A message about gardening, crops, and the death penalty. 

About a month into the pandemic, mid-April or so, my wife Kathi and I decided to head to our front yard and garden. Perhaps we needed to escape a case of Covid-created cabin fever. Perhaps it was for the exercise, to loosen limbs, to remain limber. With so much of the trappings of life still shuttered perhaps it was simply to participate in something we could be certain of.

Gardening on your own land? No one is going to shut down this particular pandemic project.

As with any landscaping venture plenty of decisions had to be made. After settling on a basic design of what-goes-where – Kathi really has an eye for that – we got to work.

We trim, edge, pull, plant, replant.
We dig, grade, regrade, moving soil with reckless abandon.

One trip to Lowe’s for mulch became two,
then three,
then five.

We opt for 100% virgin cedar chips, the big chunky kind. Which I’d suggest is categorically superior to any other mulch available. Change my mind ?

As we work through the soil, removing debris, the plants we value most, the lilies, irises, tulips, lavender, black-eyed susans, begin to stand out more prominently. It beautifies the space nicely.

Other gardening decisions are more difficult. For those Kathi and I engage in round after round of a little game we playfully call weed or no weed.

“Hey honey,” I’ll holler across the lawn, “could you come look at this? Weed or no weed?” We then compare notes, share opinions, look at similar plants, and make the call.

Sometimes we agree. Other times? Less so.

Occasionally while gardening neighbors stop by, curious about the changes taking place. Sometimes they too give information, share opinions. Sometimes our neighbors also join in that fun little game, weed or no weed?

Sometimes we agree. Other times? Less so.

Plants lucky enough to be deemed no weed we manicure, water, fertilize. They become part of our grand gardening design. Showpieces we nurture, proudly show off, fixtures of our newly enhanced curb appeal.

Plants judged as weed meet a different fate. Those we remove, throw in a wheelbarrow and hurl into the ravine out back. A next-door neighbor likes to burn up ravine undergrowth each fall. Our weedy pile becomes part of that. So soon enough it all goes up in flames. And poof, those pulled plants are no more.

Weed or no weed? After being reduced to ashes it doesn’t much matter.

Wheat and Weeds
The second parable Jesus offers in Matthew 13 contains similar opportunities, similar challenges. In it Christ describes a wheat field, already planted. A field ready for rain, ready to grow, ready to produce. A field that, initially, is as it should be.

But amongst the wheat other seeds also appear, also begin to grow.

The workers notice this, and a variation of the game Kathi and I play begins. Wheat or no wheat? Sure they know which is which, the workers go to the landowner both with the problem and proposed solution. Your precious field of wheat has weeds, they share. Shall we go and gather them up? The wheat needs protecting, you know.

Surprisingly, the owner objects. For in removing one you would uproot the other, he explains. Let them both grow, together, until the harvest. At that point the reapers can separate them, placing the wheat in the barn, the weeds in the fire. But for now? Now is not that time.

The original audience for this parable likely knew well the challenges of the weed being described. Known in biblical terms as tares, roots of the bearded darnel surround those of good plants, sucking up precious nutrients, scarce water. This makes it near impossible to root them out without damaging the good crop. Above ground, darnel looks identical to wheat, until it bears seed. Plucked from the earth too soon and you can’t tell the two apart.

Weed or no weed? Wheat or no wheat? Good luck with that.

Gardening Revisited
A couple of weeks ago, after a six-week hiatus from front-yard gardening, my wife and I went back outside to inspect our work. Some new weeds had popped up; we quickly remove the new offenders. No big decisions there.

But nestled among the tiger lilies we noticed a now-massive clump of grass. It looks entirely out of place. “Why’d we keep the grass?” I wonder? “No clue,” Kathi replies. “Guess we got that one wrong.”

Separately, we move to the side yard, tackling landscaping initially ignored. There we spot huge plants that vaguely resemble bamboo. When the ground weeds outside your first-floor planters start hitting your second-floor windows, well, something has to give.

