Sermon onJohn 20:1-18

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

Jesus was dead. That much was certain. Mary Magdalene had been standing there by the cross, watching when Jesus wet his lips on the sponge of sour wine, when he cried out “It is finished,” when he bowed his head and breathed his last.

Before dawn after the Sabbath, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb where Jesus’ body had been laid. Darkness and light are symbolic in the Gospel of John. Light symbolizes understanding, and darkness symbolizes lack of understanding. As much as imagery that casts darkness as bad and light as good has unpleasant implications around race as well as visual impairment, it’s important to know that it’s in the text.

A couple examples:

·       Nicodemus, the confused teacher, came to Jesus at nighttime to ask questions.

·       In contrast, the woman at the well, a Samaritan, an outsider, encountered Jesus and had an insightful conversation with him in the intense noon sunlight.

In our story today, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb in the dark. She was lost in grief and the distress of finding that the tomb had been tampered with.

She knew how the world worked. She knew how death worked. Lazarus had been raised from the dead, but he was an anomaly. And besides, Jesus wasn’t there to raise himself from the dead. That would be ridiculous! So, what she knew was that her teacher was dead, and his grave had been robbed.

After Peter and the other disciple Mary had alerted had found the tomb empty, they went home. They were still in the pre-dawn of not understanding. And Mary was alone again.

As she wept, she looked into the tomb and saw two divine messengers, but it still hadn’t really clicked. Then, she turned around and saw someone she assumed to be the gardener.

She wasn’t really wrong, though, was she?

God is a gardener.

God created the Garden of Eden and walked around it with Adam and Eve.

Every plant is a testament to the life found in God.

In my garden at home, I can prepare the soil, give it water, prune, and weed, and stake. But I don’t make the plants grow. Every new shoot and branch and bud, and yes, even the weeds, remind me of God’s creative work.

Jesus used a lot of plant imagery in his teachings.

·       The kingdom of God is like a mustard seed—a tiny thing that grows big enough to provide rest for birds.[1]

·       And “I am the vine; you are the branches.”[2]

·       And“Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain, but if it dies it bears much fruit.”[3]

Jesus planted the seeds of the Beloved Community throughout his ministry. He taught his disciples and all who listened to him about mercy and justice and inclusion and compassion.

Gardening is about caring for life. Gardeners learn to care for their plants, their land, and even care for other people by growing fruit and vegetables for them to enjoy.

Jesus’ ministry was also about caring for life. He taught us to love our neighbors, to seek justice for the oppressed, to care for each other’s physical needs. Jesus brought us life.

But on Good Friday, it seemed like the seeds of Jesus’ mission had died with him. Jesus’ message of compassion and mercy had sounded good, but it wasn’t enough to save him from the Romans, from being made an example of by the state. His disciples were understandably afraid of suffering the same death, so it didn’t seem likely that Jesus’ message would outlive him.

But, like the persistent weeds in my garden, Jesus wasn’t that easy to get rid of.God, the gardener, is all about life, abundant, extravagant life.

Jesus rose, alive, from the tomb, and his mission of abundant life for all flowered.

The garden he was buried in became a new Garden of Eden, and this story is a re-creation story. Just as Adam and Eve were face-to-face with God in the garden, Mary was face-to-face with the risen Jesus.

And when Mary heard her name, the fog of her grief vanished, and she recognized her living rabbi.

His mission was as alive as he was, and after he ascended, the Holy Spirit came and helped the seedling of the Beloved Community grow, bear fruit, and spread.

So, when Mary saw Jesus and thought was a gardener, she wasn’t wrong.

But, like Mary, sometimes it’s easy to get lost in our grief: our grief at the state of the world, our grief when it looks like death has won.

The violence we humans wreaked upon Jesus is not a thing of the past. Nor is hunger, disease, discrimination, or war.

Sometimes it feels like death has trampled the seedlings of the Beloved Community.

It’s tempting to give in to cynicism, disillusionment, and despair.

But that’s when God calls our name, and we recognize Jesus in an unassuming gardener, or a child waving, or an unhoused neighbor saying “good morning,” or a dear friend embracing us.

To paraphrase one of my favorite Lord of the Rings quotes, “There’s some good in this world, and it’s worth fighting for.” And I would add that it’s worth living for—and loving for.

Even when it seems like evil and death have the upper hand, our gardener God is on the side of life, and Jesus has already defeated death.

The harvest of the Beloved Community is not fully ripe yet, but it will be one day, and even now there are signs of it everywhere. Itsprouts in the most unlikely places, like an empty tomb.

That’s when a gardener calls our name and invites us to tell others about our joy.

