We are the open doors: March 3, 2024

 Year B, Lent 3                         John 2:13-22                                                         

          When I walked into this church for the first time, it took my breath away. It was a beautiful day and the sun was streaming through the windows lighting up everything within. It glowed. My last church was lovely and sacred, but it was dark. Most churches are because so many are made of dark wood and gray stones.  They are adorned with stained glass windows that allow very little light in.  But Christ Church is bright and warm.  When I saw those glass doors, it felt welcoming, like a church that was perpetually open.  Of course it’s not just the light that makes this church beautiful. It’s the Palladian window, the fluted columns and of course, the wineglass pulpit.  The building draws many people in. I had never met so many architects until I became the rector of Christ Church.  Now they are everywhere! All that said, the most beautiful part of this church is the people within.

            There is nothing wrong with having pride in one’s church. This church took over 20 years to be built in the 1700s and has required years and years of work since.  Churches and places of worship of this scale take time to build. It’s not surprising to hear that the temple in Jerusalem took over 46 years to build and when this gospel reading took place, it wasn’t even finished.  It’s understandable that the religious authorities had a lot of pride in the temple. 

Jesus wasn’t a fan of religious pride, or really any kind of pride. This Gospel story is one that surprises people.  It does not fit into the image that people have of Jesus.  People picture Jesus with a lamb over his shoulders and children on his lap.  They imagine him teaching and healing.  They don’t usually picture him with a whip driving animals and people out of a temple while overturning tables.  This is not the peace loving Jesus who we imagine in our heads.  Yet it was clearly an important event in the life of Jesus because all four Gospel writers recorded it. 

What was it that got Jesus all riled up?  There are a lot of theories about that.  Since he said, “Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace!” some people have assumed that he was angry about the fact that people were selling animals in the temple.  This is possible but unlikely.  Selling animals was a necessary part of the temple system.  People were supposed to make sacrifices and most people did not travel with sacrificial animals.  So it made sense to sell the animals at the temple.

Others have said that Jesus was not upset that these animals were being sold, but that they were being sold at an unfair price.  The sellers were taking advantage of people and profiting from these sacrifices that were meant for God alone.   This makes more sense in light of Matthew, Mark and Luke.  In those three Gospels, Jesus tells the people that they have made his father’s house a den of robbers.  But he does not say that in John’s Gospel.  He just tells them to stop making his father’s house a marketplace. 

           I wonder if what he really meant was that they were making the temple a market place for God.  It was as if they were implying that they had exclusive rights to God…that people could only be in God’s presence when they were in the temple.  This was especially a concern in a time when there were many people who were ostracized from the temple.  Not just anyone could go in the temple, which meant that God’s love was limited. Jesus knew that this was not the case.  He knew that God was everywhere, present at all times.  Jesus also knew that his life, death, and resurrection would transform how and where people perceived God.   He wanted to introduce that change now while he was still living. 

          The people who had the power in the temple were angry that Jesus thought he had any right to call this holy temple his father’s house.  So they asked him for a sign…presumably a sign of his power.  His response was even more troublesome.  He said, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.”  They were astounded. The temple that he was standing in had already been under construction for 46 years and it wasn’t even finished yet.  And this carpenter was going to destroy it and build a new one in 3 days?  But Jesus was not talking about a temple made of bricks and mortar.  He was talking about his body.  His body was where God dwelled.  And his body would be destroyed in the crucifixion, but in three days in would be resurrected.

Jesus was not saying that God was not present in the temple anymore.  I want to be very clear on that.  He was at the temple to worship. Jesus regularly went to temple because he was a devout Jew. He was saying that God was not limited to the temple and no human institution has control over God’s presence.  No person or religious body can say that some people have access to God and some people don’t.   That is what got Jesus all riled up.  People weren’t just trying to control money and power; they were trying to control God.  They were trying to limit who had access to God.

          It would be easy to read this and feel a little superior. We don’t restrict who comes in our church. We welcome everyone.  Right?  And we do, but there are small ways that we limit access to our church.  For instance, you have to be literate to follow our leaflet.  If you are not very familiar with the English language, you probably won’t be comfortable in most Episcopal Churches.  While past church experience is by no means required, it’s helpful to understand the basics before participating in our worship, so you don’t get too confused.  These things aren’t unique to Christ Church. Almost every Episcopal Church has these same barriers to entry.   We can do small things to make ourselves more open and welcoming, but the Episcopal Church is structured in a way that makes it impossible for us to judge other churches/places of worship we perceive as less than hospitable.

