March 22, 2015 John 12:20-33

Now among those who went up to worship at the festival were some Greeks. They came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and said to him, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus.” Philip went and told Andrew; then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus. Jesus answered them,

“The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. 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. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also. Whoever serves me, the Father will honor.

“Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say—‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour. Father, glorify your name.”

Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again.”

The crowd standing there heard it and said that it was thunder. Others said, “An angel has spoken to him.”

Jesus answered, “This voice has come for your sake, not for mine. Now is the judgment of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” He said this to indicate the kind of death he was to die.

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There are some sermons where I want to show you something, perhaps teach, perhaps even challenge the way you think, but for today, I hope you can see how you are already doing what this passage asks. For you who already do so much, sometimes my hope is that you simply can see your service reflected back to you. Sometimes, I just hope, in the busyness and pressure to always do more, that perhaps you are doing enough.

I see it in my neighbor who walks across the street as the woman recently widowed pulls into her drive, just checking in, showing some company, some community. I see it in the board at MayDay trying to understand, not just a system of domestic violence, but how to help one person. I see it in the Women’s Support Group’s willingness to fill Easter Eggs, double bag plastic bag backpacks, and plan meals for the April Presbytery Meeting. I see it in Annalea’s consistent presence with our youth, from Wednesdays, to Sunday mornings, to trips and sporting events. I see it in Mark and Betsy taking their grandkids to Hawaii, giving up a peaceful vacation, to show the kids a new place, and give them new eyes. I see it in Kyra, working with Michelle and Kourtney to pick colors for the Ingram room. I see it in Luke’s excitement about the conference he is attending this weekend and the ideas he wants to bring back. I see it in each of you, the Greeks have come, saying, “We wish to see Jesus,” and rather than be merely just one seed, you begin to plant.

There are other things you could be doing, a million errands to run, chores to finish, and business to which to get back. For Andrew and Phillip, there are many followers wondering what will be the next meal, what will be the next place to sleep, there are a million questions to ask Jesus, and back home so many fish to catch. But they stop for these outsiders, these Greeks have come, saying, “We wish to see Jesus.” The Greeks do not feel culturally that they can simple go look, and Phillip doesn’t know either. So, Phillip seeks out Andrew, together they tell Jesus, and Jesus welcomes the Greeks, saying not only may they come and see, but they should also follow. In so doing each of them, the Greeks, Philip, Andrew and Jesus point to a ministry that is bigger then themselves, a ministry of service. I see this in each of you so often, Lynn down in the basement on a Friday morning prepping for Backpack, his truck so often present at the side door giving up so much of his retirement to serve kids and the church, a grain of wheat planting a field. Carolyn’s quiet welcome both to those in the community and the church by her awareness of others and resources of things they would enjoy. Gary Ball heading up the Food Bank and the youth and church adults scampering about with boxes and directions, two rice, one soup, three canned veggies. Bill Fessel making lunch and Tanya O’Neal to be a Cottie College Freshman and Pat and alum pouring over a Cottiee College photo album, “They still have meals in that dorm.” Nanette’s classroom this week, and a kid up sharing in front of the class while others ask questions, practicing public speaking, and sharing as a part of creating community, some kids being reminded to end speaking, others encouraged to share as they nervously make bigger a hole in their shirt. I think of Katya’s God moment this week where her music director was brought to tears at the beauty of her playing.

Looked around for more examples in the congregation...

These, each of us, a single grain, giving oneself over to bear greater fruit. For 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. You are a community that bears much fruit. In so doing, Jesus can be seen, and the people served, the community is made a harvest, God is glorified.

March 15, 2015 John 2:13–22

The Passover of the Jews was near, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. In the temple he found people selling cattle, sheep, and doves, and the money changers seated at their tables. Making a whip of cords, he drove all of them out of the temple, both the sheep and the cattle. He also poured out the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. He told those who were selling the doves, “Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace!”

His disciples remembered that it was written, “Zeal for your house will consume me.”

The Jews then said to him, “What sign can you show us for doing this?”
Jesus answered them, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.”
The Jews then said, “This temple has been under construction for forty-six years, and will you raise it up in three days?” But he was speaking of the temple of his body.

