide from God. And eventually God lovingly sews them clothes to wear. Peter, is also ashamed of his sin, of denying Jesus. And so symbolically and physically, Peter puts on his clothes–he’s aware of what he has done. He has fallen short. But instead of hiding from Jesus, he jumps right into the sea and swims on over. Peter’s shame and sin does not prevent him from going to Jesus–he is eager to see his friend, to be reunited. Peter shows his love by taking the plunge.

I think Peter too, like our youth, went fishing to find some peace and have a little joy and excitement. He goes hoping to have a little joy instead of grief. And he gets that–and more. They go fishing and get the catch of their lives–an overabundance, 153 fish. But even, better they catch a glimpse of Christ. When they arrive on the shore, Jesus has a fire with fish and bread waiting on them. Jesus feeds them, and his words remind them and us of the feeding of the 5000 and the last supper–both stories of abundance. After breakfast, Jesus asks Peter, three questions. “Simon, do you love me?” Peter says, Yes, Lord, you know that I love you! Three times Jesus asks. And each time, Jesus commands Peter, “Tend my sheep.” “Feed my sheep.” By the third time, Peter is hurt. He wonders, why Jesus doesn’t believe him. But his answer I think becomes more vulnerable and true–it’s a confession–”Lord, you know everything. You know that I love you.”

I wonder if Jesus keeps grilling Peter because he doesn’t want Peter just to say that he loves Jesus. He wants Peter to actually do something. Peter has said words before, and then not followed through. We know Peter had said, “I would never deny you!” and then gone on and denied. For Jesus, I don’t think love is just about saying, “I love you.” He wants Peter to show his love, to start tending and feeding Christ’s flock. He wants Peter to leave his boat and follow him.

What I find amazing though is that before Christ commands Peter to feed and tend, Christ feeds and cares for Peter. Christ doesn’t call him to do something that Jesus does not do himself. Today, there is so much good news in one passage: first, go fish: we know that Jesus meets us where we are; second, our Messiah, our Lord is one of abundance—Christ can fill our empty nest until they are bursting with hope, third—Christ doesn’t just fill us with abundance, Christ wants to be with us, share in meal with us. Yet Christ also challenges us here at this table too. Do we love Christ? If our answer is yes, then that means it cannot be by word alone. Christ asks us to “Feed his sheep and tend his lambs.” It is because we are filled and cared for here at this table, that we are called to do this same. So I today Christ asks you and me, each one of us: “Do you love me?” Yes? Then “Follow me.” Amen.

Scripture
 John 21

Just after daybreak, Jesus stood out on the beach; but the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to them, “Children, you have no fish have you?” They answered him, “No.” He said to them, “Cast the net to the right side of the boat, and you will find some.” So they cast it, and now they were not able to haul it in because there were so many fish. That disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, “It is the Lord!” When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on some clothes, for he was naked, and jumped into the sea. But the other disciples came in the boat, dragging the net full of fish, for they were not far from the land, only about 100 yards off.

When they had gone ashore, they saw a charcoal fire there, with fish on it, and bread. Jesus said to them, “Bring some of the fish that you have just caught.” So Simon Peter went aboard and hauled the net ashore, full of large fish, 153 of them; and though there were so many, the net was not torn. Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.” Now none of the disciples dared to ask him, “Who are you? Because they knew it was the Lord. Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and did the same to the fish. This was now the third time that Jesus appeared to the disciples after he was raised from the dead.

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these? He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.” A second time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Tend my sheep.” He said to him the third time, “Simon, son of John do you love me? Peter felt hurt because he had said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” And he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep. Very truly I tell you when you were younger, you used to fasten your own belt and to go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go. (He said this to indicate the kind of death by which he would glorify God). After this he said to him, “Follow me.”

Sermon
April 23, 2017:  Rev. Dr. Buz Wilcoxon

Names are a funning thing. Many of us have nicknames, some that come from our own name or what someone called us. Other nicknames, though, are ones that you earn. In college, I had a roommate who for years went by the name “Dirty Dylan” because he was a pretty unclean fellow. He didn’t have a reputation for taking many showers.