The other barrier to entry is the perception of organized religion.  While our building seems an asset to many, others might find it intimidating, especially if they have negative associations with church.  I can’t tell you how many people have told me over the years that they are afraid if they walk into a church, lightning will strike.  One person told me he was only coming back to church in a casket and that turned out to be true.  Does this mean we should abandon these beautiful buildings that were built for the purpose of worshipping God? Of course not. But it does mean that we have to find other ways to connect with people who might never come into our building. 

I know that one of the reasons that we have these glass doors is so that we can demonstrate authentic welcome on Sunday mornings.  The first time I saw those glass doors on a Sunday morning, I felt that. But given the way our world now views religion, we need more than open doors and open windows.  For many unchurched people, it’s not the structure that will welcome them, it’s us, the people of God and the people of the church that are the open doors and open windows.  We are the connection between the church and the community.  We can be those points of connection by sharing our faith, a faith that emphasizes the abundant love and grace of Jesus Christ.

How do we do this? For one, we can be better about talking about our faith…not to convert them, just so people can see that Christians are good and loving people.  We can’t keep letting the loudest Christians have the monopoly on people’s perception of the Christian faith.  We are people they know and like.  We are more than what they see and hear on the news. We can invite them to events outside of Sunday morning worship that might be less intimidating, which means we need more of those events.  We can emphasize outreach and fellowship, or bring our worship into our beautiful garden because for some reason that is less intimidating to others. 

I will never cease to love this building and what it represents, but we can’t let the building confine our God. God’s love is way too big for that. We, the members of Christ Church are the vessels of Gods overflowing love.  Not only that, but we too are temples of the Holy Spirit.  God dwells in us and there is no wall that can confine the Spirit that dwells in us.

 

How God Changes: March 3, 2024

Genesis 9:8-17                                                Year B, Lent 3

            The story of Noah, the ark, and the rainbow is immensely popular, especially with children.  Thus, it has come up in numerous conversations with my son.  At first, we were just getting the basic story across---but being someone whose job it is to overthink the Bible, I have always been kind of uncomfortable with the children’s bible version of the story. It glosses over the reason for the flood and the destruction it created.  I realize that doesn’t belong in a children’s Bible, but I have always wondered how you transition from the children’s version, to the real version…without just confusing and disturbing kids.   Recently my son asked me why more animals weren’t saved.  It’s rare when I have a clear answer for one of his Bible questions and here there was a clear answer—which was that the ark had limited space.  That made perfect sense to him.  But because I am an Episcopal priest, I had to add, “You know the really confusing thing about the story, why God sent the flood in the first place.”  Joshua was unwilling to engage on this theological topic and he was wise to do so. 

            Two chapters before our reading for today, we read exactly why God decided to send a flood that destroyed the world and killed everyone except one family. ^“The Lord saw that the wickedness of humankind was great in the earth, and that every inclination of the thoughts of their hearts was only evil continually. And the Lord was sorry that he had made humankind on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart.”  The reading isn’t confusing because God isn’t clear.  In fact, this is one of those times when God is clearer than we would like God to be.  The problem is that it doesn’t fit with our image of a loving God.  Just the idea that God would regret creating us is almost unfathomable.

Some people choose to deal with this paradoxical view of God by dividing God into the God of the Old Testament and the God of the New Testament.  And while I hate to cause unnecessary consternation, I have to tell you, it’s the same God.  We don’t get a new God between the end of the Old Testament and the beginning of the New Testament. It’s the very same God throughout the Bible.

            However, that doesn’t mean that God doesn’t change.  There are a lot of people who think that God has never changed—that God cannot change.  Their argument would be that if we believe in a God who is perfect, how could God change? Why would God change? But the story of the flood and the promise that God made after the flood is a clear example of how God has evolved and how God’s relationship with humanity can and does change for the better. 

Often, we look at the story of the flood and think, “Ok, God was clearly very frustrated.  He tried something.  He got it out of his system, and promised to never do it again. Let’s talk about the rainbow now.” It’s tempting to gloss over the hard things, not just with the Bible, but in all kind of different ways.  One thing that is helpful to keep in mind is that this was very early on in God’s relationship with humanity.  The flood story starts in chapter 6 of Genesis---the very first book of the Bible. At this point we have had the story of creation, Adam and Eve and their disobedience and then the very first murder—Adam and Eve’s son (Cain ) killed his brother Abel.  After that Cain is cursed and then in chapter 5 we have the list all of the descendants of Adam.  At this point God’s experience with humanity is limited, and not that great. The next thing we know, God has decided that the earth is cursed and filled with violence and he decides to wipe the whole thing out.  Fortunately one person found favor with God. That one person, Noah, became the opportunity for a new beginning. 