As we remove the behemoths, I line up the pulled plants on our lawn, identify the tallest, take a photo with the winner, and post it on Facebook for fun.

Among the comments people give about the silly photo, friend Brian Meyer mentioned hey, that’s edible. Jug of olive oil and a great big frying pan. I ask him about it, and after some research, a name emerges: tall blue lettuce.

Lettuce. Huh. That may be a weed where it was planted, but like wheat, it’s edible. Next time I just might try that recipe.

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This week
Five days ago, on July 14, our US government executed Daniel Lee, by lethal injection. He was 47. The Supreme Court cleared the way for Daniel’s death with a 5-4 vote. Their order was unsigned, sent after 2 a.m. the previous night.

Three days ago, on July 16, our government executed Wesley Purkey. He was 68.

Two days ago, July 17, our government executed Dustin Honken. He was 52. You might recognize the name. Dustin is an Iowan, his crimes committed in the early 1990s. While in prison he converted to Catholicism. His last words Friday morning, before dying were, “Hail Mary, Mother of God, pray for me.”

These three men represent the first federal executions, in the US, in 17 years. Each occurred earlier this week over the span of four days.

More federal executions are in the pipeline.
Precedence has now been set.
These stories don’t look to be going away any time soon.

Weed or no weed
Looking out at God’s garden, thinking about these men, we too might be tempted to play the weed or no weed game.

We may compare notes with friends, share opinions with neighbors, look at similar people, and make the call. What’d they do? What do they deserve? Weed or no weed?

Sometimes we’ll agree. Other times? Less so.

People lucky enough to be deemed no weed we rehabilitate, retrain, sometimes replant in more fertile soil, looking for signs of new growth.

People judged as weed meet a different fate. Some we lock up and throw away the keys.
Others, like the three US men executed last week we strap to a gurney, insert two IVs, one in each arm, press a button, and wait for the end.

Weed or no weed? After a person stops breathing, and has no pulse, it doesn’t much matter.

Pivot
And yet Christ’s parable about the wheat and the weeds seems clear.

Good seed and bad seed mixed together?

Leave it alone.
Let them both grow.
It can be tough to tell the two apart.
And you can hurt the one by removing the other.

What may make for lousy gardening or farming advice, looks a little different when we’re talking about people.

Often this parable is understood in binary terms; some seeds being good, others evil. By extension we may assume some people good, others evil.

Lutheran theology pushes against this oversimplified view. Each of us can be understood as both saint and sinner, at all times. We have our halos, and we have our horns. And we each have within us seeds of goodness, right alongside seeds of folly.

Which seeds within us bear fruit at any given moment? This is the stuff of life.

Yet when life is snuffed out prematurely, gone is the chance for redemption, transformation, growth into what we are called to be.

When we trade the turning of a cheek with an eye for an eye something has gone wrong.

When we confuse justice with vengeance nothing good will come.

Weed or no weed?
When we play the game with people we just might it wrong, hurting others along the way.

Weed or no weed?
When it comes to God’s children, planted here by divine design, Christ chimes in: it is not for us to say.

Take your Bible and take your newspaper, and read both.  But interpret newspapers from your Bible.  That famous advice comes from theologian Karl Barth. I try to keep it in mind every time I approach the pulpit.

The quote is a reminder that current events matter. And should be interpreted through the lens of scripture. Without that linkage, our texts devolve into mere stories from a bygone era, perhaps good for high school English class but not much more. Sure, the Epic of Gilgamesh makes for great reading. It’s history. It’s ancient culture. It’s, well, epic. But it is there, not here. Then, not now.

But with the linkage of current events and scripture? Scripture becomes alive, able to inform how we think, feel, believe, and live out Christ’s call into the world around.

So what I’d like to do today is to pair the newspaper and the Bible together in a very specific way.

I’ve got my bible right here. And a newspaper too, the good ‘ol Ames Tribune – support local media when you can.

