Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia! In the three-year lectionary, we are now in the year of Mark. Some interesting things about Mark’s gospel: it has no Christmas story! You know all that stuff we love in the nativity scenes, with Mary, Joseph, angels and shepherds and wise men? Well, they’re not there in Mark. When we first see Jesus, he is a grown man, coming to the wilderness to be baptized by John. Curious! Another odd thing about Mark is that everything happens “immediately.” It seems that Jesus is in a hurry everywhere he goes. But then, when we get to the Passion of Jesus – his suffering, arrest, and death – it all slows down to a crawl. Fully half of Mark deals only with the last three days of Jesus’ earthly life. Why? It seems the Passion is the center of the story of who Jesus is. And furthermore, as we gather on Easter Sunday, what might we expect from our gospel reading? How about a resurrection? Well, we don’t have one of those either! The gospel ends with this verse: “So [the women] went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” That’s it! Jesus is dead, the tomb is empty, and the women run away, scared out of their wits. Now some of the ancient editors apparently felt that a gospel wasn’t really complete without a resurrection – like maybe it was just an oversight? But in the original manuscripts, this gospel ended with the empty tomb, and I think we should assume that was intended. It’s not that the gospel writer just made a mistake and forgot to stick the resurrection in. Even though Mark is written simply and in some ways with less sophistication, Mark understood very clearly what message he wanted to get across – in short, that this Jesus was the Son of God, and that’s good news! But who did NOT understand who Jesus was and what he was about? The crowds, the religious authorities, the disciples – no one grasps that Jesus is something more than a miracle worker, teacher, and preacher. And even the women who come to the tomb to anoint Jesus’ body, then find him gone, then hear a young man in white tell them he is raised, don’t get it. They are just completely freaked out. They run away, terrified, and don’t tell anyone. Why? People have been asking that question for ages. But how could the women and disciples understand that the Son of God died and rose from the dead? How could they possibly understand what that would mean for them and for all of humanity, into eternity? That was a place that their human minds simply couldn’t go. And it's a little hard for us to wrap our heads around too! So what message do WE take from this surprising non-ending to the gospel of Mark? Frankly, I think Mark’s is my favorite Easter story – or non-story – because it challenges us to think about what Easter really means. Perhaps for us, as for the women fleeing the tomb and the devastated, confused disciples, Easter is our journey of discovery. Discovering what it means to live a Christian life; that Jesus walks with us, in this life and in eternity; that Christ is risen indeed! It’s a lifelong quest to absorb that, for you and me and all of humanity, Jesus came to earth to free us, so that we are no longer separated from God. In leaving us with this scene of the women running away in fear, perhaps Mark was creating an opening for our own faith to grow and blossom. If you or I had been those women, we also might have run away in terror. But now we know the rest of the story! We can begin to perceive this death that led to freedom, the suffering that led to life, the love and grace that can change us and renew us. As scared and clueless as we are sometimes, Easter rises like the morning sun before us, amazing us and lighting up humanity with joy. Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia! Amen!

Our readings on Ash Wednesday really spoke God’s invitation to us to experience change – or, following the theme from our recent celebration of the Transfiguration of Our Lord, we might even say God invites us to be transformed. “Create in me a clean heart, O God,” the psalmist prays. Renew me, restore me with your joy, rescue me! Because we long to be changed and need to be changed, don’t we? Ours is a suffering world; we are familiar with how it feels to be “a troubled spirit,” in the words of the psalmist. We long to be sustained by God’s “bountiful Spirit,” to be changed, transformed, healed, renewed. In the Ash Wednesday gospel from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, which Christians have always understood as a guide for living, Jesus nudges us in the direction of quiet prayer and spiritual practices. He tells us we will find “treasures in heaven” – treasures that won’t decay or rust or ever be stolen by thieves. As we embark on our Lenten spiritual path, those treasures of heaven will feed our souls and nourish our hearts. Nourish our hearts. “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also,” says Jesus. Note that Jesus does NOT say that where your heart is, that’s where your treasure will be. He says the reverse – where your treasure is, that’s where your heart will be. Our hearts follow after our treasure. Interesting – and true! If our treasure is money, our hearts will follow the money. If our treasure is power, we will seek after and love power. If our treasure is family and friends, that’s where our hearts will be. And if Jesus is our treasure, our hearts will live with and rest in Jesus. Makes sense, doesn’t it? Here’s a message for us as we’re blasted out of the season of Epiphany, when those curious wise men went looking for the child Jesus, into Lent (from a commentary by Shelli Williams): “We often profess that Jesus came to change the world. But that really didn’t happen. Does that mean that this whole Holy Birth was a failure, just some sort of pretty, romantic story in the midst of our sometimes chaotic life? Maybe Jesus didn’t intend to change the world at all; maybe Jesus, Emmanuel, God-with-Us, came into this world to change us. Maybe, then, there IS a new normal. It has to do with what we do AFTER. It has to do with how we choose to go back to our lives. Do we just pick up where we left off? Or do we, like those wise men, choose to go home by another way?” Maybe a “new normal” approach can inspire our start to Lent. Maybe “going home by another way” could mean moving toward growth, new hope, and healing. Maybe our Emmanuel, our God-with-Us, DID come into this world to change us. It always seemed that Lent called for guilty, somber feelings. But as we are being led forward, this is a positive thing, a good thing, even a joyful thing – “Restore to me the joy of your salvation,” says the psalmist. We are moving forward, through Lent to Easter, through grief to healing, through brokenness to strength, through sadness to joy, through all that we experience to closer relationship with Jesus. So where is Jesus leading your heart and my heart through these forty days of Lent? Where will we discover our treasure?

