5 Easter

 

May 7, 2023

 

Acts 7.55-60; John 14.1-14

 

+ One of my favorite words is "weird."

 

I like it because, well…I am.

 

I am weird.

 

Now, I see several of you nodding your heads in affirmation over that.

 

And so, mid-nod, I am going to caution you all on something.

 

Before you do so, comfortable in your own sense of normalcy, I will say this to you.

 

I hate to burst your bubble

(Actually, you know I LOVE bursting your bubble):

 

Normalcy is a myth.

 

It doesn’t exist.

 

There’s no such thing.

 

It’s just a fake social construct that people have built around themselves to make themselves feel…well… normal.

 

And safe.

 

But it’s all smoke and mirrors ultimately.

 

And trust me, normalcy will not comfort you much on cold nights when you’re all alone.

 

So, yes, I am weird.

But guess what? 

  

So are all of you.

 

So, embrace it!

 

And I like being weird.

 

I like being who and what I am.

 

I long ago embraced that word because I realize that "weird" in our society simply means "outside the norm."

 

And that's me to a T.

 

And it’s also you to a T.

 

And it’s also us, here at St. Stephen’s to a T.

 

For some, what we do here is "too much."

 

For others, "it's not enough."

 

To a few, it's just "weird."

 

But for us, I think, "weird" works for us.

 

And embracing it for all it's worth is a very liberating experience.

 

I am grateful for St. Stephen's for letting this weird priest do weird things that seem to bring new people in the door almost every Sunday.

 

Now, it shouldn't work.

 

This weird, liberal, High Church,  very Episcopal way of worship and ministry.

 

But you know? It does.

 

Why?  

 

Because that's how the Holy Spirit works.

 

The Holy Spirit works in oftentimes weird ways that just shouldn’t work. But somehow does.

 

There was a great opinion piece published in the New York Times a few years that was entitled.

Christianity Gets Weird

Modern life is ugly, brutal and barren. Maybe you should try a Latin Mass.

(I’m not suggesting the Latin Mass)

 

But, it’s one of the best pieces of writing about the contemporary Church I’ve read recently.

 

Actually, to be honest, there were a few things in the article I didn’t agree with.

 

But, for the most part, the article written by Tara Isabella Burton, the author of the piece, who is a member of the Episcopal Church of St. Ignatius of Antioch in Manhattan, (one of my dream churches), really nailed it on the head much of what we’ve been doing here for the last 15 years or so.

 

Here’s a bit from the article (mind you this was written during the pandemic, as a response to what churches were trying to do during the pandemic):

“More and more young Christians, disillusioned by the political binaries, economic uncertainties and spiritual emptiness that have come to define modern America, are finding solace in a decidedly anti-modern vision of faith. As the coronavirus and the subsequent lockdowns throw the failures of the current social order into stark relief, old forms of religiosity offer a glimpse of the transcendent beyond the present.

 “Many of us call ourselves ‘Weird Christians,’ albeit partly in jest. What we have in common is that we see a return to old-school forms of worship as a way of escaping from the crisis of modernity…”

 Now, for us, that doesn’t seem weird at all.

 But to others, this does seems weird.

  Mass twice a week? Incense? Bells? Vestments? Weird hats?

 Standing, sitting and kneeling?

 Simple elements like bread and wine conveying an actual visceral Presence of Christ to people?

 It sure seems weird, doesn’t it?

 But, as we have discovered, weirdness is not something to fight.

 Normalcy is a myth.

 Weirdness is not something to avoid. It is something to embrace.

 It something that can help not only define our faith, but deepen it as well.

 

After all, there is something weirdly liberating in being countercultural—even among other Christians.

 

And as someone who is inadvertently countercultural, I can tell you, being “weird” is not always easy.

 

It’s not easy being a weird +  asexual/celibate + vegan +  teetotaling + priest AND poet in our society.

 

Let me tell you!!

 

None of those things fit well in our society very well.

 

Everything in that statement which describes me runs counter to literally everything our society is and stands for.

 

I’m the poster child for Christian weirdness! And proudly so!

 

Put me on a poster! But first, let me get my biretta! (my hat!)

 

As I said, there is also something very liberating in being “weird.”

 

The expectations that so many people are slaves to are just not issues with us who are “weird.”

This weirdness affects every aspect of our faith, of our relationships, of our very lives.

 

And it affects how we look at other people of faith.

 

As you know, I consider myself to be somewhat an ecumenist.

 

An ecumenist is someone who tries to be ecumenical.

 

I have a deep respect for other religions.

 

Not just for the Episcopal Church or for Christianity.

 

I have a deep respect for Judaism and Islam and Buddhism and Hinduism and what have you.

 

Especially when it comes to Judaism (which holds a special place in my heart) and Islam, you have heard me proclaim from this pulpit many times that we are very much children  of the same God.

 

We all three believe in the same God, we are all three children of Abraham.

 

Now, you’d be amazed—or maybe not—about how controversial saying that can be in this world, especially when it comes to Islam.

