God help the outcasts hungry from birth; show them the mercy they don't find on earth. The lost and forgotten they look to You still, God help the outcasts or nobody will. I ask for nothing, I can get by; but I know so many less lucky than I. God help the outcasts the poor and down trod, I thought we all were the children of God.
                                  - Alan Menken & Stephen Schwartz    



Reading: 
Thus says the LORD: Maintain justice, and do what is right, for soon my salvation will come, and my deliverance be revealed. And the foreigners who join themselves to the LORD, to minister to him, to love the name of the LORD, and to be his servants, all who keep the sabbath, and do not profane it, and hold fast my covenant-- these I will bring to my holy mountain, and make them joyful in my house of prayer; their burnt offerings and their sacrifices will be accepted on my altar; for my house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples. Thus says the Lord GOD, who gathers the outcasts of Israel, I will gather others to them besides those already gathered.
                                              - Isaiah 56.1, 6-8    


Reflection:
Some two years after I defended my doctoral dissertation – just when I had begun to forget the agony of the experience and recover from the intellectual aches and pains inevitably identified with graduate study – some two years after I defended my dissertation, I learned that I had gone about it the wrong way! Oh brother! I learned that I had martyred myself beneath a heavy weight of research and writing, when the central question I posed comes with a ready made, simple answer. Jeez! Say it ain’t so.

Long story short, in my dissertation I compared the notion of salvation in the Bhagavad Gita and the Gospel of John. When I presented a paper at a professional conference two years later, a prim and proper New Testament professor informed me that the entire edifice of my work was bogus, because the Greek notion of salvation that underlies John is absent from the Gita, as is the reality of salvation itself. Wow! I explained that I had used the word salvation in my title in a general sense; as shorthand for the ultimate fulfillment of life, but since the title was already too long (you don’t even wanna know), I used the word salvation.

Upon reflection, however, I realized that my colleague had gone way beyond semantics (she probably knew the Gita is in Sanskrit) and had submitted the Gita and the faith tradition it represents to a litmus test determined by Christian doctrine… and found it wanting. I realized that she had oversimplified a complex and nuanced notion – life’s fulfillment – and managed to dismiss one of the great spiritual traditions of human history at the same time.

I share this story because it occurs to me that we are all in the habit of seeking the simplest possible answers to life’s questions – a habit illustrated so very well by my colleague - and inevitably finding that the correct answer is simple… and it’s my answer. For example, ask most any Christian what salvation means, and she or he is likely to say something like, “Going to heaven when I die.” Now, I won’t argue with that; shoot, I am really looking forward to the fulfillment of my life in union with God. I would quickly add, however, that salvation is so much more than ultimate destiny, and that it refers to God in the present tense at least as much as in the future sense; God as present reality, not just future savior. I would contend that God has our back, and this frees us to explore and enjoy the present reality of that which we call salvation.

And it ain’t just about me and Jesus either. Salvation is given expression – I would say reality – in compassion; in reaching out to others in need; to other children of God who could use a little salvation. Otherwise stated, God is saving us (present progressive tense) through the very act of reaching out to and accepting others. I’m not advocating some form of salvation through works, but I am saying in no uncertain terms that we are all in this together; that salvation is lived out in compassionate relationships.

Isaiah glimpsed something of this. Notice how the notion of deliverance, of God’s salvation, is revealed in this passage as embracing others – the foreigner (read non-Christian) and outcasts - accepting and affirming them as God’s other children. All of these will be invited to God’s holy mountain, and to God’s house of joy that shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples.

Wow! What a wonderfully rich and nuanced notion is this thing we call salvation. And we haven’t even gotten to the Gita. Don’t worry; I’m not going there. But I will go so far as to propose that we share the prayer of Esmeralda in the Disney animated version of The Hunchback of Notre Dame, that God will help the outcasts, the lost and forgotten who look to God for compassion. Because if God doesn’t help them, she says, nobody will. To which I respond, “Is nobody home?” 

