Sermon on John 10:22-30

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

As usual, Jesus was indirect with his answer in our Gospel reading today.

His healings and teachings and miracles had been creating quite a stir, and his critics (the religious authorities, not “the Jews” in general—as always, Jesus and his disciples were Jewish among mostly other Jewish people)—his critics were demanding a clear answer: was he the Messiah or not?

But Jesus wasn’t falling into their trap. He basically told them that if they had been paying attention to what he had been doing—how he had been caring for people, showing mercy and compassion to the most vulnerable, sharing God’s abundance—then they would have their answer already.

Louis Armstrong was once asked to define the rhythm of swing music, and he replied, “If you have to ask, you’ll never know.”

Jesus was essentially saying the same thing about his identity: if you have to ask if Jesus is the Messiah, then you’ll never see that he was answering that question every day of his ministry. It, like swing music, was something to be experienced, not defined.

And since, presumably, followers of Jesus were listening in on this conversation, Jesus was assuring them that they didn’t have to worry. Jesus was the Good Shepherd—he knew their names, and they would never be taken away from him.

Jesus was simultaneously comforting his followers and convicting his critics.

Throughout this passage and the longer teaching it’s a part of, known as the Good Shepherd discourse, Jesus references Ezekiel 34, which contrasts the false shepherds who were doing a poor job of leading God’s people with God, the True Shepherd.

God, through Ezekiel, calls out the “shepherds of Israel” for indulging themselves at the expense of the people they’re supposed to be caring for, for ignoring the needs of the most vulnerable, and for letting the “sheep” be scattered instead oftending to them.

God instead promises to seek them out, feed them well, let them rest, bind up their injuries, and strengthen the weak.

So, when Jesus describes himself as the Good Shepherd, he’s making those promises to those who are listening, especially the most marginalized.

They can trust him to fulfill the promises God made to God’s people. Jesus calls them by name, and they can never be snatched from his hand.

It’s tempting to be cynical about those promises today. It’s poetic and all, but the practicality of it is hard to see.It’s nice to talk of being part of a flock, but that kind of belonging is hard to come by these days.

Our world is constantly changing.

Churches aren’t the community centers they were decades ago.

Neighbors don’t necessarily know each other.

Technology allows us to stay in touch with people far away more easily, but it’s not the same as a hug.

Many of us spend more and more time online, where deep, beautiful connections can be made and where we can also sometimes get a superficial sense of being connected to other people that doesn’t ultimately satisfy our human need for community.

It can be hard to feel like we belong anywhere.

It can be hard to read our Gospel today and feel like we’re part of God’s flock.

In our anxiety about our disconnection and the state of the world, sometimes we seek easy answers, like the religious leaders in our story. “Tell us plainly, Jesus: are you who you’re rumored to be?”

Or maybe, “tell me plainly, Jesus, am I who you say I am? Am I your sheep? Will you care for me too? Will you look for me when I feel lost? What about the people I care about? Are your promises for them too? Or will you leave them behind?”

If there are two things I’ve learned about being a person of faith, it’s to value good questions and to be suspicious of easy answers. And those are good and important questions.

And in our Gospel reading, Jesus turns his audience away from easy answers.

Instead, he points them toward his actions.“Actions speak louder than words,” so they say.If you’re wondering about Jesus’ promises about caring for his flock, look at his actions.

He healed the sick, brought peace to the suffering, fed the hungry, and brought dignity to the marginalized.

If you’re wondering who’s part of his flock, look at his actions.

He gathered all kinds of people—from hated tax collectors to isolated people with leprosy to foreigners to women and children and people with disabilities who were second class citizens to people with bad reputations to pretty much anyone you can imagine. If Jesus is the Good Shepherd, he’s got a big and eclectic flock to tend.

We also see the variety of that flock in our reading from Revelation today. In it, there’s a vision of “a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages” all gathered together in joy and celebration.

This multitude of people has “come through the great ordeal.” Since Revelation was written in a time of persecution of Jesus followers, this likely refers to people martyred for their beliefs.

And today, there’s warfare, violence, disease, oppression, malnutrition, poverty, hate crimes, natural disasters, and many other “great ordeals” that too many people made in the image of God are subjected to.

It’s so easy to ask why God lets these things happen, but instead of giving us an easy answer, God often turns the question back to us, asking why we let these things happen.

There are so many people who are doing good in this world, trying to make a difference, including this congregation, which feeds our neighbors week in and week out. And still, this world is not as it should be.

