The Holy Vessel Is Empty
Sermon
Love Is Your Disguise
Second Lesson Sermons For Lent/Easter
It was the early 1400s and France was without a king. The one who could be king was such a spindly, weak-limbed, weak-willed presence that French and English soldiers, mercenaries, and criminals fought constantly for control of France. Into this power vacuum stepped a teenage girl who had heard (by her description) "a worthy voice" which she took to be a messenger from God, and saw a great light. "You must go to the aid of your king," the voice directed her. And so Joan of Arc went forth, determined and courageous. She led soldiers by the thousands and, though wounded, continued to pursue the interests of France and her king until Charles the VII was crowned.
On May 23, 1430, Joan of Arc was captured in battle, turned over to the English, and tried by a conspiratorial church for heresy because the voices, the church claimed, were the messengers of Satan. She was convicted and placed in the hands of secular authorities for execution. On May 30, 1431, Joan was burned at the stake -- holding fast to her claim, "Everything good I have done, I have done at the command of my voices." Joan of Arc, teenage peasant, woman warrior, servant of France, passed from this earth aged nineteen years.1
Palm Sunday is a time when we remember the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. Jesus riding on a colt, palm branches waving, garments carpeting his path, the kind of a welcome that was reserved for a hero king returning from a successful military campaign, or reserved for the enthronement of God's chosen king of Israel. So here is Jesus in the midst of great enthusiasm, "Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!" and because of the tumult, the scribes and the Pharisees are agitated. "Rebuke your disciples!" they say to Jesus. But Jesus responds, "If these were silent, the very stones would cry out" (Luke 19:38-40). And cry out they will, for within days these who are following him in joy and celebration will run away and will fall into hiding. For this Sunday is also called Passion Sunday, which initiates the week of Christ's Passion -- the time when we remember how he poured himself out for us to save us. Paul writes in Philippians, "Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross" (Philippians 2:5-8).
This entry into Jerusalem marks the setting into motion events which will bring to completion Christ's self-emptying.
And before we meet again for our weekly Sunday worship celebration, we will hear Christ say, "It is finished," which is to say, the Holy Vessel is empty.
For many, purposeful self-emptying has a sacred quality to it. Some suggest the self-emptying of Joan of Arc has such a quality, or of Gandhi, or Martin Luther King, Jr.
And it is because in most circumstances we seek to do exactly the opposite -- to be full rather than empty -- that the act of self-emptying has such power when embraced with intention and calm resolve.
Some things in our lives and in our world are not meant to be empty. Churches are to be filled with worshipers, schools with students, hospitals with patients, streets with travelers, parks with picnickers, concert halls with musicians. Or to think in another way -- growing fields are to be filled with crops.
And speaking anatomically, the circulatory system with something to circulate.
Refrigerator shelves are to be filled with food, the heart to be filled with love, and the community filled with hope. Some things are not meant to be empty. Great migrations of humankind have occurred because of emptiness. If the stomach is empty or is likely to be, by the hundreds of thousands people migrate in search of food.
It was the fear of empty stomachs that sent Elim-elech and his wife Naomi from Judah to Moab with their two sons. While in Moab the sons married Orpah and Ruth. After Elim-elech had passed from this earth, both sons also died, leaving Naomi with her daughters-in-law Orpah and Ruth.
After having heard that things had gotten better in Judah, Naomi started with her daughters-in-law for home, but then she told them, "Go, return each of you to your mother's house. And may the Lord deal kindly with you...."
Orpah left Naomi to return to her mother's home, but Ruth clung to Naomi saying, "Entreat me not to leave you or to return from following you; for where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge; your people shall be my people and your God my God; where you die I will die, and there I will be buried...."
And so the two returned to Judah, to Bethlehem, and the town was stirred because of them, saying, "Is this Naomi?"
"Do not call me Naomi," she said to them. "Call me Mara, for the Almighty has dealt bitterly with me. I went away full, and the Lord has brought me back empty" (Ruth 1, selected verses). Some things are not meant to be empty. Homes are not meant to be empty, hearts are meant to be filled with love, and the future, with promise. So, we pause in wonderment as Ruth proclaims her love for Naomi, risking her own security and pledging to remain with Naomi on this life journey. Purposeful self-emptying has a sacred quality to it. Some suggest that the self-emptying of Ruth has such a quality.
When Empty Is Good
Sometimes empty is good. A dock is empty because a ship has been launched, and a womb is empty when a babe has been born. A hotel room is empty and a traveler finds welcomed rest.
A loaf of bread is broken and shared; a cup is passed and is emptied. This empty is good.
