Living Bread

By The Rev. Deacon Christine McCloud

In the name of the Living God, our Rock, our Redeemer. Amen.

Maybe you’ve noticed that the Gospel lessons for the past three weeks have come from John. We started out with the story of Jesus feeding the five thousand on the mountainside with five loaves of bread and two fish in verses 24-35. The people who were fed were amazed that not only did they have their stomachs filled but that there was enough left over to fill yet another 12 baskets for a later time. They knew that they had witnessed a miracle from Jesus and readily claimed him to be the prophet who was to come to them. They believed so much in Jesus after seeing and sharing in this miracle that they were ready to come, forcefully take him, and make him King. Their belief and faith in Jesus was ironclad… at least until the next day that is… when their hunger kicked in again and they looked for and to Jesus to feed them again. Their full bellies from the day before gave them their faith and belief -- not Jesus. Their main concern and interest was their physical need, not their spiritual lives or condition. When they finally find Jesus in Capernaum the next day, he tells them directly that they seek him not because they witnessed the miracle of the feeding, but because they had been given an opportunity to eat their fill of the loaves and fish. He goes on to tell them: “Do not work for food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life. Of course, the people not knowing what Jesus is talking about, challenges him. Tell us they say, “What sign are you going to give us then, so that we may see it and believe you?” “Our ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written, ‘He gave them bread from heaven to eat.’” Jesus says to them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”

Last week, we heard verse 35 again and then verses 41-51. “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.” Today, in verses 51- 58, Jesus said, “I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”

John uses repetition in these Gospel writings to drive his point -- to make it clear to us -- that Jesus IS the only bread for eternal life. Yet, like the people in Jesus time, we don’t really get the point. Oh, we understand the words well enough, but most of the time, our brains disconnect when the message isn’t interesting enough or just doesn’t satisfy our desire for what we WANT -- not what we NEED.

Even the response of the people in the various Gospel passages tells us a lot about what people wanted verses what they needed. They were more interested in following the “soup kitchen” Jesus, Jesus the cult leader and miracle worker. That whole “I am the bread of life” thing and “Whoever eats of this bread will live forever” just wasn’t flying with them at all. And so, because what they wanted clearly wasn’t going to be offered to them again, most of them left, simply stopped following Jesus. But Jesus, being Jesus, remained steadfast and on point. He didn’t adjust his teachings to get the people to continue to follow him. He didn’t beg them to come back. He continued to offer them what they needed - eternal life through spiritual nourishment and renewal. Jesus leaves it to the people to decide for themselves and us: choose eternal life or not.

This is probably one of the biggest challenges we have as Christians. To choose eternal life requires us… really demands from us… that we surrender our whole being to Christ. Not just parts of ourselves on Sunday morning, but every day, every hour, every moment of our lives to live in Christ’s love. The notion of surrendering ourselves to something or someone is challenge enough for most of us. And honestly, our societal norms and culture make it seem almost impossible to give into this idea. The reality though is that many of us have tremendous voids within our lives. It has been said that there exists in each one of us a “God-shaped hole” that can be filled only by a deep and nurturing relationship with Christ. Yet, many of us attempt to fill our voids with things that ultimately don’t satisfy anything in the long run. Since most, if not all, of these things can ever make us permanently happy, they tend to become our obsessions and addictions. We seek more money, food, sex, power, material things, fame, thrill-seeking, alcohol and drugs -- things that generally call for more and more of them all the while they give back less and less for the amount we consume and/or spend for them. And at the end of the day, we still feel empty.

Jesus said, “I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.” Metaphorically, the bread that Jesus offers is not only his flesh and blood, it is love. It is the love of the invisible God made flesh in the incarnation of Jesus who comes into the world to be accessible to us, in our human condition and experiences. Jesus offers us an opportunity for a deeper relationship with God through him. When we embrace this love, bring it into our lives and allow the spirit of Jesus to fill our deepest void and hunger, this love begins to manifest itself and it overflows to others.

Mother Teresa of Calcutta understood this two-dimensional love better than most. As most of us know, she and her Sisters of Charity went around the streets of Calcutta, India searching for those who were destitute and who were left to die in the streets and alleyways of the city. She and her sisters would bring these people back to their mission were they were bathed and cared for. Mother Teresa said: “Every person at least one time before they die needs to know that he or she is loved.” She understood that Jesus, being the bread of life, came into the world to show us that we are loved by God and that when we choose eternal life through Him; His love overflows through us and impels us to love and care for others.

Jesus longs to be a part of us. He tells us, “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them.” What I hear when Jesus says this: “I am giving myself freely to you. No conditions, no requirements. Come. Come just as you are and take me in. Take me into the deepest part of you and know love as you have never known before. Come.”

In a few minutes we will stand before Christ’s table and celebrate the Eucharist. Come as you are. Come just as you are. No conditions, no requirements. Christ promises to meet us here to give us new life through Him with the breaking of the bread and the sharing of the cup. Come and be filled with his grace and everlasting love. Come.

Amen.

© 2009 The Rev. Deacon Christine McCloud

“What Kind of Easter Story Is This?”

By The Rev. Deacon Christine McCloud

Come Holy Spirit: Touch our minds and think with them; touch our lips and speak with them; touch our hearts and set them on fire with love for you. In the name of the risen Christ who brings us life from the tomb. Amen.

For me, there is nothing better than a good ending to a story. Since I don’t always have the time to read simply for pleasure, when I finally do have the chance, I want a story where all of the loose pieces come together, where all of the problems are resolved and where what finally happens at the end of the story is actually what I would hope would happen. I’ll tell ya, after reading Mark’s Gospel; I was left a little blank… even slightly annoyed. What kind of abrupt ending is this to the most significant event in our Christian history, the heart -- the very heart of our faith?!?!?! Can someone please tell me what this man was thinking?!?!

Unlike the other Gospel stories about the resurrection, Mark gives us no appearance of the risen Christ, no joy or wonder -- just the two Mary’s and Salome, told to “go tell” the good news running away in abject terror! Holy cow! If Mark’s Gospel was being produced for a production studio, there is no doubt in my mind that there would be an immediate demand for a re-write. Actually, there were at least two other re-writes of the ending of Mark’s Gospel -- you can find these re-writes bracketed in your bibles. I’ll be honest, they don’t necessarily help Mark’s story too much, because they’re so different from the actual writings of Mark; you can tell they were written to try to help this Gospel story conform to the later Gospel stories written about the resurrection. So, I guess, if you’re disappointed with this account, you’ll just have to come back tomorrow morning to hear the Gospel of John and his resurrection story! I know you’ll really like that one, but in the meantime… back to Mark.

