John 20:1-18 April 12, 2009
RESURRECTION SUNDAY
“The Gift of Deliberate Love”
Rev. Meagan M. Boozer
Have you ever done something for someone else that you didn’t really want to do, but you did it anyway because you knew that NOT doing it would be selfish and unloving?
I ask the question that way because often if we do something we don’t really feel all that excited about, we don’t feel like we’re doing it out of love, but out of obligation. We know we should, and so we do.
But in these last weeks of Lent, we have learned that love, real love as shown to us by Jesus himself, is about commitment, it is about discipline, it is about following through. Real, biblical, Christ-empowered love does lay a sense of obligation on us that should trump our feelings of what we want to do or don’t want to do. Without love, Jesus would not have gone to the cross for us. You’ve heard it said that it wasn’t the nails that held Jesus on that cross – it was love. Deliberate love. In the Garden of Gethsemane in the hour before he was handed over to the Roman soldiers, Jesus prayed, “Father, if it is possible, take this cup from me.” (In other words, “I don’t want to do this.”) But then he continued, “But not my will, but your will be done.” Deliberate love.
Weeks before his crucifixion, Jesus deliberately set his face towards Jerusalem. Until then, there didn’t seem to be a particular destination for his ministry, only a particular purpose of bringing glory to God by teaching, preaching, healing, and casting out demons. It’s like, if a family decides to travel cross-country over the summer, they set out to visit here and there, stopping whenever, with the purposes of being together, enjoying the scenery, and learning the country. But let’s imagine that all of sudden, they realize it’s already July, and they haven’t even made it to California yet. There comes a moment when this family became more deliberate about getting to their destination. This is what appears to have happened with Jesus and his ministry (not that all of a sudden he realized that time was getting away from him), but there came a moment when he deliberately set his face towards Jerusalem.
Jesus deliberately rode into the city amidst the palm waving and shouts of ‘hosanna’ even though he knew it meant he was handing himself over to those who would torture and kill him. He deliberately sat at the table with Judas, even though he knew Judas had already betrayed him for a mere 30 pieces of silver. Once arrested and on trial, he deliberately spoke not a word in the face of false testimony against him; he deliberately chose not to use the power within him to completely humiliate and destroy his enemies.
Deliberate love. Not comfortable love. Not, “I’ll do it my way” love. Not, “when I feel like it,” love. Deliberate. Mature. Long-suffering. Joy-seeking. Other-focused. Peace-infused. Deliberate freedom-bringing love.
Jesus deliberately hung on the cross until the weight of every last sin had made its way onto his sagging shoulders. He deliberately made sure his mother would be cared for – he deliberately announced the gift of eternal freedom for the one thief on the cross beside him – and he deliberately said, “It is finished,” as he deliberately gave up his spirit. All for love. In 1 John 4, we read this, “This is how God showed his love for us: God sent his only Son into the world so we might live through him. 10This is the kind of love we are talking about—not that we once upon a time loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as a sacrifice to clear away our sins and the damage they’ve done to our relationship with God.” Deliberate love.
And how about this? Do you think it was just coincidental and perhaps just an interesting fact for trivia’s sake, that the cloth that had wrapped Jesus’ body, was lying separately in the empty tomb from the cloth that was wrapped around his head? I’ve read recently that the fact that the head cloth was off to the side, and perhaps even folded up could be interpreted as a sign that Jesus would be coming back. This story is based on a Jewish custom that if one was eating at the table and had to leave the table, there was one of two ways to leave your napkin. If you just threw your napkin down on the table in a heap, it meant you were not coming back to the table and the servants could go ahead and clean up after you. However, if your napkin was neatly left on the table, it meant “don’t clean up my plate yet, I’m coming back to the table.” On Maundy Thursday we read the Scripture that told us what Jesus said to his disciples in the Upper Room as they prepared to share the bread and the wine. He said, “I have looked forward to this hour with deep longing, anxious to eat this Passover meal with you before my suffering begins. For I tell you now that I won’t eat it again until it comes to fulfillment in the Kingdom of God.” When I hear that, combined with the detail of the folded or rolled facecloth in the empty tomb, combined with the Jewish custom of leaving a napkin neatly on the table, it seems like a deliberate action on Jesus’ part to let us know he is coming back to feast with us someday. Cool, huh? But there’s one problem: there is no such Jewish custom, at least I could not find any record of it. This story floating around out there is most likely nothing but that – a story (probably created with good intentions) meant to give meaning to a mysterious, yet obviously deliberate fact.
So, why would it be written in Holy Scripture that the head cloth was lying separately from the body covering, and that it was folded, or rolled, not tossed?
Was there ever a moment in Jesus’ ministry, that you felt like Jesus was a superhero like Superman or a Power Ranger?
