Sermon for April 8, 2012 - Easter Communion

A couple of weeks ago I was sitting down with someone, and the conversation turned to communion.  She stated something that was very familiar to me.  Communion did not mean anything to her.  She went through the motions, but it was more just an exercise in tradition, or perhaps a “lets just get through this” sentiment..  Get the bread, dip it, eat it move back to sit down. “Why do we do it?” she asked.  She wondered if she was alone in feeling this, though she suspected others felt this way too.  I say this was familiar to me because it is something that I have felt.  Communion as a process of going through the motions.  I asked her if I could share this conversation, because I could not think of a better time to talk about communion than when we celebrate it on Easter morning.

I was going to come in today and describe all the different ways that communion has been important to me.  Just by way of example.  But I realized as I reflected on communion this morning that my understanding of it has changed this week, it is a very personal experience this week.

As some of you may know I was fasting this week, from Good Friday to Easter Sunday.  My thought was that, “Oh, I will spend time with Jesus through fasting.  Then, when we participate in communion it will taste so good, and I’ll experience it in a wonderful new way, and I can share that with the congregation.  What a great Easter Sunday it will be!”  That was my pride talking.  And if I know one thing about God, it is that God finds pride hilarious.

3 times I broke my fast.  Each and every time I was able to rationalize it for myself.  But think about it, in a two day fast I had to eat three times.  Really Crouch?  I was able to say, “Oh I don’t wan to pass out at the wedding, I better eat just in case.”  Or “Oh I don’t want to be sick for the Easter Sunday service, I better eat just in case.”  Or, “Oh, I don’t want to get too run down before the drama.”  Or, and this is my favourite, “In the Jewish way of counting days, the day begins at sunset.  So since the sun has already set, it is technically Easter Sunday right now.”  And I ran to the fridge.

And I felt awful afterwards.  I felt tremendously guilty.  Even this morning when I woke up, I was feeling bad.  I said to myself, “Communion is going to be awful today.”  And then I realized, Wait a minute… I get to have communion today.  It was such a profound moment of grace.  Even though I had not succeeded in my attempt, there is still communion offered for me, there is still Easter Sunday.

Suddenly, this morning I found myself in Peter’s shoes, his story playing out for me.  All full of gusto and bravado, saying I would go with Jesus where no one else would.  Peter who denies Jesus three times, and who in the moment is able to rationalize his own safety, but who feels awful afterwards.  Three times he denied, three times I ate.  But Peter is able to experience such a profound sense of grace when Jesus asks him three times “Do you love me?”  Today, I am very fortunate that I will get to have communion three times, one for each time I broke my fast… as though Jesus is asking me, “Tim, do you love me?”

Does this mean I won’t ever fast again?  No, I’ll try again one day.  It just means that today I am getting a far different lesson than I would have had I succeeded.  A lesson of humility and grace.  That’s what communion means for me today, that’s what Easter Sunday means for me today.

One of the reasons I was happy about the conversation I shared at the beginning of this meditation was because that is a wonderful first step.  I was thrilled when she asked, because that means it matters, or at the very least it means she wants it to matter.

I cannot tell you what communion should mean to you.  I cannot tell you what the resurrection should mean to you.  But we need to spend time with it.  If we want those to mean anything to us, we must spend time with them.  Spend time with them in the company of friends, in the company of family, on our own in prayer and meditation.  I love talking about this stuff, you guys pay me to do it.  But it doesn’t even have to be with me that you speak about it.  Talk with one another.  Be open and honest.  Say, communion means this or that or nothing.  Say the resurrection means this or that or nothing.

Sometimes it will hit us.  We’ll be struck by a thought or an idea or just a feeling.  And sometimes it won’t.  Perhaps more often than not it won’t.  But that’s not what matters.  What is important is the struggle.  What is important is spending time with it.  Today when you’re participating in communion taste the bread, feel it in your mouth.  When you drink the juice, taste it, be aware of it, what does it feel like when you swallow it.  Spend time with the sensations. 

