Sixth Sunday of Easter: May 16, 2004.

Acts 16:9-15

Psalm 67

Revelation 21:10, 22-22:5

John 14:23-29 or John 5:1-9

The Sixth Sunday of Easter anticipates Jesus' ascension and promise to be with us until he comes again. As Jesus' resurrected body is withdrawn from earthly visibility, our Easter call to "see and proclaim Christ alive in the church and the world" takes on new dimensions.

First Reading

Visions and dreams are charting the course for the church again ... this time for Paul's far-flung mission to the Gentiles. Our group notes that the word is going out! It's not just spinning in an immediate circle or geography; the arms of the church are widening.

Lila reflects the difficulty we experience in extending arms of welcome especially to the unchurched of our community. "It's hard to stretch beyond our little circle. Before resurrection we could maybe be justified in keeping to ourselves. But now--it's clear we need to move outside." Our church building sits high on a bluff over the Iron River. Its steeple is visible all over town as a sign, we hope, that Christ is alive in this place. We do extend communion welcome, Lila acknowledges, if unchurched people show up here. But in this story God's action through Paul's witness doesn't take place in church or even within established city limits. We wonder what would lead anyone to suppose a place of prayer in this informal, unmarked space "down by the river" outside the city gate. We think about such spaces for prayer outside the confines of our church building: Women's Aglow at the Senior Center, Cursillo meetings in the grocery store cafe, the flagpole prayer circle at the middle school, campground services, Bible studies at the prison, deliberate intersections of prayer in the public square. How comfortable are we as a church about these gatherings outside our walls?

Barb confesses her discomfort. She doesn't feel free to talk to people about faith outside a church setting. "But here," she marvels, "Paul goes right up to the women's circle and begins to tell them about the Lord!" Our group giggles a little at Paul inserting himself and his message into this women's prayer group on the riverbank. We raise eyebrows but acknowledge that this graphic breaking down of barriers between men and women, in this space outside the conventions, helped spread the Word.

Barb finds herself moved by how eager Lydia is for this Life. Though she has means, "it didn't take Lydia long to realize that this was the way she wanted to live ... and she dragged her whole family into the river of life with her." Barb gets excited about how receptive people in our community might in fact turn out to be, people she never would have expected to be hungry for the word of Life, people she might never have thought to share her experience of Christ with.

Barb gains insight into the transformation of the life of the whole community by what happens next: "Lydia puts the ball right back into Paul's court--Will he take a risk, too? She tests her welcome into this new group by prevailing on Paul to stay in her home and discover the gifts she brings into the circle." Like Peter before him, Paul enters a new way of being by accepting the hospitality of a Gentile household for the first time. Seeing and proclaiming Christ in the church and the world today will send ripples and shock waves through the lives of individuals and communities who engage the Easter story.

We are further emboldened in our outreach by John's vision of the holy city of God. It is heaven which once again comes down to earth. But now God's throne is smack in the middle of the streets. There's no temple at all; the entire city is God's province and dwelling. While there are gates, they are wide open. Not a part of this city, however, will be those who have elevated the material to a god and placed self-interest above justice (12:11), those who have compromised with Babylon and collaborated in the old order (13:8), and the cowards who have refused to protest injustice (21:8) (Rowland, New Interpreter's Bible Commentary). Here, everyone has what they need. It's not sterile but a peopled city built on life-giving justice. Immediately suggested was our national and increasingly global struggle to provide health care, food, and clean water for all, not just those with wealth.

Where can we grasp John's Easter vision of God's throne smack in the middle of our city's streets today? Perhaps with those who work in governmental affairs. Perhaps in those who subvert the "old order" and speak out for mercy and justice for the oppressed. Perhaps in those times when the church leaves its stained glass and steeples and takes to the streets vigiling for peace or joining the community in walking for hunger or heat banks. Who might we encounter there with a word or with a loving act? What would happen if we didn't just wait for unchurched people to come to church? How might they respond with eager joy to be part of the river of such a life?

This vision includes people not being afraid or ashamed to broadcast their belonging to the Lamb--his name will be on their foreheads. "It will be like Ash Wednesday at bowling," Barb proclaims. "For years, Catholics would come with their ashes on. Even after we Lutherans started getting ashes, I'd wash mine off. But maybe I'll leave them on this year and see what happens!"

As Jesus continues to address his disciples in preparation for a different way of his being in the world, the flow is once again from heaven to earth, God coming to meet us where we live. The Father and Jesus make their home with us through love and the keeping of the word. In such a way, we may become what the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Southeastern Wisconsin declared a community of "Eucharist without walls." Formed by Jesus' real presence in communion, the Holy Spirit unites us into an outreaching community of Eucharist as we become Christ's presence to all we encounter in the every day of our lives. The 600,000 members of the diocese were encouraged to participate in worship and encourage others to do so; to live the Eucharist fully outside the mass by outreach to others as a living symbol of Eucharist without walls; and not to be afraid of sharing with others the enthusiasm they had for their own faith.

Pastoral Reflection

Jesse called up from a truck stop one Sunday night with an important question. We'd prayed for his safe travel one Sunday not long before, and blessed his truck when he gave tours of his cab after worship. Now he was on the road and had gone to Trucker's Church at a service plaza that morning. But this was the thing: "Some of the guys were talking afterward," Jesse said, "and it sounded to me like what they were saying was that Jesus is God. Is that true? Because if it is, it would explain a lot that I just wasn't getting about church."

I'd never heard of Trucker's Church, and might have sniffed about it in another context. But I'm humbled by this conversation with Jesse and thank God for it. I asked Jesse how he "supposed" that truck plaza might be a place of prayer at a particular time on Sunday morning, and he says they all pass it on over the radio, and just pull in!