Sermon on Luke 24:36b-48

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

Today, we’re going to do a little bit of a time warp back to Easter Sunday.Some women disciples went to Jesus’ tomb to care for his body but found instead two dazzling divine messengers.

They told the men disciples, who didn’t believe them, except for Peter, who went to see the empty tomb for himself.

Two other disciples started traveling to the nearby village of Emmaus, when they encountered a stranger on the road. As the sun set, they invited him to eat with them, and as he gave thanks for the bread and broke it, they realized it had been Jesus all along! He disappeared from their sight, and they ran back to Jerusalem to tell the other disciples.

They were just finishing their tale, when Jesus appeared in their midst, and that is where our Gospel story begins today.

With the whole having been dead and the random disappearing and reappearing thing, it’s no wonder the disciples thought they were seeing a ghost. If we weren’t so familiar with the Easter stories, this would have the makings of a good ghost tale.

Even as Jesus invited them to touch him, they still weren’t completely convinced that he wasn’t a ghost.

So, he asked them for a snack and ate some broiled fish in front of them. Surely a ghost doesn’t need to eat.

Only then did the disciples seem convinced and calmed down enough for Jesus to get down to business, explaining to them everything that had happened.

It matters that Jesus had a body, and not just because ghosts are spooky.

It matters for Christmas, and it matters for Easter.

At Christmas, we remember that God became one of us—a fragile, human being who needed milk and diaper changes, who skinned his knees as he learned to walk, who laughed and played and grew and questioned.

At Easter, we remember that even though Jesus died an excruciating, humiliating human death, the power of death didn’t stop him. It wasn’t that his spirit transcended bodily form—he was resurrected with a body. He wasn’t a ghost or a spirit or a hologram. He was the incarnated God, God in the flesh, just as he had always been.

That matters because it tells us that the physical world matters to God.

That might not actually sound like good news, considering climate change and ecological disasters and shrinking animal habitats and extinction and all the plastic we use that doesn’t break down for hundreds of years.

If the physical world didn’t matter to God, we could just use up Earth’s resources and spend our time having good theological conversations without worrying about how humanity’s actions affect the world we live in.

But the physical world does matter to God, so it’s important that we don’t get stuck in our heads.

Lutherans have a strong tradition of education and careful thought, and that’s a beautiful thing.

But it also means we sometimes get a little head-oriented. We tend to ignore our bodies or even think of them as bad, sinful, or selfish. We tend to mistrust what our bodies tell us—things like “I need food” or “I need rest” or “The air quality is making me sick.”

In our highly-educated, Enlightenment-informed tradition, we tend to be suspicious of our spirituality or anything that comes across as too “woo-woo.” Because of that, we tend to ignore our intuition, we tend to focus on heady Bible studies and ignore spiritual practices. We can miss out on what the Holy Spirit is saying to us.

There are many gifts that deep thought and critical thinking bring us. But if we remain solely in our heads, we miss out on what our spirits and bodies are telling us. They have wisdom, too, and we’re not getting the whole picture unless we engage our heads, our spirits, and our bodies.

When Jesus was asked what the greatest commandment was, he replied, “’You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind and your neighbor as yourself.’”[1]We can love God, and therefore our neighbors, our selves, and our world, with our whole selves.

When we become disconnected from our whole selves, we become disconnected from the Earth on which we live.

Our world which God created is suffering for our lack of connection to it. When humanity ignores creation for the sake of the bottom line or our convenience or our comfort, we are also ignoring our call to be stewards of the Earth.

This problem is way bigger than any of us individually, but without the actions of individuals, nothing will change.

In our Gospel story, we see Jesus reassuring his disciples that he is flesh and blood like they are, made of the organic material God created with such loving care. And once they’re calmer, he uses scripture to explain to them what happened.

But the story doesn’t end there. Jesus settled their spirits, opened their minds, and then sent them out to be his witnesses to the world.

It wasn’t enough to sigh in relief that Jesus wasn’t a ghost or revel in their newfound understanding. They had a mission to connect people with this story. It would take all of their heart, soul, strength, and mind, because sharing their story was borne of their love for God.

What form of loving God with all your heart, soul, strength, and mind is God be calling you to?

On this day before Earth Day, might loving God and loving your neighbor take the form of loving our Earth a little better?

Just as Jesus equipped his disciples to love God and neighbor by sharing their stories of Jesus, God equips us to speak and act in support of creation.

Easter is a “no” to death and a big “yes” to life.

Jesus came back in a body, because material things matter to God, and if we only think people’s souls matter, then we’re forgetting that God delights in creation and calls it good.

We’re forgetting that God instituted the Sabbath, sabbatical years, and the year of Jubilee to provide rest and enjoyment of creation.

We’re forgetting that we are beings created in love by God out of the mud of the Earth, and that God chose to become a mud creature too—the very Jesus who ate fish with the disciples in today’s story.

God instituted water for baptism and bread and wine for communion—material things to help us feel connected to the spiritual.

What do polluted waters mean for baptism?

What do pesticides and unfair agricultural labor practices mean for communion?

What does that have to do with us?

Everything.

Humanity’s disconnection from the Earth is bigger than any one of us, but change is often made by small actions that add up.

James Baldwin said, “Not everything that is faced can be changed. But nothing can be changed until it is faced.”