Jesus was asked to come for supper to the home of a Pharisee, not surprisingly because though some of the Pharisees gave Jesus trouble not all of them did. Some Pharisees, like Nicodemus, were his friends. Now after Jesus had taken his place at the table, a woman of the city, a sinner, brought an alabaster flask of fine ointment, and weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears and wipe them with her hair. She kissed his feet and anointed them with the ointment.
Jesus' host, the Pharisee, said to himself, "If Jesus were truly a prophet, he would have known what sort of woman this is who is touching him."
And Jesus said to his host, "Simon, I have something to say to you."
"What is it, Teacher?" he asked.
And Jesus said, "A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they could not pay, he forgave them both. Now which of them will love him more?"
Simon answered, "The one, I suppose, to whom he forgave more." And Jesus said to him, "You have judged rightly."
Then turning toward the woman he continued, "Do you see this woman? I entered your house, you gave me no water for my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not ceased to kiss my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much...."
And Jesus said to her, "Your sins are forgiven" (Luke 7:36-48, author paraphrase).
Empty is good when an alabaster flask is broken to anoint the feet of the Savior. Empty is good when our reservoir of sin is poured out because by him our sins are forgiven.
And so Jesus, triumphant, enters Jerusalem and sets in motion events which bring to completion his self-emptying.
Jesus did not cling to his divine power but emptied himself and became as we are; he became more than we are. In a week's time he transforms from celebrated leader to bound prisoner. He is scourged, humiliated, and led to a cross where his self-emptying is made complete.
On this Palm Sunday, on this Passion Sunday, it would be well if we likewise embark upon a pathway which will lead to self-emptying, following the example of many who have come before, some of whom have lived in our midst and even in our homes. Break your alabaster flask and empty the ointment. Bring your storehouse of treasure, of human power and passion, release your over-confident self-reliance and your over-powering worry for tomorrow. Empty yourself, empty yourself, empty yourself, and when your holy vessel, when the vessel of your own God-given life is empty, as someone has written, you will be transformed from the need to control, from the desire always to have it your own way, from the need to be out front at the head of the procession, from the need to lead; you will be transformed in the joy of being led by God, by Christ, by the Spirit.2
"Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant ..." (Philippians 2:5-7).
And when your holy vessel is empty, you will be transformed in the joy of being lead by God, by Christ, by the Spirit. Father, into your hands we commend our emptiness, and we trust your hand will lead.
____________
1. Beth Randall, "Illuminating Lives: Joan of Arc," copyright 1996, www.mcs.drexel.edu/~gbrandal/Illum_html/Joan.html
2. Henri Nouwen, In the Name of Jesus (New York: The Crossroad Publishing Company, 1989), p. 61.
On May 23, 1430, Joan of Arc was captured in battle, turned over to the English, and tried by a conspiratorial church for heresy because the voices, the church claimed, were the messengers of Satan. She was convicted and placed in the hands of secular authorities for execution. On May 30, 1431, Joan was burned at the stake -- holding fast to her claim, "Everything good I have done, I have done at the command of my voices." Joan of Arc, teenage peasant, woman warrior, servant of France, passed from this earth aged nineteen years.1
Palm Sunday is a time when we remember the triumphal entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. Jesus riding on a colt, palm branches waving, garments carpeting his path, the kind of a welcome that was reserved for a hero king returning from a successful military campaign, or reserved for the enthronement of God's chosen king of Israel. So here is Jesus in the midst of great enthusiasm, "Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!" and because of the tumult, the scribes and the Pharisees are agitated. "Rebuke your disciples!" they say to Jesus. But Jesus responds, "If these were silent, the very stones would cry out" (Luke 19:38-40). And cry out they will, for within days these who are following him in joy and celebration will run away and will fall into hiding. For this Sunday is also called Passion Sunday, which initiates the week of Christ's Passion -- the time when we remember how he poured himself out for us to save us. Paul writes in Philippians, "Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross" (Philippians 2:5-8).
This entry into Jerusalem marks the setting into motion events which will bring to completion Christ's self-emptying.
And before we meet again for our weekly Sunday worship celebration, we will hear Christ say, "It is finished," which is to say, the Holy Vessel is empty.
For many, purposeful self-emptying has a sacred quality to it. Some suggest the self-emptying of Joan of Arc has such a quality, or of Gandhi, or Martin Luther King, Jr.
And it is because in most circumstances we seek to do exactly the opposite -- to be full rather than empty -- that the act of self-emptying has such power when embraced with intention and calm resolve.
Some things in our lives and in our world are not meant to be empty. Churches are to be filled with worshipers, schools with students, hospitals with patients, streets with travelers, parks with picnickers, concert halls with musicians. Or to think in another way -- growing fields are to be filled with crops.
