Walking with the Paraklete

The Sixth Sunday of Easter

A sermon based on John 14:15-21

In the name of Jesus; amen.

Last week I told you all about this crazy detox I am going through and how I have had to give up several food items I really and truly enjoy. In place of the things I’ve given up I’ve had to add some things and one of those things is exercise, specifically walking.

Now I have always enjoyed walking, but I have never really seemed to have the energy to do it and strangely enough eating fruits and vegetables instead of chips and cookies has given me some energy and I have started walking 2 miles almost daily.

Friday the Princess Kitty had to have her tonsils out, but her surgery wasn’t scheduled until 1pm which meant that I had time to go for my walk in the morning. I’ve started walking at Baumer’s pond across from Lantern Park Condominiums and the Princess Kitty knows it because the daycare often walks there in the summer time for field trips.

So Hubby had the crazy idea that he and the Princess Kitty should come along and after making it very clear that my walking was serious business they agreed that they wouldn’t interfere and that they would just hang out until I was done my 2 miles.

We got to the pond and I put on my headphones and cued up my walking music. I waved to them and was off to start my first lap. When I was about ¾ of the way around I ran into them. They both stopped and began to cheer me on. The next time around the Princess Kitty pretended to be holding a microphone and interviewing me. On another lap Hubby did the wave- all by himself.

On my 5th lap (it takes 6 laps to equal 2 miles) they stopped to cheer me on and another walker commented that she really liked my cheering section to which I responded, “”Yeah, I should bring them along every time.”

Jesus said, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever.”

The word that John uses for Advocate is Paraklete.

The Greek word Paraklete has been translated as Comforter, Helper, Counselor, and Advocate but no single translation captures all the aspects of the Christian meaning of the word. Paraklete is composed of two root words that mean "one called to your side." It was used to describe a person who stood up with another who was on trial or under pressure. It was not a lawyer in the sense that we now think of lawyers or advocates; the paraklete didn't speak to the judge, s/he spoke with the person on trial encouraging and helping them through it.

Hubby and the Princess Kitty were my parakletes on Friday. As silly as it was it was really great to have them there as I started to feel the burn in my legs and the desire to stop and just sit down.

It felt good knowing that each time I passed them they were supporting me and cheering me on.

It felt so good in fact that when the other walker who had made the comment about them cheering me on was doing her last lap as we were leaving the 3 of us stopped and cheered for her.

“Whoo-Hoo! Way to Go! You Can Do It! Keep Up the Good Work! Don’t Stop Now!”

This is how the Holy Spirit works. The Paraklete gives us encouragement in our walk of faith. The Spirit resides in us, just as Jesus says, but the Spirit also stands at those pivotal moments in our lives and offers us encouragement, and comfort, and help, and counsel.

Sometimes the Spirit does this by cheering us on, “Whoo-Hoo! Way to Go! You Can Do It! Keep Up the Good Work! Don’t Stop Now!” Sometimes the Spirit does this by pushing us through that last lap. Sometimes the Spirit does it by showing us how much we are loved by God through the love of family and friends or through the kindness of strangers.

And the Paraklete is with us always; the one whom God sends us because Jesus asks that we not be left alone is there to keep us on the path of faith and to bring us back when we stray. And to push us towards others to share with them the same encouragement, and comfort, and help, and counsel we have been given.

May you feel the presence of the Paraklete in your life, cheering you on, Whoo-Hoo! Way to Go! You Can Do It! Keep Up the Good Work! Don’t Stop Now!”

Amen.

Yummy

The Fifth Sunday of Easter.

A sermon based on Psalm 31:1-5, 15-16; 1 Peter 2:2-10, and John 14:1-14

In the name of Jesus; amen.

On Tuesday I started doing something radical: I went on a detoxification diet and I’ve been complaining about it ever since. For 3 weeks all I can eat is fruits, vegetables, simply cooked lean meat, organic eggs, brown rice, and these special shakes that are nice and grainy. My only saving grace is that I am also allowed to have sea salt and extra virgin olive oil (within reason). And since Tuesday I have been cranky because of the lack of all the wonderful things I usually eat like bread and chocolate and coffee.

So yesterday, while others were here at church doing the spring clean-up I was in Torrington at the first Mission Area Assembly for the southwest part of our synod. I got there right as worship began. It was an interesting service.

