Sometime during our sophomore year in college, back in 1995, my future mother-in-law Cletis suggested Kathi and I watch a new TV show she just adored.

The show is about a group of six people, all in their 20s, that were really close, and spent a slew of time together. “They’re young, like you,” she shared. “And fun. I think you’d really like it.”

So we watched, and surprisingly, to me at least, I enjoyed it. Which was a good reminder to my almost 20-year-old self that teenagers don’t know it all. Mothers really do know best ?

The show has a memorable opening with a catchy tune. Even just humming the intro, with no words, might be enough of a clue.

DE-DE-DE-DUH-DUH-DEH-DE-DE…it’s Friends, of course.

The series follows Rachel, Ross, Monica, Phoebe, Joey and Chandler, over the course of 10 seasons and 236 episodes, as they learn to live as young adults, through life’s up and downs, supporting each other along the way.

Each episode, in its own right, mirrors the title of the show’s theme song: I’ll be there for you  by the Rembrandts.

For the six Friends always are there for each other, in profound and often funny ways.

In one scene Phoebe’s grandmother dies. When Joey and Chandler hear of it at their favorite coffeeshop, Central Perk, they hold Phoebe’s hand while Rachel rushes over and puts her arm around her. The Friends listen, support, provide empathy, helping Phoebe cope with the unexpected loss.

Phoebe shares the last thing her grandmother said to her when they were at the grocery store, “Okay dear, you go get the eggs and I’m gonna get the yogurt and we’ll meet at the checkout counter.” And y’know what? We will meet at the checkout counter,” Phoebe realizes, referring to the afterlife. The four share the insight and quietly agree.

Friends support each other in tough times, caring all the while.

In another episode Ross buys a new couch, and enlists the help of Rachel and Chandler to help move it up a flight of stairs. “Turn, turn, turn,” Ross directs, as the couch squishes Chandler’s head against the rail.

Pivot! Ross then exclaims, as they try to take another step up. Pivot! Pivot! Pivot! But the couch doesn’t pivot, and gets stuck in the staircase for good. Later needing to be cut in half to be removed.

Friends help each other move heavy things. Or at least they try ?

Then there’s the scene where Rachel is moving out of Monica’s apartment, and they’re both packing her things, reminiscing, feeling sad, even getting upset with each other. Phoebe does her best to lighten the moment, asking what it is Monica likes about Rachel.

“She folds down the pages of catalogs with things she thinks I’d like,” Monica begins.

“When I take a shower she leaves me little notes on the mirror.”

“When I fall asleep on the couch after reading, she covers me over with a blanket.”

And the before you know it their fight is over and the two embrace. Friends help us see the best in each other. Friends also resolve conflict, restoring right relationship once again.

Laundry
Three days ago, Cheyenne Steward, Jo Hutchins and I went to the laundromat in town to hand out quarters, Tide pods and snacks to customers. It’s part of a new ministry Bethesda is sponsoring the 1st Thursday of every month. The premise is simple; we help wash clothes for low- and no-income families. Because everyone deserves the dignity of wearing clean clothes.

The experience was wonderful, and got us proximate to people black, white and brown, from all sorts of walks of life. With volunteering in the community you often end up getting more from the experience than you give, being rewarded with smiles, gratitude, delightful conversation. This was one of those days.

But it was watching people’s interactions with each other that made the biggest impression.

One woman brought her dog, a super cute Pomeranian. Several others took turns walking and playing with the pooch while washers and dryers churned. Two next door neighbors drove there together, because only one of them had a car. A pregnant mother brought her young daughter, and other customers sat and talked and played with the girl the entire time. People helped each other lug laundry in and out of cars in massive piles. And when machines malfunctioned they helped each other troubleshoot the problem, getting their laundry going once again.

I soon realized these weren’t just customers or clients we were spending time with, randomly sharing space together at a store. They were a community. They knew each other. They cared for each other. With all the helping and sharing they modeled it was even more than that.

They were friends. There for each other in times of need. Because –

Friends share rides.
Friends watch each other’s kids and dogs.
Friends troubleshoot problems.
Friends help each other move heavy things.

We church folk had merely been offered the chance to join in on the fun.

