Never Let Me Go (Pentecost)

The events recorded by Saint Luke in the second chapter of Acts hold a well deserved place in the hearts of Christians around the world. The Holy Spirit’s decent, Peter’s inspired preaching, and the faithful response of a great and diverse crowd—these are nothing less than the beginning of the new age about which ancient prophet spoke, the birth of the Church on Pentecost, the reason for this festival day.

There’s also a back story to Acts 2, however, a narrative known to Luke and those gathered in Jerusalem so long ago, that proves just as enlightening to our faith and instructive of authentic discipleship as the words of scripture read around the world today.

Pentecost, you see, as an important day on the Jewish calendar long before the time of Jesus. It’s actually mentioned way back in the Old Testament Book of Leviticus, which calls for God’s people to celebrate each year’s first wheat harvest, a time—after the hard work of planting, tilling, and gathering were complete—to take a day off from their labors and give thanks to God for the season’s bounty.

In time, Pentecost also developed an incredibly important spiritual dimension. According to tradition, God delivered the Law to the Exodus pilgrims on Pentecost. The day, therefore, became so much more than a harvest festival. It became a time to remember God’s steadfast love and everything God did to lead the people out of slavery in Egypt to freedom in the Promised Land, especially giving them a law, their law, not the law of their oppressors, to guide them in the way that they should go and to give their lives shape.

In addition to observing the ritual laid out for them in the Law and remembering the day’s connection to the Exodus, at Pentecost the people also told and retold a much admired story that seemed to capture the essential significance of the moment. It was a story about an incredible friendship between two women, the elder of whom was named Naomi, and the younger, the story’s namesake, was called Ruth.

We call this story the Book of Ruth.

I’m sure that some of you know that story, but just to make sure we’re all on the same page, here it is.

A young woman named Ruth marries a woman named Naomi’s son. When the son dies, leaving his mom and widow without any kind of social network of support, Ruth dismisses custom, logic, and, most of her friends would agree, her good judgment in order to stay with her mother-in-law, someone to whom Ruth technically owed nothing and whose presence in her life would drastically limit Ruth’s marital options.

Ruth’s pledge of devotion to Naomi, however, gives us one of the most beautiful expressions of friendship in the whole Bible.

“Where you go, I will go,” Ruth declared, “[and] your people shall be my people, and your God [shall be] my God.”

Love—steadfast love—a love that will not let the other go, a love that will even sacrifice it’s own advantages to maintain that bond—that’s how Ruth loved Naomi, and the faithful recognized that that’s how God loved them, too.

So Pentecost pilgrims told this story in the same way that we read “The Gift of the Magi,” watch “A Christmas Carol,” and sing Handel’s “Messiah” at Christmas time. The story reminded them what the holiday, the holy day, was all about.

And so it was that pilgrims filled the streets of Jerusalem at Pentecost with thanksgiving in their hearts and thoughts of God’s steadfast love on their minds.

In the season following Jesus’ resurrection, there was another group in the city at Pentecost, too. They were Jesus’ disciples and they had been through a lot in the last two months.

Eight weeks earlier, those disciples watched as Jesus rode into the city on the back on a donkey while crowds lined the streets to cheer him on. A few days later, however, the unthinkable happened. One of their own betrayed Jesus, the Romans arrested him, and the crowds called for and received his life on a cross.

It was just as difficult to believe that seven weeks had passed since that crazy Sunday morning in the garden where the unthinkable happened again. Jesus rose from the dead and for the next forty days they sat with him and ate with him, and listened to everything that he had to teach them.

And then he was gone. He ascended into heaven leaving with them one last instruction. He told them to go back to Jerusalem and wait for the Holy Spirit. And that’s how it came to pass that these two groups found themselves in Jerusalem on the Day of Pentecost—the faithful and grateful pilgrims and the faithful and expectant disciples.

The story about how these two groups came together brings us Good News this morning. A sound like the rush of a violent wind, the sight of flames dancing over Jesus’ friends, the Gospel proclaimed to an awestruck assembly, and an accusation of drunkenness—that was the scene.

