Foot Print Luke 24:44=53, Acts 1:1-11

On the side of the Mount of Olives just across the Kidron valley
from the old city of Jerusalem
where many believe the ancient village of Bethany was located
stands a small shrine marking what some say
is the very spot where Jesus’ ascended into heaven.
Christians call this shrine a chapel, Muslims call it a mosque
and the way they know it’s the very spot Jesus rose into the sky
is because they have preserved there his right footprint.
As early as the late fourth century this site was venerated
and in the early seventh century a pilgrim wrote in his journal
that Jesus’ print was clearly visible, impressed into the dust,
and pilgrims were allowed to take a little of the dust with them.
If you saw the photograph of the preserved footprint outside the sanctuary
you might have had trouble making it out.
I’ve stared at it all week and I’ve not yet seen a recognizable outline.
But, faithful pilgrims for centuries have seen it
and who am I to say they’re wrong?

One of the impulses we human beings have is to preserve our footprints.
We like the idea of leaving an indelible mark on the earth,
some tangible sign of our passing.
Of course, I don’t mean LITERAL footprints like Jesus,
but l think we’d all like to know that there will be some kind of shrine
when we’re gone to indicate that we were here.
Architects dream of leaving a footprint in a building design
executed in concrete and steel
lasting, if not forever, at least for generations.
Athletes dream of decisively setting a record of achievement for their sport
that will stand for years to come against all who might try to break it.
Authors dream of publishing in hardback,
and even if their novel or biography or exposé eventually ends up on a yard sale table
at least their names are on the master list of published authors for all eternity.
We look out these windows and see the figurative footprints
of our Rockfish family who are buried in our cemetery
and whose plaques and stones commend them to our memory.

It’s in our nature to do what we can to leave our own footprints on this earth
so who can blame those who wanted to hold onto and preserve a tangible reminder
of the days when Jesus himself walked on this earth
and, with each step, pressed his feet into Palestine’s dust?

It was the disciples themselves who first exhibited this impulse to hold onto Jesus;
to figuratively, if not literally, preserve his footprints.
It’s interesting the way Luke, who wrote both the gospel bearing his name
AND the book detailing the Acts of the Apostles,
gives two different accounts of Jesus’ ascension.
In his gospel, Luke only gives a two sentence account.
In this description Luke says that Jesus
“blessed them, withdrew from them, and was carried up into heaven.”
In response, the disciples “worshipped, returned to Jerusalem (with great joy)
and were continually in the temple blessing God.”
This gospel account is sort of the executive summary of the event;
a bare-bones outline.
But when he sits down to write the Acts of the Apostles,
Luke decides to begin where he ended
and so he takes his original spare account and expands it,
fleshing it out into a more theatrical production.

I mean that literally.
If you look at Luke’s account of Jesus’ ascension in the book of Acts
we have all the elements of a stage play.
You’ve got a protagonist – Jesus.
You’ve got antagonists – the disciples.
You’ve got one FABULOUS special effect.
And you’ve got a traditional Greek chorus featuring the same two angels
who also were present when the women discovered the empty tomb.

In the very structure of the way he tells this story
Luke is hinting that we shouldn’t get too bogged down in the question of
whether Jesus really does shoot up into the sky like a Roman Candle;
whether the laws of gravity actually qre suspended just for him
while the disciples look on, slack jawed.
Though the action is dramatic,
much more important is the dialogue –
how the antagonists challenge the protagonist
and how the protagonist responds.

From the very beginning of the scene we are alerted
to the disciples’ primary motivation.
They’re looking desperately for a way to preserve on this earth Jesus’ footprints
and, by association, their own.

Though they’ve asked this question before and Jesus has answered in the negative
they can’t help but ask it again,
hoping, perhaps, that resurrection has somehow mellowed him
or caused him to change his mind.
“Lord, is THIS the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?”