Not servants
Today’s text from John 15 is unique. It’s the only place in scripture where Jesus refers to the twelve he’d travelled with not as disciples or servants, or even students.

Those labels suggest –
Levels,
Hierarchy,
Separation.

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Instead, he gives the disciples a new identity. “I have called you friends,” Christ shares.

There is mutuality in friendship. It is where the vines and branches come together as one. Friendship is where the health of one impacts the health of all.

Friendship embodies loyalty, support, relationship, trust. Friends are there for each other, in good times and bad. No matter what.

The kind of friendship Jesus refers to involves more than just a passive term. For Christ has called us friends if we do something.

If we love one another. Just as Christ has loved us.

Christ makes a bold claim here: to love is to be a friend.
In matters of faith love and friendship are synonymous.

They are one in the same.

We can take this linguistic twist for a spin in some fun ways. Consider the greatest commandment using the language of friendship.

You shall be friends with the Lord your God, giving of all your heart and soul and mind. And you shall befriend your neighbor, treating them as well as you treat yourself.

The life of Christ, viewed another way, offers an interesting twist too. Consider Jesus’ resume, and what we are to emulate, through the lens of friendship.

Friends heal the sick.
Friends feed the hungry.
Friends clothe those without.
Friends calm fears.
Friends turn water to wine.
Friends welcome the immigrant.
Friends embrace people others discard.

Faithful friends do all that, not out of obligation, or because it’s the right thing to do. They do all that because living in friendship with God’s beloved brings us into divine harmony with one another. It brings us back to the original plan.

As it once was.
As it can be again.

Just as God walked side-by-side with Adam and Eve in the garden, we are to walk with others, as friends, modeling the friendship Christ extends to us.

A study conducted last year found over half of pet owners in the US say their dogs have more friends than they do. Think about that for a second. Many of our dogs have more friends than we do! Perhaps our furry friends have something to teach us of the importance of connecting with others.

Especially given Christ’s call to friend one another. Just as Christ has friended us.

Pivot
Returning to the Friends theme song for just a bit, consider the lyrics in a new light. As you listen, remember the friend we have in Christ. Be reminded of the importance of friendship with one another.

So no one told you life was gonna be this way
Your job’s a joke, you’re broke
Your love life’s DOA
It’s like you’re always stuck in second gear
When it hasn’t been your day, your week, your month
Or even your year, but
I’ll be there for you
(When the rain starts to pour)
I’ll be there for you
(Like I’ve been there before)
I’ll be there for you
(‘Cause you’re there for me too)

Love one another, yes. But take it a step further. As you encounter people through the journeys of life, no matter who they may be, try something else.

Be a friend. Amen.

A reflection on 1 John 3:1-2, who we are, whose we are, and the hope we have in each other.

A few days ago Kathi and I started in on our summer vacation plans for the year. While we’ve tried to keep planning particulars between the two of us – the element of surprise is fun with the kids – Graham seems to have caught wind that we’re working on something.

“Can we go back to the cabin that had Chocolate the horse?” he asks, reminiscing about our trip to Southeast MN the year prior.  Each morning during that week-long trip we visited Chocolate, the brown and white mare, who lived in the field right behind the cabin. The owners invited us to talk, pet and even feed her a bit of carrots or apples.

In their own way the kids ate it up too.

During the day we read and hiked and took trips to the nearby pool, which was, to our surprise, open. Often we were the only ones there splashing around.

By night we’d cook and play board games and fire up our Nintendo DS handhelds for some four player Mario Kart or Mario Party. Some evenings we’d head back outside, having fireside s’mores to end the day.

I asked our kids about what else they enjoyed about family vacations; their responses came easily.

Both our kids appreciate adventure, the chance to explore new places, the opportunity to see the world. Hannah likes to just go, and not get cooped up in the house. With no work for parents, no school for kids, minimal outside distractions for us all, we could enjoy each other’s company and simply be.

Graham remembers first walking into the rented cabin in vivid detail, saying ohmygosh, I have to check out every room! And we get our own rooms? Whoa! Look at that huge couch! And the firepit outdoors! I can hear a horse neighing!

A year later and our first grader can recall that opening vacation scene like it was yesterday.

