Fourth United Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.)
  • Home
    • Leadership
  • Sharing Our Building
  • Worship
  • Make a Donation
  • Contact Us/Keep in Touch
  • Directions and Map
  • Words From the Pastor
  • News & Events
    • Calendar
  • Bible Blog: Rev. George Waters
  • Presbytery of East Tennessee
  • Sermons at Fourth United

I, Judas.  An Easter Sermon.

4/30/2014

1 Comment

 

20 April 2014
Matthew 28:1-10

Fourth United Presbyterian Church

The world is shouting “Halleluia!”  We’ve been anticipating this joyous day for 40 days and nights!  Christ is Risen!!!  The morning dawns, and all around Knoxville, sweeping across the country, and over the entire world of Christian communities, the sun rises over new landscapes as the world turns.  And people are worshipping outside.  We are all singing songs.  We are so ready for this day!!  All through the dark days and wanderings of Lent we’ve anticipated the Technicolor of Easter.  We move quickly during Holy Week from deep grief and sorrow to loud celebration.  Of course we can do this, because we have known the outcome all along.  Our choirs have rehearsed the songs, the lilies have been ordered, the family trips planned.  We are able to move past the shock of the crucifixion quickly, and into the wonder of new life.

But Lent was an unknown season to the disciples.  The journey from darkness to light was, for at time at least, only darkness, as they coped with their grief and fear, then shock and confusion over the events between crucifixion and resurrection, between Palm Sunday and today.  They did not know the songs, they did not buy the lilies, they had no practical reason before seeing their Lord in the flesh again to believe that there was any cause for celebration. 



 On that first Holy Saturday, the day before the Resurrection, the disciples were left with no Jesus.  They had no new story. Only the memory of the horrors of the day before.  Those who loved Jesus had only just seen him die on the cross. They had watched his arrest, and had seen his shame and his agony as the crowds taunted him.  They had endured the vigil, watching Jesus’ labored breath become more difficult, until finally he breathed his last. On Holy Saturday, all of those who loved Jesus dearly were only just waking up to the shock of what had happened.  Their grief was new, and raw.

A lot of how we experience Easter has to do with how we understand Holy Saturday, the day before Easter. 
Even the zeal with which we celebrate Easter Sunday is informed and shaped by the remembrance of our attitude on Holy Saturday.  Similarly, a lot of how we celebrate a new hopeful period or event in our own lives depends on how we coped in the uncertain days leading up to it.

 When the chips are down, many behave in ways not necessarily becoming.  When there is a waiting period, and the outcome is unknown, folks panic.  They run, they hide, they deny things they have done and claim deeds they haven’t. People scramble to survive.  It’s natural and human.  The disciples were no exception.

We know that for fear many of them had locked themselves up.  Possibly tying one on, in disbelief and sadness at what had come, and with great fear for their own lives.  They could see the writing on the wall.  When a civil rights leader like Jesus is slain, the air is popping with violence, and one wrong move can turn to wholesale slaughter. 

In the midst of their grief on the morning of the third day, the women find that he is missing from the tomb and declare this to the others.  On first hearing, this miracle sparked more fear, and more confusion. The disciples do not believe at first. And we see individuals from women, to disciples, to people along the road to Emmaus, responding to Jesus in their own ways.  All had their own ways of coping on Holy Saturday, so all come to the Resurrection from a different space and different means to receive Him.  As the story unfolds and the aftermath of the resurrection is realized, fear turns to wonder, and wonder turns to joy. 


There is one who couldn’t make it through holy Saturday, his shame too great.  Judas.  

Judas: not a name we often hear on Easter Sunday.  That disciple who sold Jesus out for 30 pieces of silver, who dipped his bread in with Jesus, who was know to be the betrayer even at the table on the night of the Last Supper.   So near to his Lord that he was using the same bowl, sitting in a place of honor near the Master.  He was, as Rev. Bruce Galyon told us on Thursday night, a trusted friend. Not only that, he was hand picked by Jesus himself to accompany him as a disciple.  Rev. Galyon made the point that betrayal as deep as that of Judas is only possible if there is a close, trusting relationship to begin with.  We are not betrayed ever by casual acquaintances. 