And God still promises to tend God’s flock. Revelation, in addition to giving us beautiful visions of the fulfillment of the Beloved Community, tells us this about those who have gone through the “great ordeal”:

“For this reason they are before the throne of God
  and worship him day and night within his temple,
  and the one who is seated on the throne will shelter them.
 They will hunger no more and thirst no more;
  the sun will not strike them,
  nor any scorching heat,
 for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd,
  and he will guide them to springs of the water of life,
 and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

May it be so for every single person made in the image of God, which is every single person.

We may not get the easy answers we want, and there’s plenty to be anxious about in our world, but when we look at Jesus’ life and the themes throughout scripture, we see that God’s flock is expansive and inclusive. We see that God cares deeply for the most marginalized and vulnerable in society and calls us to care too.

God calls each of us by name and those we care about and even those we might be bothered by or have a hard time with. We are all God’s children, part of God’s flock, living in God’s creation.

God cares about our world too—not an inch in all of creation is forgotten or unloved. Martin Luther wrote that “God writes the gospel not in the Bible alone, but also on the trees, and in the flowers and clouds and stars.” We can find the Good News of God’s Beloved Community in the natural world around us. We can see God’s care and abundance by looking at what God created and continues to nurture—it’s all around us.

God isn’t about easy answers, but we can look to Jesus’ actions and God’s handiwork in creation to find reassurance that God cares for us, tends us, and calls us by name.

As you go about your life loving your neighbors, neither you nor they will be snatched out of God’shand. We and all of creation are safe in the loving arms of our Good Shepherd forever.

Sermon on John 21:1-19

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

If you’ve ever felt like you’re not enough, you’re in good company.

The Bible’s full of people who didn’t seem to measure up:

·       Moses didn’t feel like he was a good enough speaker to confront Pharoah.

·       Hannah was mocked by her husband’s other wife for not meeting society’s expectations—in this case: having children.

·       David was the youngest, a shepherd boy among strong, impressive older brothers who would surely be better kings.

·       Mary was a no one from a backwater town in Roman Empire occupied territory—not a strong candidate for mother of God.

And then, we heard the stories of Saul and Peter today.

Saul was actively working to have Jesus followers arrested, imprisoned, and executed.Jesus chose to miraculously appear to Saul and commission him to not just stop killing Jesus followers, but to follow Jesus himself and invite others to do the same. Why would Jesus choose this guy with so much blood on his hands?

Then, there’s Peter who swore up and down that he would die for Jesus only to choose his own safety over being truthful about not only knowing Jesus but being his disciple and friend. He didn’t even stick around to be with Jesus in his final moments before death. So, even after Jesus’ resurrection, Peter decided the best thing to do was go back to what he knew. “I’m going fishing,” he said. Maybe that was his way of numbing the shame of all that had happened over the past couple weeks when he just hadn’t measured up to his brave promises.

And yet, we see in our Gospel reading that Jesus gave Peter the chance to try again. Instead of denying that he knew Jesus, Peter affirmed again and again that he not only knew him but loved him.

And Jesus not only forgave him but commissioned him to tend his flock in his physical absence. Why would Jesus give Peter a second chance when he saw that Peter reacted badly in a crisis?

And yet we read later that Saul (renamed Paul) and Peterboth had a huge impact on spreading the Beloved Community. They didn’t agree with each other a lot of the time, but it would be hard to overstate their impact on the early Jesus movement. It’s a good reminder that faithful people have disagreed with each other heatedly since the beginning of the Church and still have done good, important community building work.

Jesus came to both Paul and Peter, invited them to choose different behavior, and then sent them on the mission to nurture and to share the Good News of God’s Beloved Community.

They weren’t just offered forgiveness but given a mission.“Follow me,” Jesus told Peter.“Get up and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do,” Jesus told Paul.

Their stories didn’t end with seeing Jesus. Easter wasn’t an end but a beginning.

It’s a story God is still writing, and we’re characters in that story.

And we, like Moses and Hannah and David and Mary and Peter and Paul, can sometimes feel like we’re not enough or are told by society that we’re not enough.

We so often ignore God’s invitations in our lives, insisting we’re not worthy, there’s someone better out there, we’re too busy, we’re not equipped, we’re too (young, old, quiet, loud, or insert whatever quality or characteristic you’re self-conscious about).

So, we hide behind our familiar fishing nets, turning back to what we know, regardless of whether it’s the best thing for us right now or if it’s even harming us, keeping us from what God has imagined.

What are your fishing nets? What do you turn back to because it’s comfortable, instead of being willing to accept God’s invitation to something new, hard, or scary?

Again, you’re in good company.