After he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said this; and they believed the scripture and the word that Jesus had spoken.
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Announcements are a practicality with which every church has to deal. If you have to tell people communication seven times for them to remember, printing it in the bulletin, the newsletter, and the weekly blast, doesn't seem to be enough. Some churches put announcements at the end of worship, as they go out to serve they provide a final reminder. When I came, we moved announcements from the middle of worship toward the front. Other churches omit them all together, with the idea that they feel un-worshipful. I admit, they, and our popcorn Prayer Requests, do seem to sometimes feel a discombobulated hodgepodge in the middle of our liturgy, one congregant once aptly named them, “glorified gossip hour.” This secular feeling is why we wait to light the Christ candle until we’ve gone through the calendar, and its especially why I specifically ask, “Are there any more CHURCH announcements?” Others have said, we could be here all day if each one in the congregation announced their concert, their fundraiser, their sporting game, their charity event.” It is true, as congregants, you are not lacking for outside community involvement; do you remember all the pennants two Pentecost’s ago, about how you served the church, the community, and the world, announcements could take days, “Announcements, announcements, announcements, a terrible death to die, a terrible death to die, a terrible death to be talk to death, a terrible death to die.” I was told that in a small town coming to church was one way to know what was going on in the community, but I wonder if what is going on in the community is always church. I think Jesus, also in frustration, is asking this question.

One could argue that the money changers provide a necessary service for the foreigners who have come for Passover, and as part of that religious festival, the observers needed to buy cattle sheep and doves to make sacrifices. Likewise, one could argue, that our choirs or orchestras are playing Christmas hymns, practice in our building, and include many members of the congregation, and therefore it is a legitimate church announcement, and while this may be true, whenever it happens, I try not to look annoyed, (I am not so much one for turning over tables or cracking a whip, through their was that one day I lost it during over-detailed prayer requests and I did put both my hands on my head in exasperation- not my best day). I think this might have been one of Jesus’ worst because he too has a freak out moment. Jesus is getting rid of announcements entirely, but unlike me, who wonders if community announcements are worshipful, Jesus is wondering if worship is enough in the community. Jesus is questioning the sacrifices of cattle, and sheep, and oxen, and instead he is demanding sacrifices of service to the community. He wants choir concerts that sing to more than the priests, he wants congregants showing up at middle and high school basketball games, he wants us serving food and bidding at preschool fundraisers. Jesus wants to turn over the system of temple worship which is not set up to serve God, but instead to serve thee. For Jesus this is worship, this is sacrifice, the community is the temple.
Jesus is wanting the temple to become the community, for worship to become our service. “Destroy the temple and I will raise it up.”
At the center of such theological statements is the fundamental question of God’s location, which will be confirmed in the dialogue between Jesus and the Jewish authorities.

March 8, 2014 Mark 4:26-34 Mustard Seed

He also said, “The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground, and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come.”

He also said, “With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.”

With many such parables he spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it; he did not speak to them except in parables, but he explained everything in private to his disciples.

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Whenever I move to a new place, which I have done a lot in the last fifteen years, I tell myself it takes a year to have friends, and it takes two to have good friends. Now having been here four years, which is longest I have been somewhere since college, I am discovering a new phenomenon. After four years, you have a lot of friends, and a handful of good ones.

When I first came, First Friday, like the Y, or Anthony, was one of those places, where, I was like, “Oh, here are all the young people,” and I wondered how to get to know them, and become a part, rather than a witness. Well, after not having gone for awhile, I walked around with my friend Anne, and it felt like introduction after introduction of friends and acquaintances to her, and though in the church context, I am used to connecting people, in the community, it felt like the first time I was consistently introducing rather than being introduced. I knew people from different places, some were church members, others neighbors, many were friends of friends, who had then become my friends as well. It was web that stretched out, or perhaps a mustard plant. I remembered the times when these introductions were mustard seeds, where I was new to town, and had a rule where if I had the tinge of, ‘I think she and I would be friends,’ I had to ask them, right then, if they wanted hang to hang out sometime. I wasn’t allowed to wait until the next time, wasn’t allowed to let it happen organically, like a scattered seed. I told myself, instead I had to sew it if I wanted it to grow. There were some funny exchanges, some which lasted, some which didn’t, some which changed. Looking back, I have both sewn friendships, but most are those that came from scattered seeds. It will be years before I go somewhere else, but I will remember that friendship doesn't always count on my rising day and night, to watch the seed sprout and grow.