More than that, today is Easter Sunday, this is the most important day in the Christian year.  What does it mean that Christ is risen?  Spend time with it.  Talk about it over dinner tonight.  Talk about whether you and your family and friends believe it literally, believe it figuratively, or think it really has no bearing on your life whatsoever.  Grapple with it.  Place yourself in the story, who do you relate to most?  Where do you fit?  Bring that story into your life today.  Where is there death?  Where is there resurrection?  Have you experienced either of them?  Both of them?  Neither of them?  Talk to me, talk to God.  Let yourself struggle with it.  Really struggle with it.  This is the resurrection of Christ, it is worth the struggle.  Thanks be to God, Amen.

Sermon for February 19, 2012 - Pilgrimage and the Way

Scripture Reading for this sermon is: Mark 9:2-9

Christianity has gotten pretty easy.  It requires only an hour of our time on Sunday morning.  You just need to show up once to get baptized.  It doesn’t really demand too much of us.  Just believe a few things that don’t have too much of a bearing on our lives.  And very often those things that we are asked to believe will change depending on our life and politics.  We have misinterpreted what it means to be inclusive.  Where inclusivity should mean, if you want to join us all are welcome regardless of race, gender, orientation, or ability; we have used it to become a fast food drive thru with an “order what you want “ mentality.  These are just a few of the ways that Christianity has gotten easier.  It fits nicely into our culture of ease.  We want spirituality, to experience relationship with God, right now with minimal effort on our part. 

Wouldn’t that be nice?

In our scripture reading for today, we read about the Transfiguration of Jesus.  It is the story of Jesus up on a mountain, conversing with Elijah and Moses.  While he is there, he seems to undergo a radical change in front of his inner circle who have climbed the mountain with him.  A cloud descends upon the mountain, the voice of God rings out, “This is my Beloved Son!  Listen to him!”

As I reflected on this story, I read something proposed by the theologian Helmut Thielicke that the transfiguration event does not happen to Jesus, rather it happens to the disciples instead.  This story is not about Jesus, he remains as always the incarnation.  This story is about the experience of the disciples. Up on the mountain, it was something inside of them that changed.  They were shaken, they were rattled, and they saw Jesus in his fullness.  They experienced it only for a moment, but even in that moment, Peter knew he wanted it to last longer.

It is no coincidence that this happened up on a mountain.  Throughout the history of human myth and religion, mountains have become symbolic as seats and homes of the divine, where people encounter the holy.  In Judaism, Moses encountered God and received the Law on Mount Sinai.  In Greek Myth, it was Mount Olympus that was the home of the gods.  In Hinduism there is Mount Meru, the seat of Brahma, and the centre of all things.  Mount Kailash in Tibet is another Holy site for Hinduism, as well as for Jainism and Buddhism.  Mount Kailash is so holy, in fact, that it has never been climbed.  And in Islam, it is in the mountains outside of Mecca, where Muhammed received the revelations from God that would become the Koran.

Mountains reach up to the very heavens, and to ancient people it only makes sense that these would be the seats of heavenly beings.  Trying to climb these vast and mighty peaks would have been daunting, a rare occurrence if it ever even happened.

Even today, they are not climbed half heartedly.  People die every year on the great peaks.  And getting within a stone’s throw of the summits does not guarantee reaching them.  Mountains are intimidating, though awe-inspiring.  They are terrifying while beautiful.  But it was when these three disciples climbed one, Peter, James, and John, that they encountered something marvelous, something inexplicable.  It was through this unknowably difficult journey up the mountain that they experienced God.  This was their pilgrimage.

And that’s the way that Christianity should be.  It should be difficult, because it is difficult. 

What do you know about the practice of pilgrimage?

The practice of pilgrimage has been a part of religious custom since long before Christianity. It is the practice of going on a long journey to some far off destination.  There is the Hajj, the pillar of Islam that calls for Muslims to journey to Mecca at least once in their life if they are able. Mount Kailash is in one of the most isolated areas of the already isolated Tibet, where Hindus and Buddhists make a pilgrimage to.  In medieval times, Christian pilgrimages were common, venturing to the Holy Land, or to a relic site was often considered an act of penance.