And speaking anatomically, the circulatory system with something to circulate.
Refrigerator shelves are to be filled with food, the heart to be filled with love, and the community filled with hope. Some things are not meant to be empty. Great migrations of humankind have occurred because of emptiness. If the stomach is empty or is likely to be, by the hundreds of thousands people migrate in search of food.
It was the fear of empty stomachs that sent Elim-elech and his wife Naomi from Judah to Moab with their two sons. While in Moab the sons married Orpah and Ruth. After Elim-elech had passed from this earth, both sons also died, leaving Naomi with her daughters-in-law Orpah and Ruth.
After having heard that things had gotten better in Judah, Naomi started with her daughters-in-law for home, but then she told them, "Go, return each of you to your mother's house. And may the Lord deal kindly with you...."
Orpah left Naomi to return to her mother's home, but Ruth clung to Naomi saying, "Entreat me not to leave you or to return from following you; for where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge; your people shall be my people and your God my God; where you die I will die, and there I will be buried...."
And so the two returned to Judah, to Bethlehem, and the town was stirred because of them, saying, "Is this Naomi?"
"Do not call me Naomi," she said to them. "Call me Mara, for the Almighty has dealt bitterly with me. I went away full, and the Lord has brought me back empty" (Ruth 1, selected verses). Some things are not meant to be empty. Homes are not meant to be empty, hearts are meant to be filled with love, and the future, with promise. So, we pause in wonderment as Ruth proclaims her love for Naomi, risking her own security and pledging to remain with Naomi on this life journey. Purposeful self-emptying has a sacred quality to it. Some suggest that the self-emptying of Ruth has such a quality.
When Empty Is Good
Sometimes empty is good. A dock is empty because a ship has been launched, and a womb is empty when a babe has been born. A hotel room is empty and a traveler finds welcomed rest.
A loaf of bread is broken and shared; a cup is passed and is emptied. This empty is good.
Jesus was asked to come for supper to the home of a Pharisee, not surprisingly because though some of the Pharisees gave Jesus trouble not all of them did. Some Pharisees, like Nicodemus, were his friends. Now after Jesus had taken his place at the table, a woman of the city, a sinner, brought an alabaster flask of fine ointment, and weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears and wipe them with her hair. She kissed his feet and anointed them with the ointment.
Jesus' host, the Pharisee, said to himself, "If Jesus were truly a prophet, he would have known what sort of woman this is who is touching him."
And Jesus said to his host, "Simon, I have something to say to you."
"What is it, Teacher?" he asked.
And Jesus said, "A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they could not pay, he forgave them both. Now which of them will love him more?"
Simon answered, "The one, I suppose, to whom he forgave more." And Jesus said to him, "You have judged rightly."
Then turning toward the woman he continued, "Do you see this woman? I entered your house, you gave me no water for my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not ceased to kiss my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment. Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much...."
And Jesus said to her, "Your sins are forgiven" (Luke 7:36-48, author paraphrase).
Empty is good when an alabaster flask is broken to anoint the feet of the Savior. Empty is good when our reservoir of sin is poured out because by him our sins are forgiven.
And so Jesus, triumphant, enters Jerusalem and sets in motion events which bring to completion his self-emptying.
Jesus did not cling to his divine power but emptied himself and became as we are; he became more than we are. In a week's time he transforms from celebrated leader to bound prisoner. He is scourged, humiliated, and led to a cross where his self-emptying is made complete.
On this Palm Sunday, on this Passion Sunday, it would be well if we likewise embark upon a pathway which will lead to self-emptying, following the example of many who have come before, some of whom have lived in our midst and even in our homes. Break your alabaster flask and empty the ointment. Bring your storehouse of treasure, of human power and passion, release your over-confident self-reliance and your over-powering worry for tomorrow. Empty yourself, empty yourself, empty yourself, and when your holy vessel, when the vessel of your own God-given life is empty, as someone has written, you will be transformed from the need to control, from the desire always to have it your own way, from the need to be out front at the head of the procession, from the need to lead; you will be transformed in the joy of being led by God, by Christ, by the Spirit.2
"Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant ..." (Philippians 2:5-7).
And when your holy vessel is empty, you will be transformed in the joy of being lead by God, by Christ, by the Spirit. Father, into your hands we commend our emptiness, and we trust your hand will lead.
____________
1. Beth Randall, "Illuminating Lives: Joan of Arc," copyright 1996, www.mcs.drexel.edu/~gbrandal/Illum_html/Joan.html
2. Henri Nouwen, In the Name of Jesus (New York: The Crossroad Publishing Company, 1989), p. 61.