“I am Jesus Messiah!
Name above ALL names!
Blessed Redeemer!
Immanuel!
I am the Rescuer for sinners!
The Ransom from Heaven!
Jesus Messiah!
LORD OF ALL!”
Can you think of a moment you’ve read about in the Bible where Jesus comes across like that?
When he calmed the storm? Was that a Charlton Heston or Indiana Jones moment for Jesus with music swelling in the background?
Maybe when he cast out the demons from that fellow who was living in the caves like an animal? “Come out because I said so!”
Maybe when he challenged those without sin to throw the first stone towards that woman caught in adultery? “I dare you to throw even one stone.”
Maybe when he turned over the tables in the temple? That got pretty close to a superhero moment, maybe. Man, he was mad that God’s house had been turned into a place to make a profit off of people’s sense of obligation to God.
When we think back over what we’ve read, what we’ve heard of Jesus from the Bible, I’m guessing that the image that comes to mind is not the image of a super hero who would throw his cape around and burst forth from three days of doing battle in the depths of darkness with a shout of victory. “Ah Ha! Foiled again, Satan!”
No! The images that come are images that go with Matthew’s words in his Gospel: 11:25, “Come to me, all who are weary and carrying heavy burdens. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart. And you will find rest for your souls.”
Gentle. Humble in heart: two characteristics that take incredible strength to live out in daily life – two characteristics of a love that is deliberate and life-giving.
When Jesus’ eyes opened in that tomb, it wasn’t dark in there, because he is the Light of the world. He might have jumped up in excitement of seeing his beloved followers again – in anticipation of seeing their faces when they realized he had risen, he had overcome, he had accomplished what no one else could! He might have jumped up, like we do when we’re kids and we remember it’s Christmas! He might have done a little Richard Simmons routine to loosen up his muscles! He might have sung a little song to see what it sounded like against the stone walls of the tomb. “This little light of mine, I’m going to let it shine! Won’t let Satan, (blow) it out! I’m going let it shine!” He might have. We don’t know!
I bet he was excited! But in his love-inspired excitement, we can know that he was still gentle and humble in heart. In his anticipation, he was thinking beyond the moment he was in - still carefully, deliberately creating the immediate and the eternal message of what would be revealed in that tomb that first Easter morning. In his new, glorified body – free from pain and suffering, he was deliberate in his love for you and me. For if it was true that his body had been stolen (as was feared and claimed in those days and still in these days), the grave clothes would not have been left behind. (What were they going to do, unwrap him before stealing his body?) Even if the covering had fallen off (which the cloth would not have done because it would have been wrapped carefully and firmly), the fact that the head cloth was lying off on its own speaks to an intentional, deliberate love-inspired action. He wanted to send us a clear message:
This tomb was not a place of sly or hasty thievery. This tomb became a place where fresh, cool water began to flow from somewhere deep within the core of all creation. This tomb, with its signs of deliberate release from all that binds us in our bodies and in our minds, was given to us as a symbol of the freedom Jesus died to give us.
It is not the tomb we worship. It is not the grave clothes we seek to discover and analyze as some do with the Shroud of Turin. It is not resurrection hope we worship. We worship Jesus Messiah! The one who said (John 7), “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink.” The one who proclaims in Revelation 22, “And let everyone who is thirsty come. Let anyone who wishes take the water of life as a gift.”
Jesus does not force his way into your life and mine. He comes gently. Humbly. Persistently. Deliberately. He stands at the door of our hearts, and he knocks. The One who destroyed the power of death by dying a criminal’s death, stands and waits for you to open your heart to his irresistible grace. This is love: not that we love him – but that he loves us.
Oh, how I love Jesus. Oh, how he wants to gently, humbly, persistently, and deliberately work within us to make us more the people of God that we were created to be. Oh, how I love him when I see a little victory in your life and mine. Oh, how I love his body, the Church. And oh, don’t we love to live our lives knowing that one day, we’re going to live in a place called Heaven with all of the Redeemed who have already walked the holy highway right through the gates into the sparkling city of God. Jesus destroyed the finality of bedside goodbyes, and he took the sting out of the fear we have of death. He did it as a gift of deliberate love – a gift that is ours forever once we receive it. If you are here, and you do not have that confidence of life eternal, and you’re ready to open the door of your heart to Jesus, I invite you to join me in a prayer to the God of our salvation:
Holy God, you are awesome in this place. You are wonderful. You are irresistible, and I must open my heart to you. I can no longer hold you back. Welcome to my life. I know you died for me. I know you rose from the dead for me. I know you love me. Fill me with your Holy Spirit, and help me to be deliberate and gentle in my love for you and for others. In my weakness, be strong in me. In my strengths, help me be humble in heart. Thank you for helping me find rest for my soul. This I pray in Jesus’ name, Amen.