Today’s story includes a fellow who has been stuck with a nickname for centuries. “Doubting Thomas.” Now, in truth, Thomas’s story is much more complex. He isn’t some extreme sceptic who refuses to believe anything or anyone until it is completely proven to him. No, in fact he is one of Jesus’ most zealous followers. He repeated claims that he would follow Jesus anywhere, even if it leads to his own death. Thomas is devoted to Jesus wholehearted, and so, when Jesus is put to death, Thomas’s heart is wholly broken. After the crucifixion, all the disciples are confused and scared, but Jesus’ death seems to have hit Thomas harder than the others. So, when our story begins, Thomas is in a dark place, a place of defeat overshadowed by death. His master, teacher, mentor and friend has been executed and now nothing makes sense any more. In grief he has isolated himself so that he isn’t with the other disciples that night.

So, this story isn’t about Jesus coming to prove himself to some radical skeptic but rather. No, it is a story of Jesus gathering in the brokenhearted, the one who needs to experience healing and have his hope and trust rekindled with an experience everyone else has had but which he has been left out of. Notice what Thomas asks to see, Jesus’ hands and side, the marks of his death and suffering. I the paragraph before, we are told that Jesus shows his hand and his side to the other disciples. So Thomas, the heartbroken devoted follower is only asking to have the same experience that they have had. He is asking to be included. He is asking to encounter Jesus himself. He is seeking a real, authentic, genuine faith—not to just go through the motions because everyone else says something is true. This isn’t some silly, stubborn, antagonism against other people who’s faith is different than his own. This is faith seeking understanding.

Thomas is much more than a doubter, but the ways that we talk about him and his doubt also reveal something about the depth and maturity of our own faith.

This mixture of real faith and real doubt is deep and real. And it reminds me of one of my favorite episodes of the Andy Griffith show. The young boy, Opie tells his father Andy and his friend Barney about someone that he met in the woods that day named Mr. McBeavy. Opie says that Mr. McBeavy walks around the tree tops, wears a big shiny silver hat, has twelve extra hands, can make smoke come out of his ears, and jingles when he walks as if he had “rings on his fingers and bells on his toes.” Now, his father Andy is convinced that Opie has imagined this Mr. McBeavy fellow. As the show continues, Andy becomes worried that Opie isn’t just imagining things, but that he is “stretching the truth all out of shape” by lying to his father and blaming things on this Mr. McBeavy. Opie starts showing up with things that don’t belong to him, which he says are gifts from Mr. McBeavy, but Andy knows that Opie must be stealing things. It’s time for a hard talk about lying and telling the truth.

In the crucial scene of the show, Andy goes upstairs with the intention of “whipping” Opie for lying, but then a few minutes later he comes back downstairs having decided not to punish his son. Barney says, “Andy, do you mean that you believe there is a Mr. McBeavy?” Andy responds, “No, but I do believe in Opie.” No, but I do believe in Opie. He trusts in the relationship with his son, even as he doesn’t understand what is going on with facts that just don’t add up. The distance and discord between these two truths is hard to reconcile. In the next scene Andy goes out into the woods, in frustration and conflicted emotions. In an act of frustration he calls out, “Mr. McBeavy,” and he then he hears someone from above call down to him saying hello. As it turns out, Mr. McBeavy was really a man who works on telephone lines “up in the tree tops” and his “extra hands” are the tools that he carried on his belt. Andy shakes his hand and tells him he’s never been so excited to see some in his life…sounds a bit like Thomas, doesn’t it.

Andy’s trust in his son was so strong that it led him, with his doubts to go out and encounter the truth. He seeks understanding, even amidst his faith and doubt.

Back to our story from the gospel: when the next Sunday arrives Thomas is in the room when Jesus appears again. This time Jesus has come for him in particular. To gather him in, to welcome the one who as left out. To welcome him with his doubts, his normal, natural, mature doubts, and then to transform them and him into something new. In light of the resurrection, everything is new, nothing is the same, and Thomas too experiences a profound transformation. Viewing his friend and teacher alive again before his very eyes, Thomas, “Doubting Thomas” exclaims, “My Lord and my God!” My Lord and my God. This is the first time in the gospel that anyone calls Jesus “God.” This is the first time that the full divinity of Christ is proclaimed. “Doubting Thomas” turns out to be the best theologian in the whole group of disciples. The first one to understand and name what’s really going on. Being truthful, being honest, being mature and authentic with our faith, not running from our doubt, but travelling through it, to the other side (however long that journey may take) is something that Thomas shows us how to do. Thomas is much more than a doubter, but the ways that we talk about him and his doubt also reveal something about the depth and maturity of our own faith.

Ok, here’s a little test. When I say a word I want you to say the opposite. Ready?