Judas has been treated poorly throughout history:  thought of as the worst sinner imaginable for his betrayal.  Depicted in the 9th circle of Dante’s Inferno, Judas is remembered by poets and many theologians as no less of an evil than the devil himself. 

Judas is not remembered much on Easter Sunday because he never made it to this day alive.  Think of the agony he must have felt as he thought about facing the other disciples, or upon hearing the news of Jesus being tortured.  The self loathing that came, probably only moments after Jesus was arrested.  It is understandable that Judas might be overwhelmed with his grief to a point  beyond that of the other apostles, to a point where he despaired of hope.   Jesus had said of this betrayer, “Woe be to him, he would wish he had never been born. “ And he so wished it, that he ended his own life.

As a kid I always felt honestly sorry for Judas.  What he did was necessary to the story and to the fulfillment of what Jesus accomplished, but he gets no positive credit.  We refer to liars and betrayers as “Judas.”  But  he was not the only disciple to betray Jesus:  the story is filled with betrayals, even from Peter, the Rock, who denied even knowing him when he was asked after Jesus was arrested.  



The great tragedy is that the grief, shame, fear, and doubt of Holy Saturday overwhelmed til his own shame at what he had done overpowered and darkened any hope he might have had.  Judas lost all hope, and that is a greater sin and tragedy than the betrayal itself. 

John Cassian, a 4th century desert monk, had this to say about the depth of despair that caused Judas to move beyond betrayal to his own suicide:  “there is another still more objectionable sort of dejection, which produces in the guilty soul no amendment of life or correction of faults, but the most destructive despair: which did not make Cain repent after the murder of his brother, or Judas after the betrayal, hasten to relieve himself by making amends, but drove him to hang himself in despair.”

Poor Judas.  Dead on Holy Saturday.  No Resurrection, no Easter, no more sunrises of any kind.  It is not too hard to imagine the line of thinking that got him, the betrayer of Jesus the Christ, to the point of ending his own life:

I, Judas, have killed my friend.  Oh God, I feel sick.  I  wonder, did he know the kiss I gave meant I’m sorry??  And now he’s gone, and everything has fallen apart, because of me.  Because of ME!  If I had just been a little bit stronger,, or waited a little longer….  But I was desperate for money and for all this crazy to stop.  I mean, coming back into Jerusalem?   That’s idiocy.  And we marched right in with him. It was so stupid.   But if it weren’t for me, things might have died down, and Jesus might be here, right now, telling another of his wild stories and making the government mad.  Oh God.  I loved him so much.  And I’m the one who ended it all.  All of it.  Oh, man.  I’ve got no place to go now.  They’ll never take me back…why would they?  They’ll never trust me again. And they shouldn’t.  I am weak, and greedy. And  I hate everything about myself.  The world would be better off without me, and God knows I don’t deserve to live another minute.  There is no alternative.  I hate myself, and it’s time for me to die.  At least then I won’t feel the pain any more. 

Is there not still time to redeem Judas Iscariot?

Frederick Buechner, a Presbyterian minister and author, talks about the “Harrowing of Hell” in one of his sermons. This is a poetic interpretation of Holy Saturday which says that on that day after he had been crucified and died, Jesus went down to hell to rescue good souls who had been languishing there.  Buechner says that one of Jesus’ tasks that day was to visit with an old friend:  Judas, to tell him that things were alright between them.

I yearn for Judas to hear this good news.  For him to know that joy that we celebrate today.  

   “I, Jesus, knew exactly who you were and all the things that you were capable of when I chose you, Judas.  I knew you were intelligent, creative, ready for an adventure, a little bit jealous, ambitious, and that you could get scared easily.  I knew some day it would be too much for all of you.  And yes, I know you love me still.  What you don’t know is that I love YOU still.  And always have.  Why do you think I sat and ate with you, even when I knew what you were going to do?  I love you, Judas.  When people are scared they do things they regret.  You were desperate to get some sort of control over your life, and you felt I’d blown all of that for you by going back to Jerusalem.  You are a smart man, and you know the ways of humans.  You took a little money on the side, held it back, because it didn’t make sense to you to share it and give it like we did.  You were just trying to survive. 
    Judas, it’s OK.  You’re only human.  And I know how bad you feel.   Come with me and let’s start over.  I want you to sit next to me again, dip your bread in the same bowl as mine, travel with me, walk with me, take risks with me, even though I know you might betray me again.  If it means you’ll live in me, I want all of you.  All of it.  Every sinful, beautiful cell in your body and part of your soul.  I love you Judas. 
    I came back for you.”