RESURRECTION SUNDAY
“The Gift of Deliberate Love”
Rev. Meagan M. Boozer
Have you ever done something for someone else that you didn’t really want to do, but you did it anyway because you knew that NOT doing it would be selfish and unloving?
I ask the question that way because often if we do something we don’t really feel all that excited about, we don’t feel like we’re doing it out of love, but out of obligation. We know we should, and so we do.
But in these last weeks of Lent, we have learned that love, real love as shown to us by Jesus himself, is about commitment, it is about discipline, it is about following through. Real, biblical, Christ-empowered love does lay a sense of obligation on us that should trump our feelings of what we want to do or don’t want to do. Without love, Jesus would not have gone to the cross for us. You’ve heard it said that it wasn’t the nails that held Jesus on that cross – it was love. Deliberate love. In the Garden of Gethsemane in the hour before he was handed over to the Roman soldiers, Jesus prayed, “Father, if it is possible, take this cup from me.” (In other words, “I don’t want to do this.”) But then he continued, “But not my will, but your will be done.” Deliberate love.
Weeks before his crucifixion, Jesus deliberately set his face towards Jerusalem. Until then, there didn’t seem to be a particular destination for his ministry, only a particular purpose of bringing glory to God by teaching, preaching, healing, and casting out demons. It’s like, if a family decides to travel cross-country over the summer, they set out to visit here and there, stopping whenever, with the purposes of being together, enjoying the scenery, and learning the country. But let’s imagine that all of sudden, they realize it’s already July, and they haven’t even made it to California yet. There comes a moment when this family became more deliberate about getting to their destination. This is what appears to have happened with Jesus and his ministry (not that all of a sudden he realized that time was getting away from him), but there came a moment when he deliberately set his face towards Jerusalem.
Jesus deliberately rode into the city amidst the palm waving and shouts of ‘hosanna’ even though he knew it meant he was handing himself over to those who would torture and kill him. He deliberately sat at the table with Judas, even though he knew Judas had already betrayed him for a mere 30 pieces of silver. Once arrested and on trial, he deliberately spoke not a word in the face of false testimony against him; he deliberately chose not to use the power within him to completely humiliate and destroy his enemies.
Deliberate love. Not comfortable love. Not, “I’ll do it my way” love. Not, “when I feel like it,” love. Deliberate. Mature. Long-suffering. Joy-seeking. Other-focused. Peace-infused. Deliberate freedom-bringing love.
Jesus deliberately hung on the cross until the weight of every last sin had made its way onto his sagging shoulders. He deliberately made sure his mother would be cared for – he deliberately announced the gift of eternal freedom for the one thief on the cross beside him – and he deliberately said, “It is finished,” as he deliberately gave up his spirit. All for love. In 1 John 4, we read this, “This is how God showed his love for us: God sent his only Son into the world so we might live through him. 10This is the kind of love we are talking about—not that we once upon a time loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as a sacrifice to clear away our sins and the damage they’ve done to our relationship with God.” Deliberate love.
And how about this? Do you think it was just coincidental and perhaps just an interesting fact for trivia’s sake, that the cloth that had wrapped Jesus’ body, was lying separately in the empty tomb from the cloth that was wrapped around his head? I’ve read recently that the fact that the head cloth was off to the side, and perhaps even folded up could be interpreted as a sign that Jesus would be coming back. This story is based on a Jewish custom that if one was eating at the table and had to leave the table, there was one of two ways to leave your napkin. If you just threw your napkin down on the table in a heap, it meant you were not coming back to the table and the servants could go ahead and clean up after you. However, if your napkin was neatly left on the table, it meant “don’t clean up my plate yet, I’m coming back to the table.” On Maundy Thursday we read the Scripture that told us what Jesus said to his disciples in the Upper Room as they prepared to share the bread and the wine. He said, “I have looked forward to this hour with deep longing, anxious to eat this Passover meal with you before my suffering begins. For I tell you now that I won’t eat it again until it comes to fulfillment in the Kingdom of God.” When I hear that, combined with the detail of the folded or rolled facecloth in the empty tomb, combined with the Jewish custom of leaving a napkin neatly on the table, it seems like a deliberate action on Jesus’ part to let us know he is coming back to feast with us someday. Cool, huh? But there’s one problem: there is no such Jewish custom, at least I could not find any record of it. This story floating around out there is most likely nothing but that – a story (probably created with good intentions) meant to give meaning to a mysterious, yet obviously deliberate fact.
So, why would it be written in Holy Scripture that the head cloth was lying separately from the body covering, and that it was folded, or rolled, not tossed?
Was there ever a moment in Jesus’ ministry, that you felt like Jesus was a superhero like Superman or a Power Ranger?
“I am Jesus Messiah!