It’s tempting….
It’s tempting to focus my emotional and physical energy
on leaving the biggest footprint possible -
Start a successful company, find a cure for cancer, star in a Broadway show,
and why not? There’s nothing inherently wrong and much that’s right
about each of those accomplishments.
You might choose a more modest path – have a child, perhaps,
raise money for a new wing for the library,
get elected to the school board.
All fine things worth doing.
And every fine thing worth doing can be done as the means to a noble end.
Or it can be done as an end in itself,
just one more notch in my quiver
as I seek my own glory.
Just one more weight in my shoe
as I try to leave the biggest impression possible.

“Lord, is THIS the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?”
The disciples had waited so long.
Jesus had been killed and for a couple of days ALL hope had faded,
but then they became aware that all was NOT lost,
that somehow Jesus had thwarted his enemies’ efforts
to turn back the clock, to roll back the advance of God’s kingdom.
But still the disciples didn’t understand the concept of “Kingdom” as Jesus meant it.
They were thinking political power.
They were thinking name recognition.
They were thinking “A PLACE IN HISTORY.”
But just as they were thinking of a trip to Brooks Brothers for new suits
Jesus answered their question about the kingdom saying
“That’s for God to know and for you to…well…NOT know.”
He then told them to just lie low and wait where they were for God’s Spirit,
and once they received that Spirit, not to worry about Israel’s kingdom.
Israel’s kingdom was obsolete.
They should start thinking more in terms of God’s kingdom
that would take them to places they’d never even heard of before.

One of the critiques of the church as an institution
is that we spend too much time and effort securing our own footprint
rather than placing ourselves in God’s hands
as instruments of God’s kingdom.
We seek membership growth or build buildings or create a cushy endowment
as an END in itself
rather than as a way of advancing the gospel.
We have the same tendency those first disciples had –
looking for God to work in ways that will most benefit OUR agenda;
enlarge OUR mark;
instead of placing ourselves at God’s disposal
and praying that God will use us as God would choose.

Would it be possible…do you think it would be possible…
for us NOT to have to go down in history,
NOT to have to have a shrine erected in our honor?
Instead of focusing our energy on building a kingdom
that fits our own image of what God SHOULD be doing,
would it be possible for us to entrust ourselves to God’s Spirit,
knowing that as we are faithful to God’s calling
we WILL catch glimpses of God’s kingdom along the way?
Would it be possible for us to let go of our preconceived notions
of God’s nature, God’s purposes, God’s desires
and return to God’s Word in the scriptures with new eyes
listeni for God’s call to ministry with new ears,
and let the Spirit of God sweep over us like a mighty wind
leading us in new ways of thinking and being and doing?

You don’t have to answer now. You’ve got a week to think about it.
Next Sunday is Pentecost Sunday.
Do you KNOW about Pentecost Sunday?
That’s when God’s Spirit is set to blow.
If all you can think about is the size of your footprint, you might want to sleep in.
If all you can think about is the design of the shrine
your children and colleagues and fellow citizens are going to build for you
when you’re gone,
then you might want to go to brunch at Basic Necessities.
You certainly don’t want to be anywhere near THIS place.

But if you’re ready to travel light and don’t really care for statues;
If you’re willing to venture outside your comfort zone
and see glimpses of God’s kingdom
rather than be bored and restless in a kingdom of your own making;
you should make it a point to be here.
I’ll be here. I wouldn’t miss it. There’s no telling what might happen.

For the Healing of the Nations John 14:23-29, Revelation 21:10, 22:1-5

The 116th Infantry Brigade Combat Team of the Virginia National Guard
left Staunton last week on their way to Camp Shelby, Mississippi
where they will spend a month training for deployment to Iraq.
In the team that left was a young wife and mother of a seven year old little girl.
She had to say goodbye to her parents, her husband and her daughter
knowing that she would be not be able to celebrate Mother’s Day with them,
in fact, that she will be away from them in a war zone for at least a year.