When you find yourself in a Holy Saturday time of your life, take courage and remember Judas.  Because Jesus came back to bring new life to the Judas in all of us.  

1 Comment

Thinking About the Great Social Issue of the Early Church

3/4/2013

1 Comment

 
                  There was one overriding issue that dominated the hearts and minds of the early followers of Christ, and that was “the Gentile Question.”  Could Gentiles be accepted into the household of God, the community of faith without converting to the Jewish customs and rituals, including circumcision and laws governing eating and table fellowship? 

Gentiles had been accepted in the past into the Jewish worshipping community and were known as “God-fearers.”  However, they were still looked upon as a separate group and not admitted without condition to the community of faith.  Many early Jewish-Christian believers felt that Gentiles should be accepted under basically the same terms that “God-fearers” had been accepted in the synagogues by the Jews.  But, revelations came to Peter and to Paul (see Acts, chapters 9 & 10 and following), and outpourings of the Holy Spirit on Gentiles occurred as well so that Peter could no longer deny the will of God to open the kingdom fully to Gentiles as well as Jews.  And, Paul was commissioned as an Apostle with his primary mission to be to proclaim God’s grace in Christ to the Gentiles! 

This was a radical social and religious position to take in 1st century Judea.  It caused tremendous discomfort and drew attacks and persecution from the synagogue who felt such communities of faith that were blurring the differences between Jew and Gentile were violating the will of God and were polluting the very people of God and the worship of God.   If you read Acts 15, you see there was a great council in Jerusalem with the Apostles to the Jews on one side, and the Apostle to the Gentiles (Paul accompanied by Barnabus) on the other side.  An agreement was reached, but clearly it was not easy.  Just read Galatians, Chapter 2 to see how volatile an issue this was, as Paul tells of a heated and public conflict between him and Peter over table fellowship between Jews and Gentiles!

All of this makes me think back on Jesus’ ministry in Galilee, and how his table fellowship with tax collectors and sinners (unclean, immoral Jews) provoked controversy about whether such practices could possibly be the will of God.  And, Jesus also had some close dealings with Samaritans as well, who were thought unclean by Jews, and Jesus also praised the faith of some Gentiles as well, and even emphasized how God had reached out through the prophets of old to heal Gentiles who were lepers when there were plenty of lepers in Israel who were not healed. 

The movement of the Gospel of God in Jesus is a movement that provokes controversy because it brings people into a place of fellowship that challenges the barriers of social privilege, custom, and religious tradition.  If we follow Jesus, we will come to a place where our time-tested opinions and ways will be shaken.  And, most of us run from that type of challenge.  Life is hard enough anyway, who wants to be shaken and challenged, even disturbed at religious gatherings or fellowships? 

If I as a white person become part of a community of believers that has black persons as well, I will have to deal at many levels with the social prejudice I have absorbed as a member of this society.  And, I assume that black persons who become a part of a community of faith that has white persons will have to come to terms with issues as well that aren’t that comfortable to deal with.  Sure, black people have always had to get along with white people in this society to survive, but it is another thing to become united in a true fellowship of faith. 

The early church went through struggles to overcome barriers set up by centuries and centuries of social influence, and the influence of religious/ethnic traditions.  Though we live in a more enlightened society in some ways, we still bear within our souls the sin of a society that produces division and hostility from diversity instead of producing a “Rainbow People” that Bishop Desmond Tutu proclaimed and in some measure helped begin in South Africa.  We would do well to read the New Testament with an eye to this issue of reconciliation between Jew and Gentile that Paul emphasized so strongly and experienced so wonderfully.    

1 Comment

January 07th, 2013

1/7/2013

1 Comment

 
Matthew 2:1-12

Epiphany

6 Jan 13

Throughout the Advent season we have talked a lot about the cast of characters surrounding Jesus’ birth:  Zechariah, Elizabeth, parents of John the Baptist.  Mary, and Joseph. We have talked about the shepherds and their response to the good news proclaimed to them by the angels.  We have been concerned with one family , and one group of fields, as we’ve seen the story of the Christ child fulfilled. 