We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.
                      - T. S. Eliot



READING:
“Don’t be troubled. Trust in God. Trust also in me. My Father’s house has room to spare. If that weren’t the case, would I have told you that I’m going to prepare a place for you? When I go to prepare a place for you, I will return and take you to be with me so that where I am you will be too. You know the way to the place I’m going.” Thomas asked, “Lord, we don’t know where you are going. How can we know the way?” Jesus answered, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you have really known me, you will also know the Father. From now on you know him and have seen him.” Philip said, “Lord, show us the Father; that will be enough for us.” Jesus replied, “Don’t you know me, Philip, even after I have been with you all this time? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? Don’t you believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words I have spoken to you I don’t speak on my own. The Father who dwells in me does his works. Trust me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father is in me, or at least believe on account of the works themselves. I assure you that whoever believes in me will do the works that I do. They will do even greater works than these because I am going to the Father. I will do whatever you ask for in my name, so that the Father can be glorified in the Son. When you ask me for anything in my name, I will do it.
                - John 14.1-14 (Common English Bible) 


REFLECTION: 
I adore the words of T. S. Eliot cited above in which life – and all its pursuits – is portrayed in broad strokes as a journey of discovery whose end offers a new vision, a fresh perspective, a more profound understanding of the life we thought we knew so well. When and if we finally make our way home, we find it both strange and familiar; as if we are seeing it – truly seeing it - for the first time.

I wish we students of the Christian bible would take this wisdom to heart, and approach our studies as a journey of discovery in which we dare delve beneath the surface of the texts to the wonder, mystery, profundity, and challenge that reside within. I wish we would just own up to the fact that we never exhaust their meaning; and that there is always more to discover. More often than not this fresh perspective challenges our smugly held beliefs about the meaning of a passage of scripture, and how it informs our faith.

I’ve been thinking in this vein all week, because the gospel reading for Sunday is John 14.1-14; and I don’t want to preach from John 14. I don’t want to preach from this passage because of the many ways its meaning has been coopted, misused, even abused for the sake of supporting a cherished belief, or from the unwillingness to look beyond a traditional reading of the text.

And, let me tell you, several aspects of this passage have been misrepresented and misused. The first section about the troubled heart has been used so often at funerals that we think of it in a morbid sense as a reference to a smattering of comfort during a period of mourning. Released from this mindset, the passage offers a vivid, expansive hope of life lived in fullness both now and into the future. No modicum of comfort is offered in this passage; but rather a bold affirmation of fullness, meaning, and joy! Too often this is overlooked, and this passage becomes to funerals what Paul Stookey’s Wedding Song (a.k.a. There Is Love) is to weddings; bland, boring, and played on the wrong instrument altogether.

Would that this was the worst abuse this passage has seen. This oversight pales in comparison to the rigid, absolutist claims that have been made about Jesus’ self-proclamation as way, truth, and life. The profundity and subtlety of John’s message here is oversimplified, suppressed, or missed altogether so that the passage can be used to support a flat-out condemnation of a big chunk of the world God loves so much (at least according to Jesus). Isn’t it possible that life in its fullness is about something more than a statement of belief about Jesus? Is it inconceivable that God’s grace and compassion have just a bit more wiggle room than this reading allows?

Jesus as the way is an affirmation to be lived out in our life. Jesus as the way is a Jesus to be followed, not simply affirmed as an article of belief. This is underscored by the reference later in the passage to the disciples of Jesus doing the same works – even greater – as Jesus. And folks, this work is not that of a creedal statement. This work, exemplified throughout the life and ministry of Jesus, is an overflowing of compassion and grace; a refusal to allow any individual to go unrecognized and unvalued (like the Samaritan woman); the courage to stand for and with the marginalized and oppressed; and the will to let the love of God flow through us into the world.

Wow! I think I see something new here; or at least a profundity I have missed before. Perhaps there is more depth to be plumbed; perhaps this passage can inform our life of faith in new and powerful ways. I invite you to explore this possibility with me in worship on Sunday. 

