John 13:21-32

After saying this Jesus was troubled in spirit, and declared, “Very truly, I tell you, one of you will betray me.” The disciples looked at one another, uncertain of whom he was speaking. One of his disciples—the one whom Jesus loved—was reclining next to him; Simon Peter therefore motioned to him to ask Jesus of whom he was speaking. So while reclining next to Jesus, he asked him, “Lord, who is it?” Jesus answered, “It is the one to whom I give this piece of bread when I have dipped it in the dish.” So when he had dipped the piece of bread, he gave it to Judas son of Simon Iscariot. After he received the piece of bread, Satan entered into him. Jesus said to him, “Do quickly what you are going to do.” Now no one at the table knew why he said this to him. Some thought that, because Judas had the common purse, Jesus was telling him, “Buy what we need for the festival”; or, that he should give something to the poor. So, after receiving the piece of bread, he immediately went out. And it was night.

When he had gone out, Jesus said, “Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him. If God has been glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once.

The lectionary this year is choosing John as the narrator for the events of Holy Week. I love John, I’ve studied John, yet I remain mystified at points along the way. This story is one of those points. I sorta get the first part — Jesus is feeling the weight of what is to come and feeling it even more strongly because of the betrayal of one of his own. Simon makes eyes at John as if to say, “Get him to tell you more. Who is this betrayer?”

What gets to me in this narrative is the fact that Jesus gave him the answer. At least as we read it here, it could not have been more clear: the guy who gets this soaked piece of bread, he’s the one. And yet. . . no one gets it. 

Sometimes we can’t handle the truth. Judas was one of the gang, the one who handled all their money, no less. Surely, Jesus got it wrong. He’s just going out to purchase supplies, right?

No, not right. Dead wrong, in fact. And with Judas’s departure, Jesus turns completely mystical and utters some of those words that John alone gives him, words that go around in circles. But words that usually have something to do with glory. That’s one of the things that I love about this gospel. John has had time to digest all of the events he has witnessed. He has read the other gospels. He has worked to build the church for decades and now, he wants to write it all down. But it doesn’t come out like the other three, does it? It is a theological reflection on the story of Jesus and it is filled with mystery and wonder. Only John uses the imagery connected to ‘glory’ to help us understand who Jesus is and what it is Jesus is doing. 

There is so much more going on than we can see. So much. 

Lord of Glory, give us eyes to see. Help us to hear the echoes of heaven in every word you utter over these last days of the journey. Help us to see and to hear through the lens of glory, to know that what you did was intentional, generous, inclusive and altogether wonderful. Thank you for choosing to move through your fear and disappointment, for choosing to show us that suffering can be redemptive, transformative. For willingly laying down your life to say, “Enough! Sin and death do not win.” Thank you.

John 12:20-36

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. The crowd answered him, “We have heard from the law that the Messiah remains forever. How can you say that the Son of Man must be lifted up? Who is this Son of Man?” Jesus said to them, “The light is with you for a little longer. Walk while you have the light, so that the darkness may not overtake you. If you walk in the darkness, you do not know where you are going. While you have the light, believe in the light, so that you may become children of light.”

After Jesus had said this, he departed and hid from them.

From ‘my soul is troubled’ to ‘he departed and hid from them,’ this small chunk of the story is laced with sadness and with reality. What Jesus is facing is difficult in the extreme and he is increasingly aware of the cost of it all. I cannot imagine it, to tell you the truth.

There is the gift of the heavenly voice and the encouragement that brings, and there are the words of admonition from Jesus that ring true right down to this moment in time . . . “walk while you have the light.” 

All of it it focuses us on the road that remains, the last leg of this long and arduous journey toward Calvary. 

Lord, help us to stay with you. Every step of the way.

John 12:1-11

Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, “Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?”  (He said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it.) Jesus said, “Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”

When the great crowd of the Jews learned that he was there, they came not only because of Jesus but also to see Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. So the chief priests planned to put Lazarus to death as well, since it was on account of him that many of the Jews were deserting and were believing in Jesus.

