Sermon onJohn 3:1-17

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

“How can these things be?” asked Nicodemus.

It’s an appropriate question for Holy Trinity Sunday. Indeed, how can these things be? How can God be simultaneously Three and One?

No one has the answer, not really. And when we try and explain it, we often end up in heretical territory.

We can try to find analogies for the Trinity:

·       God is like water—gas, liquid, and solid, three states of the same substance.

·       God is like a shamrock—three leaves, but the same shamrock.

·       God is like an egg—the shell, the white, and the yolk, but all one egg.

And all of these have an element of truth, but none of them are completely accurate.

We get stuck when we get too heady about complex theological concepts like the Trinity.

That was Nicodemus’s trouble, too. He approached Jesus looking for head knowledge, and Jesus’ responses were…not straightforward.

It kind of feels like Jesus was playing with Nicodemus.

Nicodemus came to him privately after dark and started flattering him (or maybe being sarcastic—it’s hard to tell), but with the implication that he wanted Jesus to confirm his relationship with God.

And Jesus responded, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.”

Nicodemus looked at him quizzically, like it didn’t quite compute, “What do you mean ‘born from above’? That’s not possible—please explain to me the exact logistics of that.”

And Jesus responded by talking circles around Nicodemus, referring to water and Spirit and flesh and wind.

You can almost see Nicodemus sweating, trying to keep up, and the twinkle in Jesus’ eye when he teased him, “Are you the teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things?”

As if anyone could have understood these things.

But Jesus took some pity on him and, though it’s still not exactly straightforward, his monologue at this point at least reassured Nicodemus that God loves the world and sent Jesus to save it.

Nicodemus might not have walked away with a precise description of Jesus’ identity and plan, but it seems he got at least the seeds of understanding.

Nicodemus is mentioned twice more in the Gospel of John:

·       Once when he sort of stuck up for Jesus among the authorities, reminding them that Jesus should get a fair hearing.

·       And again when he brought a hundred pounds of spices to tend Jesus’ body after his death.

Something happened to Nicodemus between this initial nighttime meeting and when he cared for Jesus’ body.

We don’t get a full account of it, but it probably had very little to do with Nicodemus’s intellectual knowledge.

When Nicodemus came to speak with Jesus that first night, Jesus spoke to his heart, not his head.

Nicodemus wanted answers, and Jesus gave him puzzles and riddles that stir up awe instead of precise understanding.

Jesus talked of wind and Spirit and mystery.

But the bottom line was that famous verse and the verse that comes after it: “For God so loved the world…”

God loves the world in this way: God sent God’s Son, (and since we’re talking about the Trinity today) mysteriously also Godself, not to bring disapproval and punishment, but to bring wholeness and life-giving relationship with God to all of creation.

That’s not something to catalogue, label, or dissect. It’s something we can’t fully understand with our heads because it doesn’t make logical sense. But if we feel it with our hearts, it can evoke awe, worship, and love.

God created Nicodemus and the rest of us with hearts and not just heads. Head knowledge isn’t bad—it’s important to think critically and be well informed. But it’s not all there is. We are whole beings with intellects, intuitions, and compassion. We are meant to use these gifts God created us with.

When we insist on intellectually understanding everything, we are missing other parts of our intelligence.

Mysteries of faith like the Trinity are not for us to fully wrap our heads around but instead to tell our hearts things about God’s character.

Things like: God is relational—One in Three and Three in One. God loves the world, and therefore us. Thanks be to God! Jesus came to teach us God’s traits: healing, wholeness, compassion.

In insisting on head knowledge alone, Nicodemus was missing the Mystery. Maybe Jesus was teaching him to open himself to the mystery of God.

We can learn from Nicodemus’s mistake.

We grown-ups often try to trust head knowledge alone. Maybe part of being “born again” or “born from above” is to adopt child-like openness and curiosity.

Madeleine L'Englesaid that “if the book will be too difficult for grown-ups, then you write it for children.”

Children often have not lost the connection to their other ways of knowing.

It’s no wonder Jesus told his disciples that the Beloved Community belongs to those who are like children.[1] In Matthew, Mark, and Luke, Jesus says something to that effect, and we can draw a lot of conclusions from those passages.

But one thing I read there is an admiration Jesus has for the creative thinking of children, the willingness to not take themselves or the world entirely seriously, the capacity to be filled with joy at God’s wonders.

For the grown-ups in the room, we have a lot to learn from that, and it can teach us something about God’s nature.

G.K. Chesterton, who’s birthday is this Wednesday, wrote this:

“Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, ‘Do it again’; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, ‘Do it again’ to the sun; and every evening, ‘Do it again’ to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we.”[2]

We grown-ups sometimes take ourselves too seriously. We sometimes lose our capacity for delight.

