Posted by stpauls on May 29, 2011 under Sermons | 
Some of you might remember the HBO-series “Six Feet Under.” It was a show that ran from 2001 to 2005 and featured the Fisher family, who owned a struggling family funeral business. Every episode featured a death as the backdrop for the storyline and, of course, the Fishers would prepare the deceased for burial.
In one of the more memorable episodes, the writers of the series picked up a story that had previously circulated on the internet, but proved to be an urban legend. You might remember the story. Still, it bears repeating and, yes, despite its macabre setting, you are allowed to laugh.
The woman, whose corpse would be the focus of this episode, had been killed during an incident best described as “a mistaken rapture:” She had apparently been convinced that the rapture was occurring when she saw people floating up into the air and then passed a man on the side of the road whom she thought was Jesus. After screaming, “He’s back, He’s back,” she had climbed right out of the sunroof and had jumped off the roof of the car onto the road and was instantly killed.
As it turns out, the man who looked like Jesus was dressed up as Jesus and was on his way to a toga costume party when the tarp covering the bed of his pickup truck came loose and released twelve blow-up adult-dolls filled with helium which floated up into the air.
Now, of course, this is funny – well at least for us. If Facebook and Twitter had been around back then, I would have shared the link to the story, preceded by the letters ROFL – rolling on floor laughing.
In the end though, I do realise that laughing about this probably smacks a bit of uncharitable and un-Christian behaviour. After all, I am making fun of my sisters and brothers, who, even though they are misguided in their interpretations of the end-times, are still sisters and brothers. Laughing at somebody else’s expense really isn’t very nice…
And, so, as I saw some of the Facebook updates as we approached May 21st, 2011, I had some mixed emotions.
Sure, there is a side of me that finds postings about post-rapture looting parties and rapture-orgies amusing. But that is a more wicked side that should definitely talk to my confessor.
There is, however, another side that made me a bit nervous, because, let’s face it, most people in our neighbourhood really do not differentiate between Harold Camping, Markus Dünzkofer, or you for that matter. In the eyes of most of our contemporaries, we are all nutters. After all, is a faith in the rapture really that different from a faith in a deity that was somehow revealed in a historical person called Jesus?
And then there is yet another side in me, which gets serious rather quickly. And I wonder, who really is more loony: Harold Camping and his pseudo-religious predictions; or the media, which is so keen on making a big hoopla about a fringe group that represents less than 0.0001% of Christianity; or we, who eagerly watch media reports and provide the audience for the spectacle?
Maybe it is time to take a closer look at this “rapture-thing” and explore a bit of the background.
The first thing you need to know is this: The rapture is a minority opinion among Christians. Christian churches representing the vast majority of believers do not believe that the faithful will be taken to heaven before Christ’s second coming.
Secondly, it is important to remember that the “rapture” is a fairly modern theological invention. The concept originates in the early 19th century and was made prominent in the revival tents of the religious awakenings, particularly through John Nelson Darby and William Miller.
Miller, who inspired both the Seventh-Day-Adventist movement and the Jehovah’s Witnesses, predicted the rapture to occur in 1844. And Miller also stressed that the Second Coming of Christ consists of two distinguishable events: Firstly, the rapture of the faithful and secondly, after some time, the public manifestation of Jesus as Lord and King and Judge. While Miller’s predictions proved to be as trustworthy as those of Harold Camping, the two-event theory stuck with most Evangelical Christians even to this day. And by the way, the theory is called “dispensational premillennialism” – a lovely term, eh?
But mainstream, traditional, and orthodox Christianity does not teach this, and never has. For the early church as much as for most Christians today there will be no rapture. Basta!
I do, however, understand where those who believe in the rapture are coming from. Indeed, I did read a few comments by Evangelical Christians, who were rather disappointed eight days ago. I am not sure they expected the rapture to really happen then, but their comments were clear: They cannot wait. They cannot wait to get off this planet, where sorrow and pain reign; where wars and terror ravage and rape our sons and daughters; where starvation kills a child every six seconds; where the money spent on internet pornography could build thousands of churches, schools, and hospitals; where sisters and brothers are forced into exploitative labour and sold as sex-slaves; where people of faith are laughed at and scorned; where fires burn down villages not just in Alberta; where floods drown valleys not just in Quebec; where tornados level neighbourhoods not just in Missouri; and where sickness and death seem to have the final word.