Ah to have a sense of child-like wonder.

Both kids also mentioned they enjoyed learning new things they might not have known before.

Our kids learned while on vacation in 2020 – true story – that there is more than one meaning, and more than one spelling for the word dam. When I ordered the local special for lunch one day, asking for the Big Dam Fritter, our kids initially gasped.

“Dad, you said a bad word!” Graham exclaimed. “No,” I replied, “dam, spelled D-A-M is a barrier that stops water. We drove over one to get here.” Their gasps turned to laugher.

They then quickly pivoted to practicing how to playfully use this newfound word.

“How is your Big Dam Fritter?” Hannah asked, giggling. It was really pretty good.

Our pandemic vacations last summer were nothing flashy. With so much still closed, and long-distance travel discouraged, the experience, for us, was somewhat muted. There were no baseball games to watch, no amusement parks to conquer, no epic long road trips to pass the time.  Normally our family enjoys these kinds of things.

But we had us. And for our family of four that was enough.
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Kids
Compared to our grown-up counterparts being a child has some advantages. It comes with a parent or two that has your back. As a kid there is space to learn, to grow, to receive guidance. Kids have the chance to try out responsibilities with pets and dishwashing and trash day, experiences that serve them well as adults. Kids have opportunities to appreciate the newness of the world around, with wild eyed wonder that become less frequent as we age.

As a kid you’re not expected to have all the answers. Asking questions is the norm, encouraged, rewarded.

And oh the opportunities to play! Children have the chance, almost daily, to play together with reckless abandon. On the playground they chat with friends, create games, learn to cooperate, play to win. Sometimes play gets rough. Sometimes kids hurt each other. Sometimes kids need to give and receive forgiveness too.

And if things get too far out of hand, and kids can’t figure out how to make something right on their own, that’s entirely ok. Just talk to mom or dad, they’ll listen. They’ll share some perspective. They’ll point you toward how to fix what has been broken. All so you can get back to playing in the sandbox of life, once again.

Adoption
But earthly parents don’t have all the answers. We can’t always make it right. Sometimes life gets broken in ways not easily fixed.

Thank goodness we can rely on someone with infinite wisdom, infinite experience, infinite love. For the Father cares for us so much we have been given a new name: child of God.

This new status is celebrated on our baptism day, an identity baked into us from the very beginning. Child of God, you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit, marked by the cross of Christ, forever. You have not just earthly parents, but Godparents, and a community there to support and care for you daily.

As a child of God we been adopted into a heavenly family. Grafted into a tree so much larger than any Ancestry.com or 23 and Me DNA chart could ever show.

Within God’s family tree there are no comparisons of who is who. There are no winners, no losers based on who you are or where you’re from. There is just identity, connection, being part of something so much greater than ourselves. For we are all part of the whole, made in the image of our Creator. Put here not by chance but design. Called to live in right relationship with our God, with each other.

To do that well we’re going to need some help. Fortunately we have a heavenly Father always there, ready to listen, ready guide, ready to love. A heavenly Father available by book, by petition, by prayer. A heavenly Father that has given us siblings we can connect with in the here and now.

As a child of God we have access to a parent offering us a lifetime of new experiences, better than any single vacation could contain. Each day we’re offered the space to learn, to grow, to confess, to forgive. Each day we’re offered the chance to be closer to what we are called to be.

For as grown up as we may be on this earth, what we are to become has not yet been revealed. We are only children, after all, playing in the sandbox of life. We remain an unfinished work, still being molded into something beautiful, something new. For now we see in a mirror, dimly. It is only later when we will fully know. Just as we have been fully known.

With so much still to learn, so much growing left to do, there will be some good days, and some bad days too. For life in this unfinished kingdom is not yet complete.

But we have us.
We have help from on high.
And that, fellow child of God, is enough.

An Easter Sunday message.

Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia!

Oh that feels so good to say, doesn’t it? With it we proclaim newness of life, renewed hope, confidence in brighter tomorrows. With weather warming, vaccinations increasing, gathering together safely now more possible, in ways we’ve missed – for far too long – there is plenty to be excited about. Thanks be to God!