 

We live in a society in which Islamophobia is at its height.

 

You don’t believe me?

 

Go to Walmart.

 

Watch how customers treat the Muslim women who work there.

 

I have.

 

And it’s disgusting.

 

It’s appalling.

 

Islamophobia is very real.

 

And any time we see it, we need to speak out against it.

 

So, where I ma going with all of this, you might ask.

 

Well, I am going here:

 

Our Gospel reading for today.

 

In it, we hear Jesus say something that is very difficult for us ecumenists.

 

We hear Jesus say this to Thomas,

 

“I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.

 

Wait!

 

What?

 

Well, how can I still be an ecumenist with Jesus saying that?

 

I mean, that seems clear, doesn’t it?

 

No comes to God except through Jesus.

 

Yeah, that’s pretty clear.

 

Or... is it?

 

Well, for centuries of Christians, those words of Jesus have been the basis for their view that only CHRISTIANS get to go to heaven.

 

And to take it one step further, we hear specifical denominations Christians say only members of their denomination get to go to heaven.

 

Many of us who come from a Roman Catholic upbringing remember hearing how “there is no salvation outside of the [Roman Catholic] Church.”

 

Jehovah’s Witnesses make clear that only Witnesses will inherit God’s Kingdom here on earth, and only a very select few will actually gain heaven.

 

But most Christians have been taught to some degree that only through Jesus do we get to go to heaven.

 

And everyone else.

 

Well, they’re lost.

 

Unbaptized babies, non-Christians, atheists, the non-religious.

 

Good luck!

 

You’re out.

 

Now, I am a Christian, who loves Jesus.

 

And for us as Christians, we DO see Jesus legitimately as the way to God.

 

For us he is the Way, the Truth and the Life.

 

But does that mean that Jews and Muslims and Hindus and agnostics and others are left out?

 

Well, let me answer it as simply as I can.

 

No.

 

That is not what it means.

 

Because here is a perfect example of the words of Jesus taken out of context.

 

We first must ask ourselves what that means to us when Jesus says he is the way the truth and the life.

 

What is the “Way” that Jesus is talking about?

 

What is this “truth” he claims he is?

 

And how is it life?  

 

And, I will add, to understand what Jesus is saying here, we need to think about EVERYTHING Jesus has said up to this point.

 

And if we were going to summarize what the message of Jesus is, what would it be?

 

What JESUS say it would be?

 

Two things.

 

Love God.

 

Love your neighbor as yourself.

 

That is the heart of the message of Jesus.

 

That is the heart of the Gospel.

 

So, for Jesus, he truly embodied those commandments of God.

 

He became a living Torah, so to speak.

 

He embodied those commandments.

 

And for him, what was the way?

 

It was loving God and loving others.

 

What is the way to God?

 

To love God and to love others.

 

What is the truth?

 

It is loving God and loving others.

 

And if we follow those commandments, if we truly strive to live out those commandments in our lives, what do we get.

 

We get life.

 

This is what Jesus is getting at when he tells Thomas he is the way, the truth and the life.

 

And if we may doubt that, let just hear what he says in the next sentence.

 

“You know me, you will know my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.”

 

Because Jesus embodies this Torah, this truth, these commandments, we find God uniquely present in only not what Jesus says, but in Jesus himself—Jesus, this Son of God, Jesus this Messiah.

 

The fact of that matter is that anyone who strives to the walk in the way of loving God and loving others,  will have true life.

 

No one can truly come to know God without doing so.

 

No one can truly know God if they do not love God.

 

And no one can truly love God without loving others.

 

That is what is so radical about Jesus’ message.

 

He lays it out.

 

It’s that simple. And also that complex.

 

All that of speaks loudly to us right here, right now.

 

Jesus makes clear that what he says is truth.

 

For us, truth is essential.

 

For us as Christians, truth is equivalent with life, is equivalent with moving forward along the way that is Jesus’s way.

 

And for us, lies and deceit and half-truths or “alternate truths” are not options for us.

 

For those of us who follow Jesus, who believe that what he said and did was truth, there are no alternate truths.

 

Yes, we’re all guilty of lies on occasion, or half-truths, or white lies.

 

But living without truth, living in lies, living in a reality we have created for ourselves—that is not an option for us as Christians.

 

And heeding others who lie or deceive or bear false witness is not an option for us either.

 

It’s simple sometimes.

 

There is truth, and anything that isn’t truth, isn’t true.

 

To gain Life—to gain that life that God wants from us—we must follow the Way, in Truth.

 

And it is essential to our relationship with God.

 

I know that is hard to grasp.

 

But it really is important for us to think about this, to struggle with this and to open our hearts and our minds regarding this.

 

So, let us truly hear what Jesus is saying to us.

 

Let us truly embrace his way as the way of truth and life.

 

And let us embrace ourselves in that journey—our weird selves struggling under the myth of normalcy.

 

This is what it means to live in truth.

 

This what it means to follow the way of Jesus.

 

And, in the end, if is truly life that we ultimately gain.

 

Amen.