But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them: ‘Men of Judea and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say…

Peter went on to talk about the ministry of the ancient prophet named Joel who envisioned a time when God would pour out the Spirit on God’s people.

He told them that Joel’s vision had become their reality because God was, in that very moment, pouring the Spirit upon the young and old, men and women, the powerful and the powerless.

Peter then invited the people to enter into that new age by taking hold of the Spirit, grace, and new way of being Jesus offered to them.

And three thousand Pentecost pilgrims embraced the apostle’s preaching, accepted the Good News that God would not let them go, they received baptism.

From that moment, all who’ve followed in the apostles’ steps recognize that, in his triumph over death through his glorious resurrection, Jesus picked up Ruth’s script and, forsaking all advantages and privileges, spoke powerful, hope filled words to a hurting world.

“Where you go, I will go, and your people will be my people.”

“Where you go, I will go, and your people shall be my people.” We do will to remember that these words speak to us nothing less than the Gospel of Jesus Christ for it is always with a love that will not let us go that God holds us.

“What can separate us from the love of God?” asked another inspired preacher.

Nothing! Nothing can separate us from God’s love.

It’s upon this strong foundation, then, that God calls and equips us, through the Spirit’s work in our midst, to boldly, hopefully, and courageously love and serve others as we bear witness to God’s grace.

That’s why we pray these words before we get up from the Table,

Grant that we may go into the world in the strength of your Spirit, to give ourselves for others following the loving example of Jesus Christ, our Lord.

We make this our prayer when we celebrate the Eucharist because the One with whom we commune in this Holy Meal, the One to whom and for whom we give thanks, is the One who promises to hold us for eternity, the same One who sends us out to the world to be known for the way we love, especially the way we love our poor, lonely, and forgotten neighbors.

“Where you go, I will go, and your people will be my people.”

Love—steadfast love—a love that will not let the other go, a love that will even sacrifice its own advantages to maintain that bond—that’s how Ruth loved Naomi, how God loves the world, and how Jesus loves the Church—the love in which the world hears Good News.

Thanks be to God for this Good News. Amen.

The Leaves of the Tree

The several passages read from the Book of Revelation throughout the Easter season lead us, today, to one of my favorite verses of Scripture.

Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city. On either side of the river is the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, producing its fruit each month; and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.

Found in the last chapter of the Bible’s last book, this is the “Last Word,” so to speak, of the apostolic faith, a verse that sets before us a vision of hope and restoration made possible by Jesus’ resurrection, gives shape to the Church’s ministry and presence in the world, and charts the course for faithful hearts to follow. This is the promise of the “tree of life,” and it is Good News for us today.

And you thought Revelation was about the end of the world.

Revelation tells the story of a Christian community tormented and persecuted by the Roman Empire. Faithful to Jesus as their Lord, Christians in this community were unwilling to declare themselves loyal to an Empire that demanded their allegiance and their worship. From the Roman perspective, this stubborn devotion to Jesus was treasonous and deserving of punishment—punishment they meted out in the marketplace, on the streets, and in the churches, even to the point of death.

Weary and nearly defeated, the faithful cried, “How long, Lord? How long will the wicked prosper and the righteous suffer? How long will it be until you take up our cause?”

So many of the wild and mysterious images most often associated with Revelation emerge from the answer to that question.

Darkened skies, falling stars, broken seals, and apocalyptic horsemen—they’re just some of the cast of characters in this inspired effort to assure the faithful that they are precious in God’s sight, that their cries have been heard, and that the Risen Christ has taken up their cause.

The dragon, the great prostitute called Babylon, the beast—like figures in a political cartoon, these are foils in the Apostle’s effort to speak truth in the midst of adversity.

In essence, Saint John tells the faithful that any one or any human system that demands a peoples’ ultimate loyalty (their worship)—and those persons who are willing to give it up to them—all who seek to glorify and enrich themselves at the expense of others will suffer the dire consequences of their actions.

In one of the book’s pivotal scenes, an angel of God delivers the persecutor’s sentence in a mighty voice, “Fallen, fallen is Babylon the great!”