Here we all are in our sanctuary, so beautifully adorned by our altar guild, our choir and musicians ready to lead us in joyous praise and what we get is Mark’s Hallelujah refrain: “…they said nothing to anyone for they were afraid.” Oh, come on now! What kind of Easter story is this? Where’s the Good News? What kind of Hallelujah refrain is that, huh? Thankfully, we know that the women did “go tell” – someone said something to someone otherwise we wouldn’t be here tonight celebrating.

The truth of the matter is that Mark’s Gospel is one of the earlier accounts written about the resurrection. He was sharing his account of the resurrection for the earliest of Christians just some forty years after the actual event. Mark was actually writing for those who were already living into the joy of the Resurrection life. They already knew that Jesus had been raised from the dead and because of that, they had already accepted and were living, radically transformed lives. But what were they doing about it? Did those who had discovered Jesus had risen realize just how important it was that they remember what Jesus had told them and go tell others?

I guess, when looking at it from this perspective, maybe this retelling of the story isn’t so strange or as disappointing as it might be at first glance. Mark was a man who didn’t like to waste time and he got right to the point: the stone had been rolled away, the women were terrified and the men, Jesus’ disciples were nowhere in sight. The women run off in fear. What was going to happen next?

The one element of mystery in this Gospel is the young man dressed in a white robe who tells the women, “But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.” It’s a proclamation Mark fulfills in the writing of his gospel -- with or without a dynamic ending. If we take the time to read the whole of Mark’s Gospel, we find that Mark has said almost everything that he needed to say about ‘what Jesus told them’ right up to the resurrection. He tells us throughout his writings about how the disciples didn’t understand Jesus; that they didn’t really understand the discipleship to which Jesus had called them. So maybe we shouldn’t be too surprised that the women didn’t understand either. Jesus had told the disciples he was going to be put to death and be raised on the third day. It was one thing as an idea. It’s another thing as an experience.

Okay… wait a second. Maybe Mark knew exactly what he was doing when he wrote the story this way. It takes some time, but it gets a little clearer. Could it be that he is telling us that if we really seek to understand the meaning of Jesus, the meaning of the empty tomb, then we need to remember the beginning of the story –- back in Galilee where Jesus preached and taught and healed and announced the coming of God’s kingdom? “He is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.” Could it be that Mark is saying that in order for us to live the Resurrection life we have to be willing to follow Jesus who has gone on ahead… that we must follow… to the cross to the empty tomb and to understand what happened there we must be willing to remember what he has done for us and to go tell. The kingdom of God comes into our own lives first—often with fear and trembling.

There actually is a resurrection story here. We can’t stay at or in the tomb. But we have to start there. We have to throw off the old, tired, worn and heavy clothing of our pasts that deadens our hope, diminishes our faith and leaves us in a state of mourning. We can’t wait… we can’t afford to wait. To leave our tombs means to start again and to be born again in the spirit of endless love. It means that to those of us who are choked in anger or bitterness, sadness or grief; or those who might be burdened with illness or disease; or those who have been abused in mind, body and spirit; who are embarrassed and ashamed -- we move forward not on our own, but in and with the Resurrected Christ who gives each and everyone of us new life through a love unknown like any other.

This is the Resurrection story: that Jesus Christ was raised from the dead to take us all out of our darkened tombs and to transform us into a new life with Him. Sometimes, we just need to be reminded of this… sometimes, I need to be reminded of this.

I have a friend, a dear friend who constantly reminds me that I am loved… so loved. Who reminds me that I am not alone to face the darkness of my life… that there is a plan so defined by God for my life that all I need to do is to be willing to open myself completely to his infinite love. And so, I want to tell you, just as my friend tells me, just as God tells us… that you are loved… so loved.

On this holy night of nights, we came in from the darkness and into the light. We welcome Scarlett, our newest light of the faith. We remember what God has done for us and we reconfirm for ourselves that we too are sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked as Christ’s own forever. Paul tells us in his letter to the Romans: “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life.”

The stone has been rolled away! We don’t have to do anything by ourselves, because Christ has done it all already through his dying and rising. The tomb is empty! Christ’s love for us removes our doubt, our pain, and sorrow, the shame and anything else that keeps us from new life. It’s gone. There is no power left in these things anymore. We are free! Free to move forward and into the light and love of life. We are free!

Christ has gone ahead of us! He has gone ahead to clear the path so that we can walk forward, tentatively or with assurance, into unknown territory and maybe even into an uncertain future, but always with his love enfolded around us as we make our way. There is an amazing life that God has for each and every one of us. A life not lived in fear and shame, but in and through his power and light.

The stone is gone. The tomb is empty. We are free. And a new life awaits each one of us. But above all else, we are loved… so loved. Go tell!

Alleluia! Christ is risen! Amen.

© 2009 The Rev. Deacon Christine McCloud

Gabriel's Gift

By The Rev. Deacon Christine McCloud

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight. All this we ask in the name of our God who created us, His Son who redeems us and the Spirit that makes us holy. Amen.

As we come to the end of our liturgical year, we pause and take this day to acknowledge and honor Jesus Christ as our king; to celebrate His victory over death and to examine what His authority over His kingdom means to us. We not only come to this day to celebrate the person and work of Christ, but we look to the absolute certainty that His continuing reign among us assures us of His everlasting peace and justice for all of His people.

Matthew’s Gospel brings us full circle from the Ezekiel reading. Ezekiel shares with us that God will take over as the shepherd of his sheep and that he will seek out and search for his sheep. God will gather them up and bring them to a safe place -- “their own land” -- from those places from which they had been scattered on the day of exile. And God gives his promise to find those who are lost; and to those injured, He will heal; and to those weak, He will strengthen. But, there is also some bad news to ponder. Ezekiel makes it clear as does the Gospel of Matthew, that there will be judgment by God on the last day. The entire flock, all of us, Ezekiel proclaims, will stand before God to be judged for the treatment of our fellow sheep.

There will be consequences for our actions and inactions. What is made clear in both the Old and New Testament readings is how we treat one another matters. But it’s important to understand that the readings today are not about a theology of works of righteousness. If we take the time to understand and put into context all of Jesus’ teachings, then what should emerge for us is that we do acts of love and compassion not to gain a room in the heavenly mansion. No. We do these things because of the One who loved us first. We do these things in response to what God has done for us through Christ. And because of God’s love, we should be absolutely impelled… driven without hesitation… to love others because there is absolutely no other way for us to respond to God’s powerful, transforming love.