Today we remember an early morning two millennia ago, that started with three women, some spices, a journey to visit the dead. The women travelling to the tomb had no great expectations. They had seen Jesus crucified with their own two eyes.

The spices they brought would remove the stink of death from the tomb. And honor a dearly departed king. The ritual they went to complete was a chance to mourn, a time to say one last goodbye.

But inside the tomb they found not death, but a young man, dressed in white, very much alive. Was it an angel? Most likely. The angel tries to calm their fears, sharing that Jesus has been raised back to life. The angel then asks the women to do something – go, tell the disciples to meet Jesus in Galilee.

Galilee.

The location of where Christ’s ministry began. The promise of a grand reunion for Jesus and the crew. Where their mission to share God’s love with the world would begin anew.

This must be where the women shouted Christ is risen, right? They must have been super excited to carry out the assignment. Thrilled to get the show on the road, right?

Not exactly.

The women ran from the tomb that morning, scripture says, terrified by what they had seen. They didn’t say a word. To anyone. For they were still very much afraid.

At least the women went to the tomb that morning. Their male counterpart disciples hadn’t even been brave enough for that.

And just like that, the book of Mark is over. Done clap. Here ends the reading.

We’re left to wonder what would, or would not, happen next. Based on this narrative, if we’re honest with ourselves, the likely outcome doesn’t seem that great.

So jarring is this first resurrection account ancient scribes later added to it, hoping to tie up loose ends. Yes, of course the women told the disciples, one scribe wrote. Other scribes added even more.

Matthew, Luke and John share a lot about the happenings of a post-resurrection Jesus, walking and talking and fish frys, oh my.

But Mark’s version? It’s a cliffhanger. It’s filled with possibilities, yes. But filled with pitfalls too. It is a story with an ending as yet unwritten.

With so many questions left unanswered I can’t help but wonder. What if the women had stayed in fear and said nothing? Would Jesus had stuck around for a bit, realized he’d been stood up by those who claimed to love him, and then headed back, unannounced, to his heavenly home?

Would the disciples have continued Christ’s work without this grand reunion? Would the early church have formed? Would we be here, right now, talking of God’s mission for the world, and our role in bringing it about?

Maybe. Maybe not.

Today
The era we live in, more than any other in recent history, is one where we find ourselves increasingly surrounded by death.

Over half a million now gone due to Covid, in this country alone. Hundreds of thousands of which simply did not have to be.

Mass shootings and gun violence continue to rise. Initial estimates suggest daily gun violence surged last year, leading to an additional 4,000 more murders than in 2019. Making it the single worst year for this, in the US, in decades.

2021 hasn’t started out any better.

All while our politicians offer their best thoughts and prayers.

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Tomorrow
As the weather warms, as browns turn to so many hues of green, as first vaccine shots turn to second turn to immune, there is so.very.much to celebrate.

We made it! Or at least we’re pretty close. Out of one heckuva season, into a new one. Signs of new life all around us abound.

But, like Mark’s jarring conclusion, what happens next, for us, is a cliffhanger. Filled with possibilities. Filled with pitfalls. It is a story with an ending as yet unwritten. A story that we get to pen.

We’re left to wonder what will, or will not, happen next. Based on where we’re at right now, if we’re honest with ourselves, the likely outcome, to some of the largest societal issues we face, is something less than ideal.

As we increasingly journey out from our homes, like the three women that first Easter morning, we too may have no great expectations of what we will find. Perhaps we expect to encounter a culture that increasingly embraces violence, in thought, word, and deed, as the norm.

For we have seen the harm we can wreak, on each other, with our own two eyes.

Forgive us, Lord, for we have not always loved our neighbors, as ourselves.

In those ways it seems like things may never change.
And if we accept the status quo they never will.

Or, we can choose to write a new ending to this story. With plans sent from above, penned by heavenly design.

If that sound like something you’d like to be part of, be on the lookout, for –

Light, in places of darkness,
Hope, in times of despair,
Signs of life, amid certain death.

When we come upon those moments, we too may want to run back to that which we have become accustomed. Change can be hard, even when God knows it is for the best.

Or, we can embrace the divine offer to go, and meet Jesus where Jesus already is, out and about serving fellow children of God.