And I’ve got my morning coffee too. The only difference between this setup here and what you’re likely rocking at home are pajamas, slippers and a couch. Perhaps we’ll add those touches to the service for next week ?

So sit back, grab a cup of coffee if you like, and listen in to scripture alongside news.

First, our scripture reading.

“Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me. Whoever welcomes a prophet in the name of a prophet will receive a prophet’s reward; and whoever welcomes a righteous person in the name of a righteous person will receive the reward of the righteous; and whoever gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones in the name of a disciple—truly I tell you, none of these will lose their reward.” (Matthew 10:40-42)

The word welcome shows up six times in just three verses here. Four times in the first sentence alone. From this it’s safe to say Christ thought this concept of welcome was pretty important.

As you listen in to the news, try and home in on examples of people being welcomed – or not. Listen for examples of God’s children being embraced. Or being pushed away.

And as you listen, reflect on these five words from Christ: whoever welcomes you welcomes me. Let those words be a guide for each story here.

Let’s see what the newspaper holds…

Colonial Heights gun range to Black Lives Matter: ‘You’re not welcome here’
June 18, NBC12, Richmond Virginia

There are strong sentiments after a Colonial Heights business posted a sign in its store saying if you’re associated with Black Lives Matter, “you’re not welcome here.” The company received a huge amount of backlash in just a matter of hours.

The store’s customers said they love going to The Smoking Gun, saying the staff is friendly and professional. It’s why so many were taken off guard by a sign that left them hurt.

“Where you go to pay, it’s right there. You can’t miss it,” Jhovan Galberth said pointing to the sign.

“If you are anti-police, anti-military, associated with Cop Block, {or} Black Lives Matter (because all lives matter), stay off of my range. You are not welcome here. Period,” the sign says.

“I thought it was a joke. I didn’t think that it was real…At this time, this is definitely one of those ideas you kind of want to keep to yourself at this moment. It’s just something that would cause more pain than anything,” Randus Ayres, owner of nearby restaurant Charlotte’s Chicken and Waffles, said.

NBC12 reached out to the company by Facebook and called but didn’t get a response. After this story was published the sign has since been removed.

Whoever welcomes you, welcomes me.

Are God’s children being embraced here?  What is scripture trying to say?

Ames and ISU police departments discuss use of force, police complaints during virtual town hall
June 12, Ames Tribune

Across the nation, protests are actively calling for accountability and defunding of police departments, an end to racially-biased police initiatives, and a structural overhaul of systemic racism in America.

The protests, often under the umbrella of the Black Lives Matter movement, have created conversations in local communities regarding the future of policing and their contentious relationship with black Americans.

The conversation went local as Ames leaders and representatives from both Ames and Iowa State University police departments tackled their relationships with the Ames community and an overview of their procedures and conduct.

″(Ames) City Council and I as mayor are grieved by not only what has transpired the past few weeks nationally, with respect to multiple killings of black men and women but also the discrimination and injustice the black community has experienced for decades,” said Mayor John Haila during his opening remarks on Thursday’s virtual town hall.

He added, “We need to commit to working together to strengthen our community, in order that every person, regardless of their color, race, creed, sex, national origin, religion, ancestry, disability, sexual orientation or gender identity or socioeconomic status feel welcome and are treated equally (in Ames).”

Whoever welcomes you, welcomes me.

How are we doing with our welcome here in Ames?  What could we do better?

US Catholic Bishops President and Migration Committee Welcome Supreme Court Decision on DACA
June 18, US Conference of Catholic Bishops press release

Today, the U.S. Supreme Court issued an opinion preventing the Trump Administration from terminating the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program. On November 12, 2019, the Court heard the challenge to the Trump Administration’s DACA repeal efforts, in which U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) submitted a brief in support of maintaining the program.

