life — Andy James

Looking for the Living Among the Living

March 27, 2016 By Andy James

a sermon on Luke 24:1-12
preached on Easter Sunday, March 27, 2016, at the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone

Why do you look for the living among the dead?

This strange question surely startled the women who had come to the tomb on that first Easter morning. After all, they were looking for a dead man. They had watched with their own eyes as Jesus had been executed just two days earlier. They had seen the tomb and how his body was laid there by Joseph of Arimathea. They knew that Jesus, their friend and teacher, was dead. So when they showed up on that Sunday morning to find the stone rolled away and his body missing, they knew that something was up, but nothing was resolved by two men telling them that they were looking in the wrong place!

Why do you look for the living among the dead?

This strange question from two men in dazzling clothes at the tomb set the stage for everything that followed. “He is not here, but has risen,” they announced. This was strange, unexpected news—while Jesus had told them that this would be coming, even these very faithful women had forgotten about it. Their sabbath day had been filled with mourning for their friend, with preparing spices and ointments for the time when they would offer their final respects to his body, with all the other things that needed to be done when a good friend dies, and they had forgotten that this might not have been the end of the story for Jesus after all. It took these two men in dazzling clothes to jog their memory a bit, to remind them that Jesus had told them “that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.” But as soon as they remembered, they saw only that their search for Jesus had just begun.

Why do you look for the living among the dead?

After being confronted with this strange question and reminded that Jesus had told them that this would not be the end of the story, the women started to think about where Jesus might be. So they made their way back to the other disciples, to the core group of men who had journeyed with him along the way, hoping that these other friends might join them in sorting out what was next. But the disciples thought all this an “idle tale” and dismissed this word outright. Jesus was dead, and they knew it. They had seen it for themselves, and the strange rantings of some women about a missing body were nothing more than rumors of grave robbers. Peter was the only one who even thought this report was worthy of investigation, but even when he found the tomb empty except for the linen cloths that had wrapped Jesus’ body, he went home in amazement.

This first proclamation of the resurrection ends with no report of Jesus actually being seen alive and only a vague hope that this story would end with anything more than an empty tomb and a missing body. The search for Jesus ended before it ever really began—it seems that they really did know only how to look for the living among the dead.

Why do you look for the living among the dead?

This strange question first posed to the women on that Easter morning echoes across the ages to us, too. It is quite fitting that one of the abiding traditions of this day is the Easter egg hunt, when we seek out hidden things, for the good news of the resurrection on this Easter Day demands that we seek the risen Christ in our world.

But this search inevitably leads us to the same places as the women and the disciples, looking for the living among the dead. Have we gone to the tombs of our world—the old ways of doing things, the memories of past glory, the preserved remains of days long since gone—expecting to find new life? Who have we met when we have gone there? Have any “men in dazzling clothes” helped to point us in a different direction? Or have the main people we have encountered along the way told us that our reports of new life are nothing more than an “idle tale?” Some days we may be better at seeking Jesus out in our world than others—some Easter egg hunts are easier than others, after all!—but it is so easy to end up with the women and the disciples, looking for the living among the dead.

Why do you look for the living among the dead?

The search for the living Christ in our midst isn’t always easy, after all. First, we have to get past the death and destruction and darkness that surround us. We certainly must mourn the pain and hurt of our lives and our world. We cannot ignore the realities of fear and anxiety that creep insidiously into our lives day after day, building up as reports of terrorism and death swirl around us, taking hold as too many who lead us or seek to lead us seize on our fears to exclude some of God’s beloved children from the fullness of God’s care and protection. And we cannot ignore the tragedies that strike our lives in ways and times that we least expect that force us to reorient ourselves to a different way of life.

Faced with all these moments of death, surrounded by destruction and darkness, it is difficult to imagine where we might look for new life. So when we do decide that we want to set out on the journey to find the risen Jesus, we tend to go looking for him in the places we know best, where we have seen him before, where life is comfortable and simple, where new life bursts forth in grand and glorious moments with loud trumpets and bold proclamations.