Exactly who are the “least of these”? The Gospel tells us, “for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” Before we take the jump to look outside of ourselves to see who these “least” might be, I thought it would be best to stay right here -- within these walls -- and take a moment to identify with the “least” among us.

Many here at St. George’s understand what it means to be exiled. From family and friends; from co-workers, even our own Church communities and parts of the world, we have experienced and felt exile simply because we happen to be gay or lesbian. Others here who aren’t gay or lesbian also understand and have experienced exile for other reasons but imposed by and from many of the same entities. Most of us, if not each and everyone of us here, knows very intimately what it feels like to be naked and exposed -- to have our vulnerabilities sitting right out in the open -- because of the painful hurts and deep wounds inflicted and suffered at one time or another. Most of us have been thirsty for love, hungry for companionship, and to have a sense of belonging.

Who are the least of these that Jesus speaks of? It’s all of us in some way or another. Yes. Jesus speaks and identifies first with the poor, the weak, the sick, the lonely, the aged, the imprisoned -- but he also speaks of and to us. There were no outcasts in Jesus’ ministry -- there are no outcasts in His love for us. Each one of us who has experienced any kind of spiritual or emotional exile often find ourselves longing for the God who searches us out; we long for the God who heals our wounds; and we long for the God who restores us to new life in Him through Jesus.

At the end of our lives, it doesn’t matter if we lived a long life or a short one. In the end, it doesn’t matter whether or not we made a ton of money or we were the hottest personality around. In the end it only matters if we brought joy to those around us. In the end, it only matters if we gave what we had to better the life of someone else, known or unknown to us. Whether what we had to offer was clothing or food; to visit or care for someone who was sick or imprisoned; or to give the simple gift of a red tricycle to a homeless child living in a shelter.

For the past several weeks, I’ve been on a journey with a little 2½ year old boy that I personally never had the opportunity to meet in this life. But I have met him and have come to know him through God’s amazing grace. I have come to know him through his artwork that he and his mother Suzette did while he was in the hospital. I have come to know him through his father Miguel who read the most amazing love letter to him at his funeral right here at St. George’s not so long ago. I have come to know him through his grandmother Yolanda who made a promise to buy him a red tricycle for his 3rd birthday.

Gabriel left us at the tender age of 2½ years… just 17 days before his 3rd birthday. But oh sweet Jesus, what a life this child had! He was the absolute embodiment of love. He gave all that he had and all that he sought in return was the absolute love of those in his life and he received that love back from them in abundance. His short life was filled with the beauty of his artwork, the beauty of his joyful spirit, the beauty of his song and dance, the beauty of the love of his family -- a joy so absolutely fundamental to who he was, that his parents, Suzette and Miguel, stood right there; right there, next to his casket and did Gabriel’s “happy dance” during his funeral. My friends, I can’t even begin to express to you my feelings at seeing the both of them -- naked and exposed in their grief -- dancing for Gabriel, their most beloved son who they lost so early. That moment will forever remain in my thoughts and in my heart.

Gabriel left us far too soon, but his life will not be a story of only loss, or a story of God’s absence. His story is a story that his parents and grandparents are determined to write for him. His story will be one of kindness, generosity and love. A little later on during our service, Father Poppe will bless a tricycle in Gabriel’s name on behalf of another 3 year old child from Turning Point Community Services, the shelter program for women and children that I oversee and which Carla and I founded some years ago. It is my absolute honor to be able to accept that tricycle on behalf of Gabriel for this child. I am deeply touched and moved beyond words at the incredible act of unselfishness offered by Yolanda in her grief.

Because of a grandmother’s promise, 3 year old Iyanna will be able to know a different type of joy in her young life. She’ll ride around on that tricycle with exuberance, leaving her 3 year old worries and cares on the wayside. She’ll be able to dance the happy dance of playfulness and enthusiasm with her new bike. And why? Because of Gabriel.

On the 4th Sunday of Advent, we will hear in Luke’s Gospel how God sent His angel, Gabriel to visit Mary and to tell her of her favored status with God and that she would bear a son. The word angel means messenger. I truly believe that our Gabriel is a messenger sent from God; sent to teach us what life can be like. A life lived in full abundance -- full of creativity, hope and joy -- a life that touches the lives of others with grace, wonder and possibility. Can any one of us aspire to more than this in our more advanced years? You see, it really doesn’t matter if we live long or short lives.

Mother Teresa said: “We can do no great things for God, but we can do small things with great love.” This small gift from a small boy’s grandmother is a gift of that great love. Yolanda’s love for Gabriel as well as Miguel and Suzette’s love for him and Gabriel’s love for them, issues forth in love for every parent, for every grandparent, for every aunt and uncle and cousin, for every godparent, and every child because they know -- they know as we should know -- just how special and irreplaceable each and every person is.

Each one of us here today is that irreplaceable. Each one of us here today is that loved. God loves each one of us equally. He loves us so completely and calls us to love one another as He loves us. There is no “us” and “them” -- there is only “us”. There is no “we” and “they”. There is only “we” -- one family, cradled under one God, each one of us brother and sister to the other in Christ just as Gabriel is now a brother to Iyanna and who will watch over her as she races around the shelter on that little red tricycle and as he will watch over every other child that comes through our doors. The least of us -- the hungry, sick, naked, poor -- we are siblings to them all. How will we love them? How will we love us?

In the end, it won’t matter if we lived long lives or short. It won’t matter if we made a fortune or lost a fortune; it won’t matter if we built the biggest house in the universe or if we lost our home. What will matter: did we take the opportunity to share what was ours and share it in love? Did we recognize and understand that we are so inextricably bound to one another that our caring for our neighbor is caring for God Himself and that this is always our calling? Did we take any risks -- did we step out in faith -- to help another?

Jesus tells us: “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me.”

Amen.

© 2008 The Rev. Deacon Christine McCloud

Times Are Hard; Times Are Turbulent

By the Rev. Deacon Christine McCloud

Come Holy Spirit: Touch our minds and think with them, touch our lips and speak with them and touch our hearts and set them on fire with love for you. In the name of the Living God. Amen.

To say that these are difficult times is a little oxymoronic, but the truth of the matter -- these are difficult times. Within the past week and a half, we’ve had historic financial meltdowns that have sent shock and concern across the world. As I thought about all of this nonsense this week, it reminded me somewhat of being on an airplane when it encounters dangerous and frightening turbulence. Everyone on board seems to tighten their seat belts, kicking themselves because they didn’t catch the last rolling of the beverage cart to order that bottle of anything strong, and the air is fraught with palpable anxiety. Often times, the cabin becomes eerily quiet and you’re left with your thoughts jumping all over the place. Difficult times produce many of the same feelings don’t they? Anxiety, confusion, and fear surround us like a wet blanket.