St Paul’s in Torrington has a puppet ministry and a youth group which does a contemporary kind of liturgical dance which they performed for us in place of a sermon. But my heart was only half into the service until we got to the beginning of communion and I realized that I could drink the wine. I was only slightly disappointed that they had wafers instead of a huge loaf of bread which might likely have made me start to speak in tongues right there in the pew in which I sat.

“Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow into salvation- if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good.”

There have been other times when I have yearned for communion; times when I’ve gone to church and needed to eat and drink the body and blood of Jesus Christ. I remember the Sunday before the funeral for the father of one of my dearest friends. Scott and I were on our way to Virginia to mourn his terrible loss and had spent the night with his mother and went to church with her before hitting the road.

I needed communion that day, but they only served it every other Sunday and this wasn’t one of the “on” Sundays. I felt starved for the spiritual food that is the holy supper as we headed for 95 South that afternoon.

There have been many, many times when I have needed that sustenance and perhaps, hopefully, you all can say the same. Sometimes the food of communion is the only thing that will satisfy what is missing inside, but never, never before have I cared so much about what it tasted like.

“Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow into salvation- if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good.”

These words of Peter may very well have been spoken to new Christians, those who had only just been baptized and joined the rest of the community at the table. They would have been like infants, newborn in the faith and the words of Peter would have been good advice to them: long for the pure, spiritual milk the way that newborn babes long for their mother’s breast. Long for the sustenance that helps you grow into salvation, because you know, if you have already tasted it, that the Lord is good.

The Lord tastes good and everything else follows after that. Tasting that the Lord is good helps us to hand over to God our very spirits as the psalmist writes: “Into your hands I commend my spirit, for you have redeemed me, O LORD, God of truth.”

Tasting that the Lord is good makes us living stones, building blocks that form a house, a dwelling place for God in this world.

Just as God, the Father, makes dwellings for us in the next world, we are created to be dwellings for God in this world.

Tasting that the Lord is good satisfies us and our need for mercy. The food that is God makes us a “chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that (we) may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called (us) out of darkness into (the) marvelous light.”

Yearn for it, this stuff that tastes like mercy. It is the stuff that nourishes our souls so that we may grow into the salvation that God so wants for us.

May it delight your senses; tantalize your taste buds, and fortify your will to serve God and neighbor.

Amen.

I shall not want

The Fourth Sunday of Easter Year A

A sermon based on the 23rd Psalm.

In the name of Jesus; amen.

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

Well, actually there are lots of things that I want. I want some new clothes. I want a nicer car or maybe to fix up the one I already have. I want new furniture for my house. I want a little more money. I want to go on vacation… well, you get the idea.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

Whenever I go online the page I see on my computer has a word of the day. I usually don’t take much notice to the words, except when one catches my eye because it looks strange. Last night one of the words was “penury” and I decided to click on it to find out what it means.

penury: DEFINITION: (noun) Extreme want or poverty; destitution. SYNONYMS: indigence, pauperism, pauperization, beggary, need.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

This past week Rachel, Scott, and I watched American Idol Gives Back. They raised over 60 million dollars from people calling in and making donations or going on line and charging their credit cards. The money they raised is meant to go to people all over the world, especially children who live in a state of extreme want.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

Growing up my parents spent a great deal of time trying to get me to understand the difference between the things that I needed and the things that I wanted. Needs were much more important than wants. I didn’t always get what I wanted, but I almost always had everything that I needed.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

It’s hard to understand the concept of shepherd. We don’t live in a society where there are a lot of shepherds. So it’s easy to romanticize the notions of shepherds tending their sheep. I think I mention this every time I preach on Good Shepherd Sunday perhaps because each year that I prepare for Good Shepherd Sunday I find the same information:

Shepherds were dirty, on the fringe of society; they were necessary, but not well thought of. Sheep are stupid animals. They have a tendency to stray. They have to be well guarded. They flock together for safety because it makes it harder for predators to pick them off.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

It’s a popular psalm for funerals. Maybe because of the 4th verse which says, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”

But the purpose of a real shepherd’s staff is meant to push the sheep along, sometimes fairly roughly or to beat off the wolves that prey on the flock.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

To identify with this psalm means that we have to identify with being sheep, and not just sheep happily grazing in the pasture, but sheep being lead out of the safety of our pens into a world where predators wait for us, where the valley of the shadow of death is a real pathway.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

But even more so, to identify with this psalm, this well beloved psalm means understanding that it is Jesus who is our shepherd. Jesus is the shepherd whose rod isn’t just a comfort, but a protection against the enemy. Jesus is the shepherd whose staff isn’t just a comfort, but a prod meant to lead us out into the world.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

This is the anti-penury psalm. (Remember that penury is extreme want.) It is the abundance psalm; the psalm of overflowing cups and restored souls. It is the anti-fear psalm; the psalm of comfort even in the valley of the shadow of death. It is the anti-loner psalm; the psalm of being lead to green pastures, still waters, and right pathways.

