Sermon on John 20:19-23

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

“Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.”

“No one can say ‘Jesus is Lord’ except by the Holy Spirit.”

I’ve heard both of these verses from our Acts and 1 Corinthians readings used as litmus tests—ways to tell if people are really Christians, are really “saved.”

Then, our Gospel reading notes that the disciples had locked the door “for fear of the Jews,” even though they themselves were Jewish. The Gospel of John was written quite a few decades after the events it records—at a time when the movement of Jesus followers was trying to distinguish itself from the Jewish tradition it came from, instead of simply being a branch of Judaism. But it comes across as “us versus them.”

And then, Jesus told the disciples “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” That’s a lot of power for humans to hold, and it’s easy to read in a sense of either/or: either you’re forgiven or you’re not.

All of these bits of our readings sound exclusive. Either people are saved or they aren’t. Either they can say “Jesus is Lord” or they can’t, and therefore they must not have the Holy Spirit and aren’t “one of us.” And by “one of us,” we mean not part of the religious group we’re trying to distance ourselves from. And if you disagree with us, we won’t forgive you.

Christians have used verses like this to hurt people for centuries.

The early Jesus followers went from the lovely portrayal in the book of Acts that we read a few weeks ago about them selling what they had and sharing generously with each other so that none of them were in need…

…to becoming powerful and even deadly. Once Emperor Constantine adopted Christianity in 312 CE, Jesus followers went from being persecuted by the Roman Empire to having it on their side.

People have used verses like we read today to justify forcing people to convert to Christianity, killing them if they didn’t, taking their children to root out “pagan” cultures, enslaving people so they could be “saved,” legislating against people who don’t live according to whatever “Christian values” are in favor by people in power, and all kinds of other horrors.

The Crusades tried to “liberate” the Holy Land from the “heathens.”

Manifest Destiny justified land grabbing and genocide because “godless” people weren’t extracting enough profit from the land.

Fire and brimstone preaching has instilled fear into people’s hearts that they might not be “saved,”causing them to hate themselves for being gay or trans or for not wanting whatever life they’re feeling pressured to fit into. Or to inflict violence on others who don’t fit the mold of a “good Christian.”

Prosperity gospel, the popular idea that we can “name and claim” blessings from God and that God will protect us from anything unpleasant, has the shadowy underside that,when people aren’t cured of their chronic illness or a loved one dies or they lose their job or their spouse leaves them, they must not have prayed hard enough or in the right way or maybe God just doesn’t love them as much as other people.

The misuse of scripture kills people.

Christianity has become known for exclusion instead of for the peace Jesus brought to his disciples in our Gospel reading.

When faith becomes about deciding who’s in and who’s out, it’s no longer faith.

Fortunately, there’s more to our readings than just those misused verses.

Our Acts reading isn’t about who’s “saved,” but about God surprising us with who God abundantly includes.

When God sent the Holy Spirit, people from all over heardthe Good News of God’s love and new life in the language of their hearts. It was a miraculous sign of inclusion and the diversity of God’s Beloved Community.

And lest that sign be misunderstood, Peter got up and interpreted what had happened through the prophet Joel, who had said that when God brought the Holy Spirit, people of all kinds would prophesy, have visions, and dream: people of different ages and genders, both enslaved and free. And despite the scary things that would happen, God would save. It’s not about a litmus test to see who will call upon the name of the Lord, but a promise that God would save people, regardless of their “worthiness.”

In the same way, our 1 Corinthians reading isn’t about using “Jesus is Lord” as a litmus test to exclude people. It’s about the beautiful variety of God’s enormous family.In this section of the letter, Paul gave the Corinthians, who have been fighting among each other, advice about worship and community.

Because it’s Pentecost Sunday, our reading includes the second half of verse 3 because it mentions the Holy Spirit. Paul introduced the topic of spiritual gifts and wanted to help the Corinthians discern what messages were really from God. So,he reminded them that a message from God won’t say “Let Jesus be cursed,” and no one was going to say “Jesus is Lord” except through the Holy Spirit, because it was a political statement. It was a declaration of allegiance to Jesus instead of allegiance to Caesar by saying “Caesar is lord.”The Corinthians would be surprised by the variety of people saying “Jesus is Lord.”

Paul then went on to talk about the variety of gifts among the community of Jesus followers and how we need each other—all our gifts—to fully embody the Beloved Community.