Just as Jesus instructed Mary to go tell the other disciples that he was alive (making her the first preacher of the risen Jesus, I might add), Jesus invites us to share with others the sprouts of the Beloved Community we see.

As part of our yearlong Sabbath theme, we spent Lent practicing rest and trying on spiritual practices. I hope you’ve had the chance to slow down, even just the slightest bit, and notice God in your daily life.

If not, that’s okay. That’s why they’re called spiritual practices, not spiritual “perfects.”

It’s easier to noticesmall joys and delights, little signs of God’s presence, when we slow down.

This season,let’s continue doing those restful practices that help us notice God. And when you do, share your joy with someone else.

It doesn’t have to be a stranger—Mary told the other disciples, not people she didn’t know. But share your joy. Our world certainly needs more of it. With God’s help, that’s a way to cultivate the Beloved Community.

God, our abundant gardener, is calling your name. Let that joy take root in your heart, and share it with each other.

[1]Matthew 13:31–32, Mark 4:30–32, and Luke 13:18–19

[2][2] John 15:5

[3] John 12:24

Sermon onJohn 12:20-33

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

During Lent this year, our readings from the Hebrew Bible remind us of some of God’s promises.

1.    We started by reading about Godsending the rainbow as a permanent covenant of peace.

2.    Then, we read about God’s covenant that Abraham and Sarah’s numerous descendants would be God’s people forever.

3.    Two weeks ago, we read a third covenant: the 10 Commandments, which illustrate right relationship for God’s people.

4.    Last week, God brought healing to the complaining Israelites in the wilderness.

This week, we’re wrapping up this series of God’s promises as we progress on our Lenten journey to the cross.

In our reading from Jeremiah today, God declares a new covenant—not one that’s written on stone tablets that can be broken, but one that’s inscribed on the hearts of God’s people, where it will last forever.

Just because it says it’s a new covenant doesn’t mean it replaces what came before. As the organization The Salt Project put it earlier this season, each of God’s promises are like petals on a single flower. The older petals don’t go away because there’s a new petal. Instead, we get to see more of God’s beauty as each petal unfurls.

That’s why I’ve been listing all the promises we’ve been looking at all season at the beginning of each sermon, even though it’s gotten to be a long list. We’re getting to see a fuller, more stunning picture of God’s relationship with humanity with each additional promise.

Today’s promise reminds us that God has always been about forgiveness and reconciliation. When Jesus came, he wasn’t instituting anything new—he was fulfilling what God was already about and had been at work toward from the beginning.

And Jesus reminds his followers of his mission of forgiveness and reconciliation in our Gospel reading today.

The Gospel of John tends to show us a very divine Jesus, but we see a glimpse of his humanity in this reading. He admits that his soul is troubled at the prospect of what he’s about to undergo.

It’s a little strange to read this part before Palm Sunday next week, because in the Gospel of John, this scene actually happens shortly after Palm Sunday. Jesus had already raised Lazarus from the dead, which made the religious leaders decide that Jesus was too much of the threat to their power and that something would have to be done about him.

Then, Jesus rode into Jerusalem in a parade that essentially mocked the Roman authorities. The people watching were like, “Yeah, this guy’s going to kick out the Romans and make things better for us!” And the religious and political leaders were not going to sit back and let that happen.

So, Jesus knows in our Gospel reading today that he has made powerful enemies, and that his time is running out. He’s honest about the fact that he’s not looking forward to what’s about to happen, but he also declares to his followers that he is completely committed to his mission, which will lead to his execution.

His mission is expansive—in being lifted up, he will draw all people to himself. He will be lifted up on the cross, lifted up in resurrection power, and lifted up into the sky in his ascension.

That lifting up is for the healing of the world, as we talked about last week when we read about Jesus comparing himself to the bronze snake sculpture that Moses put on a pole so that anyone who had been bitten by poisonous serpents could look on it and live.

Jesus’ mission is to bring healing to the world, and that mission involves being lifted up to death, resurrection, and eternal community with God. Jesus talks about a seed that cannot be fruitful unless it dies to its current form in the ground. The new life of Jesus’ mission will not come to be without death.

It's only after Jesus’ death, resurrection, and ascension that the Holy Spirit lights up the hearts of Jesus’ followers and spreads the Good News of God’s love far and wide. Shortly after our reading today, Jesus will gather his disciples over a Passover meal and tell them, “Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father.”[1]

Despite what the authorities hoped, Jesus’ mission would not end with his death, but would instead spread beyond what they could imagine.

And it was already happening: our reading today opens with some Greek folks asking to see Jesus. It was not just Jesus’ own Jewish kindred who were interested in him. He was gathering attention from Gentiles.