“Come out of her, my people,” cried another. “As she glorified herself and lived luxuriously, so give her a like measure of torment and grief.”

All people, concludes John, will reap their just deserts.

Let the evildoer still do evil, and the filthy still be filthy, and the righteous still do right, and the holy still be holy.

The wicked will reap wickedness, but the People of God will know the presence of God. Their faith will be rewarded.

And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them as their God; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them.”

This brings us, at last, to the passage before us, Revelation 22, where John describes the intimate relationship with God the faithful will experience.

The darkness of persecution lifted, they will walk through the City of God in the light of the Lamb who is Christ Jesus.

The pain of unjust suffering relieved, they will be nourished and find refreshment at the river of the water of life.

And, then, in the part of the story that might be most relevant to those of us who don’t feel particularly persecuted, John describes a tree within that city that blooms not only for the faithful, not only for the righteous, but for the benefit of all people, for the nations.

On either side of the river is the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, producing its fruit each month; and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.

Is it any surprise that in a story about a people who have felt the sting of human cruelty that we find God tending the wounded and giving them just what they need to bring healing to others?

My old teacher, Mickey Efird, puts it like this.

John’s vision includes the tree of life which was available to all, and whose leaves had a healing ingredient for the nations—if they would only accept the medicine! (p. 136)

The fruit of the tree of life is always in season “and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.”

Today we gather together to lift our spirits in praise and bow our hearts in prayer before the Living God who brings healing to the hurting and new life to the mortally wounded. In this gathering, however, we also seek a blessing that would equip us to serve our neighbors—to minister among the nations—with a clear and hopeful purpose: that death will be no more, that mourning and crying and pain will be no more, that tears shall be wiped away and the old ways of violence, destruction, and intimidation reduced to nothing.

Today, we seek to be healed so that we might take part in God’s saving work.

Today we proclaim Good News. The fruit of the tree of life is always in season “and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.”

May the same always be true of the faith that dwells within us.

The fruit of the tree of life is always in season “and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.”

Thanks be to God for this Good News. Amen.

The Road from Babel

After Adam’s fall and Noah’s flood, the Bible presents us with another primordial story. Set on the plains of ancient Mesopotamia, it’s a story about humanity’s hamstrung ascendency, a story about the ways in which the human capacity for greatness and humanity’s greatest weaknesses often conspire to foul up even our most promising opportunities. It is the story called, The Tower of Babel.

Genesis 11 tells the tale.

Now the whole earth had one language and the same words. And as they migrated from the east, they came upon a plain in the land of Shinar and settled there. And they said to one another, “Come, let us make bricks, and burn them thoroughly.” And they had brick for stone, and bitumen for mortar. Then they said, “Come, let us build ourselves a city, and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves; otherwise we shall be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth.”

This is a story about a people who were finally getting their act together. They were cooperating and purposeful. They were dreaming about what they could accomplish and making a plan to achieve it.

They said, “We have brick, and stone, and mortar. We have knowledge and skill. Let’s reach for the heavens. Let’s make a name for ourselves.”

Babel is a story about bold visionaries, or is it a story about a people who were afraid of what might be lurking out there in the wilderness, afraid of being scattered abroad, afraid of finding themselves all alone?

According to Genesis, the people at Babel were conflicted. Yes, they were beginning to access there some of the qualities and attributes that would build the world’s great civilizations, but their fears still exercised a tremendous influence over them.

“We should be walking with the gods,” they said with all the bluster and arrogance they could muster, but they were really just scared about who or what might soon show up on the horizon.

And the Lord took action against them. The Lord confused their language and drove them from that place.

Now the Bible doesn’t mention it, but I’m convinced that the people built a road a as they left Babel, a road paved with the broken stones of their failed tower.

Scattered, our ancestors built the road from Babel with the rocky mix of our desire and ability to achieve great things and our capacity to be overcome and led astray by fear.

They took with the hunger to leave their mark and do something significant, and they took with them fear, specifically fear that covers its scent with arrogance.

Moving out of Babel they built a road that ran to many of the Bible’s great places and cities.