A Jesus who asks us to –

Lay down our swords, offering healing instead of harm;
Consider the well-being of our neighbors as much as our own;
Care for those society so often marginalizes, regardless of their –
race, ethnicity, immigration status, or who they choose to love.

If only we will follow.

Last night, my wife and I got chatting about the meaning of Easter, and she suggested a song pairing, Come Alive, from the movie The Greatest Showman. And I gotta say the lyrics smack of new life.

See if you can find the Easter promise within.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BDd9dejw2HY

The promise of Easter is this: the story remains unfinished. Dear Lord, help us write this next chapter well. Amen.

A reflection on what it is to go viral, in ways both good and bad, as seen through the lens of John 12:20-22.

The whole thing began so small, so far away. It was harmless, really. It certainly didn’t make much difference at first. It began with a being, a moment, a place. Not many noticed when it started. Even fewer cared. The world, initially at least, remained pretty much the same.

It originated among the animals, as best anyone could tell. It spread freely among them. That is until we humans caught it too.

And once it got into us, well, that was pretty much that. For we like to mingle. We’re drawn to one another. We love to gather. We are relational creatures, through and through.

When we’re together, we can’t help but open our mouths and talk. And when we do, billions of tiny particles project outward, potentially being received by anyone within range. Whether they like it, or not. Whether it’s good for them, or not.

If those tiny particles enter another person, in a particular way, they too will catch what we’ve just shared. And the next time they open their mouth in the presence of another, they’re likely to share what they’ve just received further still.

Left unchecked, all this tiny particle sharing can spread from person to person to person like wildfire. Spreading until potentially the whole herd has it. Spreading until it becomes part of what makes the herd what it is.

At that point? Better worse or otherwise, when the thing gets out it’s gone viral.

And there’s no undo button for that.

Viral
Going viral happens when something replicates, copying itself onto others as it goes.

It can be a(n) –
Infection,
Contamination,
Disease.

The word originates from Latin, and was initially synonymous with venom.

Think –
snakebite,
poison,
harm.

This past year, more than any other, we know plenty about *that* kind of viral.

Yet going viral, in modern vernacular, is neither good nor bad. It can be the spread of a(n) –

Video,
Image,
Words.

It can happen online, with a view, a like, a share.

Anyone care to guess the YouTube video that’s gone viral, more than any other, and seen over 8 billion times? All in less than five years? This is a fun one…

Baby Shark doo doo doo doo doo doo…

When local BBQ restaurant Cornbred posted a photo on Facebook last Sunday, of a server holding two ginormous cinnamon rolls, our little Iowan corner of the internet pretty much went *nuts*. So far the image has garnered 1,300 likes/loves/whoa reactions, over 2,600 comments, over 4,600 shares, and has been seen by over 1 million people. Normally posts to Cornbred’s page get a small fraction of that response.

What happened? The image resonated. People just had to share it. Cornbred’s cinnamon rolls that day sold out in record time.

Scripture
This kind of viral sharing finds voice in scripture too.

The whole thing began in a town of 400, over 6,000 miles away. So small. So distant. It didn’t make much difference, at least early on. It began with a baby, a manger, a star. Not many noticed when it started. Even fewer cared. The world then, initially at least, remained pretty much the same.

It started among a flock of sheep, as best anyone could tell. A flock being watched by shepherds, by night. It spread freely among them, until we humans caught it too. And as that baby grew, and started talking, recognition of who this person was began to spread.

First to –
One,
Two,
Twelve,

Later –
Hundreds,
Thousands,
More.

They were drawn to the –
Words,
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Healings.

The –
Love,
Promise,
Hope.

Today’s text is situated dramatically in the context of Passover. Proceeded by Jesus’ raising of Lazarus, Mary’s anointing of Christ’s feet, the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. The Son of Man couldn’t help but create buzz wherever he went.

People kept –
Seeking Jesus out, desiring to know more,
Liking, loving, whoa-ing at what they saw,
Sharing, retweeting, by word of mouth, Christ with others,

More, and more and more.

For Jesus, in no small way, had gone viral.

When some Greeks came to Philip, and asked to see Jesus, the disciple did what disciples do. He told another disciple, and the two went and shared Jesus with them some more. Jesus then shared what was to come next: his death, resurrection, ascent. He shared that even more people would be drawn to him because of it.