And when Star Wars Day, May the Fourth, as in “May the Fourth be with you,” falls on a Sunday, I would have to turn in my nerd card if I didn’t work at least a small reference into my sermon. So here are two more examples of people giving up and turning back to what’s comfortable before accepting a new path.

In Episode IV: A New Hope, Han Solo is invited to join the rebels in a dangerous but noble mission against the Empire. But he declines, choosing to go back to his way of life as a smuggler.

And in Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back, Luke has gone to train in the use of the Force with Master Yoda, but he gets discouraged when Yoda has him go from levitating small rocks to lifting his entire ship out of the swamp. To his credit, he does attempt it, and the ship starts moving, but then it sinks back into the water. He slumps down next to Yoda and says, “I can’t; it’s too big.”

The task at hand often feels too big.The ship is too big to lift out of the swamp.The Imperial army is too big to defeat.

What can a smuggler or a farm boy do against Darth Vader, the Emperor, and the Imperial forces anyway?

What can a denying disciple or an executer of Jesus followers do to build the Beloved Community?

What can you or I do against all that’s wrong with this world?

The problems are too big.

But as Yoda tells Luke, “Size matters not.”

After overcoming his discouragement, Luke keeps training in the Force and becomes a hero of the Rebellion.

Han changes his mind and comes back at a pivotal moment, saving the day.

As big as the problems of this world feel, they’re not too big for God, and God chooses us to help make earth more as it is in heaven. We might not all be heroes like Luke and Han or great influencers of the Church like Peter and Paul, but God calls us too.

Jesus called Peter and Paul, and he calls you and me, even when we feel insufficient. Jesus knows our weaknesses, our backgrounds, and everything else that makes us feel unworthy, hypocritical, or like an imposter. And he calls us anyway.Jesus calls us to feed his lambs, tend his sheep, and follow him.

I’ve heard it said that humility isn’t thinking less of yourself but thinking of others more.Humility isn’t about being the best at beating ourselves up. It’s easier to set aside our insecurities when we’re focusing on others with love instead of dwelling on how we think we fall short.

And we’re going to fall short. We’re human beings, not God. And God knows that—God takes that into account when God calls us. We can’t be imposters with God, because God knows everything about us—more than we know ourselves. And God calls us anyway.

As we continue our mission to be the church that feeds people body and soul, remember what Yoda said, “Do or do not. There is no try.”

Let’s feed God’s sheep together.

Sermon on John 20:19-31

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

Thomas has long been one of my favorite biblical characters. He gets such a bad rap for being “Doubting Thomas,” but really, he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. He happened to be out when Jesus appeared to the other disciples and showed them his hands and his side.

Poor Thomas just wanted what the other disciples had been given: the physical presence of the risen, wounded Jesus. He wanted the physicality of touch and the confirmation of sight just like Jesus had given to his friends. And once he had that, he gives one of the clearest declarations of Jesus’ identity in the Gospels: “My Lord and my God!” By the end of the story, Thomas should be called Trusting Thomas.

Sure, Jesus followed up his visit to Thomas by saying, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” But I don’t see this as Jesus scolding Thomas.

If this were a movie, I imagine Jesus would look right at the camera while saying that line.

This isn’t about Thomas—it’s about the followers of Jesus who would come after him throughout the centuries, including us.

Remember: Jesus didn’t have one of his disciples transcribing all of his teachings or writing firsthand accounts of his miracles day by day as they happened.

The stories of Jesus spread by word of mouth. People shared their experiences of Jesus with their families and neighbors. That’s how information was shared. Many people weren’t literate. Writing materials were expensive. And importantly, people thought Jesus was going to return right away—like any day now. They didn’t consider that they might need to record these stories for future generations. They were able to share them with each other in person.

So, you see throughout the book of Acts for example that Jesus followers told their stories wherever they went, including as we see in our reading from Acts today: in court. They wouldn’t stop sharing what they had seen and heard.

That worked great until the first disciples started dying. Suddenly, they realized they did needto start writing these stories down so they wouldn’t lose them.

So, they did. We have in our Bible the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, and there were many others that were written later or considered not as authoritative but can still be interesting.

People started writing down the stories of Jesus, and thank goodness they did, because that’s nowthe primary way we get to know who Jesus is.

This explains why we have verses 30 and 31 in the Gospel of John: “Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples that are not written in this book. But these are written so that you may continue to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.”

Our ancestors in faith wrote down these stories for us so that we could be those who have not seen and are blessed because we have come to believe. And remember that the word “believe” means something closer to “trust.” We trust in Jesus—it’s not about simply agreeing with something in our minds.

People wrote down the stories about Jesus so that we could trust in Jesus without having met him in the flesh the way they had.

