Sadly, we tend to focus on what the resurrection means to us as individuals. We think of it in terms of “being saved” and being forgiven. We can go to meetings and hear testimonies of how Christ has saved someone from this, that or another problem, but it is all directed inward.  Our salvation, our born again experience is not an ending to itself. It is but a beginning: a beginning of a new life in Christ where we learn that loving God and loving our neighbor are one and the same.  Our Lord Jesus Christ taught us that we truly love God when we insist on giving a drink of water to someone who is thirsty. We truly love God when we offer food to someone who is hungry, or clothing to someone who is naked. We truly love God when we welcome the stranger, the homeless and alien into our midst. Our ability to love God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength and loving our neighbor is the true sign of the impact of Christ’s resurrection in our lives. 

      In today’s gospel reading, John tells us that Mary didn’t recognize Jesus when she saw him. She thought he was the gardener. How often have we not recognized Jesus in the stranger, in the face of someone in need, our neighbor or those of a different race, gender, economic status or even sexual orientation? How sad it is that many Christians confident in their personal salvation worry more about what constitutes a legal marriage than the plight of the millions who are facing foreclosure and losing their homes. Are we there yet? No. 
 
      But, there is hope. Holy Week and Easter demonstrate that God’s love can overcome any adversity and any barrier we might put in its path. As the Psalmist says, “On this  day the Lord has acted.” On this Easter Sunday  we celebrate and recognize that God did and continues to break through our pride and enter into our hearts and minds and show us how to live an abundant and gracious grace-filled life. God can redeem anything that desires to change. Ah, but that’s the heart of the issue. The resurrection of Christ will mean nothing unless we are willing to let it change how we live in this community and the world. 
 
      On all those family vacation trips, my sisters and I learned that part of the joy of arriving at our destination was in the journey itself. Seeing new things: counting cattle in the fields; watching for out of state license plates and so on. It is the journey that makes our arrival that much more meaningful. Are we there yet? No … Oh, we’ve arrived all right, but our journey – our new journey of resurrection in Christ- has just begun. And as we move forward and become known for our unconditional love, we begin to understand the depth of what it means to be a people of the resurrection. Resurrection is our hope, it is our destination, and it is our new beginning. 

     When we start to love God and neighbor as Christ has loved us, then we will begin to see Christ in every person we meet. Like Mary, we will be able to proclaim “We have seen the Lord:” Not just at the garden tomb, but in every person we encounter. And in so doing, what we say with our lips, we will demonstrate in our lives as we welcome, forgive, and embrace all who seek to know God. Let us  seek to be Christ to this community so that in us  – our unconditional love – God’s love  – all will see the Lord about whom, on this day, we shout “Alleluia, Christ is risen!” (The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia!)  Thanks be to God! Amen.

    A clergy colleague told me a few days ago that, for him, too many churches in West Memphis preach a “false gospel” or a “social gospel” focused on God’s love, community and bettering our world rather than what he believes is the “true gospel: the gospel of repentance.” I respect this colleague and yet, I was troubled by his remarks because, for me, I think the exact opposite: there are too many churches that preach what I consider to be a “false gospel of repentance.”  It’s not that I reject the notion that we need to repent - we must do so – we must seek amendment of life– that’s why confession is a part of our daily prayers and our weekly worship together. But repentance is not an end to itself. As James says,“faith without works is dead” (James 2:17). Where repentance becomes a false gospel is when it suggests that it is all that matters;  when it does not embrace and urge us to social responsibility; when it says that Christianity is simply about your  personal relationship with Jesus Christ and to hell with everyone else. A “true gospel” builds relationships with God and with each other; it restores community; it redeems from sin; it creates the desire in us to change how we live; and it invites and welcomes everyone to God’s table. A “true gospel” says that no one is worthy of God’s love and yet, God still loves us just the same and, in Jesus Christ, God redeems us. To reduce our faith to a mentality that says, “It’s just Jesus and me and no one else matters” is a false gospel  and it creates a religion that is cold, rigid, hurtful, narrow, controlling, embarrassing, and mean. I grieve that that is the message portrayed by so many Christians.

