At the center of the gospel lesson today –

            near the center of the whole gospel story –

            are the words: “Take up your cross and follow me”

This sentence gets right at the heart of the matter for those of us who would call ourselves Christians – followers of Christ.

Take up your cross – an instrument of suffering and death – and follow me.

It’s not a very tempting offer.

It might not be the banner we want on our website:

            “Come to St Michael’s – and take up your cross.”

Or is it?

Just what does it mean to take up a cross and follow this Jesus,

this one who’s love for us took him all the way to death on a cross –

beyond, to a new resurrection life.

Let’s go back to the story,

            back before today’s lesson to what we heard last week.

As Jesus is walking with his disciples, he asks them,

            “Who do you say that I am?”

Peter answers, “You are the Messiah”

In that phrase are so many hopes and expectations.

            The messiah who will save us from Rome, as God once saved the Hebrews from Egypt.

            The messiah who will rule us as King David once ruled us.

            The messiah who will make all our dreams come true.

And for a moment, that hope is fulfilled.

You are right! Jesus says.

I am the Messiah!

And you will be the foundation of my church – a model for all who will follow me –

            a starting point for generations to come.

Then, the story continues, and it all changes.

Jesus begins to tell them what it means for him to be the messiah

Not what they have hoped.

He tells them he will be opposed by the religious leaders.

He tells them he will be arrested, and killed, and on the third day rise again.

God has a new plan for salvation –

            a plan to meet violence with love

            to meet condemnation with forgiveness

            to meet death with resurrection.

God has not come to enter into the dog-eat-dog, might makes right ways of the world.

God has come to turn that world around,

            to change everything.

God has taken on flesh to show us a new way to live –

and his life will lead him through suffering and death to hope and resurrection.

Jesus tries to tell his disciples what this means.

But it is hard to hear.

Hard to have one’s hopes dashed and replaced by a whole new paradigm.

Then Jesus goes a step further.

He invites the disciples into this new paradigm.

Take up your cross and follow me, he says.

I am going into opposition and death – and I want to take you with me.

What?

What does that mean?

What would that even look like?

It is more than one sermon to uncover what it means to “take up a cross.”

It is at the heart of what we do here, together, in worship and in formation and prayer –

            discerning what it means for each of us to take up a cross and follow Jesus.

Discovering together what it means to live a cross-shaped life.

But in his letter to the Romans – in all his letters – Paul offers us some ideas.

The topic sentence of this section of the letter –

what we read last week at the beginning of chaper 12 – is ,

Offer your bodies as a living sacrifice in worship to God.

Then Paul goes on to tell them what that living sacrifice –

that cross-shaped life, lived in the Spirit of Christ – looks like.

Let love be genuine.

Hate what is evil.

Respect and encourage one another.

Rejoice in hope.

Be patient in suffering.

Pray.

Offer hospitality to strangers.

Bless those who persecute you.

Be at peace with everyone.

Care for your enemies.

And that last line – the key to all – “overcome evil with good.”

That is the new paradigm.

Meet evil – pettiness, animosity, jealously, anger, fearfulness – not with more of the same,

            but with love and peace and prayer.

This it is not easy.

This cross-shaped life is something we have to choose over and over again, every day.

Every time someone pushes our buttons.

Every time someone cheats us or hurts us.

Every time we see someone suffering and are tempted to look away.

David Lose, the preacher and blogger I quote to you often, says it this way,

Faith is a full contact, participation sport. You can’t just sit back and expect to really know God, you have to get up off the couch and get in the game

So, is anyone but me wondering how this invitation to take up a cross is good news?

So far we’ve looked at Paul, who manages to pack 23 imperatives into a few sentences of his letter.

I’m reminded of my 13-year-old son, who says to me often these days,

            “Mom, you’re so bossy,” because I’m telling him to do his homework,

            or brush his teeth, or eat something beside Ramen noodles.

But I tell him – I have to remind you to do these things that you already know you need to do.

And maybe that’s what Paul is up to here.

