Pr. Joseph Crippen

There is no sacred place or secular space: the Triune God is here, with you, in every breath of your life, so keep your eyes open and your heart ready.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Third Sunday of Easter, year A
Text: Luke 24:13-35

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

The disciples knew Jesus in the breaking of the bread.

This moment in a little house in Emmaus is so moving to us, so true to our experience and the experience of the Church for millennia, those words are a beloved phrase in our grammar of faith.

This couple, after walking a few hours from Jerusalem with a stranger who engaged them in conversation, invited him into their home. Certainly to stay the night, but of course they first offered him a meal.

And when he, as guest, broke the bread, their eyes were opened, and they recognized Jesus.

And as we gather at Jesus’ Table again today, we live in anticipation and hope of this truth happening again, one we’ve experienced over and over. We will know Jesus in the breaking of the bread.

But here’s the great wonder: they already had known Jesus that day.

When he vanished, they realized it clearly. “Weren’t our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the Scriptures to us?”

Their eyes might have been closed on the road. But their hearts weren’t. Their hearts knew Jesus was walking with them those seven miles. Encouraging them, listening to their grief and pain. Opening their hearts and minds to God’s Word and how it was hope for them in this strange and confusing day.

It wasn’t in the quiet of an evening dinner table that they really needed Jesus. They needed Jesus in the tiring trudge of a walk in the dust and stones. In the fear and trauma they felt losing their beloved Teacher in such a horrible way. In the fear and possible hope they felt hearing what some of their fellow women disciples said they’d seen and experienced that morning. And the risen Christ was there in all that.

I’ll never forget the faith I saw in a Bedouin from the Middle East.

This was 30 years ago, in a documentary about the life of these wandering nomads who live much as their ancestors lived for centuries and centuries before.

The interviewer asked this man how his faith in Allah helped him with his daily life, dealing with all the challenges. Basically how he applied his faith to his secular life.

The man looked utterly confused, not knowing what the questioner meant. He said, “There is no place in my life where Allah is not.” He spoke of his entire life lived in God’s presence, every moment, every trial, every joy.

I remember as if it were yesterday that I thought, “I want to have faith like this man.” Not that I wanted to become Muslim. What I wanted was to live with the same awareness of God’s presence in every moment, every trial, every joy of my life. And along with a couple other Spirit-given insights in those days, that began my now deeply rooted conviction that there is no such thing as sacred and secular. If God exists, then all the world is imbued with God, all things live in the life of God, all life is breathed in God’s breath. The Triune God is always on the road with us as much as at this Table in this place.

But our life is kind of a reverse of this Emmaus story.

We start here, in this place. You people have taught me from the first day I came among you as your pastor that here, in this place, you expect to meet God, and you do meet God. You experience this room, this worship, as holy ground. That’s really the secret to why worship here is such a blessing. You gather here fully expecting to be with God, to listen to God, to pray to God, to praise and lament in song with and to God, to see God in each other. Mystery, silence, ambiguity, confusion, none are frightening because you know the Triune God will be here in all of that. With you. With me.

There’s never a sense of indifference or nonchalance of the people of God in worship here. The Triune God meets you here and it’s always a matter of life and death to you. I am deeply grateful for you showing me this and sharing this with me.

So here is our Emmaus table. Except we already know who it is who breaks bread with us, guides us, encourages us, challenges us, leads us in this place.

And that means we already know who it is who is burning in our hearts when we leave here.

That’s the great wonder of our life of faith.

We meet the risen Christ here so we can recognize the risen Christ on the road. We are fed and taught and loved by Christ here so we can open our eyes and recognize Christ’s presence in every moment, every trial, every joy out there, in our lives, in the world. Where all ground is holy ground.

And look what you and I get out there, on the road. A God who opens up God’s will and grace through Scripture to us on our journey, carefully explaining, gently guiding, sometimes shocking and challenging. Jesus didn’t just walk with this couple. He taught them, helped them see God’s grace in a new and beautiful way. And so Christ does the same to you, if you listen and pay attention on your road.

And Jesus also listened to them. He noticed where they were emotionally – sad, traumatized, confused – and met them there. He shared their pain and the beginnings of hope that they were feeling. And so as Christ walks with you on your road, Christ likewise meets you where you are, pays attention to what you’re feeling, listens, cares, blesses.