How long will grown men and women in this world keep drawing in their coloring books an image of God that makes them sad?                                                                                
                             - Meister Eckhart 


Reading:
“Let me set this before you as plainly as I can. If a person climbs over or through the fence of a sheep pen instead of going through the gate, you know he’s up to no good—a sheep rustler! The shepherd walks right up to the gate. The gatekeeper opens the gate to him and the sheep recognize his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he gets them all out, he leads them and they follow because they are familiar with his voice. They won’t follow a stranger’s voice but will scatter because they aren’t used to the sound of it.” Jesus told this simple story, but they had no idea what he was talking about. So he tried again. “I’ll be explicit, then. I am the Gate for the sheep. All those others are up to no good—sheep stealers, every one of them. But the sheep didn’t listen to them. I am the Gate. Anyone who goes through me will be cared for—will freely go in and out, and find pasture. A thief is only there to steal and kill and destroy. I came so they can have real and eternal life, more and better life than they ever dreamed of. “I am the Good Shepherd. The Good Shepherd puts the sheep before himself, sacrifices himself if necessary. A hired man is not a real shepherd. The sheep mean nothing to him. He sees a wolf come and runs for it, leaving the sheep to be ravaged and scattered by the wolf. He’s only in it for the money. The sheep don’t matter to him. “I am the Good Shepherd.”
                                   - John 10.1-14a (The Message)


Reflection:
When I was in graduate school, Dominic Crossan delivered a lecture series on the parables of Jesus at my university. His work on the parables is first rate, top drawer, and comes highly recommended. And this lecture series was no different. An exchange during this series made a lasting impression on my spirit, and has stuck with me for years. In one lecture Professor Crossan discussed the various ways that Jesus’ parables can confuse and call into question our long cherished ideas, thus allowing new meanings to take their place. And they can do this again and again. One pastor in the audience was scandalized by the very thought that the parables refuse to be reduced to one and only one meaning now-and-forever-more-amen. They can continue to interact with our spirit – and mess with our confident knowledge – and introduce new, profound notions that enrich our understanding and our faith if we will simply allow it.

This passage from chapter 10 is as close as John comes to a parable. Even though it focuses on Jesus rather than the Reign of God (as in the synoptic gospels: Matthew, Mark, and Luke), it shares some of the characteristics that make Jesus’ parables so enigmatic, profound, and a fertile ground for new meaning. Specifically, this narrative identifies Jesus as both the gate through which the sheep enter, and the good shepherd that cares for and protects the sheep. This ambiguity tends to throw us off balance - we are much like the scandalized pastor, and want one, clear identification and one definitive meaning - and in this way create an opening for new, more profound meaning.

Jesus as shepherd… well, we know just how to make this image boring and mundane. This Jesus is harmless, gentle and oh so sentimental and, to be honest, would fit best in a velvet painting (much like the ones that depict Elvis’ blue swede shoes). Forget the fact that this shepherd cares passionately for the sheep, and protects them even if self-sacrifice is involved. There is nothing sentimental about this shepherd.

Jesus as sheep gate blows sentimentality out of the water. Get past the double image of Jesus and the confusion it causes, and what appears is the notion that Jesus is not only the shepherd that protects us, but is as well the protection itself. Think about that… the shepherd who protects is identical with the One from whom all things come – our creator God – and the unique, reliable source of protection .

This shepherd, this Jesus can be trusted absolutely with all we are and all we have. This Jesus would never abandon or inflict pain into our life. This Jesus cannot be painted in sad, somber colors, and depicted as an ill-tempered judge (and jury!). This Jesus can only be painted in vibrant, rich colors that reflect fulfillment, peace and joy. Need I say more? Perhaps… perhaps we should pray:

“We’re ready God… ready to worship. We’ve all brought along our coloring book; that palette nestled deeply in our heart on which we draw your image. We rarely show this sketch to others, because we’re not sure what colors to use, or what name to choose as a title. We can easily see you in dark, somber colors. Such images are as varied as they are numerous, yet they reveal a common thread of distant, brooding authority, hungry for adulation and ready to pass judgment. Then that weaver of tales comes along and draws a shepherd in simple, gentle words; a guardian strong yet loving, firm yet protective, always given to laughter and joyful exuberance. Such a one is beyond our ability to draw. The colors required surpass our wildest imaginings in their brilliance and beauty. And the names…. the names are as numerous as the stars, as deep as love, as broad as compassion. Draw this image in our heart, O God, so that we may draw near to you, and find in you all that we need…”

