On this resurrection morning, a day full of wonder and mystery and sacred Story, I want to tell YOU a story. It’s a story that starts with home.
Home, for me, this place where I first encountered the mysteries and wonders and struggles of life, is the Pacific Northwest,
where I grew up among the tall fir trees
and wide and wild rivers
and the forceful Pacific Ocean
and moss-covered rocks
and serious banana slugs
(that will cause your tongue to go numb if you lick them!).
My memories of the Northwest are somewhat enchanted:
full of wonder and fascination and awe.
One of those memories centers on a very particular rock,
in a very particular river,
in a very particular forest.
Like a rock, like a rock, God is under our feet.
Like the starry night sky, God is over our head.
Like the sun on the horizon, God is ever before.
Like the river runs to ocean, our home is in God evermore.
Every summer of my childhood
my home church held a week of Church Camp at Camp Arrawanna
in the foothills of majestic Mt. Hood.
As soon as I was old enough –
which was about 8 years old –
I joined with all of the other young people –
from elementary school through high school –
for a week at camp.
Church camp was a highlight for me.
The main camp was based in a lodge in the middle of the woods.
If you left the lodge and followed the wide path deeper into the woods
you would come to “Council Rock” – a huge rock –
that served as the backdrop to the campfire ring
where we gathered each morning and evening
to sing and hear bible stories.
Each Friday, at the end of camp,
-While the fire burned bright,
and stories of Jesus were told
and friends and mentors shared what it meant for them
to “follow Jesus,
and the Spirit of the place seemed particularly conducive
to a sense of belonging and care and support and love…
In the midst of this magical fireside encounter,
we were invited to find a stick and throw it in the fire:
a sign of our intention to follow the ways of Jesus, throughout life.
Each year there was talk of forgiveness –
So one could go to heaven – and avoid hell.
But as a 11 year old, “forgiveness” – and being told that I should feel bad because Jesus died for my sins – didn’t entirely make sense.
But the stories of Jesus – and his compassion, his love, his miracles…
That was inspiring.
And the sense of belonging with my friends and counselors and pastors –
This made sense.
Enough so that when I was 11 years old,
at the campfire ring at Council Rock,
I earnestly found a dry stick in the underbrush
and when the time came, I reverently threw it in the fire,
saying, “I’m in. I want to be a part of this.”
Whatever THIS is.
And while I didn’t know exactly what “THIS” would mean for me,
I knew I wanted to start the journey, into the unknown.
Into the mystery that we call faith.
By the time I was in my early teens –
I could, with some degree of confidence,
venture past Council Rock and the fire ring
and head deeper into the heart of the forest,
ever mindful of the forks in the path:
If I veered right,
the path would lead across a field and up the mountain.
And if I veered left,
the path would eventually take me to the river.
My goal was almost always to get to a special rock
on the banks of the Salmon River.
I was DRAWN to this rock, year after year.
There I would sit basking in the warmth of the sun,
occasionally baptized by the mist of the frigid river water,
snowmelt off of Mt. Hood.
There I sat. In silence. Just enjoying being.
There I sat, year after year,
on this oddly sacred rock on the edge of the Salmon river.
Over the years it was to this rock that I went when I had to make decisions:
-if I was going to give up competitive swimming
after years of time spent in the pool —
-and it was there I went after the young and handsome
Mark Shibley held my hand —
-and it was there I went when, at the age of 14,
my parents informed me that they were getting divorced – and my father left.
-It was there I went when I needed to make decisions about faith
and college and life-focus.
-and it was there I went when my father lost his ability to speak and read and write after having two brain aneurysms the month before I was to graduate from high school.
-and it was there I went
when I needed to make the decision
to leave my homeland and move across the country
to follow what I sensed to be God’s calling on my life,
to be of service to others in Atlanta, Georgia.
There was SOMETHING about sitting on that rock
on the banks of the Salmon river
that had a centering, calming, grounding effect on me.