Reminding us of what we know, deep down –

            that peace and love and welcoming the stranger are the best way,

            and worth the extra effort and challenge.

We also know what Paul knows, that Jesus’s challenging invitation comes with a promise.

Those who give up their lives for my sake, Jesus says, will gain life.

            New life.

Paul calls it life in the Spirit.

Some have called it Easter life – living in the light of resurrection.

Lutheran pastor and writer Dan Erlander calls it Living Wet –

living in the promise and assurance of our baptism.

I suggested that “take up your cross” might not be the most appealing invitation.

But again, David Lose suggests that we take another look,

It’s not, of course, a very tempting invitation to the independent self-made man or woman the culture has told us we must be. But to those of us whose lives bear little resemblance to the commercials and billboards we are spoon fed each day –

to those of us who do not have our lives in order no matter how many Facebook posts or pictures we make insisting they are –

to those of us whose families look nothing like those we see on television, and who feel wretched about that –

to those of us, ultimately, who bear the scars of disappointment, set back, and failure –

this invitation deserves a second hearing.

Because Jesus’ life and ministry invites us to imagine that that God who beckons us into this kingdom understands our fear, knows our pains, and has borne our frustrations, failures, and disappointments – and loves us just as we are.

The invitation to “take up our cross” to follow Jesus into a life of service and love sounds a little different in this context, doesn’t it?

We all know the brokenness we bring to the table,

            no matter how much energy we spend trying to hide it from others.

But we follow a messiah who knows all about brokenness.

Nadia Bolz-Weber reminds us in the Animate: Faith video on the cross,

            that even in his resurrected body, Jesus bore the wounds of his crucifixion.

And that’s reassuring for her, and for every one of us who show up here with our own wounds and scars.

When Jesus invites us to follow, he invites us into a new way of life.

Life shaped by love, not fear.

Life shaped by trust, not greed.

Life shaped by kindness and generosity and hospitality.

Jesus invites us into a life shaped by sins forgiven,

            hearts restored,

            and resurrection lifting us out of death and despair.

Not an easy life.

Not a life free of suffering.

But abundant, cross-shaped life,

 in which God shapes our suffering and brokenness into something new.

Thanks be to God.

Amen. 

From today’s gospel:  Jesus said:  “And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church.”

In one of my several previous professions I was an architect.  In that frame of mind, I am amazed at how often building the church – the assembling of people to carry out Jesus’ teachings – is characterized in the same way you’d actually construct a brick and mortar church building.

In today’s gospel, Jesus tell Peter he’s going to build his church on him….on that rock.  There is also the famous parable of the Wise and Foolish Builders.  Both Matthew and Luke relate how Jesus talked of a foolish person who built a house on sand.  When the storms came the house was washed away.  But a wise person built their house on solid rock.  When the storms came, that house stood and survived.

There are numerous hymns which tell us how our church is constructed.  I fondly remember a hymn from my Methodist childhood:

(sing)

My hope is built on nothing less

Than Jesus blood and righteousness.

I dare not trust the sweetest frame,

But wholly lean on Jesus name.

On Christ the solid rock I stand.

All other ground is sinking sand.

All other ground is sinking sand.

There are two hymns in both our 1982 hymnal and the Gather hymnal which talk about building the church from the ground up.

(sing)

Christ is made the sure foundation.

Christ the head and cornerstone.

(sing)

The Church’s one foundation is Jesus Christ her Lord.

Today’s gospel, the parable, the hymns all use the imagery of building a brick and mortar building to describe how we are to build what goes inside an actual church building.

No matter what kind of building one wants to design and build, they all have to start at the same place – the foundation.  Sure, high-falutin’ architects scribble fabulous museums on napkins or sketch a courthouse on the back of on envelope.  But when it comes time to actually build that building.  You must start at the bottom.  You must start from the ground up.  You must start with the foundation.

And of the utmost importance to the foundation is the ground on which the building is going to be constructed.  One of the first things an architectural team must do is hire a geologist or a soil testing company to take plugs – drill holes into the earth and examine the substrate of the site for the new building.