How does a mother prepare herself and her daughter for a year-long separation?
The Department of Defense has a website with some helpful tips.
What they don’t tell you is what to do about the constant dull ache in your chest;
what to do when a sharp stab of panic wakes you in the middle of the night;
what to do with the anger you dare not show for fear of upsetting loved ones
or being thought disloyal to the cause.

Separation from the one you love causes all kinds of anxiety.
Nowhere is that anxiety more keenly reflected in the scriptures
than in John’s gospel where four entire chapters – almost 20% of the whole book
involves Jesus preparing his disciples for the time when he will leave them.

Jesus must have read the Department of Defense’s website
because he seems to anticipate his disciples’ questions surrounding his departure
before they even ask.

He tells them where he’s going – to be with the Father –
which they probably understand about as well
as a seven-year-old understands Baghdad –
but he does try to be straight with them.
He tells them that he will not leave them without anything to remember him by.
He won’t leave them without a communication plan.
He will give them the Comforter, the Guide, the Companion, the Holy Spirit.
Jesus tells his disciples some of the things they can expect during his absence;
that some people will misunderstand them or even hate them
but he tells them to just keep on loving others as he has loved them
and they will be fine.

Jesus then prays for his disciples – a deep, passionate prayer,
asking the Father to protect them until they can be reunited.
One last thing Jesus leaves with them, one final gift to see them through.
He says, “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you.
I do not give to you as the world gives.
Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”
I think we can all agree that’s easier said than done.

Separation is a two-sided coin.
On one hand, separation is an essential part of human development.
Around the age of one, a child’s brain starts to register the concept of absence.
That’s when the child starts to notice that the caregiver has disappeared
and the child gets anxious that the caregiver might not come back.
Loud wailing is heard every morning in day care centers across the land.
because of this very normal separation anxiety.


It’s a difficult stage for parent AND child
but working through this separation is critical for the child’s ability
to stand on her own two feet.
Separation leads to autonomy. That’s a good thing.

But separation – or maybe we should call it the lack of connection –
is also a symptom of what ails us.
Somehow we go from great anxiety at being left alone as child
all the way to the other end of the spectrum as adults
when we develop this illusion that we CAN GO IT alone;
that we don’t really NEED anyone.
Sociologists have all kinds of theories about why we Americans
have such an overdeveloped drive toward individuality.
I heard Canadian actress and film director Sarah Polley interviewed yesterday
and the interviewer remarked on what he called her “ambition.”
She was surprised at the remark and commented
that in her family it was an insult to call someone “ambitious.”
The interviewer replied, “But you’re in the United States now – it’s OK.”
They went on to explore the differences between Canada and the United States
and she said, “In Canada we put a lot more emphasis
on doing things for the good of the community.”
Is that a fair statement?
I don’t know Canada. But I do get the sense that
while one of our strengths as a nation is our individual drive and ambition
it is also our Achilles’ Heel.
While it is likely the chief cause of our national prosperity,
it is the possibly very thing that stands in the way
of our receiving Jesus’ gift of peace.

When my older brother John was six and it became time for him to enter first grade
he went through a bout of what psychologists would now call
“separation anxiety disorder.”
For the first week of school my father had to go with him to class
and sit awkwardly in a tiny desk in his coat and tie
until John got engaged in a class activity and forgot to be anxious.
Tired of being late to work, my father finally took him into the hall and spanked him.
He said, “Now then, I’ve got to go to work and you’ve got to stay here.
Do you understand me?”
To which my brother replied, “Daddy, you’re gonna have to give me
some more of that whippin’ ‘cause I just can’t stay.”
But John eventually learned to stay in class.
In fact he received a full college scholarship, went to medical school,
and is now a successful Family Physician.
It’s odd, though. As an adult he has rarely initiated family contact.
He seems to like us fine but he’s definitely got that separation anxiety thing licked.

I said earlier that “separation” is for us a two sided coin.
There are two sides – fear of being taken away from the ones we love
but also the fear of being tied down by our obligations to another.
There are two sides, but only one coin
and fear is the common element.