The numbers of the early Christian church grew daily, scripture says. The sharing, about Jesus, both in word and deed, helps explain why.

Now
Talk of viral spread these days, in any form, can’t help but be seen in a negative light.

Half a million now gone in the US, due to Covid,
Tens of millions deceived by conspiracy theories,
Falsehoods shared and retweeted, often unchecked.

As the pandemic slows down (keep masking), and
Vaccinations ramp up (keep distancing), and
Spring begins to bloom (enjoy),

Let us take a moment to consider –
What kinds of viral spread we choose to be part of, and
What kinds of viral spread we choose to shut down.

So keep on playing Baby Shark, Gangnam Style, Ed Sheeran.
Keep on sharing pics of cinnamon buns, cat memes, baby pics too.
Each silly, playful, fun.

Tho beware of the virus of conspiracy theories, the –

Pizzagates,
Space lasers,
Stop the Steal campaigns.

Each widely shared,
Each not based in reality,
Each that have led so many astray.

For there is venom in them all.

For when we’re together, in person or online, we can’t help but open our mouths and talk. And when we do, billions of tiny particles project outward, potentially being received by anyone within range.

Whether they’re six feet, or six thousand miles away.

And if those tiny particles enter another, in a particular way, they too will catch what we’ve just shared. And the next time they open their mouth, in the presence of another, they’re likely to share what they’ve just received further still.

It is human nature, after all.

So may we spread –

Love, not hate,
Truth, not lies,
Health, not harm,
Peace, not violence,
Welcome, not walls.

Above all else, may we do as the disciples did that day.

May we share Christ. May we spread his message of compassion, forgiveness, care for others. May we keep it at the center of all we think, say, do.

May we spread the message until all of humanity has caught it. Until all of humanity has been re-made by it. Making life on earth, as it is in heaven, anew.  Amen.

For as long as I can remember I’ve felt drawn to worship spaces. As a child my family attended large non-denominational mega churches complete with huge tv screens in the front, space for over 1,500 to sit, and a sizable baptismal dunk tank in the front of the sanctuary. A tank that resembled, at least to my younger self, a big, built-in churchy hot tub. Even though, from memory, the water that baptismal tank contained was really rather lukewarm.

As a middle schooler, when a friend invited me to attend synagogue one day, as part of their upcoming Bar Mitzvah, I excitedly said yes, relishing in the hopes of what the new experience would contain.

On our honeymoon in Key West, while lazily exploring the island, Kathi and I happened upon a church, right there on main street, with an afternoon organ recital that was about to begin. So of course, we walked right in and sat down.

Before kids, the two of us would often hop on cruise boats in South Florida heading to all sorts of Caribbean ports of call. What one thing would I always beg Kathi to do, if we by chance came across one? To spend time in the local Catholic cathedral, sitting in the back pew, awaiting whatever blessings those moments might hold. And if there were a mid-day mass spoken in a tongue not our own? Even better.

Heck, last year, as we carefully planned out what a socially distanced, safe summer family vacation in Iowa could be, you better believe we found some local sanctuaries to check out.

We visited the World’s Smallest Church, located near Decorah, with a seating capacity that tops out at eight. And also The Little Brown Church in Nashua, made famous by the song, The Church in the Wildwood. Both built in the 1800s, both great stories behind them, both highly recommended if you haven’t visited them already.

When in Washington DC? The National Cathedral is a must. And in Paris? Notre Dame. I haven’t gotten to that last one just yet – hopefully one day.

I’ve always felt drawn to worship spaces. And since you’re listening, watching or reading this odds are book you are drawn to them too.

Church
Worship spaces give us the opportunity to learn, reflect, sing.

In them we confess –
all is not right in the world,
all is not right within us.

It is where we pray that earth better resemble heaven.
It is where we pray for guidance to help make it so.

It is where we –
ask for, and receive, forgiveness,
learn to love our neighbor as ourselves,
find strength, in each other, to carry on.

It is where we look back, at what God has brought us through,
It is where we look around, at where God has brought us to,
It is where we look ahead, to where God will lead us next.