The DACA program was implemented in 2012 and has enabled approximately 800,000 young people, who paid a fee and submitted to a background check, the opportunity to work legally, access educational opportunities and not fear deportation. DACA recipients on average contribute over $42 billion annually to the U.S. economy.

“We welcome the U.S. Supreme Court’s decision noting that the Administration did not follow proper administrative procedures required to repeal the DACA program,” the press release reads.

“First, to DACA youth, through today’s decision and beyond, we will continue to accompany you and your families. You are a vital part of our Church and our community of faith. We are with you.

“Next, we urge the President to strongly reconsider terminating DACA. In times of uncertainty, let us remember the teachings of the Gospel which encourage us to be open and receptive to those in need: ‘If someone who has worldly means sees a brother in need and refuses him compassion, how can the love of God remain in him?’ (1 John 3:17). In this moment, we must show compassion and mercy for the vulnerable.”

Whoever welcomes you, welcomes me.  

How do we welcome and care for people from other lands?  Scripture says something about that I think…better look that one up later.

Visas Allowing Hundreds of Thousands of Foreigners to Work in the US suspended
June 22, The New York Times

President Trump on Monday temporarily suspended new work visas and barred hundreds of thousands of foreigners from seeking employment in the United States, part of a broad effort to limit the entry of immigrants into the country.

In a sweeping order, which will be in place at least until the end of the year, visas were blocked for a wide variety of jobs, including those for computer programmers and other skilled workers who enter the country under the H-1B visa, as well as those for seasonal workers in the hospitality industry, students on work-study summer programs and au pairs who arrive under other auspices.

The order also blocks the spouses of foreigners who are employed at companies in the United States.

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“Putting up a ‘not welcome’ sign for workers won’t help our country, it will hold us back,” said Thomas J. Donohue, the chief executive of the U.S. Chamber of Commerce.

“Restrictive changes to our nation’s immigration system will push investment and economic activity abroad, slow growth and reduce job creation.”

Whoever welcomes you, welcomes me.

How are we called to welcome the stranger, the foreigner, people from other lands?  Scripture says something about that too i think…better dive into the good book some more.

Music, Marriage, a Happy Life in the Church. Now, Harder Times
June 24, New York Times

The wedding ceremony for two women, Terry Gonda and Kirsti Reeve was a joyful occasion attended by 180 friends and family, complete with white wedding dresses and veils, handmade origami table decorations and songs from their church choir.

Now Ms. Gonda, 59, was notified that she was going to be fired this week from her part-time job as a music director at the St. John Fisher Chapel, a church in Auburn Hills, Mich.
Monsignor Michael LeFevre, the pastor of St. John Fisher who has supported the couple since he learned of their marriage five years ago, delivered the news in an email, saying the archdiocese had recently learned about it too.

Monsignor LeFevre’s email came June 12, just three days before the Supreme Court ruled that employers couldn’t fire workers based on their sexual orientation or gender identity.

The firing of Ms. Gonda came after church leaders sent a letter to priests in metro Detroit, forbidding them to hold masses for Dignity Detroit and Fortunate Families, support groups for parishioners who are part of the L.G.B.T.Q. community and their families.

The couple has been inundated with cards and calls of support. Some longtime members of the parish, as well as some members of the choir, are contemplating a switch to a different, more welcoming church.

Whoever welcomes you, welcomes me. 

Whoa.

A New RIC Community: Reformation Lutheran Church
June 18, ReconcilingWorks website

Help us welcome the newest Reconciling in Christ (RIC) community: Reformation Lutheran Church (Brookfield, WI).

Their welcome statement reads:

“We, Reformation Lutheran Church, Brookfield, have prayerfully journeyed together to become a Reconciling In Christ Congregation.

We celebrate that all persons are created in God’s image.

We embrace each person’s sacred wisdom.

We welcome persons of all sexual orientations, gender identities, and gender expressions to share in community life.

We declare that we welcome persons of all abilities, of any ethnicity, economic status, family makeup or age.