No wonder many are yearning to escape this mayhem. It is a flight-mechanism that is based in disgust and that plays with the fear of being left behind, a fear that can easily be milked by false prophets who use it for their advantage and their benefit. And it is a fear that can also bring forth all kinds of predictions, which even fortune-tellers like Harold Camping might believe themselves.
But this is not Christianity!
Yes, Christians have yearned for the return of Jesus Christ, and for many generations they have expected this return to be imminent. And, frankly, they were wrong. And we, have to be honest and genuine in saying that our ancestors in the faith might have not quite gotten it right.
But, and this is the big difference between dispensational premillennialists and the more traditional and the more orthodox interpreters of the Bible: our ancestors got the basics right: They never gave up on the earth and they never gave up on their sisters and brothers – even as they were awaiting Christ’s imminent return.
Our planet earth is not just a waiting room for something better to come. And neither is the body we were given by the Creator a waiting room for the soul to move through to a more glorious existence.
God created this universe and God created us with flesh and blood for a purpose. The reign of Christ is not a future event, but the reign of Christ has already begun and Christ will return at the end of times to create a new earth and a new heaven, closely linked to the reality as we experience it here and now.
This is the big difference between dispensational premillennialists, i.e. those who believe in a rapture, and amillennialists (another great word!), i.e. those who believe that Christ’s reign is taking shape among us already and will only be fulfilled when Christ Jesus returns in glory: It is a difference in movement. Dispensational premillennialism seeks salvation removed from our existence. The move is upward, away from our existence. Classical Christianity knows that God is the one coming the other way. The movement is from God to us – not the other way around.
And this is where today’s text from John becomes important.
I am not sure if you noticed that there was a significant shift in the gospel texts during this Easter season two Sundays ago. While we spend basically the first half of the season of Easter reading about manifestations of the risen Christ among his disciples, on Good Shepherd Sunday we shifted gears and since then we have heard about the implications of the resurrection for our lives. And these implications do not talk about a reality removed from this earthly existence. Jesus did not overcome death, that great enemy of our lives here on earth, so that we can live in hope of being whisked away from here. Rather the Gospel speaks about God’s continued immanent presence in this world as a result of the Resurrection and the Gospels equally call us to live out the Resurrection here and now.
We won’t be removed from this earthly existence, yet we won’t be abandoned either. The Spirit is with us, so that we will not be overcome by the world but can overcome the darkness of the world with God’s compassion and love. Yes, as Christians we are not of this world, but this doesn’t mean we are not to be in the world either. Rather, the Spirit will help us battle our fears so that we can the hands and feet of God in the world – as Santa Teresa de Avila put it.
The Advocate is not just advocating on our behalf at the throne of God, but the Spirit is also advocating on behalf of our sisters and brothers and indeed of all creation to us. The Advocate urges us on: not only to trust the Risen One, but also to become messengers of hope, harbingers of peace, workers for justice, a voice for the voiceless, and care-takers for God’s creation.
The reign of Christ is not some future construct. It is among us. Let us not wait for better days, but let us help bring it to light now.
[The Reverend Markus Dünzkofer delivered this sermon on the 6th Sunday of Easter.]
Posted by stpauls on May 22, 2011 under Sermons |
So, I guess we didn’t get raptured last night then hey? With all this talk of raptures and end times in our media this week, it makes me wonder what really is involved in an ending? Are endings only Disney fairytales where the world is righted or are we less optimistic in our goodbyes? Are these ends permanent, or just a see you soon? I wonder how many of us came this morning prepared to say our goodbyes. No I am not talking about a church closure or even the next scheduled rapture we hear about on the news. I am talking about this season we call Easter, which remains for us a period of goodbye’s as well as hello’s. During this exciting season around the world we witness to the renewal of life from death in our changing seasons, of academic graduations, ordinations and confirmations which hallows the old Anglican tradition of the great “church recess” when congregation’s usually choose to vacation rather than attend mass. Who can blame us for that though? We live within driving/walking distance of paradise! With baseball games, hockey playoffs, camping and all the other exciting opportunities that await us out there in the world, it is easy to choose sun and fun over the Son of Man. Well let’s face it, we did Easter, so what else is there to do?