This passage isn’t about turning away people who don’t say the specific words, “Jesus is Lord,” but about appreciating each other’s gifts as we make up the Body of Christ, which is larger and more beautiful than we imagine.

And our Gospel reading, despite the distance the writer of the Gospel of John wanted to put between his community and the wider Jewish community, is about Jesus bringing peace and forgiveness and hope even when we’ve locked ourselves away from the world.

The Gospel of John puts the giving of the Holy Spirit right after Jesus’ resurrection instead of at Pentecost, tying it narratively to new life.

Any fear Jesus’ disciples had that they might not have measured up because they ran away instead of staying with Jesus in his final hours were blown away with Jesus’ breath and the warmth of the Holy Spirit filling their hearts.

As for the part about forgiving and retaining sins, I’ll be honest that it perplexes me a bit. I believe God forgives sins, and it seems like too much power to be given to fallible mortals like us.

Perhaps it’s a teaching on the power of community—a community can inflict a scarlet letter that will be retained indefinitely or can offer forgiveness and bring someone back into the fold.

Whatever the case, it’s a responsibility not to be taken lightly. God offers us forgiveness and unconditional love, and that’s worthy of our gratitude every moment of every day.

That in itself is enough to show us that cherry picking the exclusive sounding verses from our readings isn’t life-giving.

God forgives, includes, and brings peace and community to the world. And as followers of Jesus, we get to use our varied gifts to show the world that love, forgiveness, and inclusion.

So, on this Pentecost Sunday, as we remember God pouring out the Holy Spirit onto the early community of Jesus followers, instituting the Church, full of fumbling, beloved people with all their gifts and failings, hold these questions in your heart:

1.    What are the prophecies, dreams, and visions the Holy Spirit brings us today?

2.    How can we be bridgebuilders with our siblings of different faith traditions and no particular faith tradition to bless the world with our varied gifts?

3.    How can we approach the world with peace and unity in our hearts?

4.    How can we let God breathe through us?

Beloved of God, take a breath with me: breathe in God’s love for you and breathe out God’s love for the world. Put your hand on your heart and feel the beat of the Holy Spirit.

Peace be with you.

Sermon on John 17:1-11

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

Today is the final Sunday of the Easter season, which begins with Jesus rising from the dead and concludes with Jesus rising into the sky. We’ve been lighting the Pascal candle each week to remind us of Jesus’ physical post-resurrection presence on earth.

Next week, we’ll celebrate Pentecost, when tongues of flame instead adorned the foreheads of Jesus’ followers, who were to carry Jesus’ message throughout the world.

But the story of Jesus’ ascension is strange. His poor disciples had just received their risen rabbi back from the dead a mere few weeks before, and then Jesus led them to a mountain, where he levitated up into the clouds.

As unexpected as the resurrection was, the disciples surely didn’t expect Jesus to be taken away from them again so soon. He wouldn’t be there to guide them and teach them in the way they were used to. They were losing their friend and rabbi all over again.

No wonder they had to be prompted by divine messengers to stop looking at the clouds. They were probably in shock and starting to feel the waves of grief all over again. It would be easy to succumb to despair and return to fishing or whatever else they had done before their time with Jesus. It’s a strange way to end the Easter season.

This year’s Easter season and the previous season of Lent, we’ve been focusing on creation care.

1.    Throughout Lent, welamented our broken relationship with the earth.

2.    We’ve discussed microplastics and considered the impact of our decisions on seven generations into the future.

3.    We had handouts with creation care challenges for the Lenten season.

4.    We toured our local landfill and will tour our water district this coming week.

5.    We used local rosemary branches to signify remembrance for Palm Sunday.

6.    Throughout Easter, we’ve been celebrating that we have a God of new life.

7.    We blessed our pets past and present.

8.    We’ve been talking about hope and community and how to live even when hope is hard to find.

We’ve come a long way. Our challenge now is not to go back to old habits and ways of understanding.

It would be easy to check off the creation care box as “done” and move on, forgetting everything we’ve talked about and experienced.

We could do our best to numb ourselves to assuage our guilt at choosing a less expensive option that will do more damage to the planet. We could unsubscribe fromnewsletters from environmental organizations to shield ourselves from bad news. We could let our reusable bags and thermoses collect dust in our closets and cabinets.

Like the disciples who could have gone back to fishing after Jesus’ ascension, we could try to go back to the way we were before Ash Wednesday. It would be more convenient to live like nothing we do will make a difference.

But if all of the disciples had done that, we wouldn’t be here today in this room, worshiping our risen Savior.