Today, on epiphany, the story gets a wider audience.  Epiphany means “manifestation”  or even more accurately “striking appearance” in the Greek. Today is the day we celebrate that Christ was made manifest, or known, to more than just the surrounding neighborhood.  We celebrate that and hear the story of the wise men who came from the East.

 Often when we have a nativity scene it includes sheep, various other animals, shepherds, Mary, Joseph, the baby Jesus, some angels and three kings or wise men with presents.  They are so much a part of the scene that we have incorporated them into our understanding without really thinking about who they are, or more importantly where they came from and HOW they came to be there in Bethlehem.

Because in fact, epiphany is the manifestation, or appearance, of Christ’s coming to people from far away.  Beyond the fields of the shepherds in Bethlehem, Beyond the country of Judea, far to the East, these wise men saw signs in the sky that told them a King had been born to the Jews. 

Epiphany, January 6, was my dad’s birthday. If he were alive today he would be turning 83.  He felt a special affinity for the wise men because of his birthday and did a lot of research on what they may have seen in the night sky.  It turns out there was a celestial anomaly that would have accounted for a bright star that could be seen over Bethlehem from the East.  They knew enough about the stars to specifically predict that an important child, a ruler, was being born to the Jews.

They came to see Christ and to know his importance from all that distance.  Not because they had been reading the Hebrew scriptures, not because they heard prophecies, not because the Angel Gabriel came to them in a dream, not because they were well versed in the law of the Jewish people !   They knew none of the Jewish religion at all.

They came from a distant land because they had been studying the stars!  They were not familiar with scripture, or God!  There was a religious group from Eastern Arabic lands called Zoroastrianism, which worshipped the sun and studied the stars as a guide for living and it is believed by many scholars that these men were probably priests of that religion.

This might make some feel uncomfortable.  But not long after Jesus was born people who hadn’t ever heard of God, who worshipped in a different religion, who were arabs from the land of Persia, which we now know as Iran, came a long way because they were drawn by what they saw in the stars, to see Jesus, whom they called King, so that they might honor him. 

God works in mysterious ways! And not always through the conventional means.

God reached these wise men in a way they would understand, in their language :  the stars. He did so with an astronomical sign so obvious they came a very long distance bringing precious, expensive gifts on a treacherous road to a foreign king. If this is not evidence of God’s providence or dominion over absolutely everything then I don’t know what else is.:  that he could call men from so far using only the stars to guide them.

Now look at Herod’s reaction to the wise men’s visit.  He was struck with fear! And not just Herod, but all the capital city of Jerusalem with him.  He got all the scribes and priests together to talk about it.

Why would Herod not want to hear about the coming of the Messiah, do you suppose?  Why would anyone not want to hear about more people coming to know God’s love in the world?

In Herod’s case it’s pretty obvious:  Herod was himself King.  If there was a new baby who was to be king, Messiah, then where does that leave Herod?  Displaced.  He and the priests and scribes.  He had a lot to lose if Jesus was the Christ, the one to come save them all.  Everything in his title, everything he’d worked for and come to know, would change.

Today, God still speaks to people, I believe, in ways that are unknown to us Christians.  In ways that are beyond our fields, beyond our shepherds, in the languages of other religions, in customs that are strange to us.   God calls people from all over the world, from lowly and miserable to grand ruler, and does it like an all powerful God, using the entire universe as his invitation.

It’s so easy to go Herod on this idea.  Even within Christianity we can’t even agree from denomination to denomination about the proper procedures for worship, or the way to administer the sacraments.  Entire denominations have split over over disagreements on how to administer baptism, or who can take communion when.  After the black slaves were freed in this country at first they were not allowed to take communion, and then later they took communion but at completely separate times.  Even at God’s table, we humans find a way to divide ourselves and keep our power alive.  We become accustomed to a ritual, and before long we say, “ Our way is right, everybody else is a heretic.”  Yet, here, in the Biblical witness, right after the beautiful tale of the birth of Jesus, three scientists from another religion come all the way from Iran to tell king Herod they’ve been reading their horoscopes and heard there was a Messiah born to the Jews. 