We just finished our Easter season of proclaiming joy, and we’ll definitely keep including our moments of joy in our weekly email newsletter.

But what if we practice playing this summer? It’s the perfect season for it. What if we try to recapture some of that “do it again” energy that we may have lost over the years?

You’re all invited to host a play date. After all, why should play dates be just for kids?

Whether you like to craft, hike, sing karaoke, watch sports, or something else, talk to me about planning a play date. You pick the activity and the day, and everyone is invited to sign up and try it out with you. Some may involve movement, and some will be seated. Some may cost money, and some will be free.With enough play dates, there’ll be something for everyone to enjoy.

Kids are often brave about asking others on the playground or in the neighborhood to play with them. Let’s be brave too and ask each other to play.

And you don’t have to limit your playing to church activities. In the spirit of our Sabbath theme, let’s do a summer slow-down for the month of July. It’s the middle of the year, so let’s take some time to catch our breath. We'll still have worship, Messy Church, and Caring Hands, but let's try to minimize team meetings and whatever else we can. Let's cut everything down to the essentials for a month.

I invite you to make that your intention in your personal life, too. What can you say no to for a month? What can you open up space for? Let’s use that time to rest and play and dream. Let’s try to be human beings instead of human doings. Let’s have some unstructured fun.

That’s one way we can open ourselves to listening to all the ways of knowing God gave us.

This summer and always, let’s get more familiar with our relational, loving, Three and One, “do it again!” God.

God’s hand is outstretched, asking, “will you play with me?”

Let’s say, “Yes!”


[1] Compare Matthew 18:1-5, Mark 10:13-16, and Luke 18:15-17.

[2] G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy

Sermon onLuke 24:44-53

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

We extinguish the Pascal candle on Ascension Day to remind us that we no longer have the physical presence of Jesus among us in the way his disciples did after his resurrection. But remember that next week is Pentecost, when we remember that tongues of flame, like the one I just put out appeared on the forehead of each Jesus follower.The physical body of Christ became the Body of Christ in the Church.

But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

And that’s exactly what Jesus warned his disciples against: in Luke, he said, “stay here in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high” and in Acts, “he ordered them not to leave Jerusalem but to wait there for the promise of the Father.”

 As much as we remember these two weeks as the start of the spreading of the Beloved Community beyond Jesus’ disciples, there was also a waiting period. This was an in-between time, not unlike Holy Saturday—the day between Jesus’ death and his resurrection, a Sabbath day when there was nothing to be done, no outlet for the disciples’ grief or fear.

This time too between Jesus’ ascension and Pentecost was a liminal space. Jesus was no longer among the disciples, but the Holy Spirit had not arrived yet.

I imagine there was some confusion and some grief in this in-between time too, just as there must have been on Holy Saturday. Jesus had risen from the actual dead but only stayed with them for a few more weeks? He gave them instructions, but what did it all actually mean?

Liminal spaces, in-between times, are uncomfortable. We like the security of one thing or the other. But Jesus was asking them to wait.

I tend to get anxious and restless during in-between times. I have a hard time focusing, and I tend to find mindless, repetitive tasks to occupy myself with so that I don’t have to deal with the discomfort.

Perhaps this is an in-between time for you right now. Maybe you’re awaiting a medical procedure or recovering from one. Maybe you’re in an in-between time at work. Maybe you’re considering a move or a career change or a leadership position and an answer just isn’t making itself clear.

It's hard to wait. It’s hard to know what to do with yourself in an in-between time.

 

What did the disciples do during their in-between time?

They could have hidden out in the upper room like they had after Jesus’ death. Or they could have given in to their impatience and disobeyed Jesus to go out on their own.

But they didn’t. Instead, “they worshiped [Jesus] and returned to Jerusalem with great joy, and they were continually in the temple blessing God.”

They stayed in Jerusalem, and they worshiped God.

This part at the end of Luke reminds me of something at the beginning of Luke that might sound familiar: “The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen.”[1]

Jesus’ disciples’ reaction to seeing Jesus ascend was similar to the shepherds’ reaction to seeing baby Jesus in the manger. There’s something about an encounter with Jesus that causes an outburst of joy and praise to God.

The disciples took the liminal time in between Jesus’ ascension and the outpouring of the Holy Spirit to rejoice and just spend time enjoying God.

And that’s where the Gospel of Luke ends, with the disciples “continually in the temple blessing God.”

It’s only a breath before the book of Acts begins, by the same author, to the same audience. The two are so closely tied that they’re considered two volumes of the same work, called by scholars “Luke-Acts.”