Pilgrimages are difficult.  It is in their very challange that they are transformative.  If I just had to cross the street to get to the Santiago Cathedral, El Camino, that famous pilgrimage through Spain, would not be a pilgrimage at all.  It would not have any effect on me whatsoever.  If I could just get in my car and drive past Mecca as I look out my window, how would that effect me?  My pilgrimage will cost me something.  My pilgrimage will not be easy.  It is trial.

This is wisdom that we all know.  Certainly for myself, as I look back at my most trying times, those are the times that forged me.  This past year, though very difficult on a personal level, has greatly effected and strengthened my faith; though I may not always have said that as I went through it.  Anyone who has been through a 12 steps program and met with some success will tell you that it is not easy, but out of it they were transformed.  We are not made, we are not transformed in times of relative ease and abundance.  We are created out of the difficult.  I’m a big Calvin and Hobbes fan, and I always love how every time Calvin goes through something that is tough, his dad shouts out that he is building character.  There is truth to this.

This is the pilgrimage.  This is the journey up the mountain by the disciples.  This is exactly what Christianity should be.  This is how we should be looking at our faith.  As a pilgrimage. 

Christianity must reflect that fundamental truth of life, that out of struggle comes growth, out of fire comes steel, out of death comes resurrection.  That is the great pilgrimage of life that is reflected in our faith.

Christianity should not become a faith that says life is tickity boo.  Any time we try to make our faith easier on people, we are re-enforcing the lie that everything can and should be easy.  We are nodding our heads along with the culture, which tries to sell us that garbage.  And which, we all want to agree with, which we all want to believe for obvious reasons.  But deep down inside, we know it is not true.  We know it is not true because all of us have experienced trial and tribulation.  All of us have experienced suffering and pain. 

And so, if we want our faith to be true, if we want our faith to be deep, and transformative, we need to struggle for it.  It must honestly reflect that reality of life, otherwise it loses all credibility.  It must mimic the trial, the challenge of life, and all the while say to us God is present.  The incarnation exists even in times of difficulty, and it will transform us to new life.  Christianity must challenge us, it must call us to live that eternal cycle of life, death, and new life, resurrection.

For the month of February, our book club is reading Karen Armstrong’s The Twelve Steps to a Compassionate Life.  Since selecting this book, I have had a number of people come up to me and tell me how difficult it is.  More than that, some of the steps that she says are a part of the journey to becoming more compassionate are tough.  Certainly the last step, Love Your Enemies, that same commandment from scripture, is not easy.  I have had numerous people express to me how intimidating this book is, and how intimidating the work she asks of us is.  And to all of that, I say, Good.  It is not an easy book, and the path she invites us to, is not an easy path.  It is hard.  But I find it tremendously praise worthy that everyone who has come to me and said, “this book is hard” or “I really am struggling with this idea”, has also said to me “but I really want to read it.”  What I hear when this is said “I am willing to do the hard stuff… I want to walk the path towards compassion.”  That’s a good thing.  This is a wonderful example of what Christian faith looks like.  Pushing our boundaries, experiencing ideas that may make us uncomfortable and trusting that we will somehow experience God along the way.

And so let us abandon the idea that religion is simply a set of beliefs someone has.  Instead let us see it as a journey.  Christianity is the path we tread, it is the climb up the mountain, it is the pilgrimage we take throughout our whole lives.  One of the earliest names for Christians was “People of the Way”.  It wasn’t “People who believe certain things”.  It was people of the Way.  And as we find out in our Gospel reading, for Christians, that Way, that holy journey, that walk up the mountain, is called Jesus, the Beloved of God, who God tells us to listen to.  God doesn’t say, “Believe this about Jesus”, God says “listen to him.”  Even when the bible uses the term “believe” a more accurate interpretation would be “trust”.  Listen to Jesus, trust in his way, follow him.  As Christians Jesus is our path of pilgrimage.

And it is hard.  It wouldn’t be true, it wouldn’t be relevant in the world, it wouldn’t be worth anything if it wasn’t.  Christianity is hard.  It is our long climb up the mountain.  And yet, it is through climbing the mountain that our eyes are changed to see the glory and wonder of the incarnate God.