God decided to forge this partnership with a human, allow that human to save representatives of the human race as well as animals of every kind.  God knew that there was something/someone worth saving.  After the flood, and this is where we are today, God promises never to do it again—God will never destroy the world with a flood again.  God even created a sign to help God remember—a rainbow.  That rainbow would not only remind God, but all humanity of God’s love and commitment to the people he created.

The question is why—what changed God’s mind.  Did God realize that humans were inherently good? Did humans improve their behavior. No, in fact, right before he made the covenant with Noah and his family, God said that the inclination of the human heart is evil from youth.  Humans were no less sinful than they were before the flood.  Humanity didn’t change.  God’s relationship with humanity changed. God decided that this was not the way to deal with humanity.  Instead, God would restrain Godself and change his behavior.

Could God continue as a God of justice, punishing the wicked and wiping out the earth every time the world turned violent? Sure, God could absolutely do that. Instead God decided to find a new way to deal with sin and evil, because he saw that this kind of justice wasn’t effective.  It didn’t change people’s hearts.  It didn’t make people good or more loving. Instead God decided to create a relationship with humans and redeem the world from within rather than punish from above and beyond.

God made this choice even though he knew that it would mean more pain for him.   When God first observed the violence of his people, right before he laid out his plan for the flood, it says that the evil of humankind grieved his heart. God knew that in deciding to be in relationship with the people of the world, that meant that God would have to open his heart to a world of grief…for eternity.  Yet this is what God accepted.  God chose love and compassion even though it would bring him ever ending grief.

Now this didn’t mean that God never reacted violently again.  This doesn’t mean that human’s never suffered again.  What it meant is that God never cut himself off from humanity, no matter how much it hurt the heart of God. God never gave up on humans….even, even when we give up on him.

Back in the early days of facebook, people would post their relationship status and one of the options was, “it’s complicated.”  Sometimes I think that’s how I would describe the relationship between God and humanity. It’s complicated. Yes, I believe in a God of unconditional love and compassion, but I also believe that God’s justice can sometimes see harsh when I read the stories in the Bible.  Sometimes that feels contradictory to me.  Yet God is consistent in what angers him.  Why did he say humans were evil at the time of Noah? Violence.  Why did he condemn the people of Ninevah? Violence.  Why was Sodom and Gomorah (one of the most misunderstood stories in the Bible) destroyed? Violence. Certainly God got angry about other things.  Idolatry always ticked him off, but God really could not stand it when people hurt other people. It grieved his heart and it still does. 

God’s relationship with humanity continued to evolve, never more so than when he sent Jesus to the earth. That was when God took his heart and opened it wider. He cracked it wide open. Yes, God was already in relationship with humans.  He loved humans.  But becoming human…that changed everything.  That is when God learned what it was to be truly vulnerable, to feel pain, loneliness and sadness.  God became a human so he could truly be in relationship with humans. 

One of the things that Lent calls us to do is look at our relationship with God and consider changing something so that we can be in a closer to God.  Yet, I think that scares us and we often avoid that opportunity Lent gives us.  Many of us have the same relationship with God now, that we had has children.  God has spent all of human existence evolving and finding ways to be closer to us. Lent is 6 weeks long.  Maybe, just maybe if God can spend an eternity changing, we can take this 6 weeks, to change one small thing, to remove one barrier between us and God. If God can change—can’t we?

March 8, 2015: John 2:13-22

When Ruins Become Resurrection

Year B, Lent 3                                                       

            When I was first ordained, I never imagined that I would serve at a historic parish.  I am still not sure that I am called to serve at historic parishes in general as much as I am called to St. John’s specifically.  What I found most appealing about St. John’s was their story of continual rebuilding.  This site we are on now is the 4^th site of this church.  We have been on this site since 1728 and this building has been though three wars.  It has been burned and pillaged.  It has been rebuilt.  And that is what has fascinated me the most about the history of this church, the rebuilding and the tenacity of the community itself.