The road from Babel ran first to Egypt where the people built a dazzling civilization of beauty and power. But in Egypt, they learned to fear strangers in their midst called Hebrews. Frightened, they enslaved the Hebrews, ignored a man called Moses and his plea for justice, and, ultimately, incurred the Wrath of God.

But the road went on.

Leaving Egypt, the road from Babel reached the cities of Nineveh and Babylon—centers of power and wealth in the Old Testament that gave their people over to cruelty and war.

And from there, the road went up to Jerusalem, yes, even Jerusalem, where—despite a Holy Law, despite God’s preachers—a great and promised land became a safe haven for injustice, infidelity, and indifference to the ways of God.

The Prophet Amos said that the dust on the road to Jerusalem reminded him of the city’s poor whom the rich walked all over.

He said, “They sell the innocent for silver, and the needy for a pair of sandals. They trample on the heads of the poor as on the dust of the ground and deny justice to the oppressed.”

So much potential.

So much arrogance.

So much fear.

So much death and destruction.

Such is the story about us.

In the fullness of time, the road from Babel reached Rome, and the people there said, “We have brick, and stone, and mortar. We have knowledge and skill. Let’s reach for the heavens. Let’s make a name for ourselves.”

And they did make a name for themselves—a name still revered for its influence over Western Civilization and the world.

“All hail King Caesar!”

And then, Caesar the Great and Powerful came up against a tiny religious community that refused to call him great. Instead of his name, they praised a Jewish rabbi that the Romans killed whom some said God raised from the dead.

The Book of Revelation tells the story about the early days of the conflict between Christians and the Roman Empire. It specifically addresses the situation that Christians faced near the end of the first century in what is today the western half of the nation of Turkey.

Revelation’s message, however, is timeless; for it tells us that the ancient road from Babel to Rome detoured at the cross, and came to its end in the Holy City.

“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth,” declared Saint John the Seer, “and I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God.”

Notice this. Their journey began with a vain attempt to reach the heavens, but the people of Babel came to the end of the road when heaven dipped so low as to touch the earth.

And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them as their God; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them; he will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away.”

Like our ancestors in ancient Egypt, Nineveh, Babylon, Jerusalem and Rome, we so easily find ourselves traveling down the old Babel road that leads to the wrong side of history, justice, mercy, charity, and God.

“When we would do good, evil is present,” that’s how Saint Paul described life on the road.

We, like so many travelers before us, have arrogantly and fearfully, tried to walk with the gods, but the promise of Revelation—the Good News of Jesus Christ—is that God humbly comes to walk, and dwell, and serve among us.

Through belief in this Good News, and faith in this Jesus, we can, therefore, travel a new road where we find comfort in the face of fear and courage “to do justice, love kindness, and to walk humbly with God.”

The Tower of Babel is an old, old story and Revelation is a very strange book. Together, though, they reveal a truth about us that, when we’re honest about it, strikes incredibly close to home.

Individually and collectively we are capable of remarkable achievements. The human potential, even is this little church today, is staggering. But like those who have passed this way before, we know the tension that exists between our desire and ability to achieve great things and our capacity to be overcome and led astray by fear.

For all, then, who want to go another way, in a new direction, a Savior has come to offer salvation, to give us himself.

And the one who was seated on the throne said, “It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life.”

We, like so many travelers before us, have arrogantly and fearfully, tried to walk with the gods, but the promise of Revelation—the Good News of Jesus Christ—is that God humbly comes to walk, and dwell, and serve among us.

Thanks to be God. Alleluia. Amen.

Image: Country Road

The Heart of the Sermon: Psalm 23

While fear disorients us and tempts us to forget who and whose we are, faith begins with a statement of identity. While fear thrives wherever a spirit of scarcity persists, the faithful heart stands in the truth about God’s satisfying abundance.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

The Basics of Church Membership at John Street Church

On any given Sunday, worship at John Street Church brings together an interesting group of people. Every week, lifelong New Yorkers, longtime residents, newcomers, and visitors from across the country and around the world hear the Good News of Jesus Christ and receive his invitation to grow in grace and love through the ministry of America’s oldest Methodist congregation. Becoming a professing member of John Street Church is one way of responding to this invitation.