And still, God knows we need physical things to connect with God. We need the water of baptism to remember that we are part of God’s family. We need the bread and the wine to trust that Jesus is with us and that we are his body in the world. We see God’s love in our neighbors’ eyes. We experience God’s love for us in the beauty of God’s creation lovingly crafted for us.

And that gets harder as we become less and less connected to creation.

Many of us spend more and more time indoors with air conditioning and central heating and electric light whenever we want it. Our waking hours aren’t dictated by the sun. The seasons don’t have to affect us unless we brave the beach or take a walk outside.

We’re largely disconnected from where our food comes from. Even though we’re fortunate enough to live in a state where so much food is grown, we can still get blueberries from Peru or avocados from Mexico year-round. What we cook isn’t dictated by the produce that’s in season. And I would probably become vegetarian pretty fast if I had to slaughter my own chickens and other meat.

In our modern, suburban lifestyle, we can easily become disconnected from creation. That can lead us to miss out on some opportunities to notice God in our daily lives.

It may be that blessed are those who believe without seeing, but like Thomas, I have a much easier time connecting to God through the material—through the crashing of waves or the juiciness of a freshly picked tomato or the hot breath of an excited dog. We are Earth creatures. God created this world to walk around it with our ancestors Adam and Eve. And we miss so many opportunities to connect with God in that way.

And the human impact on the environment is devastating.I’m sure you’ve all seen pictures of oil spills and sea creatures wrapped in bits of plastic and vast, smoldering, deforested wastelands.You’re all as capable as I am of Googling climate change.

It doesn’t take much to get disheartened by the state of our planet—what should be a lush green and blue orb—entrusted to us by God to steward and nurture.

And still, there are people who care. This past Tuesday was the 55th Earth Day. People around the world took part in Earth Day actions and activities—the map on earthday.org was filled with hundreds and hundreds of events worldwide. Locally, there were beach clean-ups, educational events for kids, recycling events, protests, nature walks, and more. People do care about the environment and want to take action.

And though humans have taken a poor interpretationof Genesis 1:28 that we should “subdue” the earth and “have dominion over” it to extremes, there are people in the Christian tradition who advocate for creation care.

One is Pope Francis, who sadly died last Monday. He released an encyclical letter in 2015 entitled “Laudato Si – on care for our common home.” In it, he wrote a beautiful call for unity and action in tending to our earthly home.The document spans pollution, climate change, economic inequity, our duty to future generations, the dialogue between religion and science, civic and political love, and numerous other topics.

In his words: “the urgent challenge to protect our common home includes a concern to bring the whole human family together to seek a sustainable and integral development, for we know that things can change. The Creator does not abandon us; he never forsakes his loving plan or repents of having created us. Humanity still has the ability to work together in building our common home.”

Few people have as much global attention and authority as the Pope, and it can seem like each of us as individuals can hardly make a difference. But small individual actions and partnerships and community building can add up to big changes.

And of course, things that are impossible for humanity are possible for God.

Our Jesus, who appeared in a locked room to reassure his fearful disciples, is present with us too. Our Wounded Healer can use us, flawed instruments that we are, to help heal the hurting world.

We can’t do this alone, so when you get to the point of losing hope or giving in to despair, turn toward your neighbors, your siblings in Christ here at church and beyond, your siblings of other faiths and community-minded people of no particular faith. Remember that there are people who care, who want change, who are speaking out.

Ground yourself in nature however you can: by touching grass, by admiring a bird, by feeling the sun on your skin.

Remember Who made your good body that dwells on this good Earth. Remember Who broke the power of death to reconcile Creation to Godself.

You are not alone, and God will one day make all things right. As we continue to wait for that day, do what you can, encourage each other, and give thanks for the home God has given us.

Let us pray this “prayer for our earth” that closes Pope Francis’s Laudato Si:

A prayer for our earth

All-powerful God, you are present in the whole universe
and in the smallest of your creatures.
You embrace with your tenderness all that exists.
Pour out upon us the power of your love,
that we may protect life and beauty.
Fill us with peace, that we may live
as brothers and sisters, harming no one.
O God of the poor,
help us to rescue the abandoned and forgotten of this earth,
so precious in your eyes.
Bring healing to our lives,
that we may protect the world and not prey on it,
that we may sow beauty, not pollution and destruction.
Touch the hearts
of those who look only for gain
at the expense of the poor and the earth.
Teach us to discover the worth of each thing,
to be filled with awe and contemplation,
to recognize that we are profoundly united
with every creature
as we journey towards your infinite light.
We thank you for being with us each day.
Encourage us, we pray, in our struggle
for justice, love and peace. Amen.