It makes perfect sense.  You don’t want to build on shaky ground…do you?  Actually, today’s technology can allow us to build in the most unbelievable places – a sandy beach or a fault line.  But technology can only guarantee so much.  The best way to make sure your building will stand is to build it on solid ground.

Earlier this summer, there were videos from Texas of a million dollar home built on a cliff overlooking a lake.  It had a magnificent view, I’m sure.  But the after heavy rains, the cliff eroded and began to fall into the lake….as did the house.  So while it was possible to build the house in that location, it didn’t guarantee it would stay in that location.

So here’s how a foundation works.  You pour a concrete slab on the ground.  But as we all know, the top layer of the earth is not always that steady.  So the edge of the slab is turned down into the earth.  These are called stem walls.  The depth of the stem wall is determined by how far down you have to go before you hit something solid….like rock.  And once you’ve hit that solid substrate, a big square of concrete is poured.  That is called the footing.

That is how this church building is constructed.  The same principal holds true if the building has a basement, that slab is just lower than the level of the ground.

I’ve described all of this to you because I know for a fact that St. Michael and All Angels Episcopal Church is built on solid ground – on a rock – and our foundation is safe and secure.

I’m not talking about this building where we are gathered today – although I’m pretty sure that is in good shape, too.  I’m talking about the church – the people – the mission – the ministries of St. Michael’s.  We are the church and we are on solid ground.

Jesus told us that he would build his church on a rock.  That solid rock is Jesus and in today’s gospel we learn that Jesus recruited Peter to be that rock as well.  And the hymns I mentioned said Jesus is the foundation of the church.  Indeed, our Christian faith is founded on the belief that Jesus is the only child of God sent to the world to die for our sins.

But I always remember a blessing Fr. Daniel uses at the end of many services.  It is adapted from a writing of Teresa of Avila:

Today, Christ has no body on this earth.

You are his hands, his feet, his eyes, his body.

So we are now the foundation of the church.  We are the foundation of St. Michael’s.

I want you think about the horrific videos we’ve all seen of natural disasters.  24 hour news and weather channels bombard us with footage showing the aftermath of tornados, hurricanes, and floods.  The devastation is often unbearable to look at.  Homes and building are reduced to rubble or gone completely.

But there is one thing that always remains.  You can always locate where those homes and building used to stand because….the foundation always remains in place.  That slab on the ground or that basement is still there after the tornado, or the hurricane, or the flood, or the fire has leveled the part of building that was above the ground.  But the foundation is still there and it is still strong.  You can’t rip that foundation out of the ground.  If it was built on solid ground and constructed properly, that foundation will last forever.

Here at St. Michael’s we’ve had our share of storms over the last couple of years, haven’t we?  I was here at the CLAD retreat a few months ago.  I heard of all the pain and loss suffered by the hits this parish has taken.  I don’t need to remind you of the losses we have suffered.  And just like a house or a building that might be battered by a storm, we may feel like we at St. Michael’s is a little worse for the wear.

But I tell you, my brothers and sisters, our foundation is completely sound.  Our foundation is built on solid rock.  There is no way that our foundation is going to be moved by outside forces.

And I know the foundation itself it solid because I am looking at that foundation right this minute.  St. Michael’s – the very core foundation of St. Michael’s – is not made up one person.  The foundation does not consist of one clergy member or one parishioner or one member of the vestry.  Just like a brick and mortar building’s foundation is made of cement and sand and water and wire mesh and many pieces of steel reinforcing rod, our foundation is made up of all the personalities and hearts and souls and voices and hands and love of each one of us.

Nothing can shake this foundation.  We are a strong and steady foundation built on the solid rock of our faith!