Prepared with persons who are considering church membership in mind, this document reviews some of the practical questions and concerns—“The Basics” if you will—commonly raised when one comes to this important point in their faith journey.

1. Baptism and Reaffirmation of Faith

2. New Members Class

3. Finances

4. Local Church Government and Decision Making Structures

5. United Methodist Structure

6. History

The information presented here should answer many questions. Of course, you may also take questions about these or any topics to the pastor, Jason Radmacher.

1. Baptism and Reaffirmation of Faith

Baptism with water is the Christian sacrament of initiation. Baptism is a celebration of forgiven sin, new life in the Holy Spirit, and of the place reserved for all in the household of faith through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Persons joining John Street Church who have never been baptized will receive the sacrament during a worship service.

Persons becoming members of the church who have been baptized, will reaffirm the vows made at their baptism or confirmation.

Since the Christian faith is greater than any one denomination, John Street Church recognizes the validity and efficacy of baptisms held in other Christian churches and will not “rebaptize” individuals.

Persons who want to bring their children for baptism at John Street Church should speak to Jason.

2. New Members Class

The most effective “class” for persons interested in joining John Street Church is regular participation in worship and Sunday morning activities. In these activities one sees first hand the nature of our theological convictions and how we express those convictions in practical ways. In short, rather than tell you what kind of church we are, we’d rather show you.

There are important aspects of our life together, however, that we seldom discuss in depth during worship. We discuss these in classes and workshops which are open to all participants in our community.

Jason is also happy to meet with individuals to discuss their specific concerns and questions.

3. Finances

The members of John Street Church approve a budget annually. Our budgeted expenses include employees’ wages and benefits, congregation ministries, office and building supplies and upkeep, and our congregation’s share or “apportionment” of expenses related to the ministry of the United Methodist Church in our area and around the world. While John Street Church receives generous support from the John Street Church Trust Fund Society, an organization dedicated to funding our congregation’s ministry, the tithes and offerings of our friends and members is our greatest source of budgeted income.

There are no secrets in our budget and copies are available upon request.

4. Local Church Government and Decision Making Structures

Several committees made up of church members and the pastor meet throughout the year to discuss, shape, and lead various aspects of John Street Church’s ministry and life together.

a. Administrative or Church Council

The Administrative or Church Council’s chief concern is visioning, establishing, and pursuing our congregation’s goals for ministry. All members of John Street Church have voice and vote on the Council.

Once a year, our District Superintendent (see United Methodist Structure) participates in a Council meeting called the Church Conference. The Church Conference is the highest ranking decision body within our congregation.

b. Board of Trustees

The Board of Trustees’ chief concern is the stewardship of our historic building.

c. Finance Committee

The Finance Committee’s chief concern is seeing that our income and expenses reflect our values and goals for ministry.

d. Staff-Parish Relations Committee

The Staff-Parish Relations Committee serves as a liaison between the congregation and our paid employees (including the pastor).

e. Lay Leadership and Nominations Committee

The Lay Leadership and Nominations Committee identifies and nominates lay members of the congregation to serve in various leadership positions.

5. United Methodist Structure

John Street Church is a member congregation of the United Methodist Church, a global Christian communion of 12.1 million individuals. The General Conference, a gathering of lay and clergy delegates which meets every four years, is the highest ranking decision body in the United Methodist Church. No single person sets policy or speaks for the denomination.

Closer to home, John Street Church is a member congregation of the New York Annual Conference, a regional unit within the UMC consisting of nearly 500 congregations and 138,000 members. The conference includes all of Long Island, New York City, Connecticut west of the Connecticut River and an area on both sides of the Hudson River as far west as Walton and as far north as Chatham and North Blenheim.

Clergy and lay delegates from the conference meet in session over four days every June to discuss temporal and spiritual matters affecting ministry in the area.

Bishop Martin McLee oversees the church’s ministry within the conference. Appointing or assigning clergy to serve as pastors of local churches, including John Street, is one of the bishop’s greatest responsibilities.