And best is, you don’t need to do anything to get this.

This couple was going to have their painful, confused conversations as they walked back home, no matter what. It was the risen Christ who chose to show up with them and bless them.

And so it is with you. You’re going to live your life, walk your road, experience all you experience, no matter what. But the risen Christ chooses to show up with you and bless you.

So consider how you might respond. This couple listened on the road, probably asked a lot of questions, too. And then, hearts afire and blessed by this new friend, they invited him into their home.

There’s another phrase in our grammar of faith that’s beloved to us, isn’t there? “Stay with us, Lord, for it is evening, and the day is almost over.” That’s all you need to do. Be ready for Christ to join you not just here in this room but everywhere you go. And invite him to stay with you, in the night of this world and in the days you also have been given.

And be ready for open eyes and burning hearts. Be ready to sent out yourself as God’s presence in this broken and frightening world. It’s going to be amazing.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

You’re afraid, we all are, but the women show us we can bravely share our lives – still afraid, but filled with joy in God’s risen life in us.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Resurrection of Our Lord, year A
Text: Matthew 28:1-10

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

They were so scared, they looked dead.

These tough guards at the tomb, armor-clad, carrying weapons, were terrified. They shook and fell to the ground. Like dead men.

Give the benefit of the doubt. Earthquakes are scary. And an angel of God showed up in the middle of it. That dropped them like trees. This being from heaven sits on the stone that used to cover the tomb. The tomb they were supposed to be guarding instead of being frozen, curled up on the ground, like dead men.

We know something about being frozen in fear.

These times are so overwhelming, and not just because we had a couple months of violent federal occupation of our cities, our homes, our schools, that’s lessened visually but still is ongoing. It’s the disastrous war in the Middle East, the relentless assault on the lives of vulnerable people, the fear of wondering which of our democratic processes and systems and even allies will remain after a couple more years of this.

We’re not frozen by fear of seeing an angel or an earthquake. We’re frozen by fear of what we can’t control, things that overwhelm and threaten. Sometimes in our immobility we might even look dead.

But something else freezes us, too.

We’ve just walked with Jesus through these Three Days and have seen him demonstrate with his own body and blood what the path of God’s love, will mean. It means sacrificing ourselves in love for others. Even Jesus struggled with this when he prayed in Gethsemane.

There’s a reason so many Christians in every generation reduce the faith to simply believing the right things, having correct theology. It’s fear of the alternative: that Jesus meant Christian faith to be a life fully engaged in costly relationships of love, vulnerability, and self-giving, with God and with neighbor.

We might have to face our own prejudice and privilege and lose some comfort to follow Christ. We might have to dare to allow ourselves to live on less so others can live. We might have to have our dearest opinions and convictions and biases challenged and broken open. We might have to risk being hurt.

It’s much easier to act as if faith is thinking things right, and not being someone new. When we do this, we look dead.

But there were others experiencing that earthquake, seeing that angel.

There were some women there. Disciples, followers of Jesus. Unlike the other disciples, they came out of hiding to go to the tomb and be near Jesus’ body, early. Before dawn.

And they’re terrified, too. But they don’t fall to the ground like they’re dead. They keep their eyes open. They stay standing.

And so they hear this frightening angel tell them news they never could have hoped to hear: Jesus is alive. And the angel sends them out to tell the others.

They keep their eyes open still. They start walking. And they meet Jesus on the way! They get to hold him. Love him.

These women were just as afraid as the guards, just as afraid as you and I can be. But they held it together long enough to see the joy of what God was doing in this frightening moment.

And they don’t freeze in this moment of joy.

Both the angel and Jesus send them to go and tell others. They can’t go home and live with this news alone, with warmth in their hearts. This faith in the risen Jesus isn’t something you keep inside.

No, they are sent out to be vulnerable, just as Jesus always said. They’ll risk being disbelieved. They’re women, so they’ll also risk being discounted and ignored. They’re sent to witness with their vulnerable, self-giving lives that servanthood and sacrificial love, even to death, always ends in resurrection and abundant life. That this path they’ve all been called to walk looks scary and filled with loss, but ends in the earthquake of God restoring life that has been freely given for others.