Light- Dark. Hot- Cold. Big- Small. Sun-Moon.

What? Are you sure? The sun and the moon, are they really opposites? Well, in our common speech, in simplistic terms, we treat them like they are opposites — the same way that we treat faith and doubt as opposites. But in truth, in reality, the sun and the moon are not opposite at all. The sun is a massive giant gaseous star producing light and heat which gives us energy and light. The moon is a much small ball of rock that spins around us. To primitive people who’s only sense of reality was their own experience, the sun and the moon seemed like opposites, but in truth, with a real understanding of our solar system we know this isn’t the case.

How do we seek the moon at night? Does it shine it’s own light? No, it can’t. It can only reflect the light of the sun. At those moments when we think we cannot see the sun, when we in our rotations have turned our back on it. But of course, the sun is still there, and it is still shining, and we still see it though reflected light.

In the same way in our moments and seasons of doubt, when our sense of God seems cold and weak, when all we can perceive is our lunar doubt, could it be that even our doubts are a reflection of God’s constant presence and love? Could it be that when our backs are turned and we are in the dark God’s light is still shining, and we are still seeing it even when it doesn’t seem to be the case? Could it be that, like Thomas in our story, being honest about our doubts and questions, engaging them authentically and maturely rather than running from them with childish fear may lead us to an encounter with our crucified and risen Lord?

For Christ is the light that shines, even in the darkness, no matter how deep the darkness. Christ is the light that could not be extinguished or overcome, even by the powers of death. Christ is the light that came back for Thomas with all his doubts, who did not abandon him to the darkness of his sorrow. And Christ is the light that comes back for each and every one of us as well, to welcome us in and shine his light on all our places of darkness.

To God alone be the glory.

Scripture
John 20: 19-29

19 When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’ ²⁰After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. ²¹Jesus said to them again, ‘Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.’²²When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. ²³If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.’

24 But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. ²⁵So the other disciples told him, ‘We have seen the Lord.’ But he said to them, ‘Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.’

26 A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’ ²⁷Then he said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.’ ²⁸Thomas answered him, ‘My Lord and my God!’ ²⁹Jesus said to him, ‘Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.’

Sermon

April 16, 2017  Rev. Dr. Buz Wilcoxon

 Jesus Christ is risen today! Alleluia!
Our triumphal holy day! Alleluia!
He is risen, indeed! This is the great truth of the Christian message. The good news that transforms all our darkness into light, our hate into love, our death into life. Jesus’ resurrection from the dead, the return of life into every cell of his deceased body, is the foundation upon which all of Christian faith and witness is built. And yet, amidst the joy and celebration, part of the deep deep mystery of this day, is that no one was there to see it happen. No one saw his still heart begin to beat again, no one heard the air rushing back into his lungs after three days of lifeless emptiness. This is the single most important event in all of history, in all of creation, but no living being was there to witness it occur. We don’t have “indisputable video evidence” of the event. We only have the aftershocks to tell us what occurred before the dawn on that first Easter morning.

Imagine, if you will, a body of water, a large still lake, so calm and still that it seems like one solid piece of glass. Have you ever seen water like that? So glass like that the reflection of the sky seems as if it were the real thing? Now, imagine that suddenly, unexpected, when no one is looking, a large rock is thrown into the middle of the lake. You didn’t see it happen, no one saw the original event, but you know it has occurred because of the ripples that it produces. Many expanding ripples running through the water, that is no longer calm at all.

That’s precisely what happens in the gospel story of Jesus’ resurrection. The event itself, the wonder beyond all wonders, occurs without any witnesses, but the ripple effects that it causes are what we do see. The first ripple comes from the earth itself with a great earthquake shaking things loose. This mystery of resurrection produces a tectonic shift in the ways of the world, birth pangs of the new creation.

Then we see another ripple, a break in the boundary between heaven and earth. For an heavenly messenger is sent down, descending like a bolt of lightning to our world. In Matthew’s gospel, every time an angel appears it is always at nighttime in a dream, until now. Now, in light of Jesus’ resurrection, this angel appears in broad daylight in real life, proclaiming a real message that will shatter everything we thought about reality.