On January 7th we celebrate the Baptism of Our Lord. It reminds me of what Martin Luther told himself in times of distress or anxiety: “Remember your baptism!” Locked up in the Wartburg Castle, faced with loneliness and despair, Luther attacked the devil not by shouting, “Be gone, devil!” but with shouts of “I am baptized!” Well, how do I literally remember my baptism? I myself was an infant; I don’t remember a thing. Luther said we should daily remember our baptism. How does that work? Rev. Kwanza Yu of University Church of Hope in Minneapolis said this about baptism: “The occasion may slip from your memory. You may forget the date, lose the certificate, the gown may fall away into dust. If so, you will have lost little. There will still be your baptism to give you strength, the voice to remind you of who you are, the task to which you have been called, and the Holy Spirit to empower you. In that we can live.” There will still be the voice to remind you of who you are. And WHOSE we are. The baptism of Jesus was a bit different than the baptism than we now know, where we baptize babies or teenagers or adults in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Baptism has meant much in our traditions – salvation, a welcome into the family of the Christian church, forgiveness of sins, rebirth, and renewal. Although people of any age can be baptized, we also baptize babies. We do this because we understand baptism as a gift from God that doesn’t have to be earned, studied, or even wholly grasped, intellectually, to be received. Baptism is a gracious gift to us of new life! Now, in the church season of Epiphany, consider the meaning of that word epiphany as a revelation or something shown. When we say, “I had an epiphany!” we mean that a sudden new insight or understanding came to us. What place does baptism have in our lives, what place CAN it have, and how does it bring new insight and understanding to our lives as Christians? Perhaps, as we hear the story of the infant Jesus receiving the gifts of the wise men, we might reflect upon God’s gift of baptism to us as new light, new understanding, new ideas and insight that will lead us into our future, wherever God leads us. As truly an Epiphany! So, a prayer of baptism: God of the flowing waters, you anointed Jesus with the Holy Spirit and revealed him as your beloved Son. Keep all who are born of water and the Spirit faithful in your service, rejoicing to be called your children. Amen! Pastor Janet

Last month Knox and TLC held a wonderful worship service at Riverfront Park (and a picnic!). We “forest-bathed” in the redwoods, and we reflected upon God’s generosity, inspired by the story of Jonah. Jonah, Scripture tells us, was not so happy that God was “a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love, and ready to relent from punishing.” Like a spoiled child, Jonah sits under a tree, pouting and unhappy that God is treating the Ninevites so graciously. Kate Lasso of 8th Day Faith Community reflected (Inward/Outward online gospel reflection) on author Richard Rohr’s comments about how our world stresses performance and behavior that earns a reward. We can only turn ourselves around by embracing the mystery of God’s forgiveness. Richard Rohr writes, “Forgiveness is the great thawing of all logic, reason, and worthiness. It is a melting into the mystery of God as unearned love, unmerited grace, the humility and powerlessness of a Divine Lover.” We can’t “buy or sell grace.” It’s a gift! The author speaks of that person who squeezes onto the bus just as the bus doors are about to close. We rejoice with that person! As in Jesus’ story of the workers in the vineyard, “it doesn’t matter if we got on the bus at the beginning of the route, close to the end, were waiting for ten minutes, or had to sprint half a block. What matters is that the bus came, and we got on. What matters is that God invited us to be workers in the field and we said yes.” What we all have in common is God’s grace, whether we are deserving or not. The story of Jonah and the Ninevites tells us of God’s concern for those who need help the most. God’s grace is even for those people we don’t approve of or who we think are not worthy – and even all the Ninevite animals who would have perished if the city had been destroyed in a show of justice! And in fact, when we think about it, we realize that we’re not so different from those people who, in God’s words, didn’t “know their right hand from their left.” We need God’s grace just as much as they did. We certainly are often in the dark when it comes to the right thing to do, the right words to say, the decisions that need to be made. Where would be without that grace? But we don’t need to worry. We hear the message: God is “gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love.” God loves us, every one of us, you and me and everyone we encounter in our sad world. God’s grace is infinite, inclusive, never-ending. We receive forgiveness, grace, and love, not because we deserve it, but because of who God is. And we are called to be generous and kind, just as God is generous and kind to us. May our gracious, compassionate Lord inspire and help us to be gracious to each other. Let’s get on the bus! Amen. Pastor Janet