Yes, we have suffered pain and loss.  We may feel hurt, disillusioned, sad…..scared.  All of those are valid emotions during a time of rough transition.  No one is saying we don’t have the right to feel that way.  But today I invite you to pack up all those emotions.  Put them in a duffel bag, a plastic grocery sack, your carry-on wheely suitcase and bring them along.  You can carry that baggage as long as you need to.  You can bring it out and unpack it as often as you want.  You can share it with the rest of the church and we will all discuss it and help you deal with it.

I recently heard a statistic.  75% of all households have the same item in them – two cardboard boxes that have never been unpacked since the residents’ last move.  Perhaps that goes to show we often carry things around with us that we actually don’t need.

St. Michael’s foundation is strong and secure.  While we may feel a little battered, there is a world out there much worse off than we are.  Jesus provided the rock and helped us build this foundation in order that we might carry his message to that world which so desperately needs to hear it.  Let’s continue to build on this foundation and do the work God has given us to do – to love and serve God as faithful witnesses of Christ our Lord.

On Christ the solid rock I stand.

All other ground is sinking sand.

All other ground is sinking sand.

This week as I was thinking about healing and God’s healing presence in our lives,  I remembered a story I heard this summer.

I have been gathering weekly with a small group of St Michael’s folks for a series called Animate Faith, which includes videos by nationally known teachers and writers.

Shane Hipps shared this story:
I remember being at home for Easter break during my sophomore year of college, and I was really stressed out about all kinds of things going on in my life. I felt like there was a storm raging around me. I’d put on a good face, but inside I was tied up. My dad and I were standing in the back yard and he turned to me and said, Shane, I have this sense that there is a knot in your spirit, and I’d like to pray for it to loosen.
My dad is a guy steeped in prayer, but he’s very private about it and he had never done anything like this before, so I was a little nervous. But I said, sounds good. And then he came, stood right next to me, and he placed his hand on my chest, and another hand on my back, which I didn’t expect, and then he said, “I think the knot is right here.” He spent a minute in silence. He didn’t say a word, and I could feel the warmth of his hand on my body, and I just breathed and in almost not time, I felt something in me uncoil, and tears were streaming down my cheeks. in that moment, something loosened in me. It was like stepping into the eye of a hurricane. The storm still raged around me, nothing in my life had changed. What changed was my relationship to those things, there was a calm, there was a peace, there was hope. It was much greater than my dad’s love for me.

Shane talks about this as an experience of salvation – but it could as easily be called healing, or revelation –  the experience of God’s presence with him.

He says, “Salvation – [healing, knowing God’s presence] – “is a moment by moment possibility while we live.  “It is a choice we make now, to trust Jesus.” 
That day Shane experienced being blessed, and knowing God was holding him in love.
The psalm today is a psalm which celebrates the blessings of God.
It reminds God’s people of the rich blessings they have received – and are receiving.
May God be gracious to us and bless us and make his face to shine upon us
    Let the peoples praise you, O God; let all the peoples praise you.
The earth has yielded its increase;
   God, our God, has blessed us.
May God continue to bless us;
    let all the ends of the earth revere God
The psalm invites the people to recognize God’s blessings with praise and thanksgiving. Even more, it is an invitation to trust – to trust fully in God’s love and care for us.
It invites the people of God into that place Shane calls the eye of the storm –resting in the loving care of God.This is what I think of when I hear Jesus say “abide in me.” It is what John Calvin called repose in God. And it is a place of healing and grace.

Sometimes when things go wrong, and we pray, we get the answers we seek –sickness is cured, relationships restored, a new job or opportunity comes through.
But other times, the situation does not change – not for a long time, not ever.There is treatment but not cure for an illness.A relationship is broken. Stress over work, struggle with addiction, worry for a child or parent, loneliness, fear -         our struggles and pain continue. But there is another kind of healing – the healing of knowing we are held by God.

The healing of abiding in God’s love and peace,  even while the storm rages. It is a healing we find in prayer.