He speaks to the women, these two named Mary. They cannot believe what is before their eyes, but oh what their eyes have seen these past few days. When all the male disciples turned their backs on Jesus and ran for the hills, these women stayed with him. They were there to witness him being nailed to a cross. They were there watching as he spoke his final words and breathed his dying breath. They were there when his limp and lifeless body was taken to the tomb and buried. Oh what their eyes have seen, already. And now they are here, in the place of death, and they meet this angel who tells them that Jesus is not here. “He is not here,” where he is supposed to be, where we expect to be. He is not here in the grave, he is not where we think all stories end. He is not here in the place of death, because he has been raised from the dead! So, the angels says, go tell the others. Go tell the good news!

The next ripple in the waters of reality occurs. The women run from the tomb with a holy mixture of “fear and great joy.” They run to tell the story. To tell the story of the empty tomb, but on the way they see him with their own eyes. Along the road, they meet their master, their savior, face to face. It really is true, he is risen, he is risen indeed, and they fall down and worship him. They touch him with their own hands, only daring to touch his feet, reaching out in hope and in fear to feel his body for themselves, to feel the good news, to feel resurrection life. Can you imagine what this experience must have been like? The story only gives us three measly sentences about the women meeting the risen Christ. For an encounter like this transcends our language, words are simply not enough. With an echo of the angel’s words, Jesus sends them on their way, on their holy errand, to go and tell others what has happened.

The ripples from this resurrection continue to spread and flow. The message is proclaimed first to the dense and fearful disciples. Their community that was scattered gathers back together. And together, they will meet Jesus as well, face to face, before he leaves them.

Then more and more ripples. As this truth of Christ’s resurrection, this message of God’s triumph over death is spread through the ancient world. The ripples begin to grow and grow larger and more powerful into entire waves of transformation. In the wake of Christ’s resurrection, lives are changed, people are gathered together, outcasts are welcomed in, empires are overthrown.

On and on through the ages, the ripple effects of that Easter morning continue to spread and flow into our lives today, throughout our world today. These waves of resurrection, tides of transformation, flow and crash into all places of brokenness in our world: all places of war and violence, into all systems of injustice and oppression, into all relationships of abuse and betrayal, into all prisons of darkness and sin, even into the presence of death itself. The death-conquering love of God, the transformational kingdom of God, the new creation which begins on that first Easter morning continues to spread and wash over our weary and broken world. And it washes over each and every one of us as well.

For which of us has not faced the dark shadow of death? We have had our hearts broken by painful news around the world of our fellow human beings, brothers and sisters created in God’s own image, being slaughtered by the forces of violence. We have been overwhelmed with sorrow as we speak a final goodbye to ones that we loved so dearly, to ones who taught us who we are, to generations that modelled life and truth to us. We have been knocked speechless by tragedy when children or others far too young have been taken from us far too soon. We have sat in silence and fear for our own lives, when a new diagnosis comes: cancer, Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s, stroke, the decay and failure of our bodies. For ourselves and for others near to us and unknown to us, we have walked through the value of the shadow of death. Many of us this very day may feel like we or someone we love, or our whole twisted world is stuck in that valley with no path out of it. That’s why this truth of the Easter message still matters in our world and in our lives

A century and a half ago, the English poet Gerard Manley Hopkins found himself one day overwhelmed by these feeling of darkness of in the face of death, terror, and tragedy. Off the coast of England there was a shipwreck and all the passengers aboard died. Among the group were five nuns, who were fleeing their homeland as refugees, seeking religious freedom on other shores. This senseless tragedy sounds like the kind of thing we might read about in our news today. Well, Gerard Manley Hopkins found himself in a dark place when he heard the news of the wreck and the nun’s death. He had not written a poem in over seven years, but he as he struggled to find a way through this valley of the shadow of death, he put pen to paper and composed perhaps his greatest masterpiece. At the end of the poem, after he tells about the ship’s sinking and the nuns’ dying he turns the attention of his heart and mind to Jesus, to the hope of resurrection that is so much stronger than the moments of darkness and tragedy in our world. In the poem, he prays that the light and love of the risen Christ would spill into his own life and the lives of his countrymen. He prays, “Let him Easter in us.” Let him Easter in us. Easter—not as a day, a noun, but as a verb, an action that the risen Christ continues to perform in us, living again in us. “Let him Easter in us!” Let those ripples of truth, those waves of transformation wash over us and change us.

As those who have heard the truth—whether for the first time or the thousandth time—as those who have heard the truth that Christ has conquered death, may we be set free to live, to really live as people of hope instead of fear. May we be set free to risk sacrificially, to give generously, to love wholeheartedly, to forgive graciously, to laugh joyfully, and to sing triumphantly that “Jesus Christ is risen today!” This day, and every day “Let him Easter in us!”
To God alone be the glory!