I look at our congregation likewise, upon arrival there were many things I knew needed some work, but wisely, seminarians are told to wait, some say three years, before making any changes. I am not that patient, but the patience I did have allowed me to see your strengths that have been foundational to working toward change. You embrace a diversity of thought in a familial community, and you care for one another and are gracious from the core of your being. You love and welcome youth and children without judgement and you also have servants hearts. We are slowly becoming more organized, and with it more functional, and our leadership in this time, is outstanding, as are our volunteers, but it makes sense to me that what is growing and giving us life, are ministries rooted in those core strengths, of care, of embracing children and youth, and of extending servant hearts. That a youth can come to Open Door when life is rough at home, and find an adult with whom to talk, and other youth to serve her special special smoothies. That our youth group can randomly give out Valentines, like scattered seeds, and with Hershey kisses and doorbells can bring back to church congregants, for whom planting and sewing had only yielded pieces. That once a month Fellowship Hour with its O’Hana events has us telling stories, both whoppers at the Washington and the Cherry Tree Event, and deep personal stories at the Cross the Line Event. These ministries take a lot of sewing, a lot of planting and watching over, but I think as a congregation of doers, we tend to forget that God is also scattering seeds, and we become surprised when it happens without intentionality from us.

The mustard seed, in biblical times, was considered a weed, and likewise, I have many times heard worry about all there is to be done in the church, and in the world. There are so many mouths to feed, so many church policies to be written, so many volunteers to be found. There will be burnout, we will run out of leadership, congregations are dying across the Untied States. Perhaps, this mentality is the what makes the kingdom of God a weed, when we try to take it all upon ourselves, and look only at the need, rather than the yield. What if, before we asked, who might help get food for Open Door or Backpack, or Bread of Life Food Bank, we first thought
of the hundreds of bellies this congregation feeds. Lynn once talked about the course of one backpack, there were so many hands, and I watch an image of them on Wednesday nights, when the youth reluctantly push back their chairs, and stand and then begin the race of boxes down the stairs, and then Melissa comes with fruit and Maddie and Alex get out to, ‘help,’ and Alex sometimes gets to play a game of air hockey with the big kids. What if we counted those hands rather than just the need, what we also we counted the ways that in the service pushing back their chairs, or sharing an air hockey game, that God is at work, scattering seeds not just in food for that week, but in future leaders, who will know the value of hard work, and also joyful play. What if our awe at the bounty of God at work, was the place from which we started and the image that we used to judge our progress?

The scripture tells us that in this mustard shrub and its large branches the birds of the air can make nests in its shade. The kingdom of God is not measured by the places where the sun is still stark. It is measured by the places which create shade for the nests of birds, it is measured by the harvest. Let us not judge ourselves, in this church, or outside of it, nor let us judge the world by the work left to be done, that is the weed. Let us instead witness the kingdom in the harvest that makes a home, be it an O’Hana Event, a Valentine, a plastic bag backpack, a smoothie, or a First Friday.

December 21, 2015 Luke 1:26-38

In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin's name was Mary.  And the angel came to her and said, "Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you." But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. The angel said to her, 

"Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end." 

Mary said to the angel, "How can this be, since I am a virgin?" The angel said to her, 

"The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God. And now, your relative Elizabeth in her old age has also conceived a son; and this is the sixth month for her who was said to be barren. For nothing will be impossible with God." 

Then Mary said, "Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word." Then the angel departed from her.