      Our reading from Mark this morning affirms that what God desires is not ritual or sacrifice, but rather, hearts that love God and neighbor as if they are one and the same. Jesus says to those who grasp this, “You are not far from the kingdom of God.” Our relationship with God and each other is about love and love alone. As St. Paul says, “Without love we are nothing but obnoxious noise.” (I Cor. 13:1) 
 
      Many Christians will gather this week in this City and throughout the world and, with penitent  hearts, walk the Way of the Cross remembering our Lord’s sacrificial death in atonement for our sins. Holy Week is just as much a call to repentance as it is a call to social responsibility because we cannot truly repent if we are not willing to change how we live. We cannot truly be God’s people unless we will hear, obey, and empty ourselves. And Above all else, we cannot love God unless we love our neighbor and seek to care for them as if they are Jesus Christ himself.  

      When people see us at prayer this week will they see a community committed to loving God and our neighbor, or something as cold, hurtful, and mean-spirited as observed on the steps of our Supreme Court or as preached from far too many pulpits in this city? May God forgive us and create in us clean hearts that love and live as Christ’s own redeemed people every day. And, in following our Lord’s example, participating in his journey these next seven days, may this Holy Week change and reshape us into a true people of God known for unconditional love. That is the message of Holy Week and I invite you to embrace it not just today, but forever. Amen. 

     So, I looked to today’s Gospel reading and thought that its wonderful metaphors about seeds dying and the sacrifice of Christ would be a marvelous sermon. I already had what I believed to be a perfect illustration in mind. In college I wrote a rather brilliant term paper (well it got an “A)  about how often in classical literature, the hero has to die in order for something new and greater to come into being. What a great illustration! Then I set that aside and turned my attention towards Jesus’ words about hating life, not as in outright detesting and loathing life itself because life is a sacred gift of God, but rather, about rejecting the world’s allure to exalt the self above all others: the temptation to worship the created, rather than, the Creator. There’s a great Lenten theme about rejecting the world’s values and embracing God’s way of life. And then Jesus goes on to describe how he will draw all people to himself as the embodiment of God’s new covenant. Great sermon ideas, indeed, but then again the Holy Spirit kept nudging my thoughts elsewhere.

     As my prayers continued throughout the week, I found myself drawn to today’s Epistle reading where the writer to the Hebrews speaks about a high priest named Melchizedek. I wondered how on earth this obscure story could apply to our Lenten journeys and our call as God’s people. As much as I tried to direct my thoughts elsewhere, this story kept emerging.        
 
     There is a plaque hanging on our wall at home with this simple message: “Bidden or unbidden: God is present.” Bidden or unbidden – invited or not invited – asked or not asked, God is still present among us. God comes if even when we forget to ask for, or even seek God. 

      By the time our forefather, Abram, had come to the Valley of Shaveh – the Valley of the Kings, as described in Genesis chapter 14, Abram had become a laughingstock. He believed that God had promised to make of him a great nation but that promise required Abram to pack up everything and move into a foreign land. For years, he and his family lived as Nomads traveling great distances clinging to a promise that God had special plans for him and his offspring: a promise that through him, all the nations of the world would be blessed. I like to think that, like all people of faith who, at times, find that life is extremely difficult: that each day requires us to make choices; that we often second guess our motives and actions, and wonder if that voice speaking within us truly is the voice of God, Abram had doubts. When he would tell his story of God’s call, people laughed just as they sometimes laugh at our stories of faith today. 
 
      In the 14th Chapter of Genesis, Abram has wandered into a valley where all the kings of the earth are at war. It is a dreadful scene and, no doubt, Abram wondered what on earth was he thinking when he said, “Yes” to God’s call to a new way of life. It is at that very moment that a man arrives – a man about whom nothing is known in scripture and nothing more is said for thousands of years. Genesis (14:18) describes this uninvited guest with these words, “And King Melchizedek of Salem brought out bread and wine; he was a (high) priest of God Most High and he blessed him.” 
 