But if the experience of the women and the disciples is any guide, we are likely to be left wandering if we look only here. Instead, our search for Jesus must take us to some different kinds of places along the way. We might need to go some places we have not been before. We might need to seek out places where there is life abundant, places where people are showing care and love for one another, places where the barriers of this world are being broken down and we are invited to live together in new ways, places where light quietly and slowly—yet surely—streams into darkness to make it clear that death will never have the final word. We might need to seek out Jesus among those he called “the least of these”—among the poor and outcast, among the hungry and thirsty, among strangers and refugees and prisoners, among all who are rejected and despised by the world and so are especially made welcome by God. And in our search for the risen Christ in our world, we might need to make our way to this table, to this place where Luke tells us the disciples finally met him alive again, where their eyes were opened and they recognized him in the breaking of bread.

Why do you look for the living among the dead?

Friends, as we seek the risen Christ in these Easter days, may God guide us to look for the living among the living, to open our eyes to the places and ways that Jesus is alive in our world where we might least expect it, to walk in our world in ways that show that death does not and will not have the final word, and to serve in love so that all can see the risen Christ among us as we offer his hope to those in greatest need, until he comes again in glory and all creation joins in his resurrection life forever and ever.

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia! Amen.

Death and Life

June 14, 2015 By Andy James

a sermon on 2 Corinthians 5:14-21
preached on June 14, 2015, at the First Presbyterian Church of Whitestone

As a pastor, I have a bit of a strange relationship with death. I am occasionally given the privilege of being present with someone as they die, and I do my best to approach this holy moment in the same way as I do for any other event of life even amidst the understandable difficulty for me and others. A little more frequently, I am asked to preside at funerals or memorial services, where death is the unfortunate occasion that brings us together even as we often find a unique bond of life to link us to one another and to God. And then there are the times when I walk with you all or other friends through days of grief, sorting out how the death of family, friends, colleagues, or even others beyond those circles changes our lives. In thinking about all these moments, I see the incredible transformation that death brings—even as I know that it is yet another moment of life and living.

So when Paul starts talking about death in our reading from 2 Corinthians this morning, I know exactly what he is talking about. For Paul, death—specifically, the death of Christ—changes everything even as it is yet another moment in the life of the world. In the wonder of this unjust death, we are convinced that all have died. In the light of this amazing love, we are shown that he died for all, regardless of belief or practice. And in the face of this transformative moment, we are shown how this death invites “those who live [to] live no longer for themselves, but for him who died and was raised for them.”

Christ’s death shows us the depth and breadth of God’s love for us, and that love “urges us on,” Paul says, guiding us into new life in this world and the next. This love, Paul says, gives us a new point of view: “From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view.” First, we received a new vision of Christ himself, for we once knew him as we know our human companions on the journey, but now we know that he is more than this, that in his death and resurrection he has overcome all the challenges of this world and entered into new life.

Since we know Christ in this new way, we also have to look at our human companions from a new perspective. Everything is different from this new vantage point. The assumptions we have made about others no longer apply, because we know that all are beloved children of God. The outside appearance and visible actions that have been the basis of all our judgments before now must be set aside so that we can focus on knowing one another in the way that God knows us. And the death that seems like it brought things to an end is actually the beginning of new life. One commentator summarizes this change beautifully:

Believers are not simply offered a new perspective they may or may not adopt as and when they see fit; rather, something so fundamental has changed in such a profound fashion that the old ways of looking, perceiving, understanding, and, more profoundly, evaluating, have to be let go and replaced with a new way of seeing and understanding. (J. Paul Sample, New Interpreter’s Bible)

He goes even one step further:

People have value because Christ has died for them. People, whoever they are, whether they have responded to Christ or not… are treasured by God.