Scripture

Matthew 28:1-10

After the Sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. 2 And suddenly there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord, descending from heaven, came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. 3 His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow. 4 For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men. 5But the angel said to the women, ‘Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. 6He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. 7 Then go quickly and tell his disciples, “He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.” This is my message for you.’ 8So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his disciples. 9 Suddenly Jesus met them and said, ‘Greetings!’ And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshipped him. 10 Then Jesus said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.’

Sermon

April 8, 2017; Rev. Dr. Buz Wilcoxon

This day begins a week of contradictions. A week of deep irony and mystery where thing are not as they should be or not as we expect them to be. It’s a week that we call “Holy” but in truth it reveals, in raw transparency just how broken, twisted, and unholy we are a people. This week begins with waving of palms and ends with the hammering of nails to a cross. This week begins with children singing and ends in torture, mockery, and death. A week of contradiction: From light to darkness. A poor, wandering, homeless teacher is paraded into the city as if he was a conquering king, and then he is executed as a criminal, hated and derided by most people and abandoned by those who loved him. From that triumphal entry with palms and hosannas, he walks into the Temple, the holy place of worship, and finds that it has become a great contraction itself, it has become a center of greed and corruption, of economic oppression, hidden behind a mask of empty religion. From a “house of prayer for all people,” it has become a “din of robbers.” He cleanses the Temple. He casts our what does not belong so that this holy place can be purified for true worship, and what is his reward? The religious leaders, the ones who say they care so much about purity and holiness and doing what is right begin conspiring for a chance to arrest him.

A week of contradictions. In our story today, we see these contradictions on full display. It begins with Jesus, the Messiah, the anointed one of God, entering the house of a leper, one who is sick and unclean, and not allowed into good society. Thus, it is the outcast who welcomes him in. Then in the midst of a massively patriarchal society, Jesus allows himself to be touched by this woman. He praises her. Of all his followers, he says that she will not be forgotten. The woman without a name is to be remembered through all the ages.

What contradictions: Anointed for a burial, while he is still alive A great honor that is seen as just a waste of money. And it all leads Judas, one of the twelve, to abandon the one who called him to follow…thus the week of contradictions continues. Plans hatched in secret lead to an execution carried out in broad daylight. Sharing the intimacy of a final meal with the ones that were closest to him, and then betrayed by one of these very friends, betrayed with a kiss.

Arrested for disturbing the peace, then put to death in a violent act. Mocked as a fake king, and yet revealing the brokenness and corruption of all the kings and empires of our world. The messiah, God’s chosen one, the one who was supposed to lead God’s people to victory is put to death as a common criminal by the enslaving forces of the world. This is a week of contradictions. But in truth Jesus himself is the greatest contradiction of all. He is God, and yet he is human. Creator and creation. One of us and yet nothing like us. Fully God. Fully human. Eternal and everlasting, without beginning or ending, and yet able to be killed on a cross. This is the great mystery of the incarnation, the great contradiction that begins on Christmas and spills over into every one of his actions, the great paradox that leads him and us to the cross.

As strange as it is, as much as this Jesus does not, cannot fully make sense to us, this mystery is necessary. It is needed. He must be this paradox, fully God and fully human, if he is to save us, redeem us, reconcile us. His very being is, at its core a contradiction, and he must be so for our sake. For we too are people of contradictions. Are we not? We are people broken and divided, conflicted and confused. Created in God’s own image, and yet denying who we really are with nearly every breath we take. Created in love to love, created good and very good, yet fallen and broken, sinful and unable to love…not even ourselves.

We want peace in our world and use all the weapons of warfare to achieve it. Entrusted to care for God’s creation and yet ignoring, abusing, and destroying it at every turn. We are given the gift of freedom and we enslave ourselves to the powers of this world. Created in a beautifully diverse pallet of humanity, and yet fearful and unwilling to trust anyone who is different than ourselves. We work and work and work and work so that one day we might be free to be our true selves, only to learn that in all our doing we have forgotten who we really are. We are a conflicted and contradicted people. A broken and fallen creation. And that is precisely why we need this one, and him alone to save us. In his own contradictions he is the mystery that can redeem us and reconcile us. He alone can transform our brokenness into beauty, our fear into hope, our hate into love. Our sin into salvation. He alone is the light that can shine event in the deepest darkness. In him, in this mystery of redemption, this contradiction becomes the gift of grace. This is a week of contradictions, because the story does not end the way all other stories do. The way all stories are supposed to. From light to darkness to light again. From life to death to life again. This week changes all of history, a dead body leads to an empty tomb. A crucified criminal becomes our resurrected Lord! It is this unexpected ending, this mystery beyond all mysteries, this good news of resurrection that reconciles us, that saves us, that transforms us and transforms this week of contradictions into something we can truly call Holy.