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

Lead by Jesus it’s not just our needs that are taken care of, but all of our wants. This is a psalm of grace because Jesus is our shepherd and Jesus does lead us.

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.

Amen.

In the breaking of the bread

Easter 3 Year A.

A Sermon based on

Luke 24:13-35

In the name of Jesus; amen.

I want you to think for a moment about a meal you remember. What made it so memorable? Was it part of a celebration? Was it with family or friends? Did something terrible happen? Was there a fight? Was the food so good that your mouth begins to water when you think about it?

I remember the meal after my best friend’s mother’s funeral. Her parents were divorced, but had remained friends and even lived down the street from one another. Her father’s new wife hated to go to funerals and instead stayed at her mother’s house the entire day cooking and setting out tables and tables of food; wonderful, delicious food that we ate and ate while we talked about Phyllis and what life would be like without her.

I remember the meal I ate one birthday at a restaurant called Zino’s. I was a little kid, but I wanted a double shrimp cocktail and a coke. For some reason my parents didn’t want me to have caffeine that night and instead I ate my shrimp with chocolate milk.

I remember the meal at my wedding, though the only thing I got to eat was a bite of corn before getting my dress bustled for my first dance with my new husband.

Growing up I remember eating meals with my family. Sitting at the dinner table together seemed like a sacred time. When we became a 2 television household the second TV was kept in the kitchen, but we were rarely ever allowed to watch it while we ate.

Despite the fact that most families today all eat together for dinner on a regular nightly basis, the idea of sharing a meal together has significance.

The two disciples on the road that Sunday were headed to a village called Emmaus. We know the name of one of them: Cleopas. It would make some sense that the other disciple with him was his wife and that they were headed home after what was an emotional weekend in Jerusalem.

They had been followers of Jesus and while they weren’t part of the twelve who had followed him most closely, they had followed closely enough to have been called disciples. As they traveled to their destination they were doing what many of us might do in a long car ride home from a funeral: they were processing the events that they had just been a part of.

While they walked another traveler fell into step with them and struck up a conversation. “Hey, what are you guys talking about?”

Luke says that they stood still, looking sad until Cleopas, somewhat astonished that this stranger would ask such a stupid question, tells him everything.

They begin to walk again and the man, who they don’t recognize, begins to talk to them about the scriptures and he does it in such a way that they seem opened up to them, revealed, understandable. What he says makes their hearts burn within them in a way that they had felt once before.

Time seems to go by quickly as they talk together and when they reach the place where they are going they ask this stranger to stay with them, “Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.”

What happened at the meal that you remembered?

Did any of you remember the meal that we share together?

The disciples prepared a meal, but it was the stranger who served it. He took the bread, blessed it then broke it open for them and their eyes were opened and they saw Jesus.

That simple act of breaking bread helped them to see the resurrected Christ.

The meal that we share with one another is many things: a sign of forgiveness, a thanksgiving for what Jesus did for us, and it is an eye opening remembering.
The wine we drink and the bread we share are Christ truly present with us just as he was with the two disciples that day in Emmaus.

Each time we go to the table we travel to Emmaus where Jesus blesses and breaks open bread for us to see him with us.

As soon as they see him he disappears. It’s the one supernatural thing that happens in this story. But he doesn’t leave them empty and wanting. In fact, the very opposite is true. They are filled with the knowledge of the scriptures and their hearts are burning within them.

And that very hour they return to Jerusalem to tell the others what happened to them. They go even though it is now dark. They go even though they just got home. They go even though their dinner is only half eaten.

Each time we go to the table we are fed with the bread that is Christ. We hear the word of God, we are fed with the body of Christ, and then we are sent back to Jerusalem to share the story of the meal where we remembered that Jesus is with us.

Amen.