They didn’t stay craning their necks at the sky. They didn’t go back to fishing or tax collecting or whatever they were doing before they started following Jesus.

What did they do instead?

They got together and they prayed.

Jesus had promised the Holy Spirit, but she hadn’t arrived yet (we’ll get to that next week).

In the meantime, they stayed together—men, women, anyone who had been following Jesus. They needed community with each other.

And the prayed—they needed community with God as well.

They trusted that God was still with them, that they weren’t alone even though Jesus had ascended.

Jesus wasn’t just sitting up in the clouds somewhere. He was still with them, because they were the Body of Christ. He prayed in our Gospel reading the night before he was killed that they would be one as he and God the Father are one. Jesus wasn’t physically with them in the same way, but he was still with them, because God is everywhere. There’s nowhere God isn’t. God hadn’t abandoned them or this world and never will.

So, they gathered together and prayed, continuing to learn from and be strengthened by their beloved rabbi, their Savior, their God, as they waited for the Holy Spirit to make God known to them in a new way.

That same Holy Spirit dwells in us. That same God still loves this world and will never abandon it. We are part of that same Body of Christ that gathered and prayed.

That’s what we do every week. That’s what we’re here to do today. We meet together as the Body of Christ to proclaim that God is here, wherever we are, because God is everywhere.

Even as we face the difficulties of this world, we continue to love it, because God loves it and delights in it and us. Our hope isn’t in some puffy clouds and pearly gates, because God is right here with us now. We don’t have to wait to see God—we can see God in Creation and in each other.

And so we gather together and pray, talking to the Creator of the universe, listening to the Holy Spirit, and embodying our Savior.

When we leave this room, we don’t go back to the way we were before we came in. Sure, we return to our jobs and our homes and our families and our volunteer positions, but we go back changed. Maybe a little more peaceful. Maybe a little less settled. Maybe comforted. Maybe challenged. Maybe all of the above. The Holy Spirit doesn’t work in neat categories.

In the same way, hopefully these seasons of dwelling with the concept of creation care have changed you in some tiny way. Don’t go back to the way you were. There’s no way to get straight A’s in living an environmentally friendly life—we don’t have to and, indeed, can’t get this “right.”

But we can strive to love the world a little more each day, to see it like God sees it. We can keep learning and trying new things and encouraging each other on the way. We need each other. No individual can make enough of a difference on their own. It’s why God gave us each other. It’s why we need Beloved Community, which encompasses all the family of life. We are the Body of Christ together, loving the cosmos traced with God’s fingertips. We can’t do this on our own, and thank God, we don’t have to.

After all, in case you forgot what Pastor Jaz reminded us: hope is a group project.

So, let yourself be changed, and love God with all that you are, and love this planet and all our neighbors of all species as you love yourself.

Sermon on John 14:15-21

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

As we start wrapping up our creation care theme for Lent and Easter this year, there’s a lot that still feels heavy.

The world’s problems feel so big.

Climate change and ecological overshoot feel inevitable.

Wars feel unstoppable.

Overconsumption feels overwhelming.

There’s an island of plastic in the Pacific Ocean twice the size of Texas.[1]

Of the 292.4 million tons of Municipal Solid Waste that were generated in the US in 2018, only about a third of it was recycled or composted.[2]And that was one of the more optimistic figures I found.

We breathe in and consume the equivalent of a credit card amount of microplastics at least every year.[3]

In the hard moments, sometimes it feels like the best we can hope for is that things won’t get unbearable before our lives end.Maybe if I can maintain a reasonably comfortable lifestyle during my lifetime, I guess that’ll be okay.

But we know that’s not enough. We care about people who are younger than us. We care about future generations. We care about this beautiful planet we’re blessed to live on. We want our kids and grandkids and great-grandkids to be able to enjoy the natural world we grew up with. We want them to camp in picturesque forests and make sandcastles on clean beaches. We want them not just to survive but thrive. We want humanity to thrive. We want the natural world to thrive. We want the Earth to thrive.

But sometimes that feels like too much to hope for. The world’s problems feel too big to fix. It can feel like it’s all up to us to save the world, and it’s already too late—that all hope is lost. It can feel lonely on this little planet in the depths of space.

When Jesus was giving his farewell discourse in our Gospel reading, he knew his disciples were about to feel alone after his death. What could he say that would comfort his followers after he was gone and give them hope?