We’re flying in the midst of economic turbulence. No one knows how long the bumpy ride will last. No one really knows what the short or long term effects any bailout effort will have, but we’re all very clear that the average taxpayer will get stuck paying for Wall Street’s greed and speculation binges at some point. The consequences of short term rewards blinded most to the long term dangers that are inevitable when unbridled power and greed are at the helm. Our culture has become trapped in a false sense of values where huge profits and gain dictate what is important -- more profit and gain and less concern for the common good.

Bono, the rock star and anti-poverty activist said this week: “It’s extraordinary to me that the United States can find $700 billion [dollars] to save Wall Street and the entire G8 can’t find $25 billion [dollars] to save the 25,000 children who die every day from preventable diseases." [1]

Well, it’s extraordinary to me as well. I can’t even begin to fathom what $700 billion dollars looks like! All I can envision are brigades of cloned Treasury workers churning out palettes of money 24/7. But Bono’s point is well made. $700 billion dollars! $700 billion dollars to save the economy from the reckless mismanagement and unethical manner of business that has been pervasive for years. Jim Wallis, Editor of Sojourner’s magazine and religious political activist stated in one of his essay’s this week:

“The behavior of too many on Wall Street is a violation of biblical ethics. The teachings of Christianity, Judaism, and other faiths condemn the greed, selfishness, and cheating that have been revealed in corporate behavior over decades now, and denounce their callous mistreatment of employees. Read your Bible.” [2]

And as Jim has suggested, let’s turn to the Bible and our scripture readings for this morning.

Often, our lectionary readings tie into what is going on in the world. Sometimes, the references are clear and direct; sometimes not so clear and direct. The relationship of the readings this week to what is happening in our world is pretty interesting. Some might say that this is merely coincidental -- I tend to believe that God knows a thing or two about who we are as a people. I think that the strands of the texts that tie us into what is happening around can fall in two categories: By whose and under what authority do we live and how obedient are we to the law of love rather than the law of greed and selfishness?

So, we continue with the Israelites, moaning and groaning their way out of “the wilderness of Sin” -- what an appropriate metaphor, don’t you think? Last week the Israelites were hungry, this week they’re thirsty and they’re taking Moses to task for bringing them to that dry, barren place. Moses, tired and overwhelmed by all of the griping, looks to God and says “What shall I do with this people?” God directs Moses to take his staff -- the same staff that God gave him to part the waters for their safe exodus from Egypt -- and to go find the rock of Horeb with some of the elders, where once he strikes it, water will flow for the people. And again, as with last week’s readings, we find that God provides for his people in the most trying of circumstances. Clearly, times were rough for the Israelites and they never hesitated to make known their complaints. But what they forgot, as we often do, is they forgot who was in charge of their destiny -- their journey. They simply didn’t trust in God’s promises. But God, as is his way, responded to their needs and complaints with goodness and mercy.

Moses could have turned a stone ear to the people. He certainly had every right to resent them for their constant bickering and complaining. But instead, he placed his faith in God and sought God’s mercy and help for the people. Moses was obedient to and lived fully into the law of love -- for both his God and the people to whom God entrusted to him. He didn’t place himself above the people; he didn’t act selfishly and ignore their needs; and he didn’t just leave them to figure it out on their own. He placed the people before himself without question or hesitation. Imagine… just imagine how differently things might be today if the movers and shakers of the huge mega corporations and Wall Street operated within the context of the law of love rather than the law of greed and self interest.

As we turn to the Gospel reading, we have the chief priests and elders questioning Jesus’ authority. They were always questioning Jesus because they were always looking for opportunities to discredit him. Jesus knew this. So, Jesus decides to counter with a question of his own and makes their answer a condition for his answer. “I will also ask you one question; if you tell me the answer, then I will also tell you by what authority I do these things. Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?” You can almost see the chief priests and elders whispering and sweating it out with one another. They knew if they stated that they accepted John’s baptism as divine, they would have to justify why they didn’t believe in John’s teachings and accept him as a prophet. They further knew that if they said that John’s baptism was of human nature, the people would respond angrily because they believed that John was a prophet of God. It was a no-win situation for them, so they decided not to answer at all. They were not willing to stand for their truth because their truth didn’t exist within the realm of God and they knew that. Their truth existed within their own selfish motives, their own desire to retain power and authority and within their own godless convictions. In order for them to answer, they would have to shatter their own self image and strip themselves of their own power. They didn’t have the wherewithal to admit the truth because the stakes were far too much for them to sacrifice.

So when they don’t provide an answer, Jesus takes it a step further and tells them the parable of the two sons. It’s a simple story that Jesus uses to illustrate the nature of God’s kingdom. Jesus, through this parable, is asking us to think about the consequences of our choices. Not just the choices and decisions that count for today or tomorrow, but those choices and decisions that count for all time. Good intentions simply are not enough. Superficial and empty promises count for absolutely nothing at all. God looks to us to have a change of heart so that our actions match our words and that ultimately we do His will and not follow our own will.

How easy it is to point our fingers at the bigwigs at the corporations and on Wall Street and the political machines that have made really bad choices and decisions that have placed us all squarely in this economic upheaval. But the truth of the matter is all of us have gone a little batty in our culture of excessive greed and materialism. We live in an economy based on consumerism which bombards us constantly with messages that we need to buy this new thing or the other. The stuff we seek and want, not need, distorts our relationship with one another and with God. We can’t ignore our own shortcomings and yes, sometimes greed and selfishness, as it relates to this so we all need to take some personal responsibility as well.

Times are hard. Times are turbulent. It’s stressful and full of uncertainty. Our faith in the ways of the world has failed us once again. And it’s exactly at times like these that we need to remind ourselves that WE are the body of Christ and WE must act like we are. We need to recommit ourselves to bringing the good news to the poor, to healing the sick, to welcoming the stranger, and feeding the hungry. We need to remind ourselves that we are called to be in relationship with one another and not materialistic stuff or money. We need to remember, that we are in relationship with a God who loves us and who provides for us and who gives us the gift of peace through His son.

We do not and should not owe any debt to anxiety or fear. Yes, times are hard. Times are turbulent. But we are reminded in the 4th chapter of Philippians: “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your request be made known to God, and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.”

Amen.