To God alone be the glory.

Scripture

Matthew 26: 1-116

¹When Jesus had finished saying all these things, he said to his disciples, ²‘You know that after two days the Passover is coming, and the Son of Man will be handed over to be crucified.’

³ Then the chief priests and the elders of the people gathered in the palace of the high priest, who was called Caiaphas, ⁴and they conspired to arrest Jesus by stealth and kill him. ⁵But they said, ‘Not during the festival, or there may be a riot among the people.’

⁶ Now while Jesus was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, ⁷a woman came to him with an alabaster jar of very costly ointment, and she poured it on his head as he sat at the table. ⁸But when the disciples saw it, they were angry and said, ‘Why this waste? ⁹For this ointment could have been sold for a large sum, and the money given to the poor.’¹⁰But Jesus, aware of this, said to them, ‘Why do you trouble the woman? She has performed a good service for me. ¹¹For you always have the poor with you, but you will not always have me. ¹²By pouring this ointment on my body she has prepared me for burial. ¹³Truly I tell you, wherever this good news is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in remembrance of her.’

¹⁴ Then one of the twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests ¹⁵and said, ‘What will you give me if I betray him to you?’ They paid him thirty pieces of silver. ¹⁶And from that moment he began to look for an opportunity to betray him.

Sermon

April 2, 2017: Rev. Dr. Buz Wilcoxon

Introduction

Throughout the season of Lent, we prepare to celebrate the most important events in our Christian tradition, the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Here at Spring Hill Pres, we have spent these weeks of Lent listening to stories from scripture about people of faith who resisted the empires of their world. We heard about the Hebrew slaves who fled from the empire of Egypt. We heard about Rizpah, a grieving mother, who stood up against the death-dealing forces of her own people of Israel. We heard about Christ’s invitation to live as countercultural witnesses through the teaching of the beatitudes. From the book of Revelation we heard about the early church’s call be a community of hope amidst the empires and death.

Now, we turn our attention to another critical time in the family story of the Church. In the book of Acts we read about the work of the Holy Spirit, lighting a spark of faith that spread like wildfire throughout the ancient world. Through the brave work of missionaries more and more people from vastly different and diverse races, cultures, and backgrounds were gathered together and welcomed into the church, a community that did not conform to the ways of the Roman Empire. Our scripture lesson today comes from one of these great missionary journeys. The Apostle Paul and his partner Silas have been travelling around the Mediterranean Sea planting churches wherever they can. But, up until this point, all their work has been in the continent of Asia. They haven’t dared to go too far from their home base. But in a vision, Paul hears God calling him to travel to Greece, to take the message of Jesus into Europe, to encounter a very different culture than the one he knows back home.

In the passages just before this text, Paul and Silas have done, just that. They have come to Greece, to the city of Philippi. So much is different here, but one thing remains the same. The Roman Empire is in complete control…or so it seems. They met a woman named Lydia, who helps them to start a church. And a few weeks later, our story pick up as these missionaries are on their way to church. Let us listen for the word of the Lord.

[As the story continues, Paul and Silas tell the jailor all about Jesus and he welcomes them into his home—from prisoners to honored guests. The jailer and his whole household are baptized and become followers of Christ.]

Sermon

In this little snippet from the book of Acts , we see what it was like for the early church to try to follow God’s call in the middle of the Roman Empire. What it was like to point to another Lord besides the emperor on this thrown, to live by the peace of Christ that came through sacrifice rather than the peace of Rome that came through violence and bloodshed.

By my count, in this reading there are four glimpses of the powers of the Empire. Four images of enslavement. Four kinds of captivity. And in response, we see the power of Christ at work, turning the tables upside down, turning the world upside-down. We see some mini-revolutions freeing those who are willing to follow for a new way of life that is not claimed by the empire.