Another one of my favorite stories in scripture — this Lenten season has been filled with them. This was the story for my first sermon, ever, back when I was a beginning seminary student. The text itself was from Mark, not John, and in that version, I was particularly struck by this line: “Truly I tell you, wherever the good news is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in remembrance of her.”

Jesus’ terse response of, “Leave her alone,” is almost as good! In Mark’s version, this event happens at the home of Simon the leper and the woman is unnamed. Here, she is his good friend, Mary. And the gift she gives him is priceless, more valuable than any other item ever mentioned in connection with our itinerant, sandal-wearing, lived off the offerings of wealthy women followers. They followed after our Jesus, the teacher — now on his way to becoming Jesus, the savior.

Welcome to Holy Week.

Loving God, help us to keep our focus on the road you walked this week, to remember each piece of the story, that story that we have told and re-told, over and over again. Thank you, thank you, for it.

The Liturgy of the Palms

Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29

O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
    his steadfast love endures forever!
Let Israel say,
“His steadfast love endures forever.”

Lamentations 3:55-66

I called on your name, O Lord,
from the depths of the pit;
you heard my plea, “Do not close your ear
to my cry for help, but give me relief!”
You came near when I called on you;
you said, “Do not fear!”

You have taken up my cause, O Lord,
you have redeemed my life.
You have seen the wrong done to me, O Lord;
judge my cause.
You have seen all their malice,
all their plots against me.

You have heard their taunts, O Lord,
all their plots against me.
The whispers and murmurs of my assailants
are against me all day long.
Whether they sit or rise—see,
I am the object of their taunt-songs.

Pay them back for their deeds, O Lord,
according to the work of their hands!
Give them anguish of heart;
your curse be on them!
Pursue them in anger and destroy them
from under the Lord’s heavens.

It must have been a gray day when Jeremiah wrote these words, don’t you think? And somehow, they’re appropriate for this day before Palm Sunday. With the deep understanding he had gained about the reasons for his trip to Jerusalem, Jesus must have been more than a little bit pensive about it all. It would not surprise me to discover that he spent time in the scroll of Lamentations as he readied himself for the events of what we call Holy Week.

These words, along with the psalms of lament, are beautiful gifts to us. They give us language when we can’t find the words, when we’re feeling overwhelmed by life, when we’re feeling lonely, forsaken, overlooked, persecuted. And I understand the longing for pay-back expressed in that last stanza. Oh, yes, I do! But you know what? These kinds of words (they’re called ‘imprecatory’ in biblical circles) are useful for us, as well. They give us permission to speak ALL of our truth in the presence of God. To get down and dirty, to let our anger and our hurt feelings hang out there, flapping in the breeze of God’s goodness and grace.

These are not the only words, nor are they the last ones. But they’re good ones. They remind us that God sees us as we are and invites us to be real when we’re speaking with him. I’m thankful for that truth.

Thank you, Lord, for permission to be who we are. All of who we are. And thank you that harsh words are never the last words in our scripture. Thank you that forgiveness comes, that you supply it in abundance. And that you expect us to practice it, too. Help us to follow your lead — thank you for giving us space to let it all hang out. But then help us, O Lord, to let it all go and to move forward in love.

Philippians 1:21-30

For to me, living is Christ and dying is gain. If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me; and I do not know which I prefer. I am hard pressed between the two: my desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better; but to remain in the flesh is more necessary for you. Since I am convinced of this, I know that I will remain and continue with all of you for your progress and joy in faith, so that I may share abundantly in your boasting in Christ Jesus when I come to you again.

Only, live your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ, so that, whether I come and see you or am absent and hear about you, I will know that you are standing firm in one spirit, striving side by side with one mind for the faith of the gospel, and are in no way intimidated by your opponents. For them this is evidence of their destruction, but of your salvation. And this is God’s doing. For he has graciously granted you the privilege not only of believing in Christ, but of suffering for him as well— since you are having the same struggle that you saw I had and now hear that I still have.

 So these are the lines that stand out to me on this reading:

“For to me, living is Christ and dying is gain.”

