April 11, 2009
The Rev. Tasha Brubaker Garrison
Easter Vigil, Year B
The light of Christ is burning at the heart of the world. Through the darkness and the emptiness a spark has been kindled. A new light has been born to shine into our lives and into our hearts. We see this light. We hold this light in our hands. We guard and guide this light into our hearts and our world. This light is the symbol of our rejoicing. Rejoice and be glad now for darkness has been vanquished by our eternal King!
The light of God that burned fully and completely in the person of Jesus was thought to be snuffed out. Done. Ended. But as the prophet Isaiah says, a dimly burning flame he will not quench. The life of God, the love of God revealed in Jesus, could not be destroyed, could not be triumphed over by death. Through death, through emptiness, the power of God, the love of God still rises. The light of the holy flame is marvelous to our eyes and in it is the truth of God revealed and hidden in all its mystery.
We have heard the story, our story, this night. The story tells of a God that constantly, persistently, relentlessly seeks his people and delivers them again and again. We belong to God and no matter what God does not cut free of us. We bound to each other and God goes with us wherever we go and also stands outside of our lives to offer healing and transformation, forgiveness and freedom from sin and death. This night we are, as those who trust in Jesus, delivered from the gloom of sin and restored to grace and holiness. Our life is part of Christ's life and that life has broken the bonds of death and hell. It is not that biological death is done away with, but that death as a spiritual reality larger than our physical one is not the final power. For as the wisest know, all reality is spiritual. And it is the journey of the spirit, of the soul, that is the heart of our time in this world. And if we grasped and lived this most fully how much more peace and life there would be! How much less death and violence and sin we would commit! The wholeness of our spirit is intricately tied to the wholeness of the world.
The light is coming into the world. We see it coming, but see too the shadows still around us. We are in the realm of the spirit, the realm of change, the realm of new birth and in the middle burns the flame of the heart of God. God goes with us and we with God. For our lives are full of the holy and mysterious spiral of birth and death and resurrection into new life physically and spiritually. We place our life within the life of Jesus for him, who is God revealed to us in human form, to shape it, guide it, mould it and impart its fullest meaning to us. And baptism is where we see this most clearly. For in baptism we are not only symbolically washed of all that draws us away from God, not only dedicated to life seeking God, not only naming the eternal truth that we are God's from forever and for always and deeply loved, not only claiming that in the life of Jesus we see a truth worth following, BUT we enter into Jesus' very death and resurrection, into his very being and he into our very selves utterly and completely. We become part of that saving mystery we celebrate this night. We die to be reborn.
Mia, tonight you are joining your life to this holy mystery. You are claiming the truth that God has loved you from before you were born and will be with you and love you every single second of your life. When we were talking about baptism you said that Church is like family. And you were right. It is. You are part of God's family, of Jesus' family, and nothing you can ever say or do will kick you out of this family. It is your home for ever. By being baptized you say yes to God in your life and that in Jesus you see God's reflection and image—not only or exclusively here, but very clearly here. You continue and begin the journey of the soul this night. You become part of that holy light of Christ burning at the center of the world. You see yourself now as part of Christ, someone who shows God's love and meaning in the world. What a sacred gift! What a marvelous thing! What a powerful act! Tonight the Mia you are and were becomes all that and yet a new Mia that has been bathed in God's love and sealed in God's power. You have opened up your heart even further to God. You are on that journey, the most important journey of your life—to know your soul and to live a deeply spiritual life, a truly real life.
And for all of us who are celebrating with her we too remember and renew that same movement within our lives. And we commit to join with Mia and each other to discover ever more fully our life in God through prayers, through sharing the story of Jesus, through the bread and the wine, and through acts of mercy and compassion and justice to continue the journey into the fullest and realest of lives. Let us now enter with joy and hope into the mystery of being the light burning at the center of the world, small but unquenchable, flickering through the darkness and growing in strength, drawing us and all creation from death in to life and ever knowing that resurrection is happening now, yesterday, tomorrow, for Jesus has been raised and is alive. And his voice is calling us into being and into that joy. Amen.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Good Friday, April 10, 2009
April 10, 2009
The Rev. Tasha Brubaker Garrison
Good Friday, Year B
Out of his anguish he shall see light. Out of anguish we shall see light. In the anguish of a dying man we are made whole. By the distortion, the perversion, of justice and of our relationships with each other he was taken away to be slaughtered. This man who broke laws and disturbed the peace and could be seen as guilty is yet not guilty. He exposes through his broken body our brokenness. He exposes through his silence our silences of which we dare not speak. Through his truth we see the truth of ourselves, that we are not what we pretend we are.