• Enslavement of People

The first instance of enslavement is easy to see, but it may be more than meets the eye. The slave girl is owned by businessmen and possessed by a spirit. Now, explaining the way that ancient people understood reality and the role that spirits played in their worldview is a discussion for another day. For today, there is something important to notice in this particular spirit that has possessed the girl. It doesn’t immediately jump out in the English translation, but in the original language of the story, this girl with the spirit of divination is described in ways that make it clear that she is connected to a particular cult that worshipped the sun god, Apollo.[1] Within Greek culture, this cult was understood to be very important and speak with unquestioned authority. The ancient philosopher Socrates had visited them when he had a question that needed to be answered by the gods. This cult had a long tradition of enslaving and objectifying young women in its service. And we can certainly see this pattern at work in the story. The slave girl is owned by her masters, and they make a substantial profit off of her prophecies and fortune telling.

It reminds me, in a way, of another cult to which we give authority today. The cult of marketing and advertising. The cult that we worship at the tiny electronic alters places at important spots in our homes. These are the people and the patterns that claim to tell us what is true and who we really are. They predict the future promising who we can be if we only buy what they are selling. This cult still enslaves and objectifies human bodies, especially female bodies, in its service. The cult doesn’t care about the ways that it destroys the lives of its servants or dehumanizes society. So long as it sells it’s ok.

But in our story, the slave girl speaks the truth about Paul and Silas, saying that they are servants of the Most High God—the Most High God, higher even than the god Apollo, higher even than the authority of the ad agencies, the power of supermodels, higher than any force or power of the empire. She speaks the truth about the Most High God (even if she is a bit annoying in how she says it) and this truth sets her free. In the name of Christ, the spirit is cast out of her. She is no longer captive to its claim. This is the first great reversal in the story.

• Enslavement to Greed

The second enslavement shows up in the way that the slave girl’s masters respond to the news. They realize that they have just lost their profit stream and they respond by inciting a mob, trumping up false charges and having Paul and Silas beaten and throw in prison. The text tells us that they “saw that their hope of making money was gone.” What was their hope in? Making money. It’s all about the Benjamins, and when that hope was gone, they had nothing else to turn to but anger and revenge. These owners, these businessmen who built their wealth on the exploitation of others are, in truth, enslaved to their own greed and they cannot escape it. They know of no other way to respond than the ways of violence. Here we see quite strongly what it looks like for those in power, for “successful people,” to be enslaved to the tempting, twisting, dehumanizing forces of the empire. This time, though, they aren’t set free. There is no reversal, there is only reinforcement. The greedy and violent business tycoons are left alone by God. Their punishment is to live the rest of their days under their own harsh rule, in their own self-made prisons of empty hopes and worthless dreams.

• Captivity to Unjust Systems

The third kind of captivity occurs when Paul and Silas are thrown into prison for false and untrue charges. What did they do that was against the law? They charged with “disturbing the peace.” And how did they disturb the peace? By worshiping their God and welcoming other people, vastly different kinds of people, rich and poor, slave and free, male and female into their community of faith. That’s not how the Roman Empire works. They were disturbing the shallow and hollow peace that comes when “everybody knows their place and keeps their mouth shut.” Instead, these agents of Christ spoke the truth and invited others to do the same. So, they are arrested. They become captives of the empire, thrown into the maximum security cell of the jail. And what do they do? What would you do if you were in their shoes? Arrested for worshiping God? Condemned because of who you were willing to welcome? What do they do in their prison cells with shackles on their feet? They worship God! They sing and pray and lead other prisoners in singing and praying.

As part of my preparations for becoming a pastor I spent one summer serving in the chaplains office of a maximum security women’s prison. I saw and heard some of the hardest things I’ve ever experienced in my life. Stories of pain, of violence, of betrayal, of evil. Even for me, who got to walk outside those walls every day at 5:00, it was still a dark dark place. And yet, every day I got to hear the prison choir rehearsing. The prison choir under the direction of their chaplain, who taught them to sing and to pray. Their songs of faith and trust were a powerful reminder that God was just as present inside those walls as outside of them, that God’s light was shining there as well. That no story is so broken, so evil, so violent that God cannot still break in with signs of love, forgiveness, and peace.

Those were the kind of songs that I imagine Paul and Silas singing. And then, what does God do for these captives? The God of resurrection life, the God of gospel love sends an earthquake and the walls of the prison come “a tumbling down.” The passage says that the earthquake was so strong that it shook the foundations of the prison. But in their worship and singing behind prison walls, Paul and Silas had already been shaking the foundation of a dark and broken world.