[1] Bono: The American Prospect Blog, September 2008
[2] “Sackcloth and Ashes on Wall Street”: God’s Politics - a blog by Jim Wallis and friends, 9/22/08

© 2008 The Rev. Deacon Christine McCloud

Trinity Sunday

By The Rev. Deacon Christine McCloud

Genesis 1:1-2:32
Corinthians 12:(5-10)11-14
Matthew 28:16-60

In the name of the God who created us, the Son who redeems us and the Spirit who sustains us. Amen.

Today is Trinity Sunday. It is one of those celebrations that is a real oddity for the church. It is the only day set aside on the Church calendar that asks us to ponder and consider, maybe even find some clarity, on one of Christianity's most fundamental and undoubtedly, probably one of the least clear doctrines -- the glorious, yet mysterious doctrine of the Holy Trinity. It is also probably the one Sunday of the year that many clergy seem to suddenly find their long lost relatives to bond with or they search doggedly for a guest preacher for the day. And let us pause in quiet for a brief moment and remember the hundreds of poor seminarians, who after weeks of grinding out research papers and honing up for final exams, find themselves standing in the pulpit on this Sunday to preach because its good practice for them. Me... well, always trying to be the good Deacon, just kind of put myself out there, said what the heck, and here I am.

You will be very happy to know that I'm not even going to attempt to stand here and try to explain the church's funny math to you. I can barely master basic math let alone try to think that I could actually explain, with any clarity, on how it is that Three -- Father, Son, and Holy Spirit -- equal One. See, to me, that's funny math and I'm staying far away from that. I also realize that the "traditional" definition of the Trinity is not going to help very much either. I remember the last time someone asked me to explain to them the concept of the Trinity. I am sad to report that my explanation left that person… and me… with more questions than we started off with.

So, I thought, let me turn to the real professionals, the theologians who have spent countless years dissecting and studying the Trinity. The Trinity is explained this way in the Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church: "the one God exists in three persons and one substance, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. God is one yet self-differentiated; the God who reveals Himself to mankind is one God equally in three distinct modes of existence, yet remains one through all eternity." There! I'm sure we all NOW understand this doctrine better. Right? I don't know about you, but I sure don't. I'll be honest with you, my eyes glazed over at the first reading of the definition and I certainly haven't gained any further insight since.

It's dawned on me that maybe… just maybe, the more I try to explain and define what the Trinity is the more I limit myself in understanding the fullness of the whole mystery of not only the doctrine of Trinity, but of God Him or Herself. When I slow myself down a bit and let the idea swirl around my mind a bit more, I realize that I can find a richness in the ambiguity of the language I struggle to seek in order to define this concept. The fact is, and I believe blessedly so, that I can not put my boundaries or limits on defining who God is -- He is totally without bounds and is limitless in His fullness -- both in my life and yours if we allow Him to be so.

So with all of that, it seems wise to focus on our readings this morning. In the Genesis reading, we have the creation story. God empties Himself into the creation in an act of self-giving love. Out of nothingness -- comes the fullness of life. This early community of faith knew God as their creator and in whose image they were created. Not only did they know God as their creator, but they knew -- sensed and felt it deeply -- God's love for them as children know the love of a parent. God was in an intimate relationship with them. He was the loving God who revealed himself to the prophets and as the protector, led them out of bondage and slavery. This is not a God who was far off -- He was a God in relationship with them -- even when things don't go so well and they strayed -- He continued to love them and showed his graciousness to them in spite of themselves.

God continued to pour Himself out to them and us through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. God becomes flesh and dwells among us. It is Jesus who reveals God to us: the God who created us and is creator of all things; the God who watches over us and calls us into constant relationship with Him; the God who is just and loving, who heals and restores, who forgives and sets free. The disciples experienced directly how God acted in profound ways with His people. They didn't necessarily get it right away -- as a matter of fact, they didn't get it until Jesus' ascension. But, in the end, they came to realize the overwhelming love and care that God, through Jesus His son, poured out upon them. In Paul's letter to the Corinthians, he reminds them that when they agree with one another and live in peace with one another, the "God of love and peace will be with them [you]."

And in the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus releases the power of the Holy Spirit upon them on the day of Pentecost as he promised them. The gift of The Holy Spirit brings them full circle with Jesus -- they are filled with life-giving and transformative joy -- which empowers them to go out into the world to "make disciples of all nations" and to bring those new disciples into the fullness of God's love and Jesus redemptive grace for all to live in.

Let's just spend a few moments with the Great Commission given in Matthew's Gospel. "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. 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. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age." This commissioning from God, through Christ, is simple and straightforward. Go and make disciples of all. Teach them to obey what I have commanded you – to love the Lord our God and to love one another as God has loved us. Baptize them. And pray down the Holy Spirit upon them so that they too may come to know the fullness of God's love for them.

What is important to remember about the Great Commission is that we are sent out into the world to be the proclaimers and doers of the Word. It is Jesus, through God who has ALL of the authority – not us. We are to be the vessels of grace and peace and hope and to welcome everyone to discover, freely and joyfully, for themselves, the goodness of God's mercy and love. We are not called to impose our standards or cultural norms upon them; instead, we are called to be faithful witnesses of the redemptive power of Christ and God's never-ending love for all.

The Trinity is the name that we give to the God of our Christian story of salvation. It is the adventure story of God, who creates all from nothing. It is about God becoming flesh and living among us – for all time through -- the power of the Spirit. It is God's story of unbridled love for us because it is His love that overcomes and beats down the power of death. It is the story of God's spirit that transforms and sustains us – who calls us from singleness into community with one another and with the One who loved us first and always.

Why do we take the time to celebrate Trinity Sunday? It is a time for us to pause and wrestle with who God is and how God reveals Himself to us -- to wrestle with who we are and how we are to live in our community of faith and how we are connected to one another. We take the time so that we can understand how God acts and lives in our lives so that we can go out and share with assurance the Good News of Christ in the world.

People who are non-believers don't simply come to believe in Jesus because we can articulate some well-formed doctrine or theology. They are drawn to Christ because they see how Jesus is revealed in and through our lives. They are converted and transformed by the power of the Holy Spirit because they witness the grace and love of Christ at work in and through their own lives. They are converted and transformed, because like us, they are caught up in the hands of the God who made us, redeemed us and will never let us go – in other words: caught up in the mysterious life and power of the Trinity.