      Melchizedek in Hebrew literally means the,“King of Righteousness” and he is described as the King of Salem and Salem means “peace”. He is a high priest of “El-Elyon” which means “God most high: the God above all other gods” Melchizedek, the King of Righteousness and Peace; the high priest of God comes into this Valley – uninvited and yet, he shows up just the same bringing bread, wine, and blessing. Somehow, in the midst of his doubts and wonder, God’s presence is suddenly made known to Abram through a visitor and Abram finds renewed strength for his life-long journey.  
 
       Thousands of years later, the writer to the Hebrews recalls this story of Melchizedek and, while he is unsure if the Christ and Melchizedek are one and same person, the author is clear that they are cut from the same cloth. He describes Jesus as our high priest “according to the Order of Melchizedek.” Lest we forget, only the high priest could stand before God in the Holy of Holies of the Temple at Jerusalem and offer a sacrifice for the atonement of sin and bring redemption. Our lesson from Hebrews tells us that Jesus’ has become our high priest who, having offered himself for our sins and having overcome death, brings us bread and wine and blessing. Those are lovely images and might inspire deep gratitude within our hearts, but surely, there has to be something more here. 
 
     And there is because today’s reading from Hebrews recalls the passion of our Lord not in terms of overwhelming power and purpose, but in terms of his human weakness and suffering as he prayed to be saved from the power and realm of death. Hebrews describes Jesus as our compassionate  high priest who has shared in our flesh and blood as one of us. He was tested just as we, God’s sons and daughters are tested. Hebrews says that in walking the way of the Cross, Jesus learned obedience (2:14-16)) and in biblical terms, obedience is always  about deep listening. Jesus listened deeply not only to the words and will of his father, but, perhaps even more important to us and as an example to us as God’s people, he listened compassionately and deeply to the sufferings of all humanity; a humanity described by St. Paul (Eph. 2:1) as dead in sin. This is the Christ who walks with us; carries our cross with us; and calls us to set aside the allures of the world and resurrects us to new life not just at Holy Week or in Lent, but every day of our lives. This is the Christ who leads us to recognize that bidden or unbidden, we are called to be God’s presence in this world. 
 
      My beloved, when Abram’s life spun out of control and he was, perhaps, at his lowest, there appeared a priest-king binging with him righteousness, and peace and a sacramental meal. Unbidden: un-asked for. He just came. And this is where this story should shape our Christian journeys: We have been baptized into Jesus Christ and, now as his body – the Church – we share this same order of high priestly ministry as Melchizedek called to serve as God’s reconciling presence in our communities. We must  show up when people need us. We are called to come unbidden, uninvited, and unasked for bringing with us God’s peace and blessing. We come carrying the sacrament of Christ in whose Name we serve, we die, and in whom we live. 
 
     Bidden or unbidden: God is present. We must do likewise because, as our Lord said, “Where I am, (bidden or unbidden) there will my servant be also.” Amen.

    The people of Israel had been wandering in the wilderness for many years: A wilderness journey of their own doing because they refused to trust in God, and often complained that God should do more for them. Time and again, God delivered the people from death; from disease; thirst and starvation and; for a brief time, they’d be happy. But just like us – it’s human nature you know – after a while they start to complain again. In today’s particular reading from Numbers, God has just saved the Israelites from an attack and certain death by the King of Arad and yet, they complain again to Moses: “Why have you brought us out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? We detest this food! There is no water” and so on. So, God gets really ticked off and sends poisonous serpents into their camp. The serpents start biting people and they die. For me, the God portrayed here is a “mean old God who punishes us when we step out of line.” But, I think that the reality of this story is that God gave the people exactly what they wanted.

      Where have we seen the serpent before in scripture? In the Garden of Eden, when it slithered up to Eve, opened its vile mouth, and began to lie – to question the goodness of God and to slander God’s character suggesting that God was holding back some special blessing from them. Adam and Eve chose to listen to, and believe the serpent: the serpent who had never done them any good. They preferred its lying voice to the voice of God. And now, their children in the wilderness are doing the exact same thing: In spite of all that God has done for them, they choose to believe the lies of their colleagues who say God doesn’t care; that God should do more for them. So, God gives them what they want: You want to believe lies about me? You want to hear the serpent’s voice again? Here you go: and the serpents start to kill them. 