What is one small thing you can do today to care for the Earth?

Take some time this week to ground yourself in your body—stand on some dirt, feel your feet press into the Earth—and ask God to guide you.

Jesus equipped his disciples to share their Easter stories.

God will equip you to share your stories of new life, too.

[1]Luke 10:27

Sermon onJohn 20:19-31

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

“Peace be with you.”

These are Jesus’ first words to these fearful disciples.

Mary Magdalene had already told them about the risen Jesus.

Maybe they didn’t believe her—admittedly, it was a pretty wild story. Or maybe they were afraid of what Jesus would say when they saw him. Most of Jesus’ disciples had, after all, not stayed with him as he died.

Instead of going out looking for Jesus after hearing Mary’s testimony, they locked themselves in a room, fearing they would suffer the same death Jesus had—and maybe feeling ashamed that they had abandoned him.

But when Jesus inexplicably appeared within that locked room, he did not shame them or scold them.

He brought them peace.

This wasn’t peace as a mere laying down of weapons or “agreeing to disagree.” It also wasn’t Pax Romana, Roman peace, that was enforced by the edge of a sword.

Shalom, God’s peace, is a state of well-being in community when people are in right relationship with God and each other. It means something closer to “justice” than a mere absence of war. It’s the Jubilee we talked about earlier this year.

It’s the Beloved Community Jesus had been talking about all along.

Jesus could have given up on his disciples who had abandoned him in his suffering, but instead, he sought them out and brought them peace.

He also brought them the Holy Spirit. He breathed his living breath onto those disciples. The Greek word for “breath” also means “spirit,” just as the Hebrew word for “spirit” also means “wind” or “breeze.” There are plays on words in both testaments about “spirit.”

The Gospel of John doesn’t have an account of Pentecost like Acts does, so this is where John marks the receiving of the Holy Spirit. Jesus is equipping his disciples to continue his mission.

He greets them with a word of peace and breathes the Holy Spirit on them, the breath of life. Then, he talks to them about forgiveness.

A lot has been made over the centuries of Jesus saying, “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”I’m not going to pretend to know the exact mechanics of this.

Still, if we look at Jesus’ teachings overall, forgiveness seems pretty important.But also, a lot of damage has been done by people with authority demanding that victims and vulnerable people forgive their abusers and oppressors. If there’s a situation on your heart, and you’d like a sounding board, I’m here for you.

What I see in this story is that when Jesus talks about forgiveness, he goes first. He forgives his fearful disciples for abandoning him. Then, he forgives Thomas, who insisted on having the same experience of Jesus the other disciples had.

It’s like Jesus is saying, “As you continue to carry my message of the Beloved Community into the world, don’t forget that I washed your feet, I fed you, I forgave you, I equipped you with the Holy Spirit. Now, pass it on!”

That’s not easy—for them or for us.

Even with Jesus’ example of forgiveness and peace, there is so much pain in the world.

Violence in Israel and Gaza, Ukraine, Sudan, Haiti, starvation in Nigeria, not to mention a contentious election year in our own country—that only scratches the surface of the world’s conflict and suffering. It’s heart-breaking and overwhelming.

It’s way easier to stay in our lovely, historic sanctuary and think about how much we love God than it is to go out and show people that we love God.

But Jesus didn’t equip the disciples just to have them stay in that locked room.

We see in our reading from Acts an idyllic image of the Beloved Community enacted by the early Jesus followers:

“Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common. With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all. There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. They laid it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need.”

They shared their goal of Beloved Community, they shared their resources, they shared the story of Jesus. This is a beautiful picture of God’s shalom, the peace Jesus brought to the disciples in that locked room.

Of course, it didn’t last long—there were disagreements among Jesus followers pretty much from the beginning, and that hasn’t stopped. But it also doesn’t negate the sprouts of the Beloved Community that were growing among them and that we can nurture too.

Jesus breathed the Holy Spirit on his first disciples, our ancestors in faith, and the Holy Spirit lives in us, too.

The thing about Spirit, or breath, or wind, is that we can’t see it (unless we exhale when it’s really cold), but we can see its effects. We can see the wind moving through the leaves of a tree or the rising and falling of someone chest.

People can’t see the Holy Spirit, but they can see us and what we do in God’s name. They can see when we build up the Beloved Community, and they can see when we act, well, less than Christ-like. That’s not to say we have to pretend to be perfect—people can definitely see through that. But people can also see when our actions are motivated by peace and a spirit of forgiveness and love for our neighbors.

Counterintuitively, sometimes the way we build up the Beloved Community is through rest. Sometimes we need restful practices to make us feel like humans again and to restore our peace, spirit of forgiveness, and love.

I have a colleague whose congregation can tell when she hasn’t made time to go swimming in the morning.Our spirits dim when we don’t make time for things that fill our cups.

Sabbath practices aren’t there just so we can work harder the other six days of the week, but they do restore us, realign us, and help us love our neighbors better. Rest makes room for joy.

And our world needs joy. Our world needs your joy. The world needs the Spirit that breathes in you to share that joy with the people around you.

Out of that joy, you can work with God to build up the Beloved Community and make this suffering world a little more like it is in heaven.

Jesus gave us his example of forgiveness and peace, equips us with the breath of the Holy Spirit, and invites us to take that peace and joy into the world he created and loves.Say to the world, “Peace be with you.”

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