I am struck this week, as perhaps many of us might have been by a golden thread that has united the preceding weeks Gospel stories to our journey this morning. The passage just before this mornings reading from John contains the new commandment that we love one another as He has loved us- so that people will know by our love to whom we belong. This love has shown itself in many forms these last few weeks in our readings, through the journey and waiting at Emmaus, the image of the Gatekeeper and the sheep, and even in the doubt Thomas showed to the risen Christ needing to physically touch the wounds we inflicted, in order to believe. No matter how hard we try, how far we run, how often we are told otherwise, God loves us with a passion and intensity that surpasses our wildest imaginations. This golden thread that we are wrestling with asks us the broader question of relation and place.
It has become all too easy I think these days to get lost in the ether of our societies, as we move from an interactive and conversational community to a multimedia, twittered, and facebooked society. Linton Weeks, a pop culture blogger out of the US, suggests “We just don’t do whole things anymore. We don’t read complete books — just excerpts. We don’t listen to whole CDs — just samplings. We don’t sit through whole baseball games — just a few innings. Don’t even write whole sentences. Or read whole stories like this one. We care more about the parts and less about the entire. We are into snippets and smidgens and clips and tweets. We are not only a fragmented society, but a fragment society.”
We have firm reminders in the biblical narratives of the cyclical nature of history, Paul our patron saint spent the vast majority of his time writing letters to people who were more interested in their own local parts rather than the whole of the Christian body. Even the repeated covenants between God and Israel demonstrate our dependence on the parts rather than the whole, and yet God is always with us.
So we have all been here before, but what has become illuminated this morning for us is the way we choose to address this social shift, or not, depending on the circumstances. In Vancouver we are in a unique place in the country: we live in the most expensive per square foot housing market in Canada, with the average housing cost in Vancouver of about 650,000 compared to the 420,000 national average according to the 2006 Canadian census. This puts sustainable living practices beyond most peoples reach and has in my opinion necessitated a social shift away from time honored cultural values to a temporary value system that moves and shifts with the changing tides of our socially created needs. I think of our increasing dependence on social media to stake a claim in this world: we are perceived as deficient without a twitter account, or a facebook page. A recent campaign by Hollywood stars in the wake of a natural disaster had then choosing to “die for 24 hours” – meaning die to their online presence and not tweet or post to facebook until their fans had donated at least 1 million dollars to the disaster relief. I am left wondering why these stars, who make billions of dollars couldn’t just donate the money themselves- to lead by example, rather than hold out their purported love for us until we showed them our monetary love.
For us this morning, it is a perspective of place, which makes a difference. We try as hard as we might to create these indelible images of perfection in our lives, to mask the pain we carry, the shame we feel or to live up to an image we feel is presupposed upon us, by purchasing and negotiating our place within our society based on our presumed economic abilities. We mortgage ourselves, to over 80% of our incomes for 35 or more years so we can live in “own home,” and stake our claim on the disappearing capital of private property which we are socialized to believe is necessary for long term security. Yet with all this “control” over our happiness and lives, we are never prepared for the goodbyes. Again this morning Jesus continues in his preparation to say farewell to us, which is not the traditional farewell we understand after a death. Jesus is going to the Father to prepare a place for us, a place built in such majesty and grandeur that it is beyond our minds to fathom its regal splendor. God in his infinite wisdom takes for us the wood of this hideous and rough cross to which we nailed our precious Saviour and fashions for us a house of such opulence, that no single word, picture or emotion could explain or prepare us for it. Try as we might to “purchase” our happiness here, the only “key” if you will, required for entry to this celestial palace is the indelible mark we all wear on our foreheads as Christ’s baptized royal priesthood. This leads us then to explore our relation in light of our royal baptisms.
The etymological foundations of the word relation came to us from the late 14th century and means a bringing back, restoring, which latter to meant by blood or marriage. Our relation in the Risen Christ is a bringing back, a restoring. We are a bringing back, a restoration. What an interesting concept. We are told at many points in our lives the importance or centrality of our relations with others, be they good or bad. At our births, we are entered into the rolls of society through our birth certificates; we are officially and culturally branded by nation and by our parents both metaphorically and genetically. As Anglicans we assert apostolic succession through our rites of ordination, who and where we come from mean a great deal to us. Those long lists of names in our sacred text which we read and wonder who and why we need to know these people, those aren’t just page fillers or unimportant names – their importance is not an accident.