This Sunday isn't about trying to explain unexplainable doctrine or to work our way through "funny math." It's a day for us to stretch our minds and consider who God is and how God engages us in ways that we might ordinarily take for granted and to examine what our relationship is to God today. It certainly isn't about knowing the right or wrong answers; it's about the willingness to embrace the mystery of the three different faces of God who is One. It's about taking the risk to truly experience for ourselves the completeness of God -- through Jesus – and allowing the Spirit to dwell not only within us, but to blow us out, into the world proclaiming with confidence the love of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

In Christ, with Christ, through Christ and by the power of the Holy Spirit we are made one with God the Father. Let us go forth into the world proclaiming with boldness and assurance, the Good News of Christ, this day and always!

Amen.

© 2008 The Rev. Deacon Christine McCloud

Long and Dusty Road

By The Rev. Deacon Christine McCloud

And so, our long and dusty journey into the wilderness has begun. Lent not only helps us to recall the forty days that Jesus spent in the wilderness as he prepared himself for his ministry but it also gives us an opportunity to go inward and prepare ourselves all over again for the reality that God has for us. It's an opportunity for us to ask ourselves "Where am I as another Lent begins? Where am I on my faith journey at this moment in time?"

When we look closer at today's Gospel, there is an invitation there for us to understand more abundantly what it means to move from the river into the desert. Jesus, after having been baptized in the River Jordan was led into the desert by the power of the Spirit. It is in the barren desert, rife with temptation and angst, that Jesus comes to understand what the will and purpose that God had for his life. And while Satan or the devil or whichever axis of evil tempted him, we find that the choices Jesus had to make were quite similar to those that we confront in our own personal and spiritual decisions.

Forty days is a long time to roam in a barren desert. But imagine what it would be like to roam in a barren desert for 40 years or more. A desert that borders a land rich with resources; where it borders a land touted to have equal opportunity for all; where it borders a land where all you had to do was work hard to achieve the so-called "American" dream. What do you think would happen to your psyche if intermittingly during those 40 years of desert roaming, you came ever so close to leaving the dustiness of that place only to have someone block your exit and push you even further into the thistle and brush of the desert? Many of us would crumble and fall prey to the vultures circling above. Some of us would compromise our very souls to buy our way out that place. And then, there are others like Absalom Jones, Sojourner Truth, Harriet Tubman, and one in particular whose story I'd like to share with you briefly, The Rev. Dr. Pauli Murray, who not only lived barren, desert lives, but who emerged with absolute resolve, from their personal deserts as significant contributors to our American and African-American history and heritage.

The Rev. Dr. Pauli Murray was the granddaughter of a slave and a great-granddaughter of a slave owner who overcome extraordinary barriers throughout her life. She was born during the height of Jim Crow segregation in Durham, North Carolina in 1910 and was forced endure the wholesale burdens of being a black person in a segregated society. Murray had considerable talents as a writer, activist, and attorney, yet these talents would and could not spare her from the prolific racism and sexism that denied her other educational and career opportunities throughout her life. She lived a lifetime on the margins of racial identity and came to a deep understanding of the connectedness that bound all people together and scoffed at the absurd cruelty of segregation. Murray believed strongly that whites, as well as blacks, had much knowledge and experience to gain from racial interaction and she spent most of her years refuting the shallow myths of segregation. Murray's racial policies centered on inclusiveness of all of the races and later on when her gender became another barrier, she focused as much energy and verve on addressing yet another oppressive system that proved to slowly strangle and kill the spirits of those affected.

As I was pulling my thoughts together for my sermon this week, I took a few minutes and I called Rev. Sandye Wilson who was a protégé of Pauli Murray and I asked her to share some thoughts of Pauli. Rev. Sandye told me that Pauli's life was very much like today's Gospel story – a life of living in the desert. Rev. Sandye went on to tell me, that when Pauli emerged from her wilderness, she ended up doing some extraordinary things in the midst of constant conflict. Pauli she said evaded and eluded many temptations to sell out her soul and principles and oftentimes, was soundly rejected by her own people and community. Yet, Rev. Sandye went on to say, "Pauli remained strong in the face of incredible odds and adversities – she was never afraid because she knew she was never alone." From the little that I've been able to read of Pauli, she refused to be kept down by regrets or expectations of her past. Instead, she lived on the fringes of history and in many cases, just pulled history along with her.

Pauli's journey that eventually led to a law degree from Howard University, a master's degree from the University of California's law school and a Ph.D. from Yale was neither a clear or straight path – she travelled many a long and dusty road in pursuit of her dreams.

Pauli took leading roles in both the civil rights and feminism movements. A friend said of her, "Murray was a civil rights activist before there was activism and a feminist when feminists could not be found." Pauli was a living testament to the ability of a black woman to garner achievements to the match of anyone, black or white, male or female. Her political activism challenged the exclusion of blacks and women before many of these issues were even on the national forefront. She fought for integration before it became a goal of the leading civil rights organizations such as the NAACP whose primary focus was on achieving equal rights, not integration. In 1940, Pauli along with a friend were arrested, jailed and fined for refusing to go to the back of a Virginia bus. This was a precursor to the "jail-no bail" strategy that would gain popularity 20 years later. While a student at Howard in the mid 40's, she participated in sit-in movements to desegregate Washington D.C.'s restaurants and other public facilities long before sit-in's were the mode of choice for the civil rights movement in the 60's.

She was rejected early on to the University of North Carolina law school because of her race and later on, after winning a fellowship to Harvard University, was denied admittance there because of her gender. These experiences guaranteed that Pauli would be both pioneer in civil rights and women's rights. In 1945 Murray successfully completed her Masters of Law degree from the University of California, Berkeley. Her master's thesis was The Right to Equal Opportunity in Employment, which Thurgood Marshal labeled the "bible" for civil rights lawyers. Twenty years later, she was the first African American to be awarded a Doctor of Juridical Science degree from Yale University Law School.

She was a trusted friend and advisor to Eleanor Roosevelt, although their relationship was often called "mercurial and contemptuous." The First Lady sought Pauli's wisdom and council on matters of racial and gender equality. In the 60's, she became a founding member of the National Organization of Women where she is fondly remembered as the one who bridged the gap between race, gender, culture and class with passion and dedication, but without bitterness or malice.

How I came to know about Pauli Murray was that I knew her to be one of the "infamous 11" women who were ordained on January 8, 1977 in Philadelphia. I was 15 years old at the time, a sophomore in high school who secretly dreamed of ordained ministry one day. What a cathartic event that was for me! I remember cutting out and saving the picture from an article from whatever magazine and seeing Pauli Murray's face among the women. Not only were there female priests, but there was one there who looked like me to boot. I carried that picture in my prayer book for many years. It served as a constant reminder to me that things were possible even when they didn't appear to be possible. Somewhere along the way, I lost that picture, but by that time, I no longer needed it because the image was indelibly seared into my brain. The spiritual fortitude and boldness of these women allowed a young teenaged girl to one day realize her own dream.