As children of God:
We commit to being a Reconciling in Christ Congregation, which extends hospitality, encouragement and full participation.”

Whoever welcomes you, welcomes me.

Now that’s rolling out the red carpet.  What a welcome.

Close

Too often we hold the tenants of our faith in one hand, and current events in the other. Keeping them apart, when the former should be influencing the latter.

Yet scripture is the sacred tool that helps us interpret the world around, including –
Black Lives Matter
Immigration reform
LGBTQ+ rights

Whoever welcomes you, welcomes me, Christ reminds.

This isn’t simply a matter of following the words of Christ – tho if it were just that it would be enough. For when we follow our faith in this way there-in lies a holy reward.

We are rewarded with a diversity of music, food and culture across all of creation.
We are rewarded with joy, laughter, knowing each other so much more than we currently do.
Most importantly – we are rewarded with neighbors, friends, communities that more closely resemble the entirety of God’s kingdom.

For there will be no white heaven, or black heaven, US heaven or Mexico heaven, straight heaven or gay heaven. It is all just heaven – a divine melting pot that includes everything around.

To bring heaven here, to earth, joining together all of creation.

That’s *our* job description; that’s *our* reward.

To unite. Not to divide.

So welcome one another. For when we do, we welcome Christ into our midst.

Allowing ancient texts to influence modern ones.
Becoming part of God’s welcome change in the world.

Right here.
Right now.
Amen.

If you love me, keep my commandments.

Seven little words.
Packed with so much.

By the time Jesus spoke them he’d journeyed for three years with the twelve. Their time together, here on earth, would soon be done.

Jesus had talked about it.
Judas had left to betray.
Peter was about to deny.

The disciples wondered what would come next.
Pondered if perhaps the party was over.
Worried over what it all could possibly mean.

If you love me.

The first four words seem simple enough. Christ’s time spent with the twelve had brought them all close.

They were –

A band of brothers,
Partners in ministry,
Compadres on a mission from God.

Yet the way Christ phrased it left some room to ponder.

Did they love Christ?

Looking back we know many did.

It’s these next three words that may have given the group more pause.

Keep my commandments.

Commandments, at first blush seems like such heavy language.

A have to.
A required action.
An obligation to comply.

The Israelites of scripture knew plenty about commandments. With over 600 of them initially imagine the challenge of staying on top of each. Recognizing this God whittled the list down to 10.

That list was straightforward, easy to understand.

Don’t kill.
Don’t steal.
Don’t cheat.

Yet God’s people struggled to keep up with these too.
More synthesis, a refining of what it’s all about, was in order.

Enter Christ.

His presence among us moved the concept of honoring God from written word to lived reality. Every prayer, sermon, shared meal, every miracle, conversation, temptation, all of it modeled, in the flesh, what it is to be aligned with the divine.

Yet with a large body of work to draw from – yeah gospels – sometimes still, a good summary resonates best.

So when Christ was asked what the greatest commandment was, the list was refined once again, down to two.

#1 Love the Lord your God – and
#2 Love your neighbor as yourself

For on these two commands hang all the others.

If you love me, keep my commandments.

Said differently, marrying today’s text with the greatest commandment, we could say this:

If you love me, love your neighbor.

Perhaps that strikes the ear a little differently.

Loving your neighbor, at first blush has a certain lightness to it.

A doing for others.
A way to show care.
A matter of heart.

Created by love, we believe we should imitate the Creator’s love.

Commands
Our country – really our world – has had an awful lot of command language of late, doesn’t it, coming from various halls of power.

Declarations from the governor.
Press conferences from the White House.
Guidance from the CDC.

Each command, urging you, one way or another, to comply.

Reopen business.
Get kids back to school.
Worship in person, once again.

Or not.
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Or not.

We’re being asked –
To trust our politicians;
To heed the wisdom of science;
To get our economy churning, once again.

We’re being asked to be part of all this –
At varying speeds, varying priorities, varying processes.