And:

“For he has graciously granted you the privilege not only of believing in Christ, but of suffering for him as well . . . “

And both of those lines are sometimes difficult for me to read. I know, I know. That first one is a verse we all memorized, back in the day. And I love the sentiment behind it. But I gotta be honest here, friends. It is sometimes really, REALLY hard for me to believe that ‘dying is gain.’ I know I should. And on my best days, I think I do. But you know what? I love my life, even when it’s difficult. I’ve had a rich set of experiences over these years, made some deep relationships. I adore my family, even when they make me crazy, and I think this planet is the most amazing thing ever.

So, I must admit that it is often difficult for me to grasp Paul’s meaning here. And then I read that second line, about the ‘privilege’ of suffering and I begin to catch a tiny glimpse of why the first line was written after all. We have no idea what it means to suffer because of our faith. NONE. Despite the political rhetoric that might try to tell us that Christians are persecuted in this country, there is simply no comparison to what the early Christians, or even what many Christians in other places experience today. We all suffer, yes, we do. But we don’t necessarily suffer in the way Paul did. Apparently, the Philippians were beginning to get a taste of that kind of struggle. And Paul tells them that it is a privilege. Wow. I have a lot to learn, don’t I?

Ah, Lord God. I am grateful for the life I live here in the US of A in the 21st century. I am grateful for the ways in which my faith is not only encouraged, but appreciated in this day and age. Maybe I’ve missed some really valuable lessons because I’ve never been imprisoned, beaten, tortured, or otherwise mistreated because of Jesus. Nevertheless, I am grateful for the live you’ve given me and ask your forgiveness for my lack of faith and for any short supply of empathy I carry for those who truly do pay a price for following after you. Remind me to pray for those who struggle in this way.

Philippians 1:1-11

Paul and Timothy, servants of Christ Jesus,

To all the saints in Christ Jesus who are in Philippi, with the bishops and deacons:

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

I thank my God every time I remember you, constantly praying with joy in every one of my prayers for all of you, because of your sharing in the gospel from the first day until now. I am confident of this, that the one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ. It is right for me to think this way about all of you, because you hold me in your heart, for all of you share in God’s grace with me, both in my imprisonment and in the defense and confirmation of the gospel. For God is my witness, how I long for all of you with the compassion of Christ Jesus. And this is my prayer, that your love may overflow more and more with knowledge and full insight to help you to determine what is best, so that in the day of Christ you may be pure and blameless, having produced the harvest of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ for the glory and praise of God.

“And this is my prayer, that your love may overflow more and more with knowledge and full insight to help you to determine what is best, so that in the day of Christ you may be pure and blameless, having produced the harvest of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ for the glory and praise of God.”

Oh, to have such a prayer prayed over me every day of my life. And you know what? I think this is pretty much what Jesus says for each one of us, continually. That we would be full-up with LOVE. Love that is knowledgeable, filled with insight, love that helps us determine which way is right. Love that produces righteousness, NOT the other way around. Do you catch the big difference that makes?? We get so hung up on doing and being right, when we should put the horse before the cart and learn more and more about love. There is a reason that Jesus tells us the world will recognize us as true followers by how well we love one another.

And so often, we do such a rotten job of it. We are operating out of fear and feelings of inadequacy far too often, afraid someone else is going to be better liked than we are, that their voice will carry more weight with the larger body. We are quick to judge, to exclude, to label. What if we chose to love first, every time we were with one another?? Love.First.

Wow, I think the church might actually be the church if we could ask for the power and grace to do that!

Lord, teach us to love. To love honestly and well. To love first, last and always. Not that loving well doesn’t sometimes involve ‘speaking the truth in love,’ but that we would always, always, ALWAYS remember that there is no truth without love. It cannot be heard unless it is conveyed to us through the eyes, voice and words and of love. Help us to look to Jesus as our model, our example, our true-blue lover, par excellence. Thank you.

Psalm 143

Hear my prayer, O Lord;
give ear to my supplications in your faithfulness;
answer me in your righteousness.
Do not enter into judgment with your servant,
for no one living is righteous before you.