And of course you and I are also sent. If you want to follow Jesus, it means taking this joy of God’s Easter life and letting it break your immobility. It means going into the world to be Christ. To be self-giving love.

But are you still afraid? Do you fear this sending Jesus gives you?

That’s OK. Take one more look at Matthew’s Gospel. Do you see how the women left the tomb to witness? They went, Matthew says, “quickly, with fear and great joy.”

They were still afraid. But they were filled with joy. They didn’t know what the future would be for them, and that still frightened them. But now they knew this path was filled with God’s abundant life and love, a life that can’t be stopped by death, a love too strong to stay in a grave. And that gave them great joy.

It’s the joy of God’s Easter life that swings the balance for you, gives you just enough courage – it doesn’t take much – enough courage to outweigh the fear you have of being out there, vulnerable, as Christ, in the world.

If you want to follow the risen Christ, just follow these women. They’ve got the right idea. Fear and great joy, with enough resurrection courage to get moving. And Christ will meet you on the way and help you with all the rest.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

You belong to a God who made all things, brings amazing healing and life to the world and still is doing it in you and all people; trust this God for your life.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Great Vigil of Easter
Texts: The Vigil stories, including the resurrection

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

There’s a lot to process here tonight.

These massive stories we heard make astonishing claims. There is a God who created all that is out of chaos, made all this beauty, and called it good, again and again. This same God acted in anger at the wickedness on this planet and flooded it all higher than mountaintops, saving a family and a bunch of animals, then repented of that destruction and promised never to do it again.

This same God rescued a particular beloved group of people from slavery and dramatically parted a sea in two. And rescued three faithful servants from a horrible death by protecting them in the heart of a flaming furnace.

And we’re asked to believe all this, outlandish as the stories might seem, stories that anyone who isn’t a believer would scoff at.

And then there’s this last one: this same God became a human being like us, lived, loved, taught, and was executed. But then rose from the dead, was seen by beloved friends and disciples. Now we’re talking about dead people not staying dead.

How do we understand these stories when all around us people will say they couldn’t be true?

Well, you’ve already done the hardest part of faith: believing in God’s existence at all.

And once God’s in the picture, there’s no keeping God out. Author Morris West wrote, “Once you accept the existence of God – however you define God, however you explain your relationship to God –you are caught forever with God’s presence in the center of all things.”[1]

Once we accept God’s existence, no matter our theology, God is potentially involved in everything. If you believe in God at all, miracles like these stories are always possible. If you don’t believe in God, nothing can prove such miracles to you.

So tonight to believers like us, these stories promise that God can do anything, therefore God can do these things.

And if God can do these things, God can do anything.

In the catacombs of Priscilla underneath Rome, there’s a tomb of a Christian woman from the late third century. And painted on the wall of her tomb is a picture of a long sea serpent with a person sticking out of its mouth, and one of three men standing in the middle of flames.

These were the pictures this faithful woman’s family wanted to see at her tomb. A God who can pull Jonah out of the mouth of a beast, who can save three people cast into a fire. Any God who can do that can be trusted to raise their beloved from the dead, too.

So for us tonight, if God can rescue a whole people from slavery, God can break oppression and injustice today, and free people from their bondage.

If God can be with people in a great flood or a fiery furnace and keep them safe, God can be with you in your trials and afflictions and hold you.

If God can raise someone from the dead, God can give you life right now.

And since God’s promised in Christ to do just that, that’s your hope tonight.

You belong to a God who is alive and active in this world and capable of bringing amazing life and healing. Far beyond reason and rational thought.

You belong to a crucified and risen God who is in the center of all things and who promises to bring life to you and to all, now and forever. To a Triune God who can create a universe, save a whole people, protect in the midst of crisis, and raise the dead, bringing life and healing to you and your neighbors and the world is pretty basic.

You’ve already done the hard thing, believing and trusting in the God Jesus reveals to you and the world. So live in the trust that such a God is love for you and for all as Jesus said, and nothing will stop this God from bringing life and healing to you and to all things.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

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[1] Morris West, The Clowns of God, prologue (alt.), © 1981 Hodder and Stoughton/William Morrow.