In community. In rituals of confession and forgiveness, sharing the Peace, singing together,and receiving the grace of the Eucharist.
It is a healing we find in letting go, and in seeing blessings as clearly as struggles. This is the second time this summer I am preaching about a psalm (the first was at Live at Five in June, when I preached on Psalm 145) It is not something I’ve done often in almost 15 years of ordained ministry.
  But I think the way many psalms focus on praise and gratitude has drawn me –  I’ve been captured by my reading of them,  caught up in study of the beautiful words of poetry and themes of blessing.

Because I am feeling blessed to be at St Michael’s. Despite everything that has happened in the last year and a half, we are truly blessed.

People come here for the first time and feel the Spirit of love and friendship we have among us.

Amid our losses, we have been showered with blessings this summer: a very generous response to our mini-pledge drive in July;
  a new teacher at the preschool;  and a person coming to lead singing with our kids during children’s chapel.    

I mentioned needing a keyboard for her to use, and the first person I spoke to had one to donate.

We are blessed to have David Martin serving here, and Doug Travis coming next month.

It’s a matter of perspective.

It’s a matter of recognizing our blessings.

The blessings are all around us, if we look.

I’m aware of it in the beauty and energy of our song leaders and congregation.

I’m aware of it whenever I look out at all of you, some of whom I know well and some hardly at all, but all of us here together seeking God and looking for healing of our deepest wounds and fears.

I have struggled with depression all of my adult life.

For years I prayed for peace and healing, hoping for some miraculous day when I would wake up filled with peace and the struggle would end.

I’ve realized it doesn’t work that way.

For me, healing is a day-to-day thing,choosing again and again to trust God and keep walking in faith,  no matter my mood at the moment.

Now I pray to be present to my life and aware of the blessings I receive.

Two weeks ago, I was staying with my family in a cabin on the shore of Lake Huron.

We had one of those tube floats, and my youngest son, Micah, asked me to go out on it with him.

We floated away from shore, water around us as far as we could see,  his little 6 year old body cuddled against me.

As we rose and fell on the gentle waves, I felt such gratitude –  for Micah, for the water, for vacation and time to relax.

I knew God was holding me, as sure as the water below and the boy cuddled next to me.

Wednesday morning, I was up before 6:00 for the first day of school.

I went to get something from the car, and saw the most beautiful sunrise(something I am very rarely awake to see.)

I took a 10 minute walk, thanking God for life and beauty –and for school starting up again. As I learn to pay attention to the present, to be aware of blessings,  I experience more and more of those moments Shane talks about – moments of revelation, of healing, of experiencing eternal life now. 

I read this week about a church in Texas that does a Driver’s License Blessing  for families when they reach this life-changing milestone with a teenager.

Youth and their parents are prayed for, and the new drivers given key chains to remind them of God’s presence. They read Psalm 121.

Then the parents of the new drivers pray,

 “Holy God, you are the beginning and end of every road we take. At every moment and in every place, you are near to your children. Keep this, your treasured child, in your care. Lead him as you led the children of Israel through the wilderness. Protect him as you protected Abraham and Sarah when they left their own land and set out on a journey. Enable him to travel safely, with care for the safety of others.”

Finally, the pastors, parents, and friends encircle the youth and offer a blessing:

            “May the Lord remain constantly at your side, and guide your journey. Amen.”

A parent reflected on how the experience blessed her:

“For me, this was an incredibly touching experience, one that drew from me a well of tears as I read the prayers. The tears were tears of healing and letting go. No one gathered that day had known how tender I was about my son driving on his own, as my own brother was completely paralyzed from an automobile accident that took place in the 1970’s.”

In the prayers of her community, and in offering to God her hopes and fears for her son, this woman found healing. 

The ability to bless one another, to recognize and share the blessings we receive,   is one of the gifts of community.

We gather to share our stories, to pray with and for one another.

We gather to share our gifts and joys.

We gather to share our wounds, our yearnings, our longing and hope for healing.

As we take time this morning to offer to God our prayer for healing for ourselves and others, I offer this blessing, ancient and new:

May God be gracious to us and bless us.

May God’s face shine upon us.

May God continue to bless us.

May God grant us healing and peace, today and always.

Amen.