For the enemy has pursued me,
crushing my life to the ground,
making me sit in darkness like those long dead.
Therefore my spirit faints within me;
my heart within me is appalled.

I remember the days of old,
I think about all your deeds,
I meditate on the works of your hands.
I stretch out my hands to you;
my soul thirsts for you like a parched land.  Selah

Answer me quickly, O Lord;
my spirit fails.
Do not hide your face from me,
or I shall be like those who go down to the Pit.
Let me hear of your steadfast love in the morning,
for in you I put my trust.
Teach me the way I should go,
for to you I lift up my soul.

Save me, O Lord, from my enemies;
I have fled to you for refuge.
Teach me to do your will,
for you are my God.
Let your good spirit lead me
on a level path.

For your name’s sake, O Lord, preserve my life.
In your righteousness bring me out of trouble.
In your steadfast love cut off my enemies,
and destroy all my adversaries,
for I am your servant.

For me, a level path is critical. Since my foot surgery almost three years ago, I’ve had problems with balance. Add to that the fact that neither of my knees works terribly well, and you gotta know that level is what works best.

Here are the lines that speak to me on this reading. Please share any that speak to you today in the comments.

“Let your good spirit lead me on a level path,” the psalmist cries. And I join in the cry — in a very real sense as well as a metaphorical one. There are other lovely phrases in this song, too. What are some of your favorites? Here is a list of mine:

“give ear to my supplications in your faithfulness” — Yes! God is faithful.

“Therefore my spirit faints within me; my heart within me is appalled.” — Yup. I feel like this on a regular basis, especially in the current political climate.

I meditate on the works of your hands. I stretch out my hands to you; my soul thirsts for you like a parched land — a sturdy metaphor that has been part of my daily life during the years of this long drought, a picture that I hold within my heart of my need for the refreshment of the Water of Life.

Let me hear of your steadfast love in the morning, for in you I put my trust. Teach me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul — “new every morning,” right? Yes, Lord, help me to hear of your love every new day and to trust in it and in you. Teach me the way. . .

You are the Master of the Path, whether it’s level all the time or not. Help us, Lord, to look to you, to tell you the truth about how we’re feeling, and to trust that you are here, right here, with us in the midst of it all, joy and pain, laughter and sorrow. Thank you.

Acts 20:7-12

On the first day of the week, when we met to break bread, Paul was holding a discussion with them; since he intended to leave the next day, he continued speaking until midnight. There were many lamps in the room upstairs where we were meeting. A young man named Eutychus, who was sitting in the window, began to sink off into a deep sleep while Paul talked still longer. Overcome by sleep, he fell to the ground three floors below and was picked up dead. But Paul went down, and bending over him took him in his arms, and said, “Do not be alarmed, for his life is in him.” Then Paul went upstairs, and after he had broken bread and eaten, he continued to converse with them until dawn; then he left. Meanwhile they had taken the boy away alive and were not a little comforted.

What a strange, small story! And man, could that Paul TALK, eh? Do you have relatives or friends who can talk like this? Just story after story, detail after detail, until you, too, have to fight sleep??

The small packets in the picture up there are my first attempt at crochet after several years away from that craft. A friend’s two sons are having their first children just weeks apart this spring — one of them is already here! — and so I made them each a blanket and a cap and included a copy of Matthew Paul Turner’s delightful new book with each gift set. Babies need lots of sleep, and cozy blankets can help that happen.

Well, this man was young, but not quite a baby. And his unexpected sleep led to a near-disaster — falling 3 stories and dying on the spot! Yet, Paul doesn’t hesitate to tell everyone that death has not won in this kid’s life — at least, not yet.

And after that nice and weird little interruption, Paul proceeds to eat and then . . . to start talking once again! All.Night.Long.

I love that that detail is included in the telling of this story. I also love this one — they took the kid away! Enough was enough.

Lord, sometimes we don’t know when we hit enough. Give us ears to hear, eyes to see, and hearts to understand when it’s time to take a break, to stop talking, to let the Spirit breathe in our midst. Thank you that Paul wasn’t perfect and that someone took the time and care to tell us this little story — just in case we were in danger of imagining that he might have been!