If I was to look back at each sermon I’ve preached since September 11, 2001,
I would predict that at least 80% of them have to do with the topic of “fear.”
The trauma of that shared experience on 9/11 stirred up our separation anxiety.
It brought our fear of being left helpless and vulnerable
raging to the surface like a class 5 hurricane.
It’s taken me all this time to begin to understand how it affected me.
It’s odd, but if you remember the days right after the tragedy,
there was a curious comfort to be found
as families and friends shared their grief,
as condolences came in from all across the globe,
as Republicans and Democrats stood on the Capitol steps
hand in hand saying prayers and singing patriotic songs.
Stories of heroic sacrifices humbled us.
barriers of race and class and nationality evaporated
as we recognized the way shared grief makes us brothers and sisters.
Though in a way it sounds like nonsense,
I would go so far as to say that in the aftermath of that awful day
we tasted a small morsel of the peace Jesus was talking about.

But all that togetherness was apparently just too much
for our individualistic, autonomous streak to handle.
It’s almost as if on the national level
we fear unity and cooperation more than we fear a terrorist attack.
I don’t have enough time to outline all the ways
our rabid autonomy as individuals and as a nation
has undermined that fleeting sense of peace and unity.
I don’t have to. You know.
To make matters worse, at the same time we have been indulging
our nationalistic bent toward going it alone,
we in the various church denominations
have been engaged in our own shameful wars.
We have mirrored the secular world in our bickering, barking, and berating
and then we wonder why there are such deep cracks in our foundation.


It would almost seem hopeless.
It would almost seem hopeless if not for one thing.
It would almost seem hopeless if not for the promise,
if not for the vision,
if not for the occasional and powerful glimpses we get of the TRUTH
that division, and violence, and ego-driven self-promotion are not the final word.
We see it here in this sanctuary when one of you stands
and through tears says “Thank you” for the care you have received
from your brothers and sisters in Christ.
We see it in the work crews who find deep satisfaction
in using their skills and energy with Habitat for Humanity to build someone a home.
We’ve seen it these past few weeks
as Virginia Tech students and parents came together
to chase self-serving reporters off campus,
to voice a resounding “NO” to those looking for a scapegoat,
and to go through graduation exercises with dignity and grace.

In the final chapter of Revelation John closes his vision
with an image of the Holy City.
He calls it Jerusalem, but the vision bears no resemblance to the actual city.
In his vision throngs of people gather around the throne of God
and from the throne flows the river of life, flanked on either side by trees of life.
Each tree bears a different fruit each month
and the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations.

Though division in our world, in our nation, and in our church denominations
has been about as bad as it gets in recent years,
John’s vision still stands.

The river is only a trickle right now, the tree of life just a tiny shoot.
Fruit is but a promise, healing a distant hope.

But God has given us THE church and THIS church as a laboratory;
a place where we can try backing off of our stubborn individuality
and experience together a new sort of community;
where we can experience together the healing balm of Jesus’ peace.
This is our opportunity. This is our best hope.
And as a community of faith;
as those who DARE to CARE for each other
we will join together in prayer for, today and in the year to come,
for Jennifer Martin as she prepares for Iraq
and Matt Martin, her husband, and their daughter Kayla
as they are separated from her and wait for her to come home.

The Waters Genesis 1:1-5, 9-11 Revelation 21:1-6

As a child I went with my family each summer to what was then called Ocean Drive, SC
The way things have grown together down there in the last forty years
now it’s just called North Myrtle Beach.
We rented a little cottage there from old Mr. McMillan
who had wife, Mrs. McMillan, and a little dachshund named Buttons.
I loved playing in the surf and I resented my mother’s need to keep a watchful eye.
I imagined the waves to be my own personal roller coaster ride
and saw no reason to have to stay in close or not drift too far away.
You know what happened.
At some point I caught the crest of a wave that was larger than usual
and instead of lifting me high it grabbed me and slammed me hard against the sand
then sat on me, holding me under until my lungs nearly burst.
I had no frame of reference for what was happening to me
and all I could think of was how mad my mother was going to be if I drowned.
Just when I thought I couldn’t hold my breath any longer the pressure lifted.
I pushed up to the surface and was surprised to find myself
in only about a foot of water.
I looked up and found my mother, still calmly reading in her lounge chair.
She raised her head to see me looking at her. She waved. I waved back.
I don’t THINK my mother ever knew how close I’d come
to being one more victim claimed by the mighty force of the sea.
I certainly never told her!
But I knew. In that secret place, I knew.
and after all these years I’ve not forgotten.