Still closer to home, John Street Church is a member church of the Metropolitan District of the New York Annual Conference. The Metropolitan District, one of six districts in the conference, includes the 74 United Methodist congregations on Staten Island and in Manhattan, the Bronx, and southern Westchester County.

Rev. St. Clair Samuel currently serves as the District Superintendent. Leading Church Conferences is one of the District Superintendent’s greatest responsibilities.

One may learn more about the United Methodist Church and the New York Annual Conference at www.umc.org and www.nyac.com.

6. History

From weekday visitors and weekend worshippers, persons usually sense that they’ve entered a historic place as soon as they walk through John Street Church’s front door.

The members of John Street Church humbly take their place among the “great cloud of witnesses” who have borne witness to the Gospel in Lower Manhattan since 1766. The oldest Methodist congregation in America, our ancestors built the first chapel on John Street in 1768, and built our current facility, the third on the site, in 1841.

Each year, John Street Church celebrates “Heritage Sunday” on the last Sunday of October. Services and sermons throughout the year regularly contain references to events and individuals from our history, too. Wesley Chapel Museum on the church’s lower level is open year round.

John Street Church regularly presents a 60 minute program about our congregation’s history to visitors to church groups. Members and friends of the congregation are always welcome to join these groups.

An Invitation

When an individual steps forward to be baptized or to join John Street Church, the pastor asks this important question.

Do you confess Jesus Christ as your Savior, put your whole trust in this grace, and promise to serve him as your Lord, in union with the church which Christ has opened to people of all ages, nations, and races?

If the Spirit is leading you to answer this question by saying “Yes, I do,” then the people of John Street Church are willing to receive you as a member of America’s oldest Methodist congregation.

Contact Jason Radmacher at 212-269-0014 or jason@johnstreetchurch.org to take the final steps toward membership at John Street Church.

Room for Reconciliation

It’s possible that Ananias of Damascus is the most important figure in the New Testament that you’ve never heard about. He’s certainly the most important figure in the New Testament about whom I’ve never preached.

Ananias played a pivotal role in the life of Saul (also known as Paul). He was a mentor of sorts to the would be apostle who had to overcome his own fears, misgivings, and anger about what Paul had done in order for both men to grow into the disciples grace made possible.

Before Paul traveled the Empire preaching Good News, Ananias welcomed him into his life.

Before Paul advocated for the barrier-breaking Gospel of Jesus Christ, Ananias lowered his guard and embraced a man with a bad reputation.

Before Paul defined love for a wayward church, Ananias loved him.

The ninth chapter of Acts tells this great story.

In its earliest days, the Church’s opponents tried to stomp out the flames of revival sparked by the news of Jesus’ resurrection. The zeal with which the Establishment shouted down the first Christian preachers quickly led to violence and to the execution of Stephen, the first Christian martyr, by an angry mob.

Paul witnessed and approved of Stephen’s murder, and soon afterward led an aggressive campaign in Jerusalem to indentify and eliminate the persons who shared the dead man’s beliefs.

Paul’s efforts, however, only helped the Christian message spread as many believers moved from Jerusalem to new locales, taking their new ideas about what God had done in and through Jesus with them.

Having, then, accomplished exactly the opposite of what he wanted to do, Paul’s rage consumed him. Seething with anger—and “breathing threats and murder against the disciples”—he took his pretty little hate machine on the road where he intended to round up and remove all who dared to disagree with him.

Now as he was going along and approaching Damascus, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” He asked, “Who are you, Lord?” The reply came, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. But get up and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do.”

Now this is the part of the story we usually call Paul’s conversion, right? But did you notice that there’s really no conversion here?

Yes, there was a mysterious encounter with Jesus who commanded him to change his travel plans, but it’s fair to say that when Paul finally reached Damascus he was more confused than converted.

For three days he was without sight [in Damascus], and neither ate nor drank [there].

Enter Ananias.