So many voices.
So many commands.
So many differing perspectives.

To be honest, it’s really, really, REALLY hard to know what to make of it all.

Should we social distance?
Wear masks in public?
Wait for widespread testing?
Consider contact tracing?
Wait, ultimately, for vaccine?

From a secular viewpoint it seems that no one can really quite agree.

So many commands.
And now, so very much time.

Neighbor
In the midst of all these commands, let us not forget the greatest one of all.

Love your neighbor.

Love your –
Immigrant neighbor
Minority neighbor
Gay neighbor
Medical-care provider neighbor
Grocery store clerk neighbor
Meat plant worker neighbor
Unemployed neighbor
Small business neighbor
Vulnerable populations neighbor
Immune compromised neighbor
Healthy neighbor
Sick neighbor

Your neighbor that has lost so much they don’t know where to begin.

Love them all.
Just as much, or perhaps more, than you love yourself.
This is the way.

For if we love Christ there’s some follow-up in order.

Christ asks we love our neighbor, as the central, unifying way we go about living into the world around. Christ asks this love of neighbor to be the lens through which we view all else. Christ asks that the love of neighbor shine through through every fragment of our being.

From our beliefs to our politics to how we treat everyone around.

This is Christ’s command.
Love your neighbor.

Paradox
In Martin Luther’s work, the Freedom of a Christian, Luther concludes this:

A Christian is perfectly free lord of all, subject to none.

The red-blooded meat eater in me loves that. We’re perfectly free, thanks to the life, death and resurrection of Christ. Sounds downright American. Go out and do your thing. Yeah freedom!

Luther then continues:

A Christian is a perfectly dutiful servant of all, subject to all.

Which means, as Christians, we are also called to a life of service. To serve our neighbor. To love our neighbor. To cause them no harm. Every single one.

Close
As the pandemic continues, we too –

Wonder what will come next;
Ponder if perhaps the party is over;
Worry over what it all could possibly mean.

As the pandemic evolves, there is much to learn, much to do, likely much to wait for. And there will continue to be an awful lot of commandments vying for our attention.

Commandments from –
governments,
organizations,
groups,
schools,
businesses,
and more.

As you sift through, and consider, and try to make sense of it all, and how best to respond, first, remember Christ’s seven little words:

If you love me, love your neighbor.

For all other commands, both secular and divine, are best lived out through the lens of this one. Amen.

About three years ago, over four days in June 2017, while still living in Florida, I went to prison. The story is a fun one to tell church folk because, if you phrase it right, and add a bit of inflection just so, it can’t help but raise an eyebrow.

Yes folks, this pastor went to prison.

Thought you should know ?

My prison-going happened to coincide with early conversations with Bethesda’s call committee. Which provided an opportunity to leave committee co-chair Cameron Aisenbrey a rather unfortunate voicemail. “I’d love to hear more about this opportunity,” I said, “but I’ll be unavailable, at least for a few days, and behind bars.” Cameron, thank you again for putting up with that possibly misplaced humor, and continuing the conversation about what could be.

Prison
Admittedly this time behind bars was part of a prison ministry gathering; nothing overly controversial.

Each day our group of a few dozen left behind phones, wallets, belts. We entered the maximum-security prison with only our clothes, photo id, nametag.

The compound was bordered by high, razor wire topped fences, creating very real separation for those within from the world around.

Once inside we joined another few dozen men, each who call this compound home. We then got to the task at hand: to learn more about each other; more about the Christian faith.

While there we heard conversations of what had been lost. Tales of the wives, girlfriends, children the men had been separated from. The jobs, the cars, the homes no longer theirs. The friends and relatives, once close, close no more.

We heard talk of recent news, and rumors too. Hopes of transfers soon, lawyers with ideas, early releases planned. Hope of getting back to the way things were, away from the current state of things. Hopes to reengage, with the outside world, once again.