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There are a lot of ways to interpret this scripture, but I am afraid, we have settled on one, and stuck with it, perhaps beyond its usefulness and certainly into its misuse. We have come to believe that to read this text as anything but, ‘The Annunciation of the Immaculate Conception,’ is heresy, but maybe heresy is believing that these scriptures have only one story to tell. Maybe heresy is as simple and as common as Christmas cards with a peaceful mother gazing lovingly at her child. Maybe heresy is as as simple and as common as crowning Mary with halos in nativities and auras in paintings. Maybe heresy is as simple and as common as the carols we sing this day. But I believe this Mary story isn't as simple as, “With Mary we behold it, the virgin mother kind.” It shouldn't be as common as, “Then gentle Mary meekly bowed her head,” and I highly doubt a pregnant fifteen year old is, “in her maiden bliss.” But these are our images, images that tell us Mary’s worth is defined by her womb, be it her perceived virginity, or her idealized motherhood, images that herald women for being meek, and mild, and kind, ‘servants,’ or ‘slaves.’ I happen to think these images are problematic, ‘The Annunciation of The Immaculate Conception,’ tragic, and for there only to be one interpretation - heresy. 

For if we are to find ourselves in this ancient story, and our stories are as diverse as number of hairs on our head, then there must be more interpretations then we could ever count, more Mary’s then we could ever know, and one of them is standing here preaching. I am version of Mary. Now don't start picturing me with some vail and subservient answer; you know me better than that. But begin to picture a Mary who knows what is to have no choice over her own body, and there you will find the lens by which I interpret this scripture. For me this is not a feel-good-story, and as much as I have tried in recent weeks, and over the years, I can read this text in no other way. 

So if you wanted this day a beautiful Christmas message, I apologize, but if you are willing to stay one week longer in this Advent waiting time, and peer into the darkness of the season, to the flesh of our own stories, then you just might find a version of Mary to which you can relate, a light in the darkness, the Word made flesh and dwelling among us.

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The scripture begins, “The angel Gabriel was sent by God to a virgin, engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin's name was Mary.”

I would like to think that Mary wanted this visitor, that she had been talking to God, and waiting at the window, hoping like a child for predicted snow, or a youth for her first date, or a homebound woman for a visit from a friend, but I am afraid it wasn’t like this. I am afraid Mary had no part in the plan, and I am afraid she was used to subordination. At fifteen, she was, “a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David.”  At fifteen her parents had already arranged her marriage and all we know about Joseph’s suitability is his name and linage, not if there was love, or compatibility, or even kindness. At fifteen she had no dreams of school, or job of her desiring, or of falling in love with the man her choosing. And I pray Joseph was only a couple years her elder, because some sources say he may have been as many as twenty, and just this week people have pretended that it was okay for a fifteen year old to be engaged to a thirty-five-year-old, ‘because that was culture of the time.’ I ask you what fifteen year old would you encourage to marry? What fifteen year old would you set up with someone older than me? What fifteen year old, across the ocean, would you place in a burka, banish from school, disallow to drive, and hand off to a thirty-five year-old-man? No matter the culture, no matter the time period, it wasn’t okay then, just as it isn't okay now. Just because its written in our Christmas story, lets not dress up a culture of pedophilia and women’s oppression, calling Joseph a saint, and worse yet heralding the plight of many women in our own time. This is not some pretty story, and no wonder Mary is afraid. Mary had no choice, no choice over her destiny, and no choice over her body.

The scripture continues, “The angel came to her and said, "Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.” But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. The angel said to her, 

"Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end." 