And of course that was only the beginning of Gentiles’ involvement in the Jesus movement. We see that expansion and inclusion throughout most of the letters in the New Testament and in the book of Acts. And, unless you have some Jewish heritage, you and I would not be in this room today if it weren’t for that expansion and inclusion.

This scene with the Greek folks is really interesting, because it’s kind of a reversal of the story of Jesus calling his disciples at the beginning of John. Toward the end of chapter 1, Jesus goes to Philip (the same Philip from today’s reading) and says, “Follow me.” Then, Philip goes and tells Nathanael to “come and see.” And then Nathanael has an encounter with Jesus and becomes his disciple.

In today’s reading, the Greek folks approach Philip asking to see Jesus. Philip then goes and tells Andrew, and they approach Jesus.

Where Philip was approached by Jesus to become his disciple, the Greek folks approach Philip. They’re seeking out Jesus, instead of him seeking them. The Good News is getting out about the Beloved Community that Jesus is working toward. The message will spread throughout the world and will be embraced by a beautiful variety of people. The Beloved Community is big enough for everyone.

Do we live as if that’s true?

How do we show the inclusion of the Beloved Community today?

We, who are part of the whitest denomination in the United States, do we learn about cultures different from the one in which we grew up? Do we advocate for equal and equitable rights and dignities for people of every race and ethnicity?

We, who are part of a denomination that has ordained LGBTQ folks for 15 years, do we practice people’s pronouns and lift up and support LGBTQ leaders?

Do we say we want more children and families in the church and then get frustrated with the commotion that comes along with having real live children in worship? Or do we engage with people of different ages in church and get to know them as people—their interests, concerns, and hopes? Do we still engage with people who cannot physically attend our worship services but still want to be part of this faith community?

Do we get to know our pantry guests—learn names and ask about their families? Or do we just pat ourselves on the back for helping “those people over there”?

Jesus said in our reading today that, “Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also.” Jesus knew what the path ahead would lead to, and though his soul was troubled, he did not waver from his mission of expanding the inclusive Beloved Community. And he instructed his followers to do the same.

As we approach Holy Week, be mindful of the inclusion of the Beloved Community that Jesus was willing to die for. Engage with someone who is different from you. That person is a beloved child of God and is a human just like you. The connection you form with others is the fruit of the Beloved Community. It ripens when we die to our fears of awkwardness and of saying the wrong thing.

God’s love and inclusion is written on our hearts. God’s promises are full of love. Let that love shine forth in all that you do. Go, Holy Week and beyond, and love each other.

[1] John 14:12

Sermon onJohn 3:14-21

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

During Lent this year, our readings from the Hebrew Bible remind us of some of God’s promises.

We started by reading about God sending the rainbow as a permanent covenant of peace.

Two weeks ago, we read about God’s covenant with Abraham and Sarah: that their numerous descendants would be God’s people forever.

Last week, we read a third covenant: the 10 Commandments, which illustrate how God’s people will be in right relationship with God and other people.

This week, in both the Hebrew Bible reading and the Gospel we have stories of God intervening to bring healing.

In Numbers, the freed Israelites were wandering the wilderness and getting hangry. They started griping about God and Moses and the situation they were in.I don’t blame them—I’d be pretty stressed out if I were them. It’s so very human.

Do you notice how even their complaints contradict themselves? “For there is no food and no water, and we detest this miserable food.” It feels so much like when I open my closet full of clothes and go, “Ugh! I have nothing to wear!” How quickly we grow bored of what we have!

God had provided manna—divine food in the wilderness—for the Israelites, and yet they complained that there was no food and the food was miserable.

So very human. And that’s what sin is like—the sin that we are all subject to, that’s part of the human condition. Sin is missing the mark and curving in on oneself and turning against God. It’s a disruption of the relationship between humans and God, humans and each other, and humans and nature.

It's certainly not limited to the Israelites in the wilderness. That’s why Jesus referred to this story in the Gospel of John.

A religious leader named Nicodemus had come to see Jesus after dark to ask him some questions. Jesus gave him some confusing teachings about being born again or born from above, and Nicodemus wasn’t following. Then, Jesus alluded to our story in Numbers and used it to describe himself.

In our perpetual state of falling short and hurting each other, we humans couldn’t successfully maintain right relationship with God, other humans, and the earth. We couldn’t live up to the beautiful image of right relationship we talked about last week in the 10 Commandments and the rest of the Law. And we reap the consequences of those broken relationships.

I know our reading from Numbers says that God sent the serpents, and that’s troubling. I don’t believe a God of love who created the world and called it very good would do something so petty and vengeful. Surely complaining does not deserve death! That’s not the God of love that I know.

But God did create us as meaning-making creatures. It’s how we get art and science and so many amazing, beautiful things. But also, whenever there’s a natural disaster or a tragic accident, we start wondering if we did something to cause it.