Throughout recorded history, human beings have been drawn to the sea.
The Jews of early Palestine knew the power of the sea and, like most cultures,
created a rich lore of sea monsters and dark forces
to express what they perceived to be the mystery and power of the sea.
To the Jews, the sea represented chaos,
all the dark, swirling forces over which they had no control.
So it’s hardly a surprise that the in one of the first acts of creation in the book of Genesis
they have God push back the sea and put it in it’s place
so that dry land appears and human beings can walk instead of swim.

The sea is not much less of a mystery to us than it was to the author of Genesis.
Oceanography as a science is over 100 years old,
but, according to Bill Bryson in his book A Short History of Nearly Everything,
we have better maps of the planet Mars than of our own sea floor.
Jacques Cousteau popularized sea exploration in the sixties
inventing ever more sophisticated diving equipment
and sailing the ocean in his boat, Calypso
making documentaries and introducing the world to porpoises, whales and sharks.
But even Jacques Cousteau only scratched the surface.
Some estimate that there could be as many as 30 million species of animals
living in the sea, most as yet undiscovered.
And if we needed any more reason to respect the power of the sea
we’ve had ample evidence in recent years with the Tsunami of 2004
that sent the Indian Ocean barreling over a large part the coast of Southeast Asia
and Hurricane Katrina in 2005 that brought the Gulf of Mexico
pouring into the living rooms of New Orleans.

Even without earthquakes or hurricanes to stoke its engine
the sea is relentless in it’s efforts to reclaim lost territory.
The Cape Hatteras lighthouse on the Outer Banks of North Carolina
was 1600 feet from the shoreline when it was completed in 1870
In less than fifty years the water had crept to within 300 feet.
Herculean efforts were engaged to hold back the sea
but in 1996 the water was lapping only 130 feet away.
In 1999 the tower was finally relocated 2,900 feet back from the ocean
just before Hurricane Dennis stalled over the area.
Many believe that a Dennis-fueled ocean
would have undermined and toppled the lighthouse had it not been moved.

The paradox of water is that life cannot exist without it,
but water can also extinguish our life in an instant.
The biblical writers are fascinated by the metaphor of water,
as in our text this morning likening it to the source of God’s gift of life.
But they also use it to symbolize the destructive forces in our world
that can overwhelm our life.
The author of Psalm 42 compares himself and his spiritual longings
to a deer thirsting for streams of water,
but in a few short verses he then admits to feeling dreadfully overwhelmed
by the very thing for which he thirsts,
saying to God, “All your waves and your billows have gone over me.”
In the story of Jonah, a violent sea threatens to drown the reluctant prophet
until he is saved at God’s direction by a creature of the deep.
The gospel writers tell of the disciples who fear being capsized by a storm on the lake
until Jesus stands and asserts his divine power over the chaos of the storm.

The book of Genesis only records the beginning of God’s creation.
In Revelation John tries to describe what it will be like
when God finishes what God started.
The vision of the book of Revelation came to John, the seer,
who tried within the confines of human language
to describe the majesty and the beauty and the power of God’s final accomplishment.
Again John turns to the metaphor of water.