I wish Gabriel had asked Mary if she would like to conceive a child in her womb and bear a son. Shouldn’t a woman always have this choice? Shouldn’t a fifteen year old girl get to decide when it is time for her to become a mother, because I don’t know many fifteen years old for whom pregnancy is their intended decision. Across the globe, pregnancy keeps teens from finishing their education, limits their job opportunities, and can make them financially reliant and stuck - powerless - in relationships. I wish the angel had been a woman, call her Gabriella. Let her deliver the message, because maybe then Mary could have questioned more, could have said, ‘no,’ but I am afraid Mary grew up in a culture where you didn’t say no to men, where their word was final and law.  Imagine if Gabriella had asked Mary what she desired, how might Mary’s answer differ? I wonder what were Mary’s dreams before this. What life did she imagine when she let her imagination run? Did she want to be a teacher like Michelle? Was she an aspiring writer like Kate? Did she have a great basketball game, like Kalli? We don’t know, because Mary’s side of the story isn't told, and perhaps, she was so steeped in culture of oppression that she didn't know she could dream. She didn't know she should have choices. So here she is, being told she will be pregnant, and bare a child, that she will carry this burden, and labor it forth. She is told what she will name her son, and what will be his destiny, and that, her own destiny will be governed by his kingship. “You will name him Jesus, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever and of his kingdom there will be no end.” We are supposed to think that Mary wants a famous son, we are supposed to think she wants to fulfill the prophesy, and therefore we assume that Mary can’t think for herself. But I tell you she is thinking on her feet.

Mary said to the angel, "How can this be, since I am a virgin?” We do not know if Mary was actually a virgin, but what we do know is that either way she had to say she was. That still today, outside the door of marriage beds, people wait for the stain. That hymen replacement surgery is a common, not only in the Middle East, but in America as well. This is not just a culture of masculine machismo, but a culture of feminine death, and threat, and fear. If Mary was not a virgin, she could have been the victim of an honor-killing, possibly by her own family, to assuage their shame of her loss of virginity. Likewise, still today, there are women who claim immaculate conception because their lives depends on it. And before we think that these examples are too extreme for us, let us look at our own colleges and the ways they too silence and blame victims who likewise had no choice over their own bodies. Let us look at the simple way that our culture raises its children. Having grown up in the South, the expectation is that, ‘boys will be boys,’ and girls are to, ‘save themselves.’ We actually use that language. Well, the thing Mary is saving herself from is death, and in the South, and perhaps here too, women are saving themselves from shame, if they can. We don't question whether they, perhaps like Mary, perhaps like me, don’t really find virginity all that important. Maybe what is important, is women deciding for themselves. 

But in this scripture, it seems as if even God has made the decision to take away Mary’s choice. The angel said to her, 

"The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God.”

I am not sure what could be worse than this Annunciation of the Immaculate Conception? ‘Mary you are used to being overshadowed, and now you will also be overshadowed by God. God will take away your choice over what happens to your body, and if you were a virgin you are no longer. If, by chance, your pregnancy was not divine, what will be taken away is the truth of your story, and the your words to share it. If you felt the pleasure of love, deny it and pretend your conception was divine, and if you were raped, say the same, call it God’s plan. These are your words Mary.’ The words of the oppressed, the Word made flesh, to dwelling among us. 

Then Mary said, "Here am I, the slave of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word." I don’t know if she said this with the utmost sarcasm. I don't know if she said this in tears of helpless grief, but I wonder if she muttered under her breath, ‘because I have been given no other choice, and no one asked what I would choose.’ I imagine at this point Gabriel gets it. Even the angel knows that what he has brought is not good news for Mary. So, having gotten what he needed, “the angel departed from her.” I don't know if Mary crumpled in pain, or if she was so numb to the plight of women that she just carried on as usual; maybe what remained was a spark of pride for her quick life-saving answer, the girl who outsmarted the angel. I don't know. We don’t hear Mary’s story, but I have heard enough stories to know that hers, and my own, are images of Advent we can’t ignore. They are the stories of so many Marys, and the story of the Mary that stands in front of you, but the difference between my story and hers, is I get to tell it, and perhaps, in the telling of her story, in the messy hardship of it, is the true annunciation. 

Perhaps true annunciation is that no matter the how much we oppress, be it through images of a fair skinned, saintly,’ mother and child, or a theology that that turns human conception into divine assault, the versions of Mary with silenced stories, will still find their story, and perhaps their voice, in the telling of this ancient one. In so doing, we change the narrative, from Mary’s virginity being the reason that Jesus was divine, to her plight being the reason the divine came to Mary, that her story might be told, and ours with it. Because where else does God come, but to the oppressed, that they might be free, “Was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay,”  to the young like Mary and all of creation, “On this day, earth shall ring, with the song, children sing,” to the humanness of our lives, “Word of the Father, now in flesh appearing,” to the wounded and sick, “light and life to all he brings, risen healing in his wings,” to the hidden worrisome places, “Yet in the dark streets shineth, the everlasting light, the hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight,” and this day, to the silenced that they might have voice, “Go tell it on a mountain, over the hills and everywhere.” Amen.