            Of course, I confess that I am occasionally guilty of the bragging rights that come with being the oldest English speaking church in continuous existence in America.  I have been known to refer to certain 300 year old churches as contemporary.  I also like to put air quotes around the word “historic” when it is describing any church that is not St. John’s.  It is slightly obnoxious, but I just can’t help myself at times. 

            I was thinking about my pride in this church as I was reading this Gospel reading regarding the Temple in Jerusalem.  Religious authorities had a lot of pride in the temple.  Jesus wasn’t always a fan of religious pride. This Gospel story is one that surprises people.  It does not fit into the image that people have of Jesus.  People picture Jesus with a lamb over his shoulders and children on his lap.  They imagine him teaching and healing.  They don’t usually picture him with a whip driving animals and people out of a temple while overturning tables and in general causing a scene.  This is not the peace loving Jesus who we imagine in our heads.  Yet it was clearly an important event in the life of Jesus because all four Gospel writers recorded it. 

What was it that got Jesus all riled up?  There are a lot of theories about that.  Since he said, “Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace!” some people have assumed that he was angry about the fact that people were selling animals in the temple.  This is possible but unlikely.  Selling animals was a necessary part of the temple system.  People were supposed to make sacrifices and most people did not travel with sacrificial animals.  So it made sense to sell the animals at the temple. Others have said that Jesus was not upset that these animals were being sold, but that they were being sold at an unfair price.  The sellers were taking advantage of people and profiting from these sacrifices that were meant for God alone.   This makes more sense in light of Matthew, Mark and Luke.  In those three Gospels, Jesus tells the people that they have made his father’s house a den of robbers.  But he does not say that in John’s Gospel.  He just tells them to stop making his father’s house a marketplace. 

             I wonder if what he really meant was that they were making the temple a market place for God.  It was as if they were implying that they had exclusive rights to God…that people would only be in God’s presence when they were in the temple.  This was especially a concern in a time when there were many people who were ostracized from the temple.  Not just anyone could go in the temple, which means that God’s love was limited. Jesus knew that this was not the case.  He knew that God was everywhere, present at all times.  Jesus also knew that his life, death, and resurrection would transform how and where people perceived God.   He wanted to introduce that change now. 

            The people who had the power in the temple were angry that Jesus thought he had any right to call this holy temple his father’s house.  So they asked him for a sign…presumably a sign of his power.  His response was even more troublesome.  He said, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.”  They were astounded. The temple that he was standing in had already been under construction for 46 years and it wasn’t even finished yet.  And this carpenter was going to destroy it and build a new one in 3 days?  But Jesus was not talking about a temple made of bricks and mortar.  He was talking about his body.  His body was where God dwelled.  And his body would be destroyed in the crucifixion, but in three days in would be raised.

Jesus was not saying that God was not present in the temple anymore.  He was saying that God was not limited to the temple and no human institution had control over God’s presence.  No person or religious body could say that some people had access to God and some people did not.   That is what got Jesus all riled up.  People weren’t just trying to control money and power; they were trying to control God.  They were trying to limit who had access to God.

http://www.loc.gov/pictures/resource/cph.3g06697/

            One of my favorite images of St. John’s, is the painting that depicts the church right after the burning of Hampton.  It is called “the ruins of church at Hampton.” During the civil war, the town of Hampton was burned down.  The one structure that was left standing were the walls of St. John’s.  I have always loved this image because it conveys the strength and sturdiness of the church.  Recently, I discovered a new perspective.  The walls remained, but the doors, the windows, and the roof were gone. There is an openness to that image that is refreshing.  I imagine God’s presence overflowing from the open windows, doors and roof.  There are no limits on the expansiveness of God’s love. It’s like God’s love is breaking down the doors.  It is bursting out.

Obviously, since then we have rebuilt the roof, the windows and the doors.  Yet what if we were to adopt that image of the wide open church in some way? We could rename that painting.  It would no longer be called “ruins”, it would be called “resurrection,” not because of the building that it would one day be, but because of the opportunity that we have been given again and again to rebuild.   Since we now have actual windows, doors and a roof, the members of this historic church are called on to be our windows and our doors.  We are the connection to the church and the community.  We are here to tell the community that there is no limit to God’s abundant love.  It is overflowing and walls cannot contain it.  We, the members of St. John’s are to be the vessels of Gods overflowing love.  Not only that, but we too are temples of the Holy Spirit.  God dwells in us and even our walls cannot hold that.