Keeping Goodness Alive

Martin Richard 

Weeks ago, as I was planning out my preaching schedule for Seneca Presbyterian Church, I was attracted to the story of Tabitha in the 9^th chapter of Acts (Acts 9: 36-43). It comes from the Revised Common Lectionary for this Sunday. That lectionary focuses on stories from Acts on the Sundays between Easter and Pentecost. If you have never read this brief but fascinating story, I invite you to do so. It is delightful! 

          During that planning process, the sermon title came to me immediately: Keeping Goodness Alive. Back then, I had my mind on our stewardship campaign – which we do in the spring. The women in this story reminded me so much of the women of Seneca Presbyterian. We have wonderful seamstresses – and cooks. But most of all, we have a wonderfully compassionate congregation that cares deeply for one another and for the community. Keeping that “goodness” alive – that significant part of our church’s identity and soul – was what I had in mind then.

          That was before the world unraveled this week. As our lectionary study group gathered on Wednesday evening, we were still dealing with just the Boston Marathon tragedy. Its sorrow and shock were still real. We knew nothing of the remarkable events that would transpire on Friday.

In the shadow of that humanity, we talked about the humanity of this story. What were the women expecting when they summoned Peter in the wake of their dear friend’s death? Did they expect resurrection? They did not ask for it specifically, but did they hope Peter would take the hint? Did Peter expect resurrection when he knelt by the bed and prayed? Or was the Holy Spirit’s power to bring life unexpected for everyone? One in our group had a fascinating observation. He believed Peter was praying for guidance as to what he should do, not just for the power to do it.  

          We also struggled with the reality that we do not expect physical resurrections in our own day. I’m grateful that my people do not expect me to do what Peter did when they invite me into their lives at the time of death. But that leaves us with a difficult question: How does resurrection happen today? How do we keep goodness alive?

          I had in mind the image of Martin Richard, the eight year old victim of Monday’s bombings. His plea - “No more hurting people” – dominated the stories of earlier in the week. Now we have images of police officers and FBI agents going door to door in a persistent quest to bring safety back to a quiet neighborhood in an amazing city. So where does the power for goodness live in our world? We will explore that question as we gather for worship at Seneca Pres this Sunday. We would love to have you join us! 

On the Road Again

There is an amazing degree of similarity between the story of last week – the journey to Emmaus – and the story for this week – the journey of an Ethiopian eunuch. The similarity is so striking that it prompted me to title the sermon I am working on for this Sunday at Seneca Presbyterian Church: “On the Road Again.” Each story involves a physical journey. Each involves a stranger who interprets scripture for travelers who are seeking to understand. In each, the stranger mysteriously disappears at the conclusion of his work. One ends with the sacrament of communion, the other with the sacrament of baptism – the two universally shared sacraments for all expressions of the Christian faith. In case you’re wondering, it’s not a coincidence.

          Luke is the only Gospel writer to give us part two of the story. His book of Acts tells us how the gospel message spread from Jerusalem to Rome and from the Jewish to the Gentile world. It’s primarily about the Apostle Paul, but it doesn’t start there. It starts with stories of the apostles and the first disciples. Jesus had promised the disciples that when they received power from the Holy Spirit, they would do everything they had seen him do, and even more. The Spirit is the abiding and empowering presence of the risen Christ living among those who follow him. In the story of Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch, we see a realization of that promise. Philip steps in the role of Jesus as the interpreter of scripture, the one who enables faith, and the one who seals that faith sacramentally as he baptizes his Ethiopian friend.

          But such a gospel parallel is not the only amazing facet of this story. For me, that prize goes to the Ethiopian. He has just undertaken an arduous journey from Ethiopia to Jerusalem in order to worship in the Temple. But curiously, as a eunuch he would have been forbidden to enter the Temple. That reality is probably why he asked Philip, “What is to prevent me from being baptized?” This aspect of the story fascinates me. Why would you feel compelled to move toward a faith that considers you a second class citizen? Can it simply be the power of the Holy Spirit pulling us all toward new challenges and deeper understandings?

          Those questions cause me to ponder others:

• Have you ever felt excluded and unworthy to enter God’s holy house? What kept you away?
• Do you know of others who have experienced that same exclusion? What kept them away?
• Did anything overcome the barrier?
• Could it have been the hand of the Holy Spirit directing the action?

 I welcome your reflections.

The Third Traveler

Beyond believing God can bring utter, unexpected hope even in the face of the world’s deepest darkness – literally life out of death, the most remarkable aspect of the Easter story for me is how very honest it is about doubt. When confronted with an empty tomb and reports of encounters with the risen Christ, no one believed. They all needed physical proof; they needed to see and touch and talk with Jesus. They needed personal knowledge of the risen Christ.

That fact raises an alarming question that was on the minds of the faithful Bible seekers at Seneca Presbyterian Church when we gathered this week. One in our midst, an attorney by profession, reminded us that a witness in order to be credible has to have personal knowledge of an event. Hearsay evidence – even reliable hearsay – is not sufficient. So how can we, who live 2000 years removed from that first Easter, come to faith? Who can be our “witness” or must we rely on the hearsay evidence of the Church passed on from generation to generation to generation for 2000 years? Granted, that hearsay evidence is substantial. A lot of people have believed, and their testimony is strong. But is it sufficient to inspire faith in others?  

          It is a question that must have been on the minds and hearts of the gospel writers, too. Their gospels were not finally written down until late in the first century, years after Jesus. It was during a time when the eye witnesses were dying. How could new generations come to faith? John simply commended those who did. In his story of “doubting” Thomas, Jesus says: “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen, yet have come to believe”. But Luke goes one step further. Luke gives us the amazing story of Emmaus.

          There are some Bible stories that have to be heard every year. Certainly Luke’s Christmas story with its angels and shepherds is one of them. The story of women encountering an empty tomb is another. For me, the story of two disciples journeying away from Jerusalem on the first Easter day is another “must tell” story. That’s because it’s a story for us.

          It’s a story that says the living, real presence of the risen Christ can come to us even when we don’t see him; even when our sorrow and doubt cloud the physical seeing of our eyes and the spiritual seeing of our hearts. It’s a story that says the risen Christ will linger with us until we do see. He will be our companion on the journey, teaching us along the way. Then he will give us an unmistakable sign, and when we see it, our eyes will be opened, and everything will make sense. Everything will be new.

          We’ll examine just how all that happens when we gather for worship on the Sunday after Easter at Seneca Prez. If you don’t know this story, you can find it in Luke 24:13-35. There you will see what Christians have been doing ever since that first Easter – in order to create more “witnesses” for every generation that followed. We have gathered to study the scriptures, trusting in the presence of the Spirit to guide us. And we have gathered for worship – for the “breaking of the bread” – trusting it is there we meet the risen Christ. Even today.