March 1, 2015 Mark 8:31–38

Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.” 

He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, 

“If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.” 

***

I must admit, the cross is not my favorite symbol. I’d prefer the empty tomb, granted it would hang less well from a chain around our neck, but symbolically, I like to focus more on Christ’s glory than glorify his suffering. I am thankful as Presbyterians we do not have a crucifix hanging here above my head. Its interesting, the three symbols required for our worship are the table, the font, and the pulpit, none of which make me squeamish, and all of which hope to bring Christ closer to us, through the sharing of communion, our baptism, and the Word. Conversely the cross seems too lofty to share, to great a burden for humanity to be saddled. So, if I was one of the disciples, I would certainly be Peter. Disbelieving the necessity of Jesus’ suffering and our own, but here I am proved wrong. The Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again, and “If any want to become his followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow him.”

For what would be the point of following Jesus, if he couldn’t be there in our deepest suffering when we needed him the most? What would be the point of Christ’s divinity, if Jesus could not relate to our humanity? What would be the point, as we watch the great suffering in this world, lands revenged by both war and drought, families broken with illness and addiction, huge disparities in wealth and education, continual oppression of people and groups? What would be the usefulness of a risen Christ is Jesus had not carried his cross through the humanness of pain, through the broken of life, and the reality of suffering. 

I know in my own life, the friends I go to when I’m in that need a friend moment, are the ones that have been there too, the ones who meet me with their own tears as I tell my story, because they place themselves in that feeling we share. I so appreciate the people who are able to look at the pain in their life, and therefore be with others in their pain. As a pastor, people often assume I have had the life of a goody two shoes, a man came in off the street the other day, took one look at me and said, “I don't think you’d understand what I’m going through.” I told him, “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” He did anyway, and I knew it was his loss, because I have been in low places, I have heard hard stories, and I am not about to ignore, or paint over how hard life is, neither his in that time, nor mine in times past. I think the Peters among us get this. Maybe Peter had been in that hard place, and didn't want Jesus to have to go there too, didn't believe that suffering was necessary for divinity. 

Perhaps suffering isn't necessary for divinity, but suffering is a part of humanity, and therefore, if divinity is to come down and be with us in in our suffering, Jesus had to carry the cross. Maybe in his carrying the cross, Jesus carries with us our own burdens, our own sorrows, our worries, our pain, and our fear, our anger. Maybe he meets us in our tears with tears of his own, because he knows that pain, and in being able to relate and have compassion he helps us carry our cross. Maybe likewise, to be with others in their suffering, we too have to have felt the weight of the cross, be willing to look at the way a crucifix can hang above our heads, and offer compassion, for through that compassion Christ is raised, and divinity is with us. 

Its not an easy task, to carry the cross, its not an easy task to watch others carry their cross, it is not an easy task to hear and witness another’s burden, so much so, that sometimes even reading the news feels a cross as its own, but when do hear the stories of our common humanity, our suffering is lifted through our compassion, and Christ is risen. I always feel better after talking to the friends who can meet me in that tough place. I know they feel the same. When I am up on the news, I feel a greater bond with humanity, and am able to see ways I can offering compassion and through fulness in my own life. I wonder, where are the place you are carrying a cross, and what might it be life to share. Where are the places you have witnessed the burden of someone else’s cross and by your witness helped carry? Where are the places in the world where you want someone to know you have heard their stories and carry with them, the cross? Where have you seen the divinity of Christ, in the sharing of Jesus’ suffering, and the hope of a risen Lord? 

This is the symbol, it is the cross, it is not a symbol which glorifies suffering, it is a symbol that tells us we do not carry our burdens alone, that as we share them, Christ is risen, and divinity is with us.