• Enslavement to Fear

Finally, we see one more kind of enslavement in the actions of the jailor. After the prisoners have been set free, in the darkness of night, the jailor assumes that they have all made a run for it, and he knows what that means. It means that he has failed at his post. It means that he will be held responsible for their escape and will be beaten, tortured, and killed by his superiors. So, filled will fear for what is about to befall him, the jailor prepares to take his life. You see, he is also a captive. He is enslaved to the Empire’s greatest power: Fear. Fear, which can lead us to do things that we never thought possible. Paul sees what is about to happen, and rather than let this man harm himself, Paul intercedes. Remember, just a few hours ago this jailer chained Paul and Silas up in shackles, and probably laughed while doing so, enjoying the temporary power trip that it brought him. But rather than letting this opponent, this bad guy, get just what he deserves, Paul speaks up. Paul speaks the truth, and it sets his captor free. Paul interrupts the jailor’s violent attack on himself, and once again speaks the truth that leads to peace and reconciliation. In an act of complete reversal, Paul shares with him the good news, welcomes him in as a brother in Christ, baptizes him to share in the new life of the crucified and risen Lord.

——-

Four shows of power by the Empire, four kinds of enslavement and captivity: 1) captivity of people treated as property, 2) enslavement to greed, 3) captivity to violent and broken systems, and 4) captivity to fear itself.

What do we learn from this story? What does it show us about what it mean to be a person of faith in the midst of the empires of our world today? What does it mean to be baptized into the body of Christ, the community of the church, that is called to live under a different Lord, following a different peace, claiming a different salvation. What does it look like to live authentic lives of faith in broken and weary world, a world that seems each and every day, with each new tragedy and trauma, each betrayal and broken relationship, a world which seem to only make things more and more dark?

What does it look like? How do we truly worship God, speak the truth, and resist the Empire?

We do so, by letting go. Letting go of our destructive habits and forces that exploit people as commodities for our own comfort. It means letting go of blind allegiance to any forces, any powers, and ideologies or worldviews that entrap and ensnare us in the myth that violence is the best answer to the world’s problems. Shaking the foundations of the empire means letting go of greed and fear. Disturbing the simplistic and empty peace that is only oppression in disguise.

Like Paul and Silas setting out into new and unknown areas, letting go means venturing into new landscapes of love, new relationships of reconciliation with vastly different kinds of people. It means following God’s call to new and uncharted territories of trust and sacrifice, into places of great reversal, where God is turning the world upside down. The God who will not let the empires win, the God who overturned even the power of death itself and raised Jesus from the dead for us, the God who promises in Christ to set us free and to change us into a new creation. To God alone be all honor and glory, now and forever. Amen.

[1] In the original Greek, the girl is described as being possessed literally by “the spirit of the python,” which is a reference to the Oracle at Delphi.

Scripture

Acts 16:16-29

One day, as we were going to the place of prayer, we met a slave-girl who had a spirit of divination and brought her owners a great deal of money by fortune-telling. ¹⁷While she followed Paul and us, she would cry out, ‘These men are slaves of the Most High God, who proclaim to you^* a way of salvation.’ ¹⁸She kept doing this for many days. But Paul, very much annoyed, turned and said to the spirit, ‘I order you in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her.’ And it came out that very hour.

19But when her owners saw that their hope of making money was gone, they seized Paul and Silas and dragged them into the market-place before the authorities. ²⁰When they had brought them before the magistrates, they said, ‘These men are disturbing our city; they are Jews ²¹and are advocating customs that are not lawful for us as Romans to adopt or observe.’ ²²The crowd joined in attacking them, and the magistrates had them stripped of their clothing and ordered them to be beaten with rods. ²³After they had given them a severe flogging, they threw them into prison and ordered the jailer to keep them securely. ²⁴Following these instructions, he put them in the innermost cell and fastened their feet in the stocks.

25About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them. ²⁶Suddenly there was an earthquake, so violent that the foundations of the prison were shaken; and immediately all the doors were opened and everyone’s chains were unfastened. ²⁷When the jailer woke up and saw the prison doors wide open, he drew his sword and was about to kill himself, since he supposed that the prisoners had escaped. ²⁸But Paul shouted in a loud voice, ‘Do not harm yourself, for we are all here.’ ²⁹The jailer^* called for lights, and rushing in, he fell down trembling before Paul and Silas.

[As the story continues, Paul and Silas tell the jailor all about Jesus and he welcomes them into his home—from prisoners to honored guests. The jailer and his whole household are baptized and become followers of Christ.]