It was tough to tell which hopes were real, which merely wishful thinking. Looking back, perhaps that distinction, between the two, didn’t really matter. There was hope still, for people with seemingly so little.

Perhaps, for now, that was enough.

We heard talk of acceptance of the way things were. With parole possibilities for some diminished, hope was replaced with peace, even joy. Joy from little things; joking with friends, reading a good book, discovering a new hobby.

Peace and joy? Those were fruits of the spirit I hadn’t expected to see growing in an environment so harsh.

While there together we ate. Oh we ate. The tables we broke bread at were filled with BBQ, chips, deserts, and soda; treats not normally available in the prison mess halls.

When basic needs are met, with care, and with love, we can be open to so very much more.

We journeyed together, these four days, learning the basics of Christianity via scripture, sermon, creed. Via testimony, prayer, song.

Trust was built. Relationships warmed. Faith, in this dark place, flourished.

The final Sunday morning we gathered alongside 100 other men in a jam-packed prison chapel for their regular weekly service. Together we fellow children of God belted out sacred words from a well-worn hymn.

Amazing Grace, how sweet, the sound, that saved a wretch, like me,
I once was lost, but now am found, was blind, but now I see.

A hymn that, in this context, took on new meaning.

In that moment I realized something. Christ hadn’t magically appeared through talk and meal and song. Christ had been present with us, in and through all of it. And had been, the entire time.

Road
Two thousand years ago there was another gathering of note. This gathering was smaller; only two men at first. And freer; out on the open road, going from one town to the next. And shorter; a one-day trek of seven miles. Yet similar to the backdrop of incarceration, these were also dark times. For Jesus had been killed but a few days before.

Which left much to speak of, much to ponder, much to question.

Early in their journey a stranger joined, walking alongside the two.

We know who this stranger is.
The two men, at the time, did not.
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The two told the one of their loss. They were now separated from someone they loved deeply. They recounted sermons, parables, miracles gone by. They recalled words and actions filled with peace, hope, brighter tomorrows.

Brighter tomorrows that, as far as they could tell, were no more.

The two told the one of recent news, and rumors too. With the loss still fresh, people were starting to talk about some crazy stuff. Things like empty tombs, visions of angels, rumors of resurrection. Women were talking, disciples too, of what it all could possibly mean.

The two told the one it was tough to know what to make of any of this. They wondered what, if any of it, could be true. The rumors at least provided some hope. A chance of faint light, at the end of the tunnel, to see them through.

And, for now at least, that was enough.

The one then spoke to the two, sharing so much the men desperately needed to hear. He spoke of what prophets declared, and how difficult it is, at times, to believe. He interpreted, piece by piece, scripture of what it is a Messiah must be.

As they neared their destination, the stranger walked ahead, as if he were continuing on. The two must have been drawn to the words of the one, because they asked him to stay with them for a while more.

For it was evening, and the day was almost done.

The one took the bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to the two. The three then shared a meal, together at the table.

In that moment the eyes of the two were opened. Jesus hadn’t been lost. He wasn’t merely rumored to be alive. Christ was present on their journey through talk, teaching, a shared meal among friends. Christ had been present with them, in and through all of it. And had been, the entire time.

Home
Our days of late have been defined more by what isn’t than what is. Yet we’re still talking, still in relationship. Still sharing, albeit from afar. Still trying to figure out what to make of it all.

We share conversations of loss. Jobs lost, diminished, or redefined; each creating burdens of their own. Freedoms to move and gather, together, drastically cut back. Physical health declining for some. Friends and family at risk more so than before. Mental health, for each of us, at times, hanging precipitously by a thread.

We talk of recent news, and rumors too. Hopes of curves flattened, supplies restocked, health restored. Hopes of restaurants, salons and bars reopened. Hopes of worship, together, and hugs, and handshakes and high-fives, God-knows-when.

Hopes of getting back to how things were, away from the current state of things.
Hopes to reengage, with the outside world, once again.

