The Body of Christ

I was unable to serve Communion Sunday due to a hip problem (now gone). The assistant pastor and our lay leader served.

This allowed me to sit and watch as people knelt (and stood) at the rail to receive the sacrament. And I was struck by the spiritual beauty of the congregation.

“This is truly the Body of Christ,” I thought.

We received a new member who lives in Idaho. He was in town for the big eclipse show on Monday.

Obviously, Chris will not be driving in each Sunday for worship. He watches online and sends his offering by mail.

He is one of our faithful people, part of our church family. Now an official long-distance member.

A woman, Barbara, visited on Good Friday. She came with a clutch of these little articles in her purse. She had waited for an evening service.

Family matters make it hard for her to come on Sundays. She watches our services and will be reading this.

She loves St. Matthew.

A couple told me after worship recently, “Without Friday’s Word and this church, I don’t think we would have a church right now.”

Someone who joined recently said, “I was looking for a church that preaches a loving God.”

The people of St. Matthew know they are in a church that stands for something.

In reading the Bible, we put Jesus first. He sets the agenda as we read the rest of the Bible.

Everyone at St. Matthew is smart enough to know that gay people are just people who happen to be gay. God doesn’t care.

Give us a visit.

I’d like to meet you.

Worship–11:00 a.m.

God Hears Us

Elaine had been a member of a church youth group I worked with. I had not heard from her in 18 years. Then I got her letter.

She said she felt “compelled” by God to share her experience with me. Here’s a brief excerpt.

I wanted a closer walk with God. I prayed every day for that. And one day, driving home from church, I demanded to know why I was unworthy to know Him better.

And God came, very literally, right into my car. I was suddenly viewing specific moments of my life replayed in my mind with every tiny detail.

God replayed all my prayers of recent weeks, word for word. I was hearing them and knowing them instantly.

Then I saw and felt this overwhelming light, the most amazing light I had ever seen—a mixture of amber and rose and gold.

And it was alive. I felt an awesome power and love.

God let Elaine know her prayers were heard.

All of them.

Elaine called—and God responded.

God is accessible.

God is forthcoming.

I have known this since my own prayer experience at fourteen. I prayed and received an audible reply.

I said to myself after my prayer, “Nobody heard me.” A voice replied clearly, “I heard you.”

No, prayer does not work this way most of the time. But these events tell us that all prayers are heard.

And God will always respond in some way.

These events also tell us that God is real, God is personal, and God cares about us.

How often have I said this to you? God is an experienced reality.

A recommendation:

Worship somewhere this Sunday. For the joy of it.

Two Momentous Days

Good Friday and Easter.

Today is Good Friday—for those reading Friday’s Word on Friday. And this Sunday is Easter.

Two momentous days.

One no more important than the other.

On Friday evening, our great choir will sing, Without His Cross, there Is No Crown.

Without Good Friday, there is no Easter.

The “prop” for the Good Friday service tonight is a life-sized image of the burial shroud of Jesus.

The “Shroud of Turin,” as it is called.

(The radio-carbon dating was wrong. Two more recent dating tests are right. It comes from the time of Jesus.)

The Shroud image will be referenced as we follow the story of Jesus’ last hours from John’s gospel.

John’s gospel carries the close-to-first-hand account provided by “the beloved disciple.”

It is powerful.

Standing at the foot of the cross were four Marys: Jesus’ mother, Mary the wife of Clopas. And Mary Magdalene.

Jesus’ aunt, his mother’s sister, was also there.

And “the beloved disciple.”

That is the only way he is named in the Gospel of John. I do not believe he was John. He was not one of the twelve. We do not know his name. But his witness takes us close to both the death and the resurrection of
Jesus.

I turn to that witness again on Easter Sunday morning.

Please consider this your personal invitation to both of these services.

Tonight, we have a light supper at 6:30 before worship. The service starts at 7:00.

On Sunday the kids hunt Easter eggs at 10:00.

Easter worship starts at 11:00. Let us, too, gather at the foot of the cross.

Can We Be Certain?

Jeffrey Long, a radiation oncologist, was fascinated by near-death experiences.

And for 30 years he has studied them as a scientist and a doctor. He has also written extensively about them. He now says he is certain there is life after death.

Being “certain” about life after death may seem strange to you. But you can also be certain.

All you have to do is what Dr. Long has done:

Look at the evidence.

I once heard a teacher at Perkins, our Methodist seminary at SMU, deride certainty—and people who claimed to be certain.

He said, “The opposite of faith is not doubt, it is certainty.”

He would define faith as trusting things we can’t be certain about. Trusting things that may turn out to be wrong.

That means he teaches future ministers of the Gospel things that he feels are only possibly true.

But they may be wrong.

In other words, faith is a guessing game.

I don’t believe that.

I’m with Jeffrey Long.

If you look at the evidence long enough, you can come to conclusions.

You can reach certainty.

I am certain about the Resurrection.

I have found that, when God does a work among us, God will always give us sufficient evidence to believe it.

The evidence for the Resurrection is more than sufficient.

When I stand in the pulpit on Easter Sunday morning, I will tell a story I know to be true.

Join us.

But remember—the only way to Easter is through the Cross. Good Friday worship is at 7:00 p.m.

A week away.

Easter is 11:00 a.m.

Come. Behold what God has done for love of us.

A Misconception

The late John Shelby Spong, Episcopal Bishop, was a skeptic. He asked of the Resurrection:

Do bodies dead for 36 hours resuscitate and walk out of graves?

Do these revived bodies have working vocal cords allowing them to speak? Do they have a functioning skeletal system so that they can walk?

And how can such a body walk through walls with locked doors and barred windows?

Clearly, Bishop Spong thought the Christian claim for Resurrection meant a resuscitated corpse. And he did not believe in that.

I don’t either.

But Bishop Spong had no other concept. And I suspect many (or most) Christians share the same misconception.

A resuscitated corpse would simply put Jesus right back in the world.

Flesh and blood again—someday to die again.

Is this what you believe?

Have you ever really thought about it?

This is where the image on the Shroud of Turin becomes a vital witness.

For those who are willing to think about what they believe, the image on the Shroud presents a powerful picture.

The Shroud image records a physical event that left physical forensic evidence.

Jesus did not resuscitate. His body transformed.

It dematerialized in a quantum physics event.

It returned to the spiritual state from which it had come.

The cloth fell through the body, recording x-ray-like images of the bones in the hands and the sockets for the teeth.

A life-sized replica of the Shroud will feature in our Good Friday service two weeks from today.

Light supper at 6:15.

Worship at 7:00.