And Paul sensed a longing for something more as he was walking around Athens. In our reading from Acts, he gave a speech on a hill named for Ares, the god of war, near the temple to Athena, the goddess of wisdom, which they used as a courtroom.

Hespoke of their religious practice and the way it pervaded their life (including politics, considering the location where he gave his speech). He told them about finding an altar “to an unknown god.” Whether they were just covering their bases or earnestly seeking something beyond their knowledge, Paul wanted to address their desire for something more. What could he say that would be compelling to the Athenians? What would give them hope?

The answer to what could bring hope that both Paul and Jesus gave was God’s presence.

Jesus promised his disciples that he wouldn’t leave them orphaned. He would send the Holy Spirit to comfort and inspire them. Jesus said, “On that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you.”Through the giving of the Holy Spirit, his disciples were brought into relationship with the dance of the Trinity.

Followers of Jesus are part of the web of all life, breathed into existence and sustained by God. Though they would certainly grieve Jesus’ physical presence no longer being with them in the same way, his followers would be intimately connected with God beyond any possible separation. They would never be alone.

And the Athenians Paul addressed could be brought into that same communion, never having to wonder what higher power was worthy of their love. This was a God not confined to human constructions, but a creative God beyond our imaginings.God permeates everything—we’re inside God not God inside human made altars, temples, or other holy places.

Far from an “unknown god,” the God Paul worshiped is the Knowing God, intimately present and concerned with everything and everybody that exists. The Athenians could recognize their place in the web of life and relationship with God that Jesus told his disciples about.

In the face of loneliness, grief, and uncertainty, God provided hope.

And God still provides hope, even in the face of the world’s many and deep problems.

It can feel like we humans have messed everything up so badly that God wouldn’t even want to be present in the world, but that’s not how it is. The same God who was present with the disciples and the Athenians is with us in our grief and confusion.

God hasn’t given up on us or this planet, and neither should we.

I usually try not to make a huge deal out of Mother’s Day or Father’s Day at church, because while they’re beautiful and meaningful holidays for many people, they can also be extremely painful holidays for others for a multitude of reasons.

But I do think the image of Mother God or Parent God could be something we need when facing the enormity of the world’s problems. Mother God doesn’t shy away from the pain or danger. Mother God cares for this planet and specifically for you no matter what. There’s nothing too big or scary for us to bring to her. She’s seen it all and loves you anyway. She’s eager to help when we ask and even when we don’t know how or what to ask as we seek to love her creation too.

I found this short poem this week by Fred LaMotte, which speaks to the importance of ordinary people continuing to live in hope of a better world and embodying the love of Mother God:

This planet will not
be healed
by powerful politicians
in big cities
who spend trillions
on a global strategy
that never quite begins.
They also burn
much fuel.
Earth will be healed
by villagers
who sing,
by backyard gardeners
like you,
who walk more slowly
right here,
who feel the green
through bare soles,
speaking fewer words,
cradling
each others anger
like mothers,
awakening
the heirloom seeds
of the heart.

 

It can feel lonely on this planet, like it’s already too late to hope for something better. It’s okay if hope feels far away. Our Mother God is still with you, holding you in your grief, fear, and confusion.

In the times you do feel hope, share it with others. Our reading from 1 Peter advises to “always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you.” This was important for people being persecuted for following Jesus. This passage encourages Jesus followers to hold fast to their values and make sure their behavior is beyond reproachin a culture so hostile to their faith.

Our daily life is very different from theirs, but it’s still important to be able to give an account for the hope that is in us. Certainly, being able to respectfully share why Jesus matters to you with someone who doesn’t share your faith is a good thing. And also, being able to share whatever hope you have with each other can help us keep hope alive in challenging times.

We need each other’s hope, because hope isn’t always easy to find. It’s part of why we need community. Today, you might be feeling down, and maybe the poem I shared gave you hope that ordinary people can actually make the world a better place. Tomorrow, I might not be feeling hopeful, so I need you to tell me about your grandchild organizing a tree planting event for their Eagle Scout project.

We need the hope that is in each other. As Jesus told his disciples, we are part of the unity of God, and the Holy Spirit lives in us, comforting and inspiring us with hope for a new day. Let the love of Mother God embrace you, and then wrap your arms around the world.


[1]https://theoceancleanup.com/great-pacific-garbage-patch/

[2]https://www.epa.gov/facts-and-figures-about-materials-waste-and-recycling/frequent-questions-regarding-epas-facts-and

[3] Total Garbage book