From the village of Bethany to the city of Jerusalem was scarcely half an hour’s walk. Moving from the village and across the Mount of Olives, a twist in the road revealed as if by magic a panoramic view of the holy city… All along the valley and all across the lower slope of Mount Olivet stirred the masses of pilgrims who had come for the Passover festival.
                                                                         - Shusako Endo 

READING: John 12.1-19 (CEB)
Six days before Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, home of Lazarus, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. Lazarus and his sisters hosted a dinner for him. Martha served and Lazarus was among those who joined him at the table. Then Mary took an extraordinary amount, almost three-quarters of a pound, of very expensive perfume made of pure nard. She anointed Jesus’ feet with it, then wiped his feet dry with her hair. The house was filled with the aroma of the perfume. Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), complained, “This perfume was worth a year’s wages! Why wasn’t it sold and the money given to the poor?” ( He said this not because he cared about the poor but because he was a thief. He carried the money bag and would take what was in it.) Then Jesus said, “Leave her alone. This perfume was to be used in preparation for my burial, and this is how she has used it. You will always have the poor among you, but you won’t always have me.” Many Jews learned that he was there. They came not only because of Jesus but also to see Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. The chief priests decided that they would kill Lazarus too. It was because of Lazarus that many of the Jews had deserted them and come to believe in Jesus. The next day the great crowd that had come for the festival heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem. They took palm branches and went out to meet him. They shouted, “Hosanna!
Blessings on the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessings on the king of Israel!” Jesus found a young donkey and sat on it, just as it is written, Don’t be afraid, Daughter Zion.
 Look! Your king is coming,
 sitting on a donkey’s colt. His disciples didn’t understand these things at first. After he was glorified, they remembered that these things had been written about him and that they had done these things to him. The crowd who had been with him when he called Lazarus out of the tomb and raised him from the dead were testifying about him. That’s why the crowd came to meet him, because they had heard about this miraculous sign that he had done. Therefore, the Pharisees said to each other, “See! You’ve accomplished nothing! Look! The whole world is following him!”

REFLECTION
We who are called to proclaim God’s Good News week after week, year after year, too often pride ourselves on our ability to deliver the right word on each and every occasion. In rare moments of humility and candor, however, those with mettle readily admit the inability to express in words the heart of the Easter experience. At this high holy time, we tend to step aside and let the story tell itself, while we simply give ourselves to its passion and its promise. This Easter will be no exception. Thus, in lieu of offering my take on the Easter story, I offer a prayer for Palm Sunday and the week that follows. May it bring you to Life, Light, and Joy!

God of all times and journeys; it’s been a long stretch on lonely, dusty roads – this pilgrimage we call Lent - but we’ve finally made it. Jerusalem! The Holy City! The gates have been thrown open wide, and we have witnessed the king of glory enter to the clamor of the crowds and shouts of alleluia! Hope has surely arrived! To be sure, we don’t understand this ‘donkey’ thing. Why not the royal steed our king so richly deserves? And we choose to overlook the reference to a prince of peace wielding no sword; that surely is an oversight. Or is it? Even as we revel in victory, storm clouds appear on the horizon; an omen of dark things to come. God, we are conflicted and confused about how this week will unfold: will it bring light or darkness? Victory or defeat? Life or death?

It’s been a long stretch on lonely, dusty roads – this pilgrimage we call Lent – yet it pales in comparison to the journey from Palm to Passion; from Triumphal Entry to Empty Tomb. Nevertheless, we must stay the course, because “The only road to Easter morning is through the unrelenting shadows of that Friday, only then will the alleluias be sung; only then will the dancing begin.” (Ann Weems, from Holy Week)

God, we will hold on to the excitement of this glorious day – Palm Sunday – and pray that you will hold us close through this Holy Week, illumine our path, and reveal to us at its end the mystery that lies beyond the reach of darkness and death; the resurrection to Life and Light. Amen.