     Our reading also tells us that, like always, when the people cry out for help, God hears them and offers a way to be healed. God instructs Moses to make a serpent of bronze: to place it on a pole and lift it up for all to see; and those who are poisoned and dying can just gaze upwards at this bronze serpent and be healed. What the heck is that about? Didn’t we just hear the Ten Commandments in last week’s lessons? We’re not supposed to gaze upon idols or create graven images, let alone seek their help. But, it works. The people are healed. What is going on here?

      We read in John’s gospel that this story of Moses lifting up the serpent in the wilderness was a foretelling of the crucifixion of Christ. Our gospel reading offers that Jesus is superior to Moses. For Moses just lifted up a bronze serpent but, in allowing himself to be lifted up as a sacrifice, Jesus offers healing and new life that goes beyond the temporal: it is eternal. Aha, we see the connection here. But, then our Lord goes on. While the healing described in our Old Testament story was made possible simply by gazing  upon this lifted up bronze serpent, Jesus says that gazing at him is not enough. His sacrifice works for those who have faith; if we are moved enough to believe it. Jesus says, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes  in him may not perish, but may have eternal life.” We know that verse as John 3:16 and many of us can say it by heart. Yet, in our evangelical zeal that often uses this verse to condemn those who might believe differently from us, we must remember John 3:17 that says indeed, the Father sent the Son not to condemn, but in order to save so that we might all become children of God. This conversation in John’s gospel that began with Nicodemus coming to Jesus at night becomes a teaching on the kingdom of God with its promise of an eternal life and relationship with God that comes in its fullness not at the end of this age, but rather, at Calvary – when Christ is lifted up - it is here now – and in order for that promise and kingdom of God to change who we are, all that is required of us, is faith. 

      St. Paul, writing to the Ephesians, tells us that salvation is not something we can do or earn for ourselves as if there is an endless checklist of good deeds to be done like earning a merit badge. Paul says, “For by (God’s) grace we have been saved through faith,  and this is not (our) own doing: it is the gift of God. 
 
      We hear this reading from Ephesians at Baptismal services because it is a marvelous description of the new life God offers each of us through Jesus Christ. The tough part for us is being willing to accept God’s gift. Nevertheless, Paul says that we were dead in our sins, but by the grace of God – our faith in Christ – we have been made alive once more. And this new life is not simply a resuscitation of our old selves, but rather, it is a new life, a new creation, whereby we live as God’s own children created in Christ for good works, for making a positive difference in our communities and the world not because we have become great humanists, but because we carry with us the light of Christ that offers a new vision of God’s active presence in all creation. 

      Throughout this Season of Lent, we have heard, time and again, that faith in Christ has a cost. That’s why I think faith is often so difficult to grasp. Faith requires that we look for and see God in the midst of our circumstances even when those circumstances overwhelm us with despair. Faith enables us to trust God in all things: to recognize that while God might not “fix” our particular situation; God is still present with us and to us just the same. The difficulty is being willing to simply let God be present and not demand more. 
 
      Sometimes in our frustrations with life, we are tempted to raise our fist at God and say, “Can’t you do something? Get these snakes out of here!” But the truth is God has already done something in the redeeming work of Jesus Christ whose cross stands as a witness to God’s grace to us by God’s gift of faith; and who teaches and offers us a new way of life. The people of Israel eventually made it to the Promised Land but, the truth is, there was a lot of dying in wilderness along the way. Snakes, difficulties, loss, and even lack of faith, often cause us, like the beggar in the parking lot of St. Mary’s bookstore, to walk away disgusted when God doesn’t do what we want. It’s at times like this that I think God should be ticked off and yet, my experience has been that God understands our human nature –God has dealt with it for thousands of years. (As Paul says, “we are what we are.”) God knows our imperfections, my imperfections, and even when I am ungrateful or demand more from God, or when I choose to ignore God’s commands and insist upon doing things my own way; when I forget to say “thank you,” it is faith  that makes it possible for me to hear God’s voice speaking, not in frustration or anger, but with that gentle mercy described by the Psalmist as forever – I hear God whisper to me, “You’re welcome.”  Thank God for grace and for faith! Amen.