John writes, “Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth;
for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away,
and the sea was no more.”
In the beginning God is described as only having pushed back the forces of chaos,
penning them up within proscribed limits.
But chaos, like the sea, constantly pushes those limits,
breaking free every now and then to wreak havoc.
Chaos, like the sea, laps relentlessly at the edges of our consciousness
threatening to overwhelm us,
pounding like the surf at the fringes of our comfort zone.
No matter how many protective trenches we dig or sandbags we stack,
chaos has a way of seeping through;
seeping through as an unexpected medical diagnosis,
or a surprise betrayal,
or a sudden cataclysmic financial reversal.
It pummels into submission our tower of strength.
It undermines our foundation of untested faith.
It chips away at our optimism leaving us vulnerable to doubt and cynicism
and a bubbling, diffuse sort of anger at the world and at God.

God is more powerful than the chaos,
but for reasons known only to God did not eliminate chaos from the very beginning.
John’s vision is that in God’s own time chaos, represented by the sea,
will finally be no more.
God will finish the job.
At that time, as the vision goes,
God’s presence will not just be assumed, but it will be palpable;
a CONSTANT presence erasing all doubt.
At that time, as the vision goes,
there will be no more death or the grief that goes with it;
no more pain to wrack body and soul.
no more enslavement to illness or addiction or despair.
In fact, in John’s vision,
when God puts the finishing touches on God’s creation
there will be no more tears at all.

The whole purpose of John’s vision becomes clear to us
when we remember who his first audience was.
John’s first audience, the ones with whom he first shared his vision,
were Christians undergoing persecution by Rome.
Theirs was a cruel and chaotic time.
John wanted to remind them that God’s kingdom had already begun
and that even though it may seem terribly slow in coming
God’s reign would one day be fully evident.
In other words, chaos never has had and never will have the final word.

That’s important for us to remember as we live out our Easter faith.
Contrary to all appearances, chaos does not have the last word.
This means that no matter bad it gets we are not to despair.
No matter how painful the present, the future is not in doubt.

So when a gunman randomly kills thirty-two beautiful people he doesn’t even know
and a democratically elected government seems incapable of finding a path to peace
and over sixteen percent of the world’s population lives in extreme poverty
fighting for daily survival
while the Burj Al-Arab hotel in Dubai sports an indoor ski slope
we do not collapse from the absurdity of it all.
And when a friend dies of cancer
or a pension plan evaporates overnight
or a partner leaves us for someone else
we do not succumb to the chaos.
Instead, we join God and each other, doing all we can to keep the chaos at bay,
knowing that, though the time will come for no more tears, that time is not yet.

When I got crushed to the sand by a mighty wave at Myrtle Beach,
it caught me off guard. For a minute it made me want to run out of the water.
But then I looked up and I saw that there was someone watching over me.
so I turned and went back in, ready to ride the next wave.


i. Bryson, Bill, A Short History of Nearly Everything, New York: Broadway Books,
2003. p. 278.
ii. Ibid., p. 282.
iii. http://www.rickslighthouses.com/cape_hatteras.htm
iv. Sachs, Jeffrey D., The End of Poverty: Economic Possibilities for Our Time.
New York: Penguin Books, 2005.

Can't Snatch It Away Psalm 23, John 10:22-30, Revelation 7:9-17

The headline said, “Granny Turns Tables on Purse Snatcher.”
I thought to myself, “That’s one I’ve got to read!
KSL News in Salt Lake City reported back in September last year
that “Ms. Betty Horton, a 75 year old grandmother,
gave a purse snatcher a taste of his own medicine
when she chased him down and snatched the stolen goods right back.”
Horton was busy loading groceries into her car
when a would-be thief grabbed her pocketbook and took off running.
As the article says, “This unfortunate thief found out
that nobody snatches Betty Horton’s purse and gets away with it.”
The report quotes Ms. Horton, “Ask my boss, I have a hot temper
but I get over it fast.”