At 67 years of age, Pauli Murray became the first African-American woman ordained priest in the Episcopal Church. In her autobiography, Song In A Weary Throat: An American Pilgrimage, she wrote: "Several days before ordination, I was suddenly seized by an agony of indecision, as though I had been assaulted by an army of demons. The thought that the opponents of women's ordination might be right and that I might be participating in a monstrous wrong terrified me… I prayed fervently for some sign that I was doing God's will." As the story goes, during the ordination service, Pauli was the last one to be ordained. At the very moment when the bishop laid hands on her head, the sun broke through and streams of colored light shined down through the stained glass windows. The audience gasped, and later on, Pauli was told about the moment. She took it as a true sign of God's will. Her ordination to the priesthood was a powerful sanction of her identity in the oneness of God. One month after her ordination, Pauli had the opportunity to celebrate the Holy Eucharist in the Episcopal Chapel of the Cross in Chapel Hill, the same chapel where records show that on December 20, 1854, her grandmother, Cornelia Smith, a slave child of Mary Ruffin, was baptized. Pauli said of her experience at Chapel Hill that she finally believed that "all of the strands of my life had come together."

Pauli Murray worked incessantly to obliterate any barrier that kept us apart as people. She not only dreamed of a world and society where all of God's people could come together regardless of their differentness, she worked tirelessly to be a model of change. She did not waiver or falter in the face of her own oppression nor did she cower or run from the inevitable opposition from those who were staunchly against any type of change. Pauli knew, better than most, that any type of oppression is a sickness that is a sure killer of the spirit and mind. She knew that the only way to continue the liberation of the human spirit was to "soak ourselves in the waters of our baptism."

Pauli Murray died of pancreatic cancer in July, 1985. With all that she accomplished with her life, for the good works she manifested during our country's most difficult times, her fight for inclusion and connectedness continued and still continues after her death. She forced people to look at the entire picture of oppression. "Don't make me choose which issue to fight for," she once said, "I am as oppressed as a woman in a man's world as I am as a Negro in a White world." Some people – black and white, men and women – hated her for that. As Rev'd Elizabeth Kaeton said, "Why even in ECUSA (the Episcopal Church), it's 'easier' to remember Absalom Jones than Pauli Murray. And this has remained so. It has taken our Church nearly 20 some odd years to even consider Pauli important enough to be included in our Lesser Fasts and Feasts.

None of us will ever have to endure the obstacles that Pauli Murray had to in her life. And virtually none of us will have the opportunities to be leaders in so many different aspects of history as she had. However, all of us do have the opportunity to accept God's invitation to wade in the waters of His absolute love and truth and to set our hearts on fire in passionate service to Him.

Amen.

© 2008 The Rev. Deacon Christine McCloud

Christ the King Sunday

By The Rev. Deacon Christine McCloud

How many of us are comfortable with the notion of kingships or kingdoms? As Americans and those of us have become "Americanized," the language of kingship is a little problematic for us. Our history as a nation was founded and shaped around the democratic principles of government and the idea of replicating a monarchal type of government was soundly renounced and rejected. Aside from our insatiable curiosity of the comings and goings of the British Royal Family, the idea of kingships and monarchies don't really matter much to us at all.

Today, the church sets aside this last Sunday of the church year to celebrate Christ as King. It is more than just a transition of the church seasons; it is also a time when we pause and stop to acknowledge the reign and kingship of Christ. Some find this day meaningless and unimportant – a colossal waste of time. Others find it odd that the Gospel focuses on the crucifixion story at a time when we're getting ready to prepare for the birth of Christ. I think quite the opposite. More than ever, in our war-torn, polarized and demoralized world, we need to take each and every moment we can to remember Christ as our King. It's a time for us to restore our spiritual wholeness in remembering that Jesus' death upon the cross was not some terrible accident or miscarriage of justice… it was the exclamation point of his ministry here on earth.

In Luke's Gospel, he shares with us his understanding of God's radical love and grace for us. It is in this Gospel that we have Jesus being crucified in the city garbage dump of Jerusalem where in his excruciating pain and final breaths of life, we still find Jesus reaching out to the despised and the rejected.

In moving towards restoring our spiritual wholeness we need to explore exactly who was this King of Kings hanging on a cross in the local city dump. When we take a little time to compare and contrast the Epistle and Gospel readings for today, we get a full picture of Jesus from two absolutely opposite views.

Paul in his letter to the Colossians shares with us a profound spiritual view of who Christ is. "…all things have been created through him and for him …in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell…" Luke on the other hand gives us the gut wrenching picture of Jesus hanging on the cross in-between two convicted criminals. The religious leaders scoffed at him, the soldiers mocked him and the people stood by watching and jeering. Even one of the criminals being hanged along with Jesus takes some of his last breaths to insult him.

I imagine that back then, the long awaited Messiah was expected to have a kingdom and rule much like King David did. King David ruled by reclaiming the independence of his people through his mighty armies. Fast forward… here comes Jesus. He's dressed in garments that were more likely closer to pauper's clothing than clothing akin to royalty. He lived among the poorest of the poor… he didn't even have his own home… and he spent most of his days with the despised and least popular folks of his time. And to make matters worse, instead of making his entry into Jerusalem on the back of the "Cadillac" camel, he comes in riding on the back of a donkey. No wonder the crowds mocked him and felt vindicated and content to watch him suffer on the cross.

In some ways today, we still mock Jesus' kingship. The notion of Christ as King in a democratic society seems threatening. Even though many in this democratic society are forever calling for "Christian moral values" to take precedence, there are those of us who ask, whose Christian moral values are we embracing and pushing to the forefront? These so called moral values depicted by the religious right sound neither Christian nor moral to me when they are planted firmly in the language of intolerance and bigotry.

The kingship of Christ and the rule of God is not about earthly power or political authority, revenge or judgment. It is about restoring all of creation to the fullness of peace and justice and to the truth and love that God intended for us. It's about all lands and all people – not just a select few. It's about the interconnectedness of all humanity -- loving our neighbors as ourselves. Jesus' kingship is and always has been vastly different than the worldly kingship. When we celebrate and embrace Christ as King, we are holding up a king who is, first and foremost, a reconciler, a redeemer, a servant. This is a king who not only comes to show us how to live as a people of God in the kingdom of God, but who makes the ultimate sacrifice to save us from our own sins. This is why it is important that we end our church year not with a story of triumph and vindication, but one of humiliation, pain and vulnerability.