In the same way that the death of Christ changes our view of death, when we look at one another from this new perspective, everything is different. We see those whom we once named as our enemies and approach them as friends. We replace our way of assessing one another based on the things of this world with assessments of one another as beloved children of God. And we stop looking at death as the end of something for one of us and approach it as the beginning of everything for all of us. Paul names this new perspective as the new creation:

If anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!

The new creation stands at the center of everything that Paul proclaims. The new creation calls forth a different way of living and loving that takes into account the love of God demonstrated in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The new creation makes it clear for us how faith is to be expressed through love of our fellow human beings and by extension all of the created order. The new creation shows us that redemption is expressed “as a kind of creation renewed, made over… a new thing that recaptures, not jettisons, the old.” (J. Paul Sample) And the new creation reminds us that death is not the end of the story for any of us, for one death began the process of transformation that invites us into this new life, and so death opens the possibility of something new.

This new creation begun in Christ opens us to, calls us to, even demands of us participation in, the transformation of the world. Because we have been reconciled to God in Christ, we are called to be reconciled to one another and the whole world. Because we have this new relationship with God, we need to have a new relationship with others as we appeal to them as ambassadors on God’s behalf. And because we have for our own sake been united with one “who knew no sin,” we “become the righteousness of God” as we demonstrate the new way of Christ to the world.

As participants in this new creation, we not only look at the world around us differently but also interact with it differently. We treat everyone with deeper reverence and love as we recognize the myriad ways that all are treasured by God. We live with our focus on others and especially those for whom God has particular concern: the poor, the oppressed, the victims of war and violence, the unloved and unloveable, and those like all of these. And we do our best to embody the wholeness that we long to know for ourselves and all the world.

As I journey through this life, facing the interesting challenges of life as a pastor, walking through death and life with people like all of you, seeking to offer the presence of God in Christ to all I meet, I am convinced over and over again that this idea of the new creation is what we need in our world. We do not need to turn back the clock to a day and age that are now past but rather need to hope and pray and work for God’s new way to be revealed in our midst, a way that is far better than anything we have known before.

In this new creation, we are shown that God has more in store for our world that what we know now. Through this new creation, we are called to live differently ourselves so that we can join in what God is doing all around us. And because of this new creation, we ourselves are made new as we recognize again and again that Christ has changed everything for everyone.

So may we live in this new creation even now as we wait for God to finish it in the days ahead, so that we might be God’s ambassadors of new life and reconciliation in our broken and fearful world, journeying in life and in death in the path that Christ opens for us, now and always. Thanks be to God! Amen.

Wall-E: close to home?

July 4, 2008 By Andy James

I finally ventured out last night with a couple friends to see Wall-E. As usual, Pixar brings us a great movie, and I suspect I’ll be back to see it again in the theater. It was that good. And I’m not at all a movie person!

There are so many possibilities for thinking about allegory with Wall-E: the concern of global warming, the need for personal connection, even how the world pushes off the sacred. However, there’s something striking me about Wall-E’s commitment that bears some reflection.

Wall-E is, at his core, a faithful robot. He keeps doing what he was programmed to do (and no surprise, since he seems to be running some variant of Mac OS!) Even when all the other Wall-Es on Earth stop functioning properly, he keeps going. He scavenges parts off of other broken-down robots to keep himself running, and his ingenuity is something surely beyond his original design.

But Wall-E is something more than a faithful automaton, working beyond his scheduled useful life span. He recognizes that there is more to his world than just compacting the leftover trash of Earth. He is unafraid to collect things that strike him as interesting. You might say that Wall-E has a heart (as only Pixar can give). In the end, this ability to think outside the box leads him to incredible discoveries of love and life.

I have to wonder: Is Wall-E a good model for the life of a disciple? Is Wall-E’s faithfulness to his task while recognizing the things of beauty around him something we can learn from? Does Wall-E give us a little bit of the path toward a new creation that we so desperately long for?

There are surely countless other discussions that could emerge from watching Wall-E, but this is what struck me close to home.