As we spend time at the cross and look to the dying Jesus what is the light we shall see? What is the meaning, the deepest, truest, profoundest meaning, of this cross? Is it merely to wipe the slate clean so we can repeat the story again, not learning, not moving forward? Or is it to expose a hidden truth that is dynamic, transforming and pulling us into a new life? Does it merely let us be or does it propel us into that God-driven reality of constant becoming?
What does this story, this event, this death show us? Out of this anguish what shall we see about our own heart and soul, about our own lives? Out of this anguish what shall we see about ourselves in our relationships with others? Out of this anguish what shall we see about the world around us?
As we sit at the cross, as we wait at the cross, let this story speak to us. May this anguish give the light of sight. May this anguish reveal to us the mystery of our God and our faith. May we listen. May we pause. May we open ourselves to be pierced by the nails. May he startle us...again. Amen.
The Rev. Tasha Brubaker Garrison
Good Friday, Year B
Out of his anguish he shall see light. Out of anguish we shall see light. In the anguish of a dying man we are made whole. By the distortion, the perversion, of justice and of our relationships with each other he was taken away to be slaughtered. This man who broke laws and disturbed the peace and could be seen as guilty is yet not guilty. He exposes through his broken body our brokenness. He exposes through his silence our silences of which we dare not speak. Through his truth we see the truth of ourselves, that we are not what we pretend we are.
As we spend time at the cross and look to the dying Jesus what is the light we shall see? What is the meaning, the deepest, truest, profoundest meaning, of this cross? Is it merely to wipe the slate clean so we can repeat the story again, not learning, not moving forward? Or is it to expose a hidden truth that is dynamic, transforming and pulling us into a new life? Does it merely let us be or does it propel us into that God-driven reality of constant becoming?
What does this story, this event, this death show us? Out of this anguish what shall we see about our own heart and soul, about our own lives? Out of this anguish what shall we see about ourselves in our relationships with others? Out of this anguish what shall we see about the world around us?
As we sit at the cross, as we wait at the cross, let this story speak to us. May this anguish give the light of sight. May this anguish reveal to us the mystery of our God and our faith. May we listen. May we pause. May we open ourselves to be pierced by the nails. May he startle us...again. Amen.
Monday, April 6, 2009
April 5, 2009, Palm Sunday, Year B
April 5, 2009
The Rev. Tasha Brubaker Garrison+
Palm Sunday, Year B
What more is there to say? The sermon is the Gospel reading. There is so much in it from the triumphant arrival of Jesus into Jerusalem on the promise of justice and hope to teachings on discipleship to the institution of Holy Communion, our foundational sacrament, to insight on sin and human nature to the death of Jesus.
We are now with that remnant of disciples—Joseph, Mary, Mary Magdalene—who are looking at the tomb. All around us are suffering, betrayal, pain, death, the triumph of worldly power and fear over love and truth. Jesus has been killed, executed. The power of this world has won. “Don’t take me out of my darkness! “ it yells. “Don’t give me freedom from rivalry, blame, and my illusions of control!” it screams. “Don’t dare offer me forgiveness because I don’t want to believe the eternal truth that we are all equal before God and all in pain and all in need of forgiving each other!” it cries. And the nails are hammered into the cross through human flesh. And the guns and bombs and viruses and diseases mow down people who are seeking dignity and a place in our world. And the power of money and the sin of greed grind more and more into poverty and need. And our fear and our distorted desires, what Pilate rightly names jealousy, and vision shred our souls and blind our eyes. And alienation and evil seem to have won. There is no new future. The spark of hope and new life has been quenched. Order has been restored. The kingdom of God in which Jesus will drink the wine again with us is not here. We see only hell.
We see it then and we see it now. There were many stories to choose from both ones from our own nation and others. I chose 2007. Burma. The leaders of the ‘88 uprising to overthrow the military dictatorship lead from behind the walls of their homes and voices for justice and freedom are whispers.