It is where we do all these things, together, in unison, as one.

We enter worship spaces with certain expectations.
We enter with our hopes, our fears, our dreams.

When what we encounter there is centered on worship of our Creator, over and above all else, we are nourished, comforted, made more complete. And when we encounter something else at the center of worship? It’ a sign something just might be amiss.

Temple
Jesus too was drawn worship spaces. He was from the beginning. His earthly parents went to Jerusalem for Passover every year, and did so religiously. As a teen, when mom and dad headed back on the long walk home from the temple, Jesus lingered there, for days.

It was a place he understood.
It was a place he loved.
It was his Father’s house, after all.

Jesus, more than any other, knew what his Father’s house was to be about.

They gathered there for Passover, which was a time to –

Commemorate God’s people being liberated from slavery.
Celebrate the passing over of a plague that spared their firstborn.
Remember the promise of a home they could one day call their own.

It was a look back, at what God brought the Israelites through,
It was a look around, at where God has brought God’s people to,
It was a look ahead, to where God would lead God’s beloved to next.

Jesus knew what to expect, heading into the temple that day. He was familiar with what went on there, when, and why.

But this time, as Jesus entered the worship space things were, well, different.
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Gone was the look back, around, ahead.

Instead there were merchants, buying and selling animals for sacrifice. All so people could be made clean. And if you didn’t have the temple’s preferred currency? No worries. Money changers would, for a fee, take care of that. All so people could purchase what they needed to get right with God.

These weren’t Girl Scouts selling cookies in the narthex after service.

It was instead salvation for sale.
And it was replacing worship of the God who saves.

God’s people had moved toward economic profit at the expense of spiritual gain.
A shift rife with pitfalls.

Seeing this Jesus was less than impressed. What follows is one of the more animated scenes in all of scripture. Christ raises his voice, flips tables, drives out animals, merchants, money. All with the help of a whip he made, right there on the spot. It’s a sign what he saw there that day needed to be addressed, and pronto.

Every time I read this passage it’s hard not to be reminded of Indiana Jones and that whip. Except this time the scene is from the Temple of, well, Jerusalem. ?

The scene has action, drama, tension. Gone were the animals. Gone were the merchants of means selling access to the divine. In their place simply Jesus. The one who would soon sacrifice himself for us all.

Tension
I have to be honest with you, this text really challenges me. It puts two things we highly value as a society, connecting with our Creator, and a market driven economy, in tension with each other.

We love our God.
We love our money.

Yet when it comes to what it is we worship, over and above all else, we can only choose one.

The text also brings into focus the nature of our salvation. Either we’re 1) working for it, paying our dues along the way to earn it, or 2) it’s a gift, price already paid by the life, death, and resurrection of Christ.

I’d suggest that worship spaces, and what we do in them, and how we access them are a gift from above, shared from people that love us.

Gift
The non-denominational mega churches of my youth? A gift from my parents, sowing the seeds of faith early on. The synagogue visits as a teen? A gift from a friend, showing me the diversity of ways we connect with our God. The Key West church organ recital? A gift from my wife on our honeymoon, helping to center faith within our marriage for years to come.

Best of all? There was never an admission fee for any of these visits. Just walk right in, connect with others, and experience the divine. No strings attached.

Sacred spaces are gifts from past generations before us.
They are gifts we hope to pass along for generations to come.

They are –

Where we look back, at what God has brought us through,
Where we look around, at where God has brought us to,
Where we look ahead, to where God will lead us next.

And the worship that happens in these spaces a reminder, that in this journey we’re on we are never alone. Just look around.

It is here where we gather, together, as one people.
In the prayers, the scriptures, the songs.
The water, the bread, the wine.

It is here where we give and receive support, encouragement, hope, helping each other along the way.

Oh we’ll collect an offering,
Tho that too is a gift, from the heart.

Not the center of why we are here.

So come, cleanse your soul, in confession, forgiveness, community. Gather in sacred spaces, like this one, to recenter, reflect, renew.

For salvation doesn’t hinge on what’s in your bank account. For Christ’s gift keeps on giving. We need only embrace the gift, celebrate it together, with others, sharing it the whole world round. Amen.