Christ's kingship, the love he offered and proclaimed was too radical, too inclusive and far too dangerous to the status quo, then and now. The battle he fought, and still fights, is that of fear and ignorance. He chose as his weapons, words of mass reconciliation, truth and justice, peace and love. How is it then that the very Jesus who gave his life for us to show us how to love one another has had his message of reconciliation co-opted and transformed into a way to polarize us? We need to understand that when we allow others to take Christ's kingship and turn it around to be a rule of law rather than the reign of love that God intended it to be, we grieve the heart of God and Christ's crucifixion becomes far removed from the reconciling act of love it was intended to be.

Why is Christ the King Sunday important? It is important because it is the day that we reclaim and proclaim the Good News of the Gospels for ourselves and the world. This is day that we stand, not in our own self-righteousness, but in Christ's righteousness and share his enduring, sacrificial love at all times, for all reasons. It is a time that we remember that Christ's kingdom wasn't about exercising dominion over people, but instead to transform our lives through his redeeming love and grace.

In spite of Christ's pain on the cross; he forgives. In spite of His suffering, he promises paradise. He gives us hope for better tomorrows when today looks so bleak and hopeless. If you still have problems with understanding or accepting the whole Christ the King idea, it doesn't matter. What we think about Jesus is not as nearly important as what He thinks about us. Be blessed to know that you and I are the objects of his complete, unconditional and sacrificial love at all times.

Amen.

© 2007 The Rev. Deacon Christine McCloud

Easter Vigil

By The Rev. Deacon Christine McCloud

Come Holy Spirit: Touch our minds and think with them, touch our lips and speak with them and touch our hearts and set them on fire with love for you. In the name of the risen Christ who brings us life from the tomb. Amen.

"Why do you look for the living among the dead?" When the women left for the tomb on that first Easter Sunday morning they knew exactly what to expect -- or at least they thought they knew what to expect when they arrived at the tomb. Luke tells us in the Gospel that they carried spices with them that they had prepared. As was their custom, they were coming to carry out the task of anointing Jesus' body for final burial. At the end of their journey to the tomb, they fully expected to find the dead body of Jesus. We know of course what they will find -- but in their minds, they were going to the place of the dead. They were going to view Jesus in his death and not to rejoice in the glory of his Resurrection.

Sometimes, we gloss over details of the Resurrection story because we've already heard the story so many times. Let's be honest with one another, why waste time on the old news -- the unimportant details. Tom reminded us in his Good Friday sermon that there is a danger in skipping over the suffering of Jesus of the past three days and wanting to move right into the salvation part of the story. Oh, we're clear about Jesus' suffering, but we need to remember that those closest to him suffered too. Not the physically cruel suffering that Christ endured for our sakes, but nonetheless, a deep emotional suffering brought on by witnessing the crucifixion of the one that they loved deeply. But the Apostles and the women missed some important details that Jesus shared with them before he died. They were so busy living the life of salvation that Jesus offered them that they forgot that his suffering and death was going to be a BIG part of Jesus' message. They simply did not want to hear this part of the story -- these were the details they wanted to overlook and avoid.

"Why do you look for the living among the dead?" In our own ways, we too, look for the living among the dead. We don't look to the new life that is offered to us, but instead, we often look first to what is totally contrary to what God wants and wills for us. We know the story so well that we often miss the transformative power of the Resurrection that is ours to live into fully. I know, all too well for myself, how easy it can be to miss the message, to forget the essence of what the Resurrection can really mean for me on a deeply personal level. Why? Because I've heard the story; I know the ending and forget that I make a choice -- whether consciously or unconsciously -- to live into my fears, my anger, my own created sense of hopelessness instead of looking to the obvious -- the Risen Christ who is available to me, and you, every hour of everyday and not just during the Easter season.

When things go awry for us, most us run into our own tombs of fear, distrust and aloneness. Somehow, it feels safer to live into the darkness of our lives instead of living into the light of our lives. Again, I know all too well about personal tombs because I've been to my own personal tomb far too many times not to admit it. All of our tombs are built rather securely on the foundations of our fears and inadequacies, and it engulfs us and gives us a false sense of safety and a peculiar sense of comfort. But what do we really find in our tombs: utter emptiness. We spend endless hours and days looking for the living -- that would be US -- amid the emptiness and deadness of our lives.

Setting aside our reserved Episcopal nature for a moment, let's wrap our thoughts around this -- Jesus, my friends, LIVES! Now, I want you to say this with me, LOUDLY and with ASSURANCE. We seem to have such difficulty saying Jesus' name unless it's in the context of the liturgy. I want you to feel JESUS right now. JESUS LIVES! That's right. Jesus is alive, he is well and he is with us and he loves each and every one of us. He is here, right now at this moment in time, in this place, and at every other moment we invite him to be with us. Jesus comes to give us a new life, to pull us out of our personal tombs so that we can carry His light of life into the world. He calls us to be His Light in the world; to be the living among those who are the walking dead.

Our Risen Christ comes to take the deadness of our lives and transform them into new lives. It doesn't matter how bad or how good we think our lives are right now, Jesus is ready and willing to take our lives, resurrect them, and make them whole in the spirit of His love for us. St. Paul reminds us that we are invited to put our old self to death, the self that is enslaved by our fears, so that we might be raised with Christ into the fullness of God's eternal life. And our baptisms and the renewal of our baptismal covenant give us the opportunity to drown the oldness of our lives so that a newness of life can emerge in us.

And so, on this is the night we gathered in our collective darkness and waited for the light to emerge for us and in us. This is the night where we gathered with water to welcome Elissa, our newest member of the faith and to reclaim for ourselves our own baptismal covenant faith. This is the night of our own resurrections. We no longer need to fear our personal darkness or the darkness of the world. It is the night where all things are made new and where we are reminded that death did not have the final say after all.

As we leave this place tonight, let us remember that Easter is not just a single celebration or a season of 50 days. It is the starting point for us to always keep close in our hearts and minds that our God is the source of all life and liberation. That He is the one who leads us out of the land of darkness and chaos into a place of inner freedom and peace. That our God, who gives to us His son, Jesus Christ who redeems us through his glorious resurrection and makes us all new by giving us transformative life outside of our tombs.

Alleluia. Christ is risen. The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!

© 2007 The Rev. Deacon Christine McCloud