August 15th: a sharp increase in fuel prices spurs protests asking for lower prices, improved health care and education, and basic utilities. Most people live in deep poverty. The crackdown and arrests are swift.
September 18th: 1,000 monks take to the streets in peaceful protest. Their numbers grow as they are joined by lay men and women.
September 23rd: 150 nuns join with 15,000 monks to march peacefully through Yangon in the 6th day of presence and witness. The newly formed Alliance of All-Burmese Monks vows to continue protests until the junta is deposed.
September 24th: tens of thousands join the monks and create a human shield around them from the gathering military forces. The Dalai Lama among others blesses this movement. The world is holding its breath that the winds of hope and liberation may finally blow through this nation so long under the repressive rule of a violent elite. Do you see? Palm Sunday is recreating itself on the streets of Yangon.
September 26th: the military backlash begins in earnest with small, but growing numbers of monks and protesters killed, beaten and taken to prison. Parts of the military refuse to cooperate, but the detentions continue.
October 1st: 4,000 monks rounded up and arrested and in the days to come monasteries are emptied. More and more people and leaders are arrested. Hunger and misery continue to rise. Conflicting reports that have never been fully verified emerge of mass killings. Official reports say 13 dead. Democracy groups estimate closer to 200, but some military leaders who fled speak of massacres in the countryside and that the number killed is far higher. And the rest of the world has not been able to help them turn the tide.
October 5th: The government declares the situation is now back to normal and people are holding peaceful rallies to welcome the successful national convention and principals of the new constitution. Order has been restored. Do you hear the echo? Key leaders are under arrest. Pro-government rallies are staged with coerced crowds.
October 9th: Ye Min Tun, who resigned from his long service in the Burmese foreign ministry because of the government’s violent response says: “I think it’s not the end. I think it is just the beginning of the revolution.”
But for now, we all wait. There is no revolution. The oppression continues and leaves thousands of victims in its wake. The suffering after the typhoon in 2008 showed that. Was it all for nothing? How much longer will this power have command? And the crucified Jesus is still on the cross in the shape of saffron-clad Burmese monk and an executed Japanese journalist and the bodies of those behind bars praying for freedom. Not just freedom for them, but for their leaders too, that they may break free of their prison of power and pain.
The power of love, peace and compassion seems so flimsy, so futile. We cry out where is God when lies and hate are vindicated? We cry out where is God when we sink into our violence upon each other--beings made in the image of God through neglect or contempt or physical action kill other beings made in the image of God? Why are you absent? Why have you forsaken us? Why don’t you save us? Why don’t you make yourself known? Intervene magically and cast a spell. God’s answer is to hang, crucified. Our God is a crucified God. Our God hung and crucified looks down on the world and says on this cross at the edge of life and death and love and hate is the knowledge of salvation. I am a crucified God, Jesus says. I do not crucify you; you crucify each other. And since I can’t show you any other way out of that vicious cycle, I will be a crucified God for you.
The power of love, peace and compassion seems so true. For we all know who truly was victorious in those protests in Burma. Not the military. Not the government. They won the world’s game, but not God’s. And in the silence the answer lies. In the silence something is being born. In the silence the fruit of the vine is being poured to be drunk new in the kingdom of God. Maybe that foreign ministry official was right. This is just the beginning. But for now, we stand at the cross, we stand at the tomb, and we believe in a crucified God. Amen.
The Rev. Tasha Brubaker Garrison+
Palm Sunday, Year B
What more is there to say? The sermon is the Gospel reading. There is so much in it from the triumphant arrival of Jesus into Jerusalem on the promise of justice and hope to teachings on discipleship to the institution of Holy Communion, our foundational sacrament, to insight on sin and human nature to the death of Jesus.