The fact is, we build our own empires within our belief in Christ, within our churches, our own little pockets of power, and like Herod, we work to protect them.

When Christ said in Matthew 19 it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than it is for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God, I don’t think he was trying to say people with a lot of money are evil.  I think he was trying to say if a person has got a lot that they are holding on to in this world, or a lot to lose as Herod did, that person is not going to be as open to the good news of Christ’s love.  And they certainly won’t be ready to see God working in the stars or other unusual means. 

Because it is the kind of manifestation that empties you, that changes you, that takes away what you thought was important and replaces it with something far more valuable.

1 Comment

Worshiping with Quakers

10/29/2012

1 Comment

 
10/29/12

Worshipping With Quakers

Rev. Elizabeth A. Peterson

“When we gather for worship, we try to follow two simple guidelines:  we don’t decide ahead of time that we are going to speak, and we don’t decide ahead of time that we are not going to speak.”  These were the simple instructions given to us by Millie Gimmel, a leader of the West Knoxville Friends’ Meeting, as she led us in a brief time of worship in our Gathering Hall last Thursday night. 

When Quakers worship they gather and enter into a time of silence together. This silence  is an intentional listening for the “still, small voice of God” as a corporate body, rather than as a personal or isolated time of meditation.  There are no creeds, no hymns, no scripture readings. Instead, if a friend feels compelled to speak, they stand and share with the assembly what they feel called to say in that moment.  Sometimes, they told us, there is a lot of sharing, and sometimes the entire worship time is spent in silence.  It is quite simple on the face of things.  But this can be daunting for Presbyterians who love shaping words into beautifully wrought prayers and eloquent sermons.

We settled in, all of us, to this silence, the Presbyterians taking a bit longer to stop our fidgeting.  Eventually, all was quiet.  At first, I didn’t know what to look at.  I’m used to praying with my eyes closed, but this time I kept my eyes open, and looked around at the people gathered there.  There were folks of all ages, black and white, some looking quite comfortable with the silence, some casting furtive glances at the exit door.

I went through my usual mental gymnastics for times like this:  “Should I say something to set an example for my parishioners that it can be done?”  “Should I keep quiet and let others talk?”  “How much silence is good, and how much is awkward?”   I was acutely aware in the first couple of minutes how uncomfortable I am, and our culture is, with long periods of silence.  We go to great lengths to avoid it, filling the air with mindless chatter or media distractions.  

But as the silence settled in, I felt a change in myself, and in the group.  The awkwardness gave way to an attitude of expectant waiting.  There were some children in the room moving around, and noises from downstairs and the street outside, but these became a comfortable backdrop to our silent communion. And we all listened, together.  I found myself letting go of the need to set an example or to lead, and simply gave in to the silence itself.  I began to enjoy the close but quiet proximity with others, and gradually let go of the compulsion to put my feelings to words, or to make sense of things, or to manage the mood of the room.  It was both relaxing and energizing. 

Before I knew it, our time of worship had come to an end, and I was left with a sense of wanting more.  I had indeed felt the Spirit moving during that time, and it was apparent that others had as well.   Our groups had only just met, but after worshipping we were easier with each other, and it was as if a blanket of peace had been laid over all our shoulders. The Quakers who joined us that night have a heart for intentional community, and an open and alive spirit in their congregation that gives me hope, both for the spirit of our city and for the revitalization of my own soul.  And several days later, I still feel a longing to linger with others who are listening for that “still, small voice.”

1 Comment

Start Where You Are.  

10/8/2012

0 Comments

 
The sign on the wall at the YMCA in a small town in North Carolina said: “Start where you are; use what you’ve got; do what you can.”

I was taken by this advice, and especially by that first part: “Start where you are.”  Because it seems to me we are forever wanting to imagine we are somewhere else than we are, or thinking that we can’t get started towards anything good unless we can change the starting place.  But, guess what?  We can’t change our starting place.  Where we are is where we are, no matter how much we wish we were somewhere else. 