The thief took off, but Ms. Horton dropped what she was doing
and took off after him .
She said, “I was huffin’ and puffin’ by the time I got around the corner,
but I didn’t care.”
She checked in a store, but no one inside had seen him.
Then two boys who had had been outside and who had seen the whole thing
motioned to Ms. Horton that the thief had run through a gate into an alley
and was hiding on the other side of the building.
In a move that makes me want to add to the story, “Kids, don’t try this at home,”
Ms. Horton marched through the gate, around the building, found the man
and demanded that he give her back her purse, “right this minute.”
Now, I’m going to leave you hanging for awhile,
because as much as we want everything to turn out alright
(and, given the headline, we’re PRETTY sure it does)
I want to consider the set-up of the story for a minute.

I want to consider this tenacity Betty Horton exhibited, foolhardy as it was.
I’ve got to wonder, what in the world made her stand up in this situation and say,
“Nobody – but NOBODY – snatches my purse!”
What if I asked her the question.
“Betty, a man snatches your purse, why is it so important that you get it back?
Is it because your purse represents a microcosm of your life,
holding, as it does, various items that represent different aspects of your persona?
Is it because it has sentimental value, each scuff and smudge and tear
telling a story of your daily struggle to assert your identity as a human being?
Is it because your purse is your primary vessel of economic industry,
your passport into the world of commercial interchange?”

You and I both know how she would answer.
After she had looked at me with a “well, DUH!” kind of expression,
I’m confident she would simply and forcefully say,
“Because it’s MINE!”

That’s basically the answer I think Jesus would give
if he were sitting on the witness stand,
and under cross-examination the interrogator asked him to explain himself.
“OK, Jesus, you say you have these sheep, these ones who know your voice
and who follow where you lead.”
You and “your FATHER” seem to be very protective of these followers,
(frankly, it makes me wonder what kind of ego trip you’re on)
but why don’t you tell all of us assembled here
why it is that these “sheep” as you call them
are so important to you?
Why is it that you seem so ready to go out of your way to keep them safe,
and, if (GOD FORBID) one of them should get lost, or wonder off,
or temporarily lose enthusiasm for your journey
WHY it is so important that you get that one back?
Is it because you have some sick need to be adored?
Is it because you’re jealous of others who dare compete for their attention?
Is it because you’ve got an Oedipus complex with this “Father”
you keep talking about?
What is it Jesus? Huh? Why are they so important to you
and why do you go to such extremes to keep them in your fold?”

Jesus, I think, would have the same kind of fire in his belly that Betty Horton has.
I think he would answer the dumb question the same way she would.
“Because they’re MINE!”

The gospel lesson this morning is part of a larger section of John’s gospel
that has Jesus in a very familiar situation.
He is being challenged by and he is responding to
some of the elite religious leaders in Jerusalem
who are frankly looking for a good reason to lock him up or kill him.
In the particular circumstances of today’s lesson,
Jesus is in the temple courtyard during the time of the Hannukah celebration.
Some of his adversaries approach and try to lure him into a trap.
They try to make him state openly and publicly his identity as the Messiah.
“Look, Jesus,” they say. “Either you are or you aren’t.
Quit beating around the bush tell us who you REALLY are!”
But Jesus very skillfully turns the focus away from himself, away from HIS identity,
and puts the spotlight instead on them.
“What about you?” he asks, “Are you part of my flock?
Obviously not, because if you were you wouldn’t have to ask.
You would know me. You would recognize my voice.
You would willingly and gladly follow.”

It’s important to notice that Jesus is closing no doors here.
He’s not the one who’s playing this game of “Who’s In and Who’s Out.”
It’s that nameless little clutch of self-consciously religious folk
who need to draw lines and set up barriers.
They’re the ones with the agenda.
And by sticking to their agenda they are their own worst enemies.
They can’t help but get in the way of the satisfying connection
they COULD have with Jesus as sheep to shepherd.

The Temple devotees puff out their chests and stroke their beards
and make noises like they’re going to take away Jesus’ shepherding license;
get tough with his sheep, bring some decorum back to the pasture.
But finally Jesus says, “No. Leave them alone. They are already in my Father’s hand.
and let me tell you one thing that you may not fully realize.
My father is strong and no force on earth can snatch them away.
Jesus, speaking for the father, says, “They’re MINE, you hear me? They’re mine!”