We are now with that remnant of disciples—Joseph, Mary, Mary Magdalene—who are looking at the tomb. All around us are suffering, betrayal, pain, death, the triumph of worldly power and fear over love and truth. Jesus has been killed, executed. The power of this world has won. “Don’t take me out of my darkness! “ it yells. “Don’t give me freedom from rivalry, blame, and my illusions of control!” it screams. “Don’t dare offer me forgiveness because I don’t want to believe the eternal truth that we are all equal before God and all in pain and all in need of forgiving each other!” it cries. And the nails are hammered into the cross through human flesh. And the guns and bombs and viruses and diseases mow down people who are seeking dignity and a place in our world. And the power of money and the sin of greed grind more and more into poverty and need. And our fear and our distorted desires, what Pilate rightly names jealousy, and vision shred our souls and blind our eyes. And alienation and evil seem to have won. There is no new future. The spark of hope and new life has been quenched. Order has been restored. The kingdom of God in which Jesus will drink the wine again with us is not here. We see only hell.
We see it then and we see it now. There were many stories to choose from both ones from our own nation and others. I chose 2007. Burma. The leaders of the ‘88 uprising to overthrow the military dictatorship lead from behind the walls of their homes and voices for justice and freedom are whispers.
August 15th: a sharp increase in fuel prices spurs protests asking for lower prices, improved health care and education, and basic utilities. Most people live in deep poverty. The crackdown and arrests are swift.
September 18th: 1,000 monks take to the streets in peaceful protest. Their numbers grow as they are joined by lay men and women.
September 23rd: 150 nuns join with 15,000 monks to march peacefully through Yangon in the 6th day of presence and witness. The newly formed Alliance of All-Burmese Monks vows to continue protests until the junta is deposed.
September 24th: tens of thousands join the monks and create a human shield around them from the gathering military forces. The Dalai Lama among others blesses this movement. The world is holding its breath that the winds of hope and liberation may finally blow through this nation so long under the repressive rule of a violent elite. Do you see? Palm Sunday is recreating itself on the streets of Yangon.
September 26th: the military backlash begins in earnest with small, but growing numbers of monks and protesters killed, beaten and taken to prison. Parts of the military refuse to cooperate, but the detentions continue.
October 1st: 4,000 monks rounded up and arrested and in the days to come monasteries are emptied. More and more people and leaders are arrested. Hunger and misery continue to rise. Conflicting reports that have never been fully verified emerge of mass killings. Official reports say 13 dead. Democracy groups estimate closer to 200, but some military leaders who fled speak of massacres in the countryside and that the number killed is far higher. And the rest of the world has not been able to help them turn the tide.
October 5th: The government declares the situation is now back to normal and people are holding peaceful rallies to welcome the successful national convention and principals of the new constitution. Order has been restored. Do you hear the echo? Key leaders are under arrest. Pro-government rallies are staged with coerced crowds.
October 9th: Ye Min Tun, who resigned from his long service in the Burmese foreign ministry because of the government’s violent response says: “I think it’s not the end. I think it is just the beginning of the revolution.”
But for now, we all wait. There is no revolution. The oppression continues and leaves thousands of victims in its wake. The suffering after the typhoon in 2008 showed that. Was it all for nothing? How much longer will this power have command? And the crucified Jesus is still on the cross in the shape of saffron-clad Burmese monk and an executed Japanese journalist and the bodies of those behind bars praying for freedom. Not just freedom for them, but for their leaders too, that they may break free of their prison of power and pain.
The power of love, peace and compassion seems so flimsy, so futile. We cry out where is God when lies and hate are vindicated? We cry out where is God when we sink into our violence upon each other--beings made in the image of God through neglect or contempt or physical action kill other beings made in the image of God? Why are you absent? Why have you forsaken us? Why don’t you save us? Why don’t you make yourself known? Intervene magically and cast a spell. God’s answer is to hang, crucified. Our God is a crucified God. Our God hung and crucified looks down on the world and says on this cross at the edge of life and death and love and hate is the knowledge of salvation. I am a crucified God, Jesus says. I do not crucify you; you crucify each other. And since I can’t show you any other way out of that vicious cycle, I will be a crucified God for you.
The power of love, peace and compassion seems so true. For we all know who truly was victorious in those protests in Burma. Not the military. Not the government. They won the world’s game, but not God’s. And in the silence the answer lies. In the silence something is being born. In the silence the fruit of the vine is being poured to be drunk new in the kingdom of God. Maybe that foreign ministry official was right. This is just the beginning. But for now, we stand at the cross, we stand at the tomb, and we believe in a crucified God. Amen.
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