Who we are and whom we come from has remained a pivotal importance throughout the whole of human history. Yet we do allot to find ways to separate ourselves from those origins, choosing to turn away from the work that any relation needs to flourish. Society says that religion is dead, or of less importance than other priorities, and takes for granted the place this parish community has in the world around us; presuming to be uninterested in what we do, or why we do it. Noting could be farther from the truth. The story of Thomas in our Gospel reminds us of this doubt we all encounter post-Easter. Thomas in our reading is unwilling; perhaps unready to face up to the work of a post-Easter people and to the implications that this work has for us in our lives. How often have we tried to speak at the world in an attempt to control that which we have no control over, rather than to speak with and listen to it? How often do we choose to run away with the world like the apostles, rather than sit and wait with Mary at the tomb grieving the loss of our known stability, our known lives, only to be called upon as messengers to the rebirth of our tomorrows?
As in any relation, there must be an end and we are reminded constantly about the gift of that separation. We have important work to do that can only glorify God greater. Christ has left us with incredible signs and goals to achieve and has made sure that all things necessary for our success have been taken care of; his time to leave us is here. As a final reminder of our eternal relation to the Father, Christ promises the Spirit of God, our support and breath in the world we live. This morning through our readings we have been reminded that through our baptisms into the death and resurrection of Christ, our relation consistently points us to a bringing back and a restoration of the kingdom of God in our midst.
To drive this home, I’d like us to try something a little interactive this morning. I’d like to invite you to close your eyes, and quiet yourself.
Clear you mind as best you can of any other thoughts, just let them go as they enter your consciousness.
Don’t get hung up on it if you can’t fully switch off, just be at peace.
Now, as you are able I’d like you to in silence open your eyes and turn and face your neighbor either beside or in front or behind you.
Briefly study this person.
Notice their hairline,
Their eyebrows,
Pay attention to their smile,
Their dimples,
How does their skin moves as they do,
Pay particular attention to their eyes.
This is our relation;
This face is our bringing back, our restoration; this face is an image of the kingdom of God, which is totally perfect in its imperfection.
How incredibly awesome is that!
In each of our images is the indelible mark of God, so sacred, so precious that God dances at the birth of each of us, cries and weeps with us in our desolation and supports us through the spirit in our works to realize the kingdom of God today. The power of the Easter story this morning is fortified with the forthcoming gift of the spirit, which calls us, to engage in the work of the kingdom anew in the world- our choice is what will we do in response to that call? It is easy to hide behind the other, to go with the flow and think that since as a society we have been in this place of post-Easter discernment before, that clearly the work will be done by someone else and all will be well. This mornings Gospel proves that type of lifestyle a nonstarter. There is much to do, and the groundwork of the church starts here and now.
The marks of our royal baptisms illuminated in the mystery and power of the Easter encounter demands our action in the world for the realization of the kingdom. Passivity to the exclusion of others, the degradation of our fundamental freedoms for safety, food and shelter, our disregard for the gift of this Earth, and the walls we put up between ourselves through gadgetry and economic disparities can no longer stand in light of this morning. It is through this encounter with the risen Christ in his farewell discourse that we are again changed forever through our relation to him who loved us into being. Our question to wrestle with this week in light of the Gospel is this: “how will we witness and respond to our relations in the world for which Christ died?”
As we leave this place today, remember that face of the kingdom you saw reflected back at you. Take that sacred image with you into the world and look for it in those you meet and work with, we are all related by our humanity and we all cry for the same love for which Christ died and rose again. Blessed be we who search for His image in a world that longs for a bringing back, a restoration in Him who loved us into life.
Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia!!!!
[This sermon was written and delivered by Alex Wilson on Sunday, May 22, 2011.]
Posted by stpauls on under Bible Readings, Webmaster Blog |
John 14:1-14 ~ Gospel Reading for May 22, 2011
Jesus said, “Do not let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am, there you may be also. And you know the way to the place where I am going.” Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.”