Name above ALL names!
Blessed Redeemer!
Immanuel!
I am the Rescuer for sinners!
The Ransom from Heaven!
Jesus Messiah!
LORD OF ALL!”
Can you think of a moment you’ve read about in the Bible where Jesus comes across like that?
When he calmed the storm? Was that a Charlton Heston or Indiana Jones moment for Jesus with music swelling in the background?
Maybe when he cast out the demons from that fellow who was living in the caves like an animal? “Come out because I said so!”
Maybe when he challenged those without sin to throw the first stone towards that woman caught in adultery? “I dare you to throw even one stone.”
Maybe when he turned over the tables in the temple? That got pretty close to a superhero moment, maybe. Man, he was mad that God’s house had been turned into a place to make a profit off of people’s sense of obligation to God.
When we think back over what we’ve read, what we’ve heard of Jesus from the Bible, I’m guessing that the image that comes to mind is not the image of a super hero who would throw his cape around and burst forth from three days of doing battle in the depths of darkness with a shout of victory. “Ah Ha! Foiled again, Satan!”
No! The images that come are images that go with Matthew’s words in his Gospel: 11:25, “Come to me, all who are weary and carrying heavy burdens. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart. And you will find rest for your souls.”
Gentle. Humble in heart: two characteristics that take incredible strength to live out in daily life – two characteristics of a love that is deliberate and life-giving.
When Jesus’ eyes opened in that tomb, it wasn’t dark in there, because he is the Light of the world. He might have jumped up in excitement of seeing his beloved followers again – in anticipation of seeing their faces when they realized he had risen, he had overcome, he had accomplished what no one else could! He might have jumped up, like we do when we’re kids and we remember it’s Christmas! He might have done a little Richard Simmons routine to loosen up his muscles! He might have sung a little song to see what it sounded like against the stone walls of the tomb. “This little light of mine, I’m going to let it shine! Won’t let Satan, (blow) it out! I’m going let it shine!” He might have. We don’t know!
I bet he was excited! But in his love-inspired excitement, we can know that he was still gentle and humble in heart. In his anticipation, he was thinking beyond the moment he was in - still carefully, deliberately creating the immediate and the eternal message of what would be revealed in that tomb that first Easter morning. In his new, glorified body – free from pain and suffering, he was deliberate in his love for you and me. For if it was true that his body had been stolen (as was feared and claimed in those days and still in these days), the grave clothes would not have been left behind. (What were they going to do, unwrap him before stealing his body?) Even if the covering had fallen off (which the cloth would not have done because it would have been wrapped carefully and firmly), the fact that the head cloth was lying off on its own speaks to an intentional, deliberate love-inspired action. He wanted to send us a clear message:
This tomb was not a place of sly or hasty thievery. This tomb became a place where fresh, cool water began to flow from somewhere deep within the core of all creation. This tomb, with its signs of deliberate release from all that binds us in our bodies and in our minds, was given to us as a symbol of the freedom Jesus died to give us.
It is not the tomb we worship. It is not the grave clothes we seek to discover and analyze as some do with the Shroud of Turin. It is not resurrection hope we worship. We worship Jesus Messiah! The one who said (John 7), “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink.” The one who proclaims in Revelation 22, “And let everyone who is thirsty come. Let anyone who wishes take the water of life as a gift.”
Jesus does not force his way into your life and mine. He comes gently. Humbly. Persistently. Deliberately. He stands at the door of our hearts, and he knocks. The One who destroyed the power of death by dying a criminal’s death, stands and waits for you to open your heart to his irresistible grace. This is love: not that we love him – but that he loves us.
Oh, how I love Jesus. Oh, how he wants to gently, humbly, persistently, and deliberately work within us to make us more the people of God that we were created to be. Oh, how I love him when I see a little victory in your life and mine. Oh, how I love his body, the Church. And oh, don’t we love to live our lives knowing that one day, we’re going to live in a place called Heaven with all of the Redeemed who have already walked the holy highway right through the gates into the sparkling city of God. Jesus destroyed the finality of bedside goodbyes, and he took the sting out of the fear we have of death. He did it as a gift of deliberate love – a gift that is ours forever once we receive it. If you are here, and you do not have that confidence of life eternal, and you’re ready to open the door of your heart to Jesus, I invite you to join me in a prayer to the God of our salvation:
Holy God, you are awesome in this place. You are wonderful. You are irresistible, and I must open my heart to you. I can no longer hold you back. Welcome to my life. I know you died for me. I know you rose from the dead for me. I know you love me. Fill me with your Holy Spirit, and help me to be deliberate and gentle in my love for you and for others. In my weakness, be strong in me. In my strengths, help me be humble in heart. Thank you for helping me find rest for my soul. This I pray in Jesus’ name, Amen.