Now there was a disciple in Damascus named Ananias. The Lord said to him in a vision, “Ananias.” He answered, “Here I am, Lord.” The Lord said to him, “Get up and go to the street called Straight, and at the house of Judas look for a man of Tarsus named Saul. At this moment he is praying, and he has seen in a vision a man named Ananias come in and lay his hands on him so that he might regain his sight.”

But Ananias knew the evil deeds of this man of Tarsus. He knew what he had done in Jerusalem and what he intended to do in Damascus.

Ananias protested, “Really, Lord, you want me to go looking for this guy? You want me to show kindness to this man of violence?”

But the Lord said to him, “Go, for he is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel; I myself will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name.”

So Ananias went and entered the house [on the street called Straight.] He laid his hands on Saul and said, “Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on your way here, has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.”

And immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and his sight was restored. Then he got up and was baptized, and after taking some food, he regained his strength.

In the wake of Ananias’ kindness, Paul began to preach the Good News he once despised. No longer a violent man, he was a faithful man whose apostolic ministry extended the boundaries of God’s kingdom like none other.

Ananias, therefore, is vitally important to our story as Christians. He is important to us because he shows us that before Paul became an ambassador of God’s love for all people—rich and poor, slave and free, Jew and Gentile, man and woman—before Paul preached grace, he received grace from one who, despite the evidence to the contrary, believed that God could do something wonderful with him, even him.

Years after he met Ananias, Paul alluded to the experience in a letter to a minster named Timothy.

“I am grateful to Christ Jesus our Lord,” Paul confessed, “because he judged me faithful and appointed me to his service, even though I was formerly a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence. But I received mercy…and the grace of our Lord overflowed for me with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.”

Ananias, in faith, stepped toward Paul and became an apostle to the greatest apostle. In love, he built a bridge to the great champion of what love can do.

Easter is the season of New Creation, of the new possibilities Jesus’ resurrection makes possible, and one of those new possibilities—something at the heart of this story about Paul and Ananias—is the power of grace and love to turn former adversaries into friends—brothers and sisters in the great family of God.

“Love your enemies.” That’s what Jesus asked of us.

Love your enemies…and you will be children of the Most High; for he is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.

Animated by this message, by this grace, by this Savior, our task as Christians includes creating the space and atmosphere in which reconciliation takes place, in which love is let loose to do its work.

We’re called to be merciful because we’ve received mercy.

We are gracious because we’ve known grace.

We bless others because we know that we are blessed.

We believe that rascals and scoundrels, enemies and annoyances can take part in the New Creation because God is making all things new—even you and me—through Jesus and his love.

Easter is the season of New Creation and resurrecting/reconciling love is the sign that springtime has come to a cold dark crucified world.

Before Paul traveled the Empire preaching Good News, Ananias welcomed him into his life.

Before Paul advocated for the barrier-breaking Gospel of Jesus Christ, Ananias lowered his guard and embraced a man with a bad reputation.

Before Paul defined love for a wayward church, Ananias loved him.

May we, then, love and embrace and welcome others like Ananias loved, embraced, and welcomed Paul, trusting God to open our eyes to the glories of God’s New Creation all around us.

Thanks be to God for this Good News. Alleluia. Amen.

Easter 2013: Into the Streets

Long ago, in the summer of 1856, the members of this congregation threw a most peculiar church social. They had a riot on John Street. The culmination of a season of serious discontent, the riot paired families, hired thugs, and the city police against one another on the church’s front steps.

“The John Street Methodist Church. The Fight Gets into the Streets.”—that’s the headline with which the Times marked our misfortune, a misfortune borne of a long simmering debate about whether or not the church’s leadership would sell this property and move uptown. The group that wanted to stay downtown—the Downtowners—felt so threatened by this debate that they actually moved into the church. Their point being that the Uptowners—those who wanted to move uptown—couldn’t sell the building if people were living in it. Not to be outdone, the Uptowners hired a guy named William Thompson to form a posse and move into the church, too.

Now, it’s unclear if this was the same William Thompson who was such a notorious criminal that a local paper coined the term “con man” to describe him, but, nevertheless, soon after he showed up, the mayor and police department also got involved.