Start where you are.  Not where someone else thinks you are, or where you are pretending to be in front of everyone else.  START WHERE YOU ARE.  Where are you today?  Where am I?  You might be sick, wishing you were well.  Start where you are.  You might be deeply hurt because you have lost a good friend.  You might be wishing so badly you hadn’t lost her or him, but you have.   Start where you are.  You might be in jail wishing you had never gone to that party last Friday night, but you went and one thing led to another.  You are in jail.  Start where you are.  You have made a number of mistakes as a father, and now you’ve barely got one child that will speak to you.  You can sit around and make all sorts of excuses about it all, but whatever you want to pretend, you are where you are – alone on your birthday again.  Start where you are, even if its hard to admit it. 

Some of us are working so hard to avoid the truth of our lives, to avoid facing our real situation.  Some of us are just brokenhearted from some deep losses, some terrible mistakes, some tragic misunderstandings.  And, we are spending all the energy we have inside us to avoid facing what we feel deep down.  We are trying to drink it away, play it away, shop it away, eat it away or drug it away.  We are trying to keep so busy we won’t even be able to notice what has happened, what is happening to us.

But, as Jackson Browne used to sing: “Now matter how fast I run . . . I can never seem to get away from me.” 

Start . . . where . . . you . . . are. . . Those four words come to me as good, holy and somber words.  It also occurs to me that in order to be able face where you really are in life, you usually need to be able to tell another person, as hard as that might seem to do.  Often unless you have someone to tell the truth to, you can never bear to tell it to yourself.  Start where you are.  Not such an easy thing to do.  It requires going down to that bedrock of truth inside of us – that foundation we rarely get to in human life. 

I pray to God that you will be given the grace, the courage and the love of another that will enable you to go to this starting place deep in your soul, in that place where God dwells.  Amen.    


0 Comments

October 08th, 2012

10/8/2012

0 Comments

 
This morning I have a little time I didn't expect to have before court starts.  And, it occurs to me that our Creator and Redeemer, the God of all, begins this day with the raw materials of life everywhere moving in and out of view, and as in the beginning, the Spirit of God hovers over the face of the chaos, brooding in that beautiful and creative Spirit of God over all that is.
 
And, part of that chaotic moving, pulsing life that God looks upon this morning is the movement of our lives: the hesitation in going forward here, the leaping out to embrace, the retreat into a corner, the burgeoning hope, the creeping despair.  God comes to us to create, to weave together what has come apart, to break apart what we have falsely woven together. 
 
And, I say in my spirit: "Come Gracious Spirit, come Lord Jesus. . . come among us, full of grace and truth.  Come to us within, surround, bind us together, or break us apart . . to create new life . . life, this time, from God, imagined in the beauty and heart of God, and poured out upon us like a downpour on parched ground!  And, soften, O God, or puncture if needed, the soil of our hearts that we might soak in your grace, that we might feel the wetness of new life on the dryness of our souls.  Amen. 
0 Comments

Truth and Mercy

8/1/2012

1 Comment

 
Sometimes it is hard to hear the truth about ourselves.  Sometimes our "enemies" speak it as Shemeia did to King David as he called him "a man of blood" and threw rocks at him.  Usually when we hear a hard truth about ourselves from an enemy we don't listen or acknowledge it.  David was an exception to the rule here as he heard Shemeia's cursing without striking back, as he said: "perhaps the Lord has bidden him to curse."

In my experience, even though I might acknowledge there is some truth in an enemy's criticism of me, I never really face what is inside of me.  However, when someone who really cares about me speaks the truth to me, about me, it is very different.  Because when someone who loves you speaks a word of truth about you, you can tell that they are standing with you, in a sense facing the truth about you with you.  It is this kind of love that God gives to human beings, and it is this kind of love that gives God room to save and heal. 

When Jesus spoke a critical word of truth to a man or woman, he did not distance himself from that person, but drew close to them to heal and help and fellowship with that one.  This is why Zaccheaus was able to hope and receive love and share it with others when he was loved by Jesus.  This is why the Samaritan woman at the well rejoiced and celebrated the new life she experienced with others when she experienced her true dignity in her fellowship with Jesus.  This is why Paul tells the Galatians: "Bear you one another's burdens and so fulfill the law of Christ."  It leads me to say: "There is no real truth without mercy, and there is no real mercy without truth."  Amen. 
1 Comment

    Author

    Rev. Elizabeth A. Peterson

    Archives

    April 2014
    March 2013
    January 2013
    October 2012
    August 2012

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

Proudly powered by Weebly