Philip said to him, “Lord, show us the Father, and we will be satisfied.” Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, `Show us the Father’? Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father is in me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own; but the Father who dwells in me does his works. Believe me that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; but if you do not, then believe me because of the works themselves. Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.”
Posted by stpauls on May 8, 2011 under Sermons |
Let anyone with eyes see.
This is a sentence nowhere recorded in the Bible. Six times Jesus says, “Let anyone with ears, listen.”[1] Yet, eyes seemed to not have been part of the equation.
Still, this does not mean eyes do not feature prominently in God’s self-revelation through the Bible. In the Gospel according to St. Luke alone, eyes are mentioned eighteen times. Furthermore, especially the accounts of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ in all four Gospel feature the “eyes” and “seeing” prominently. Yet, in an interesting literary twist, on the one hand the Resurrection reveals Jesus’ true identity and makes visible God’s compassionate, endless love, which cannot be killed or hidden away or kept from view, but must burst forth into the open from the tomb. And on the other hand the disciples and friends of Jesus cannot see it, cannot understand it, cannot grasp it. It almost seems as if they themselves are held captive by a grave of unknowing, a darkness that keeps them from understanding. They see, but do not recognize. The eyes of their bodies are open. But the eyes of the hearts, of their innermost self are firmly closed.
Let anyone with eyes see.
This could be the title of today’s reading from the Gospel according to St. Luke.
Two disciples are on the way. They have experienced incredible events not just in the last week, as they tell the stranger that joins them on the way. But they must have experienced incredible, life-changing events even before. After all, they call Jesus “a prophet mighty in deed and word before God.”[2] Already they had seen glimpses of the uncreated light shining forth from Jesus, but they had not have the tools to make sense of the light, to understand fully its penetrating, challenging, radically different, yet at the same time immensely liberating and profoundly healing properties.
It all fell apart when things developed in ways they did not and could not predict. They were expecting anything but the violence that had engulfed them in the last days: The prophet of God was not meant to be so pushed around, so violated, so horribly killed. It did not make sense. God’s way could not be revealed on the cross. The reign of God could not be revealed in and through this. The Almighty and All-powerful surely could not have drowned in a sea of “might-less-ness” as a powerless weakling. It was impossible! They would have none of it!
This is why they had to bury “it:” both the dead corpse, and also all their dreams and hopes and scheming. They just couldn’t go there anymore. They needed to move on, needed to find a new place, needed to go forward. They were on the way, and not just to Emmaus. They couldn’t stay at the foot of the cross, they turned away from this symbol of defeat.
Unfortunately, these kind of disciples are still among us.
Cleopas has more than one friend. He is friend with all those Christians, who seek to bypass Good Friday and move directly to Easter. These are the Christians, who just cannot deal with idea that there is a dark, a weak, a vulnerable side to God. Their deity is all about power and might. Their god overcomes and overthrows, so that the followers can celebrate and rejoice in victory, in a religious orgy of triumphalism: An orgy of triumphalism that negates God’s birth in Jesus on a dark night in a staple among the marginalized and the neglected in a forgotten corner of the Empire; an orgy of triumphalism that cannot acknowledge that Jesus ate and drank with outcasts and sinners, offering forgiveness even to capital criminals, and embracing, holding, and offering healing to the untouchables; An orgy of triumphalism, that keeps eyes and ears firmly shut to the truth of God, which proclaims that rather than celebrate the demise of those who wish us ill, we are to love our enemies and pray for those who hate us[3]; An orgy of triumphalism that just cannot see, grasp, and comprehend that the Messiah of God must suffer first and that the way of the cross is the fulfilling of the law of love.
Yes, Cleopas has many friends.
Today is the anniversary of V.E.-day. 66 years ago, Nazi Germany capitulated to the Allies. For me, May 8th is a day filled with relief and gratitude. I am thankful that the deep-seeded evil so present in the reality of Nazi Germany was overthrown. The darkness of the Holocaust is beyond our imagining. And the oppression and fear that governed daily life cannot be comprehended by those of us lucky and fortunate enough to grow up in Western democracies. Evil reigned in Germany from 1933 to 1945.
