Monday, April 23, 2012

Peace be with you


 Peace be with you….and also with you.  Passing the peace sort of gets out of control in churches sometimes. It’s wonderful for extrovert belongers, but for those who’re not as “in”, it can be uncomfortable.  Like all blessings, there can never be enough of it.  But like all blessings, it must be meant, and often isn’t.  Sometimes it’s just a rote response.  

 That first time, 2000 years ago the story goes, in some mysterious but real way Jesus showed up and said, deeply, meaningfully, Peace be with you.  Exactly the right blessing for the occasion.

These disciples are understandably a bit uncertain, cynical maybe, certainly confused.  Thought they were seeing a ghost.  All the early gospel writers struggled to find words for what was happening in this thing called resurrection.  So I hear those friends in our story and other first hearers of the news, in that sarcastic or cynical tone of voice of today: Really? I mean, Really?

But Jesus counters that cynicism.   No, really.Touch me and see.  Maybe the writer wants us to know this was physically real, and maybe it was, but for me today its realness isn’t in its physicality….its in its vulnerability.  Touch me and see.

Let me tell you Jean’s story:
There is a very old black woman with dreadlocks, one tooth, and generally "scary looking" who shuffles around the Pines and is often found sitting on one of the benches. While dropping off the Pines' kids after their visit today, I happened to glance in my rear view mirror and saw her shuffling from the bus stop carrying several bags trying to make it to her apartment almost a block away. She moves about a foot a minute. There were several children heading towards her seeming to harass her. I immediately turned the car around and saw this sweet little girl, about 9 years old struggling to help carry her bags. Talk about Jesus in action!
The kids in the car thought we should go help, so we picked up the lady, as well as Ashley (the little girl)  and drove her home. They all helped carry her things up the stairs to her apartment. Sent chills up our spines. 
In some mysterious but real way, vulnerably Jesus comes.  Jean says that the children were Jesus in action.  In some mysterious but real way, Jesus shows up, and thank God for that!

But also Jesus was there as the vulnerable woman.  Touch me, let me into your car and your busy day….sometimes we’re so busy with how we’re involved we aren’t all that open to the vulnerable Jesus coming into our space.

In the hallways of nursing homes many spend hours aching to be touched by a loving hand.  A face lit up this week,and a heart touched, when I was at Wesley Gardens and spoke to a woman sitting slouched at the elevator door. She raised her gnarled old hand, and said bless you.  The lit up face was mine.

Touch can be good and bad, which is why its such a vulnerable thing….but at its best it can be the means by which the risen Christ shows up and says, Peace be with you….

The whole flow of this Bible story, of Jesus’ words in fact, begin with peace and end with witness.  I think we need peace within us and among us before we can be effective witnesses. Witnesses stand and say aloud what they have seen and heard, and what it has meant to them.  Those first witnesses to Jesus’  teaching & healing, his life and death, his resurrection and mysterious but real Presence, means we are here, doing the same thing, continuing the same story, finding our own place in that story of life.

 I read a story this week about a pastor having to be a witness in a nasty custody case where one of the couple completely denied what this pastor was saying.  She said, if I hadn’t felt centered in my soul, and at peace in this very troubled situation, I would have been more shaken that I was.
In some mysterious but real way, Jesus shows up…PBWY

She pointed out that she was glad she was just a witness, not the judge.  We are not in charge of what happens next.  It is our job just to tell the story as it is true for us….what WE know of Jesus standing among us offering peace…what WE know of being blessed, healed, nurtured, taught.

Each of us is somewhere on that continuum between peace and witness, moving back and forth, sometimes more needing a blessing of peace for a worried mind or a troubled soul, sometimes full of doubt and hoping someone will speak a word of witness and hope,
sometimes in between, needing a touch of that mysterious but real Jesus.

Each of us is also somewhere on that continuum between peace and witness in terms of giving, not receiving—at times offering a blessing of peace (children at end of day or SS)
Or holding a hand wrinkled by time and awaiting death—touch and see that mysterious but real Presence
Or boldly inviting someone to church, speaking out about an injustice, or praying with someone in need

Wherever we are, Jesus shows up.  Free.  But it costs.  It takes an open heart to receive a blessing.  It takes active hands to reach out and touch.   It takes an open mouth to witness, or speak a blessing.

I invite you to end this sermon with me, with a prayer for openness (Joyce Rupp)—if you are able, please stand; if not, you can do it seated right where you are: let us be in a spirit of prayer
 
Touch your fingertips to your forehead, repeat after me:
Open my mind to remember your Presence
Touch your fingertips to your mouth,
Open my mouth to speak your wisdom
Touch your fingertips to your heart,
Open my heart to extend your love
Hold your hands out open, palms up,
Open my hands to serve you generously
Open your arms wide,
Open my whole being to you.

And the people of God all said, Amen

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