The mess boiled over the night of July 25 when Thompson got locked out of the church. His efforts to get back in led to the infamous scene at our front door. This is how the Times reported the story.

Not succeeding in effecting an entrance, Thompson’s party drew some sticks and rushed on those holding the door, whereupon the police, of whom a platoon was on the ground, ran to the reside, and by the indiscriminate use of the locust [that is to say, their nightsticks], they drove them off. At this stage in the proceedings, Thompson’s men seeing from the window that their party was being worsted, opened the door…came out and ran off, closely pursued by the police. The downtowners, to the number of 27, then took possession of the church and made a thorough search of the premises, when they found several clubs, and sundry bottles which had once contained schnapps and rot-gut of several qualities and kinds. Several policemen were struck, but their fellows amply avenged the wrong. The church is now in the hands of the downtown worshippers, and service is announced for Sunday.

Can’t you imagine getting that invitation?

“Come to John Street Church this weekend. We haven’t tried to kill each other in two days and you might just find a bottle of schnapps under your seat.”

Well, as is often the case with history, we learn it so that we don’t have to repeat it. In the case of history’s less than stellar be-like-Jesus moments—like church sponsored street fights—we can also take comfort in the fact that as bad as it gets, Saint Paul probably had to deal with something similar in the church that he started in the ancient Greek city called Corinth.

The New Testament’s Book of Acts and Paul’s letters paint a picture of a tumultuous religious community in Corinth—one that reflected the Gospel’s promise and greatest threat. On one hand, an incredibly diverse group of people there embraced the Christian message of forgiveness and new life in and through Jesus’ death and resurrection. Rich, poor, slave, free, Gentile, Jew, and the ancient versions of Uptowners and Downtowners—all found a place at Christ’s table. Unfortunately, the people next to whom Jesus sat them often drove them crazy.

Stereotypes, old hatreds, and bigotry abounded. A sense of entitlement and moral superiority infected many. Disdain for the poor and a disregard for the common good threatened to undo everything.

So Paul went to work demonstrating to the people that reconciliation wasn’t just something that Jesus made possible between God and sinners—something that individuals could claim for themselves. Paul argued that Jesus also made reconciliation possible between people, saying that Jesus, in his Resurrected power, produced an abundance of friendship, community, and mutual love where barriers of class, enmity, and pride of place once stood.

To the Corinthians, Paul wrote these words,

From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view; even though we once knew Christ from a human point of view, we know him no longer in that way. So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!

In the light of Easter morning, not only do we see Christ differently, we see one another, our neighbors, a hurting world, and all its hurting peoples differently, too.

Just as Jesus took to the cross the weight of all that is broken and tragic on Friday and rose up and overcame them come Sunday, we see in the brokenness and tragedies of our time, stories still to be finished. We see a creation yearning and groaning to hear the Good News of its redemption. We see a creation yearning and groaning to live into the full potential of its redemption.

As an Easter people, then, it’s our calling, our mission, our ministry, to let it be known by those who grope in the shadows of oppression, poverty, pain, and despair that, upon them, yes, upon them, light has shined.

[When Jesus was in the room] lepers, prostitutes, tax collectors, sinners, poor people, discarded ones, blind people, debtors, outcasts, children, women, men, elderly people, sick people, Gentiles, Samaritans, Jews, demon-possessed people, outsiders, heretics, Pharisees, lawyers, and even rich people and big deals were… invited, included, affirmed, loved, touched, liberated, held, embraced, healed, cleansed, given dignity, fed, forgiven, made whole, called, reborn, given hope, received, honored, freed.(Erlander in Storey, p. 165)

“That’s what happened when Jesus was around,” noted my beloved teacher Peter Storey. “Not a single person excluded, not a single grace held back. That’s what life is about—life in all its fullness.” (Storey, p. 165)

And Easter is about life, the new life Jesus makes possible and offers to all—even Uptowners and Downtowners, Corinthian malcontents, and you and me.

Thanks be to God for the Gospel of Resurrection and New Life.

Thanks be to God for the Good News of Easter.

Thanks be to God. Alleluia. Amen.