This liminal moment of joy and praise could be considered the hyphen between the two volumes.

It’s easy to overlook these details and just read ahead into the exciting and powerful stories in Acts. I had never really noticed what the disciples did in the meantime until I looked at this story through the lens of Sabbath.

But it’s meaningful that the disciples spent their time of waiting enjoying God.

 

For us today, even though God’s presence is all around us, it’s hard for us to find time to just enjoy God.

In an in-between time, it’s easier to access anxiety than joy.

And whether you’re in an in-between time or not, I know you all have a lot going on with working, parenting, grandparenting, caregiving, volunteering, studying, leading in this faith community and elsewhere, and so much more.

That’s enough to raise anyone’s anxiety level.

It’s no wonder it’s hard to find time to spend with God.Even an hour on Sunday mornings can be a struggle. I get it.

We have grind culture breathing down our necks, trying to tell us we’re not enough unless we hustle 24/7, optimize our schedules down to the second, and squeeze every drop of productivity from our exhausted bodies. That’s not healthy or helpful.

So, let’s take a moment to check in with our bodies.

As you feel comfortable, take a couple deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth.

Again, if this feels comfortable to you, turn your head to the side and the other side a few times. Now look straight ahead and tip your head from side to side. And if it feels comfortable, roll your head (not back) just with your nose going from one shoulder to the other. Roll your shoulders if that feels good.

Just that can be enough to ground us in our bodies and in the present moment.

That’s the opposite of what grind culture wants from us, but exactly what God invites us to.

It can and will look different for each of us.

It can, but doesn’t have to, look like reading your Bible or spending time with your hands folded and your head bowed.

It can, but doesn’t have to, look like stargazing or dancing or crying or napping or holding someone’s hand.

What brings you joy or causes you to be in awe?

What places cause you to be in awe?

God is, of course, everywhere, including within you. And also, we humans tend to find the sacred more easily in some places—places of beauty or serenity or connection. T.S. Eliot put it this way, “You are here to kneel / Where prayer has been valid.”[2]

Prayer is, of course, always valid, and the Holy Spirit intercedes for us even when we don’t have the words. But still, there is something significant about connecting to generations before us, standing in aweof the glory of creation, seeking the presence of God in a peaceful place.

I encourage you this week, whether you’re in an in-between time or just the normal busyness of life, to carve out some time to just enjoy God.

Maybe a good place to start would be finding your own place “where prayer has been valid.” Spend some time there—or if it’s too far away or exists only in memory, spend some time visualizing yourself there, making it a sacred internal place you can return to in your mind and heart whenever you need it.

Wherever that place is, spend time there this week, worshiping God with great joy.


[1] Luke 2:20

[2] T.S. Eliot. Four Quartets, “Little Gidding.”

Sermon onJohn 15:9-17

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

This week’s Gospel reading picks up where last week’s left off. The night before Jesus died, he was reassuring his disciples that he would always be as connected to them as a vine is to its branches.

I got a little ahead of myself talking about joy last week, when it doesn’t show up until this week’s reading, but isn’t that the thing about joy? We can’t control it, and sometimes it shows up at unexpected times. Thank you, by the way, to those of you who have emailed me your moments of joy. It brings me joy to read them.

Joy is the fruit of abiding in Jesus and loving each other.

And Jesus continues to explain the connection between him and his disciples. They’re not just students or servants—they’re his friends. He says they’re his friends because he has explained everything to them and that they are to do what he has commanded them.

So, who are Jesus’ friends today?

The criteria Jesus names in our reading are that his friends:

·       Have been taught what the Father made known to Jesus

·       Do what Jesus commands

As far as the first goes, pretty much anyone today who wants them has access to Jesus’ teachings in the form of the Bible. There are about 2.4 billion people who call themselves Christians around the world today.

And as for the second, you might have noticed that we Christians sometimes have very different and even polar opposite ideas of what it means to follow Jesus’ commands.

I heard a joke once that I’m going to adapt for our context:

Sam was hiking one day when he heard cries for help. He ran toward the cries and found a man hanging off the side of a cliff. He was able to help him to safety, and the man, whose name was John, thanked him profusely.

John said, “Thank God for you! You’re such a blessing!”

Sam said, “Oh, so you’re a person of faith! Me, too!”

They hugged and said, “Oh, brother! I’m so glad to have met you!”

John said, “I’m a Christian.”

Sam said, “Me, too!”

They hugged and said, “Oh, brother! I’m so glad to have met you!”

John said, “I’m a Protestant.”

Sam said, “Me, too!”

They hugged and said, “Oh, brother! I’m so glad to have met you!”

John said, “I go to a Lutheran church.”