Regardless of the circumstance,
the loss, the pain, the confusion,
if I could just sit on that rock,
sprayed by the chilly water and
touched by the warm sun;
watching the occasional fish jumping through the current…
Sitting on that rock,
along the Salmon River,
I was in God’s presence.
I was at home:
Supported. Comforted. Loved.
This was sacred space wherein I experienced God’s presence
in and through and as
the mysterious, enchanted creation that surrounded me.
My faith somehow made sense sitting on this rock
on the banks of the Salmon River.
__________
Like a rock, like a rock, God is under our feet.
Like the starry night sky, God is over our head.
Like the sun on the horizon, God is ever before.
Like the river runs to ocean, our home is in God evermore.
___________
In the gospel of Mark the story of the resurrection of Jesus is sparse –
and kind of inconclusive.
We find descriptions of the natural world:
the risen sun,
the gathered spices,
the huge rock at the entrance to the tomb.
And the surprise – when the women arrived to find that the rock was moved, revealing a mysterious person inside,
telling the women to “not be alarmed”
(while being alarmed seems entirely appropriate, given the situation).
The women are told that Jesus,
who was crucified, has risen –
and that he’ll meet them and the others on up ahead in Galilee.
“There you will see him, just as he told you,”
the women were told by the mysterious being.
And the women took off running because
“terror and amazement had seized them.”
There’s a LOT to be curious about in this story.
It’s a story full of mystery. And wonder. And enchantment.
And amazement….and fear.
There are a LOT of unknowns in this story.
There are a LOT of unknowns in this life.
But to follow the curiosity,
we do well to enter into this story with that sense of
wonder and enchantment –
and step away from our need to analyze and critique –
and to enter into the enchanted world
that is the the place where the incarnation –
that is, that place where the embodiment of the LOVE of God
mysteriously intersects with the natural world.
So while today we focus on Resurrection –
We do well to remember that
resurrection means nothing apart from the Incarnation.
The Incarnation is the core of Christian faith:
God’s very self – that is the LOVE that fires the universe –
has come among us and has taught us
and has suffered among us
and died among us.
And the power of LOVE continued to do its work,
restoring and liberating and resurrecting,
offering hope in the face of all that is death-dealing.
Offering hope in the face of all the unknowns.
This power of Divine LOVE is present to us
not only in this story of Jesus’ resurrection,
but also in the world around us:
In each kernel of wheat that dies in the earth
only to burst forth with abundant new life.
The power of LOVE is evident
throughout this amazing creation that we enjoy.
This LOVE permeates the whole of creation;
everything from people to spices to rocks to the whole of the Cosmos.
But far too often we tend to see the world as a problem to be solved.
Not a wonder to behold.
And our lives get caught up in business
and we are driven by that which must be tended to RIGHT NOW.
And we are distracted by the plethora of words and images and information
that scroll across our screens every moment of every day.
And we are deaf to the sounds and blind to sights of the sacred
because the persistent noise and distraction all around us
blocking out the sounds of silence.
And so we unintentionally miss out on the enchanted and enlivened
Presence of the wind rustling through the trees,
the crickets joined in a chorus of life as we walk by,
the woodpecker, the squirrels, the geese,
our own steps over the frosted grass,
calling us to LISTEN.
We miss out on the flowing water in the nearby river
and the warmth from the sun
and sound of the mockingbird,
calling over and over again:
To pay attention. Pay attention. Pay attention.
This is LOVE made known to us in matter and spirit –
right here.
Right where we are.
Resurrected LIFE.
Friends, Our world is on fire, literally and figuratively.
If we are to embody LOVE
in our following of Jesus in this hell-bent,
violence-bent,
hatred-bent world,
we need to find ways to live in this world –
enchanted by the presence of God-
expressing love in us and around us and through us –
As we humble ourselves and willingly pour ourselves out for others,
even as Jesus did for the sake of all of us.
And this takes me back to the rock on the Salmon River.
_______
It was something of a knowing surprise
when I became aware, a few years back,
of the connection between CHRIST AND THE SALMON.
You see, I’m Irish. My mother was a Riley.
And I’ve always identified with my Irish roots.