Even Christians fell victim to the manipulative, lethal, and all-consuming fire of the Nazis-ideology, which celebrated the supposed triumph of the Aryan master-race. There was no room for a Jewish saviour in the theology of the “Deutsche Christen,” the German Christians, a church-group that merged Nazi ideology with Christian theology. And there was definitely no room for a cross or a suffering Messiah. And so the German Christians “Aryanised” Christianity, cleaned it up to fit the triumphalism of the day.
What an insult to God!
So, yes, I am grateful and thankful that I didn’t have to grow up surrounded by this evil. And most importantly: I am relieved!
But May 8th also always gives me pause, as I mourn the death of so many millions of people killed on either side of the war, which is an insult to God, too. God’s image can be found in every person. Every death pains the heart of God. And if we cannot recognise the face of God even in the most heinous criminal, than we are not unlike the disciples, who ran away from the cross and could not see.
German artist Karl Schmidt-Rottluff created the art-work reproduced on the cover of your bulletin in the early 20th century. Have a look for a second at this woodcut, and take a second to look at the eyes. The eyes of Cleopas and his friend are closed, shut to the reality that is enfolding around them, walking among them, offering to lead them from darkness, chaos, and confusion into life, liberty, and eternal light. The irony is this: Because they couldn’t see, truly see and embrace the way of the cross as God`s way, they also couldn’t be embraced by the new life offered in the Resurrection. Because they fled the reality of Good Friday, the new beginning, the new way of being offered on the first Easter morn escaped them. Blindness had struck – and held them captive.
Let anyone with eyes see.
Eventually, they did see.
But their eyes were opened not through means that we might expect.
Jesus did not condemn them for failing to see the truth. Jesus did not chastise or judge.
Equally, it wasn’t through dogmatically correct and accurate teaching. Yes, Jesus did expound on God’s self-revelation in our sacred biblical texts and the hearts of the disciples were burning. But they were still not seeing with their heart and with their souls. The innermost truth of the Resurrection still eluded their innermost being at this point.
Their eyes in the end were opened when Jesus broke bread.
Some have argued that it was because of the familiarity of the action that recognition was finally possible.
But I believe that the disciples saw, really saw, comprehended, and grasped the truth of the Resurrection, because the breaking of the bread was an act of love. It was far more than a cerebral exercise. It was a common meal around a table with friends enjoying fellowship, companionship, and love. And, more importantly, it was an act of love in which Jesus shared of himself, shared all that he has and all that he is.
Cleopas and his friend saw, really saw the fullness of the Life of God in this act of love. The events of the past week, both the cross and the empty tomb finally made sense. Their eyes saw the truth and they were gifted with the vision of divine love – And it propelled them back into the reality of their earthy existence, propelled them onto the road to Jerusalem, and sent them back to the community they were to serve in acts of love akin to what they had just experienced. And of course, this is just the beginning.
Mission comes from the Latin word for “to send.” And just like Cleopas and his friend, we, too, are sent back into the community to heal, to serve, and to make known the crucified and risen Christ. And just like Cleopas, we will share the good news of God every time we break the bread in Jesus’ name and every time we offer other acts of love – with friends and strangers and enemies alike.
[1] Mt 11:15, Mt 13:9, Mt 13:43, Lk 8:8, Lk 14:35, Mk 4:9
Posted by stpauls on under Bible Readings, Webmaster Blog |
Luke 24:13-35 ~ Gospel reading for May 8, 2011
That very day, the first day of the week, two of the disciples were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and talking with each other about all these things that had happened.
While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. And he said to them, “What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?” They stood still, looking sad.
Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?”
He asked them, “What things?”
They replied, “The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place. Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, and when they did not find his body there, they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said; but they did not see him.”
Then he said to them, “Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?”
Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures. As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. But they urged him strongly, saying, “Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.” So he went in to stay with them. When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them.
Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?” That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. They were saying, “The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!” Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.
Posted by stpauls on May 1, 2011 under Webmaster Blog |
Our preacher on Sunday, May 1 was William Ferrey, our seminarian from the Diocese of British Columbia. It was Will’s last Sunday with the congregation of St. Paul’s Anglican Church, so we are glad if you were able to join us for this service.
Will’s sermon on how science can lead us into doubt will be appearing here soon. The service also brought attention to theological education for both ordained and lay leaders of the church.
Webmaster, Nina