Sam said, “Me, too!”

They hugged and said, “Oh, brother! I’m so glad to have met you!”

John said, “I go to an LCMS church.”

Sam, an ELCA Lutheran, cried out in horror, “You heathen!” And pushed John back off the cliff.

 

Sometimes those closest to us are the hardest to get along with.

 

And yet, Jesus commands us to love one another. That’s the commandment he gives in this teaching: “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.”

How do we do that with people who do and believe things that seem very un-Christ-like, when they would probably say the same about us?

The early Jesus followers in our Acts reading were dealing with questions of belonging and identity and who qualified to be a Jesus follower.

They had their own ideas of what a Jesus follower should look like.

And then the Holy Spirit sent them Cornelius.

He was a Gentile—not of Jewish heritage.

He was a centurion—part of the Roman Empire that had condemned Jesus to death and occupied their land.

And he wanted to hear what Peter had to say.

So, Peter went and told him and the friends and relatives who had gathered with him the story of Jesus, from his baptism to his resurrection.

And while Peter was speaking, “the Holy Spirit fell upon all who heard the word.”

The Jesus followers who had come with Peter were “astounded that the gift of the Holy Spirit had been poured out even on the gentiles.” This was new. These Jewish Jesus followers weren’t quite sure what to do. These Gentiles didn’t fit the idea in their heads of what Jesus followers were like.

But Peter knew what to do. He had had a vision of the extent of the inclusion of the Beloved Community. He saw a sheet with “all kinds of four-footed creatures and reptiles and birds of the air,” and was instructed by a heavenly voice to “kill and eat.”

Peter protested, “By no means, Lord, for I have never eaten anythingthat is profane or unclean.”

The voice replied, “What God has made clean, you must not call profane.”

Right after this vision, Peter was approached by Cornelius’s messengers, asking him to come and talk to him.

So, when the Holy Spirit fell upon the Gentiles, Peter knew that God was calling them to join the Jesus followers. “What God has made clean, you must not call profane.”So, he invited them to be baptized.

Between these people and the Ethiopian official we read about last week, the Beloved Community was stretching beyond what the earliest Jesus followers imagined.

God’s imagination is so much bigger than ours.

It’s easy to get caught up in judging who is the right type of Christian. I’m as guilty of this as anyone else.

Among the 2.4 billion people who call themselves Christians in the world today, there is infinite variety. I’ve met people of other faiths and agnostics and atheists who seem to me to act more Christlike than some Christians.

And still, it’s not my place to judge that.

I’m not saying you have to put up with harmful words or behavior. But so often the world perceives Christians by what we’re against instead of what we’re for.

What if instead we were known for being strong in our convictions, and also humble enough to know that we’re probably wrong about some things?

What if we approached disagreements firm in what we believe and willing to curiously listen to others’ views, not rising to the bait of others’ anger and defensiveness?

What if we as Christians were known for our joy and love—which is what Jesus calls us to in our Gospel reading—instead of fear and anger?

It’s not easy: to be true to ourselves and open to people we think are wrong and even harmful. It involves a lot of self-reflection, time in prayer, and discernment of our boundaries. It might involve putting our reputations on the line or even being willing to lay down our lives for our friends.

But if the earliest Jesus followers were willing to admit that the Beloved Community included people they didn’t immediately see as part of the in-crowd, then maybe we can admit that God’s vision of the Beloved Community is far beyond what we imagine.

Jesuit priest Rick Ganz sent out a meditation this week on the hymn “There’s a Wideness in God’s Mercy” that speaks to this.

He writes,

“When mercy is something that we have, which is very often how we speak about it, then mercy will always be about how much we have, or ought to have. We imagine that “mercy” is a kind of thing - an amount of it - which we can distribute if we choose, which having used it (obviously on someone not deserving it) we can feel that we have given enough of it.

And now that we think about it, we begin to perceive that how much mercy we extend to a person is a calculation about how badly, or to what degree, he or she needs it. There is, then, hidden behind our understanding of mercy a confident judgment as to the degree of badness or wrongness of that person. Suddenly we are faced with a mercy – our amount of mercy – that is anything but wide. And suddenly the words of Jesus sting us; we feel their bite –

Matthew 7:  For as you judge, so will you be judged, and the measure with which you measure will be measured out to you.

In God mercy is Who God is; it is not something that God has. It is something essential to the personality of the Triune God, a mode by which we experience God’s love as unconditional.”

 

In our Gospel reading today, Jesus teaches us to mirror God’s love: “As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love.” Let’s also, to the limits of our finite, imperfect ability, try to mirror the wideness of God’s mercy also.

Our joy in God is complete when we love who God loves, and that’s everyone.