It can be tough, at times, for us to tell which hopes are real, which merely wishful thinking.

Perhaps that distinction, between the two, matters less than we estimate. Perhaps the hopes we cling to, for now, are enough.

We talk of acceptance of the way things are. Of books read, puzzles assembled, television binged, worship livestreamed, hobbies rediscovered, flowers planted, families reconnecting from afar. Peace and joy, during our time of confinement, it seems, is possible still.

We talk of meals enjoyed, cooking more, baking too, even as fewer gather at our tables. We still take the bread, bless it, break it, and share with those we can. In the disruption of so many traditions upended, we return to the communal meal to find our strength. Strength to carry on for the upcoming, unknown journey ahead.

And somewhere, between the books and puzzles, work and school, livestreams, shows, hobbies and meals prepared – we pray God opens our eyes too.

We pray God reveal a Christ present during our journey, walking alongside us wherever we go. Wherever we stay.

And he walks with me, and he talks with me,
And he tells me I am his own,
And the joy we share,
As we tarry there,
None other has ever known.

For Christ has been present with us, in and through all of it.

Yesterday, today, and forever.  Amen.

A Last Supper poem, in a time of social distancing

We remember a gathering, in person, of friends,
of more than ten; twelve plus one, to be sure.
They were there, those thirteen, at a banquet of joy,
a gathering, both holy, and pure.

These friends were so close, in so many ways,
for three years, in synch, with the Son.
Walking and talking, and pondering and laughing,
learning, together, as One.

These friends were so close, in so many ways,
they sat, side-by-side, a table did share,
Food and drink, clothes and bodies, all near,
hearts and minds, souls and spirits laid bare.

Christ knew a betrayer, of him, was near,
they fought over who that could be.
Christ knew a denier, of him, was there too,
not once, but thrice, did Peter decree.

They weren’t perfect, these twelve,
yet they cared, for the One,
in ways we relate to, today.

They weren’t perfect, these twelve,
yet they cared, for the One,
in ways we model, we pray.

While there, at the table, Christ took bread,
broke it, gave thanks, praises be:
It’s my body, given, for you, my friend;
Do this, for the remembrance, of me.

While there, at the table, he then took the cup,
gave thanks, giving drink, praises be:
This cup, is a covenant, in my blood
(and a new one, at that)
Do this, for the remembrance, of me.

For as often as you drink, this cup,
For as often as you eat, this bread,
You proclaim the Lord’s death, for all time,
‘til he comes, once again, in his stead.

The twelve listened, partook, remembered,
all that within Christ’s command.
They realized, eventually, the meaning,
and what would soon be at hand.

They repeated this meal, repeatedly,
a new ritual, it seems, had begun.
With new friends, new spaces, new vigor,
new ways, new cultures, new tongues.

It caught on so well, so often,
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It caught on so well, so often,
Millennia later, we remember it still.

We remember the gatherings, right here at Bethesda!
Of counts more than ten, to be sure.
We were here, in the hundreds, hearts overflowing,
in ways that could spiritually cure.

We friends were so close, in so many ways,
In-person for years, even decades were we.
Walking and talking, pondering and laughing,
Learning together, what it is, to simply be.

We friends were so close, in so many ways,
some by pew, some by chair, did we meet.
Food and drink, clothes and bodies, all near,
in distances, yep, less than six feet!

Like disciples, we friends, aren’t perfect, for sure,
at times we too, betray and deny.
But we gathered together, again and again.
To cheer a savior, hands held high.

So while we can’t gather, in person,
honoring one fully God, fully man.
We can come together, by virtual means,
doing the very best that we can.

We can:

Still pray,
Still preach,
Still sing,

Still text,
Still email,
Still ring.

Still give,
Still connect,
Still share,

Still comfort,
Still serve,
Still care.

We can still remember,
in the bread, and in the cup,
despite being physically apart.

For where two or more gather,
in Christ’s name,
be it here, be it there,
it is simply a matter, of heart.