In recent years, I’ve been intrigued by Celtic Spirituality
and the things I can learn from the earthy faith tradition
that grew up amidst the mossy emerald isles.
So imagine my surprise when I discovered
that within Celtic spirituality there is a special place for the Salmon.
We know that the fish was an important symbol in early Christianity.
And within Celtic Christianity,
the Salmon holds particular Christological significance.
It is said that the Salmon is
“one of the most ancient symbols of Christ in the Celtic world,”
an image associated with wisdom and knowledge.
You see, the Salmon is born into the freezing rivers,
And ventures out, full of glistening vitality,
swimming for miles and miles,
into larger and larger bodies of water,
until she gets to the wide open ocean,
where she lives in the wondrous depths.
Then, when the time is right, she returns – upstream,
spent and worn,
having given fully of herself.
And in one final act of self-giving,
she lays her eggs back in the same river she was born into
and gives her very life
for the sake of the new life that is yet to come.
Pondering this image,
I am transported back to the rock on the banks of the Salmon river,
inspired now by the presence of Christ –
holy, loving, persistent, life-giving Christ.
And the Salmon, glistening through the crystal clear water,
making her way home, to the place of her birth;
home to the place of the fullness of life
and death
and life again.
Not because she thinks this was a good idea.
But because this is her essence.
This is how she is made to embody LIFE and LOVE in the world.
This is how she embodies an oddly sacred, resurrected life.
____________
Like a rock, like a rock, God is under our feet.
Like the starry night sky, God is over our head.
Like the sun on the horizon, God is ever before.
Like the river runs to ocean, our home is in God evermore.
_____________
An EPILOGUE
A few years back I found myself close to Camp Arrawanna
in the foothills of Mt. Hood.
So I decided to just go see
if I remembered the Rock along the Salmon River correctly
or if my remembering was distorted by years and distance.
As it happened, Outdoor School – a program of the public schools –
was in session
so I couldn’t just walk around on my own.
But when I asked about the rock,
the Program Director offered to escort me on a hike through the woods, saying “I know the rock you’re talking about.
There are actually three rocks there –
but only one is close to the bank.
As we got closer he said to me,
“We call the three rocks the Trinity Rocks.
When the summer camp kids inner tube down the river
they use the Trinity Rocks to keep them safe;
To keep them from going too far down the Salmon River.”
A distinct tingle went down my spine
as I stood on the shore in the face of the Trinity Rocks:
the Ever-Present Source and Power of all that is,
the Incarnate all-loving, all-giving Christ,
the enlivening, wild and free Spirit –
all freely giving of themselves,
pouring themselves out in a perpetual cycle of LOVE:
The dynamism of Holy Mystery.
And we who are invited to join with the Trinity of Mystery
in this dance of love,
being filled with LOVE by all that is HOLY around us
and offering LOVE in places of struggle and suffering.
Over and over again.
Offering HOPE in the face of threat and death.
This is the enchanted life;
Liberated, free life;
Resurrected life;
the way of love;
the way of Jesus –
wherein our eyes are opened to be surprised
by the wonder-filled and holy presence
of the God of Love
in the concrete and beauty-filled
expressions of love and awe
and mystery
all around us.
And wherein our response to this enchanted life
we have been invited to embrace
is a free-flowing outpouring of LOVE to the world around us,
In the pursuit of justice and compassion and liberation for all.
Allured by this LOVE – and empowered by this LOVE,
my hope for us all is that we live into these days of new life
with our eyes and our ears and all our senses
wide be open to the mysterious and concrete
presence of the RISEN CHRIST,
the absolute presence of LOVE,
all around us. AMEN.
SILENT MEDITATION
SONG OF RESPONSE/SENDING SONG Christ is risen! Shout Hosanna!
BENEDICTION
ON THIS DAY OF RESURRECTION,
GO with eyes, ears, heart, mind, and soul,
wide open to the presence of the Risen Christ,
Knowing that this LOVING PRESENCE is your
sustenance, your liberation, your joy.
Go in peace! Go in joy!