It takes all kinds Around the year 53 AD or so, saddened by reports of dissension in the Christian community St. Paul had founded in Corinth, Greece, he wrote this to the converts there: Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of services, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone. (1 Cor. 12:4-6) And then Paul goes on to talk about the various gifts people bring, all emanating from the one Spirit, who allots them just as she chooses. “For just as the body is one and has many members,” Paul says, “and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ.” He tells them they have all been baptized into one body – and now, could they all just get along, please? I was reminded of what the music director in my church in Brooklyn told me many years ago. She quoted her mother, who apparently used to say, whenever people didn’t see eye to eye, or if it seemed mystifying what in the world was inspiring someone’s actions or words at a particular moment – “Well, it takes all kinds to make a world.” Wise words. So true, right? It certainly does take all kinds of people to make a world. But that’s not a bad thing! And you know, I think recognition of that is what Pentecost is all about. We hear about the gathered believers – apparently only 120 persons who made up the church at that time, according to the first chapter of Acts – all of them together, when along come these little fires appearing over all their heads, and then a wind that rocks the house, and then they’re all speaking different languages, but amazingly, they understand each other, each in their own language. This vision of all the languages spoken, all the people from all the different nations – the vision of your sons and daughters prophesying, your young people seeing visions and your old people dreaming dreams, while the Spirit is poured out on everybody – is truly a vision of the beauty of diversity, the beauty of difference, all of it held together in the love and fire and beauty of the Spirit. The wonder, the miracle really, is that we ARE different – and yet we are one. We are diverse, we are not all the same – but we are held together, like a beautiful mosaic, like a harmonic musical piece – in the Spirit.

Christ is risen! … Christ is risen indeed! Happy Easter! In John’s gospel, Mary Magdalene goes to the tomb early on that first Easter morning – while it is “still dark.” Later, as we know because we know the ending, there will be light and life. But right now, there is only darkness. So, in Mary’s darkness, in her lack of understanding, when she sees the stone rolled away from the tomb, she assumes that the body of Jesus was stolen. She runs to the disciples and cries, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him!” Peter and the Beloved Disciple run off to the tomb and discover just the linen wrappings; then, rather anticlimactically, they go back home. But Mary stays. She stands outside the tomb crying, and then she sees two angels – and then the gardener. At least she THINKS it’s the gardener. We, of course, know it is Jesus. He asks her why she is weeping, and she says to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” She is so determined not to abandon the body of Jesus! But then he speaks to her, just her name: “Mary!” We can imagine his voice; maybe he spoke her name softly, with emotion. And when she hears that, she knows it is Jesus. In that moment, she must have understood that her world now was transformed. He doesn’t want her to touch him. Why? Perhaps he wants her to understand that resurrection is not just resuscitation; it is not a return to things as they were but a whole new reality. What no one expected has come to be! Jesus has risen – he is alive! Everything is now changed. And what about us? How does the resurrection affect our own reality? What difference does it make whether Jesus is living or dead? What does it mean to believe that the resurrection is true? Each of us must come to terms with Jesus’ death and resurrection for ourselves. But I think that if we believe that Jesus is risen, that Jesus is life, then our relationship with death is changed. Everything that brings that shadow of death does not own us, or have the final word. And that shadow is hanging over so much in our world, isn’t it? We have all been through a lot in recent years. But the Easter story tells us that all that comes from and leads to death does not control us and will not be victorious over us. What IS the last word? It is hope. We can know from this story that God brings life out of death. That’s really the story of our journey through Lent, through Good Friday – through the betrayal, the suffering, the crucifixion, the death. Not that we can fool ourselves into believing there is no death. We know. And yet – there is life, there is hope, there is resurrection. In the gospel of John, true belief is not the assent of the mind or an intellectual decision. It’s the trust of our hearts. We have heard this story so many times that we might take Jesus’ resurrection for granted. But if we can take Mary’s amazement and joy into our hearts, it can be the foundation of a deep trust, reborn in us every morning. And so we are always moving toward life, toward resurrection, toward heaven. We are on our way, following the risen Christ. Hope in Jesus means hope for us – hope in life everlasting, hope for our journey, hope for our future. It all comes true on Easter. We may not have “seen the Lord” face to face as Mary did; but we can see Jesus in every place in our lives and this world where faith and love and life bloom. Our Resurrected Lord lives among us, all around us, and within us. And that truly is resurrection. Pastor Janet