This is the third week we’ve had a passage from the book of Revelation
as part of our New Testament lesson.
It’s an interesting partner to John’s gospel.
In John, Jesus is the Good Shepherd.
In Revelation, he is the Lamb who has been slain.
But both images, the shepherd and the lamb,
represent a different kind of power –
a kind of power that is not immediately evident
but which is ultimately victorious against all odds.
In John, Jesus is confronted by the most powerful men of his faith community
and he likens his position to that of a common shepherd,
the occupation ranked lowest on the Jewish socio-economic scale.
In Revelation, Jesus is seen as the sacrificial lamb,
one who is led to slaughter.
Yet, he is also referred to as the Lion of Judah, a common term for the Messiah.
In John, Jesus boldly asserts that those of his flock are in God’s hands
and NOBODY can snatch them away.
In Revelation, the seer has the famous vision of the four horsemen of the apocalypse –
classically interpreted to represent pestilence, war, famine and death,
thought these interpretations are disputed.
What isn’t disputed is that this vision speaks of a great ordeal
to which the faithful have been and will be subjected.
But those who, for Jesus’ sake, have come through the great ordeal –
in other words, those who have suffered greatly for their faith,
are envisioned clothed in pure, white robes
and stationed in a place of honor by God’s throne of grace.

Both John’s gospel and the book of the Revelation
speak to us of a reversal of power as we know it.
In images and words they say to us that power on earth is fleeting –
that what goes up, must come down –
that Friday is terrible, but Sunday is coming.
This is hard to keep in mind because our memories are short,
and sometimes it takes awhile for things to become evident.
For example, British rule of India began in 1858 and lasted until 1947
when the native people of India
led by a skinny, non-violent man called Mahatma Gandhi
threw off the yoke of British oppression.
Enron was voted the most admired corporation in America six years in a row.
No one dared question the practices of Ken Lay, Jeff Schilling, and Andrew Fastow
because they seemed so innovative and (on paper) were making so much money.
Everyone in the business world just LOVED the Emperor’s new clothes.
Until Sherron Watkins, a mid-level manager
wrote a detailed seven page letter to Ken Lay
outlining on the record her belief that they were skating on thin air.
It took only six weeks for the mammoth corporation to fold.
Four years ago leaders of our country decided they were tired of tedious diplomacy
and Sadaam Hussein’s mocking defiance
and decided to go teach him a powerful lesson.
But, though Sadaam Hussein is dead,
we’re the ones who are having a chilling lesson
on the limitations of military intervention as a path to power.
Two weeks ago a young man made an angry video and killed thirty-two people
in an act of random violence
that apparently seemed to him at the time his only path to power.

It’s really quite simple, though contrary to most everything our culture teaches,
those who follow in the way of Jesus have a different understanding of power.
They do not fear those who can kill the body but not the soul.
They are firmly held in the palm of God’s hand
and NOTHING can snatch them away.

I don’t know Betty Horton’s faith orientation but I think I can guess.
When that man snatched her purse from her 75 year old hands
every single person who saw it would have said that man had power over her.
Every single person would be wrong.
After Betty tracked the man to the alley behind the store,
she walked right up to him and said, “You give me back my purse right this minute.”
By some miracle of divine protection the man did as she commanded.
He gave her back the purse and the three dollars he had found in it.
He then apologized and said he’d been having a tough time lately.
Contrary to what the headline and opening sentences of the news report
would lead us to believe,
Betty didn’t get violent with the man.
She didn’t smash him with a rock,
she didn’t whack him with a 2-by-4,
she didn’t pull a gun and blow him away.
She did the more powerful thing.
She handed her three dollars back to the man along with a piece of advice.
She said, “You’d better get out of here quick, the cops will be here any minute.”

Jesus said, “I give them eternal life, and they will never perish.
No one will snatch them out of my hand.”