From people cruelly theorizing that Hurricane Katrina was God’s punishment for people practicing the Voodoo religion in Louisiana to the mildly disturbing child’s rhyme about stepping on a crack will break your mother’s back, we make meaning about everything, but the conclusions we come to are not always true or helpful.

In our Numbers reading, I see meaning-making people interpreting the snake infestation as God’s punishment for their complaining and distrust of the God who rescued them from Egypt. This reinforced their distrust of God.

But the next thing the story says about God does line up with God’s character: God brought them healing. God told Moses to make a bronze serpent and put it on a pole so that anyone who was bitten by the poisonous snakes could look at it and be healed. There was no requirement to promise to stop complaining or even to apologize—they could just look at it and live. That’s our God. That’s the promise this week: a promise of healing.

And that’s the story Jesus pointed Nicodemus to when he was trying to explain who he was and why he was here. Nicodemus had come to see Jesus, thinking there might be something special about this guy but he wasn’t sure. Jesus tried to explain to him the kingdom of God, the Beloved Community, but Nicodemus was thinking too literally. So, Jesus used scripture to illustrate his mission to Nicodemus:

“just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.”

Jesus came so that we complaining, ungrateful humans who go around hurting each other could be healed. And Jesus went on to explain why and what that healing would look like. It’s John 3:16, one of the most famous verses in the whole Bible.

Why did God send Jesus? Because God loved the world—the whole cosmos.

How would that healing happen? By giving us complaining, ungrateful humans eternal life.

And contrary to how John 3:16 is often used to talk about individual salvation, John 3:17 goes on to say that Jesus was there so that “the world might be saved through [him].” Jesus was there to restore right relationship throughout the cosmos.

God became human in Jesus to bring healing and reconciliation to the whole world and everything in it.

That’s what Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection accomplished. And still, we don’t see it in its fullness yet. The Beloved Community is both now and not yet.

For now, we still complain and hurt each other, ourselves, and the earth.

One of the ways we do that is by breaking the Sabbath commandment. I’m not talking about being lax about upholding a specific 24-hour period of not doing specific things. I’m talking about when we don’t honor our need for rest, our neighbors’ need for rest, or the earth’s need for rest. It damages our relationships—the way that God created us to be in community.

I preached on this text the week before the 2020 stay-at-home orders. My internship congregation and I pondered how best to care for our neighbors in a time of COVID before we knew what that was going to mean.

I remember Facebook posts saying that if you didn’t use your two weeks of staying at home to flatten the curve to learn a new skill, write a book, or lift weights until you were ripped, you were lazy and undisciplined.

This, beloved, is “grind culture.” Grind culture is the opposite of Sabbath. Grind culture says that we are what we do, that we are not worthy unless we accomplish things.

It gives no grace for life circumstances, lack of resources, chronic physical or mental illness, or the ebbs and flows of being a human. It convinces us that if we are not operating at maximum capacity 24/7, that we are weak, lazy, and worthless.

It is a lie.

It wants to keep us exhausted, shame-filled, isolated, and striving to consume more and more in hopes that we will live up to its impossible and ever-changing standard.

During the stay-at-home order, we didn’t need to learn a new skill; we were navigating a frightening new reality. What we needed was healing, rest, and gentleness.

Grind culture will never let us have those things. It will continue to whisper in our ears that we are not enough.

Sabbath is how we quiet that voice. Sabbath gives us time and energy to listen to God instead. The voice of our God of love and healing says,

“I made you. I love you.

You don’t need to do anything to make me love you.

You are more than enough just as you are. You are my beloved child.”

God’s voice is always there telling you these things. It’s easier to hear it when we’re practicing Sabbath.

Practicing Sabbath will look really different for each of us and our life circumstances—whether we’re recovering from surgery, or going to school, or caring for loved ones, or working fulltime. And grind culture is everywhere, making it hard to practice rest.

But we’re not meant to do it alone. Jesus came to reconcile the whole world’s relationships. We’re not meant to be islands—we’re meant to be part of rich ecosystems that share and support each other. Church should be about living that out.

Grind culture resists that level of connection, because we’re supposed to be “self-made people” who can “pull ourselves up by our bootstraps.” But grind culture is full of lies.

Our God is Triune. Godself is a community of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. We are created in God’s relationship-loving image.

Jesus came for our healing, to restore the harmony God intended for creation from the beginning. He accomplished that healing in his life, death, and resurrection, and we will experience its fullness in the completion of the Beloved Community at the end of time.

As we await that completion, resist grind culture. Practice Sabbath. And look to Jesus, who was lifted up on a cross and rose again to reconcile the whole world that God loves so much. Look to him and live.