Showing posts with label 2nd Sunday of Easter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2nd Sunday of Easter. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 6, 2021

The Lectionary Passages for Sunday, April 11, 2021 (2nd Sunday of Easter)

Below are NRSV translations of the lessons from Acts (Acts 4:32-35), Psalms (Psalm 133), the Letters (1 John 1:1 - 2:2), and the Gospels (John 20:19-31) Please make any comments concerning the passages you want. Together, let's discuss the Word of God.

Acts 4:32-35

Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common. With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all. There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. They laid it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need.

Psalm 133

How very good and pleasant it is when kindred live together in unity!

It is like the precious oil on the head, running down upon the beard, on the beard of Aaron, running down over the collar of his robes.

It is like the dew of Hermon, which falls on the mountains of Zion. For there the Lord ordained his blessing, life forevermore.

1 John 1:1 - 2:2

We declare to you what was from the beginning, what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life— this life was revealed, and we have seen it and testify to it, and declare to you the eternal life that was with the Father and was revealed to us— we declare to you what we have seen and heard so that you also may have fellowship with us; and truly our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ. We are writing these things so that our joy may be complete.

This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light and in him there is no darkness at all. If we say that we have fellowship with him while we are walking in darkness, we lie and do not do what is true; but if we walk in the light as he himself is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.

If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. If we say that we have not sinned, we make him a liar, and his word is not in us.

My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous; and he is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world.

John 20:19-31

When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” But Thomas (who was called the Twin), one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them, “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.”

A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.” Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not written in this book. But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.

Looking into the lectionary — 2nd Sunday of Easter

John 20:19-31 — April11, 2021
2nd Sunday of Easter
Over the last several years, I have been significantly influenced by the thought-provoking work of theologian Shelly Rambo whose study of trauma has challenged the traditional paradigm of redemption – one that moves from death to life without remainder. 
Or, put another way, the notion that salvation moves in a linear fashion from brokenness toward victory over death, evil and suffering, and glosses over the way the trauma of death continues, or “remains,” in the midst of life. In “Spirit and Trauma,” Rambo observes that traditional understandings of redemption advise people to “get over it” or to move on, but those who have suffered trauma find any such counsel unhelpful. For some, the reality of death continues to impinge on life, and there is no clean break with the trauma of the past. In other words, some people find it difficult to move directly from Good Friday to Easter. Some of us get stuck in Holy Saturday and are not sure what Easter means when wounds remain. How can we sing “Hallelujah” when wounds remain? 

Moreover, such questions about trauma coincide with a perennial quandary of the Christian faith: If salvation has been accomplished in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, why is there so little peace on earth? Why do we live in the grip of so much anger, evoked by conflicts that mar our family, work and communal environments, or by the interminable warfare that marks our era? Why do we find ourselves paralyzed by fears and chronic anxieties that deflate our sense of worth, making simple acts of compassion – of connection with others – enormously difficult? Why do such debilitating realities remain, even as we proclaim that Christ has been raised, that death has been defeated and that victory has been won?  

For me, Rambo’s deep theological reflection on trauma can help us address these questions. In her most recent book, “Resurrecting Wounds: Living in the Afterlife of Trauma,” she highlights a crucial feature of the lectionary text before us on the 2nd Sunday of Easter: the Gospel of John’s account of the risen Lord’s appearance to his disciples, in which the wounds of crucifixion are on full display. They are not erased by resurrection. Indeed, Jesus directs the disciples’ attention to the wounds: “He showed them his hands and side” (John 20:20; for further reflection on this text, see my recent editorial). In light of Jesus’ attention to wounds, Rambo reenvisions the meaning of resurrection by locating its power in confronting, attending to and mindfully transforming – rather than erasing – wounds.  

In our current context, wounds in need of attention are myriad. Think of the staggering number of people who have lost loved ones to a deadly pandemic and the grief engulfing them, compounded by the pain of separation and isolation. Moreover, the pandemic has exposed deep racial wounds in the fabric of our lives, as well as an ever-widening socioeconomic gap between the “haves” and the “have-nots.” Think also of the recurring trauma of mass shootings, often the result of racialized violence, that continues to terrorize our nation. Facing into such wounds is essential if we are to be an Easter people who engage, rather than ignore, the death-tending realities of our world and bear witness to resurrection life. 

Lately, I have been gleaning much wisdom about facing into wounds such as racism from Resmaa Menakem’s highly acclaimed book, “My Grandmother’s Hands: Racialized Trauma and the Pathway to Mending Our Hearts and Bodies.” Menakem helpfully distinguishes between dirty pain and clean pain. Dirty pain entails avoidance, blame and denial when confronted with realities such as racism. As Menakem observes, “When people respond from their most wounded parts, become cruel or violent, or physically or emotionally run away, they experience dirty pain.” Clean pain, by contrast, entails facing into trauma. With respect to addressing racism, clean pain enables our bodies to heal and find the means to address white-body supremacy. “Accepting clean pain,” Menakem contends, “will allow white Americans to confront their longtime collective disassociation and silence. It will enable African Americans to confront their internalization of defectiveness and self-hate. And it will help public safety professionals in many localities to confront the recent metamorphosis of their role from serving the community to serving as soldiers and prison guards.” 

Surely Christian communities, following Menakem’s counsel, can be places of resurrection where clean pain replaces the dirty pain of avoidance — places where these and other wounds are touched, attended to, released, liberated and redeemed. Places where anger, fear, agitation, grief and loss are acknowledged and addressed, where anger is transformed into compassion for those who are hurting and where energies are refocused to address injustice. Places where fear is transformed into interconnection that enables us to see that where one is wounded, are all wounded, and that injustice to one is injustice to all. Grief and loss can forge communities of care and compassion, tenderness and courage. In all of these respects, the church is a place of respite, not because we retreat there to ignore wounds, but because it is a place where a risen Lord directs our attention to them, and breathes his Spirit into us, empowering us for healing ministries in his name.

This week:

1.     Would you agree with the contention that far too often we skip from Good Friday to Easter, glossing over the way that death continues or remains in the midst of life? Why, or why not?

2.     Have you ever found yourself perplexed by the perennial quandary that if salvation has already occurred, why is there so little peace on earth? 

3.     In light of Jesus’ direction of his disciples’ attention to his wounds, what do you think of Rambo’s notion oflocating the power of resurrection in confronting, attending to and mindfully transforming – rather than erasing – wounds? 

4.     What would you identify as wounds in need of attention in your community? In our nation? In our world?

5.     What do you think about Menakem’s distinction between dirty pain and clean pain?

6.     How can churches be the place where wounds are touched, attended to, released, liberated and redeemed?

Christian educators make the bold claim that the Spirit calls us all to a life of learning and growing. So even as we look with hopeful anticipation to a time when we can gather together in person, what are some lessons we have learned thus far about faith formation in the midst of a pandemic?

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Speaking Peace in a
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First Presbyterian Church
Sweetwater, Texas
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