Redemption & Renewal

REDEMPTION & RENEWAL (Sermon)

3/31/24 ~ St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church, Encinitas, CA

Easter Day (B): Isaiah 25:6-9; Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24; Acts 10:34-43; John 20:1-18

I’m sure you’ve heard the statistics. Somewhere around 60% of adults in the U.S. report feeling lonely, and young adults, between the ages of 18 and 22 are the loneliest. Right behind them, we’ve heard, repeatedly, that our teens are facing a mental health crisis, like never before. 

You’ve also, probably, heard the list of possible causes, which range from the repercussions of being isolated during the early stages of a world-wide pandemic, to the introduction of the Smartphone and social media several years ago, to the heighted divisiveness present in our country. 

And, yet, humanity is carrying on. It might not look like it, but we’re actually evolving and, in most cases, learning from our mistakes. We’re putting greater value on mental health. We’re figuring out how to restructure work-life balance so that self-care is a regular part of the equation. 

Though, maybe not consciously, in these efforts, we are seeking redemption and renewal. But when things evolve, they start to look different. For instance, I hear some older folks comment that the younger generation just doesn’t have the same work ethic that they used to have. 

Holy week has moved us through a procession of evolving. On Thursday, we experienced Jesus washing the feet of the disciples, both telling and demonstrating to them that they were no longer teacher and students, but friends of equal stature. On Friday, we stood with the disciples, and the rest of Jesus’s family, watching him breathe his last earthly breath. And this morning, when Mary first sees Jesus, he is in the process of shifting from the earthly friend she knew to our Risen Christ, so she doesn’t recognize him at first.

This is true of the Church as well. We are evolving. About a decade ago, every conference, training or presentation I attended delivered the same message: “The Church is dying…that is unless you do something drastic, right now.” Of course, there were never solutions offered, rather lots of statistics to back-up the claim that the Church was dying. 

And, it’s true, in all denominations—even across religions, our average Sunday attendance has declined. The presenters warned there was no longer a roadmap; that all we’d have to guide us on this journey, as church leaders, was a compass. 

Well, that compass actually became a very helpful image when the pandemic hit, because, we had to do things drastically different without any warning. As we shifted to online worship, and then, here at St. Andrew’s, to drive-in worship, all we could do is keep our efforts pointing back to God—to God as our True North. And the more we realized that the pandemic wasn’t going to be over in a couple of weeks or even months, the more flexible we became. 

We evolved and pivoted in ways none of us had anticipated. We formed phone trees to check-in on each other. We offered lifelines of connection through weekly videos. It took a global crisis for us to remember that the Church is not a building. We are the church. 

That was the common thread in a conference I attended last month. Presenter after presenter gave examples of redemption and renewal throughout the Episcopal Church. Some speakers even implored us, “Let's stop saying that Church is dying.” Instead, they suggested we ought to talk about how the church is evolving, and how when things evolve, some parts of it naturally die off. 

That’s the Easter message—that all things will be made new. When the other disciples come to the tomb, their query stops there. They’ve proven to themselves that Mary gave an accurate report—Jesus’s body is gone—and they go home. But not Mary. Mary knows there is more to this story, so she sticks around. 

Because she’s willing to wade through the grief and confusion, she is the first to encounter the Risen Christ. She is given a first-hand experience of the evolutionary nature of Jesus’s resurrection, as he tells her “Do not hold on to me [yet].” The Risen Christ is with us, too, in the ways we counter those mental health statistics I mentioned. 

The Church is not a building. The Church is a place to find meaning, purpose, and belonging. As I indicated, there are several contributors to our mental health crisis, but the antidote to loneliness and depression is the same across all the studies. Mental health wellness is significantly improved with meaning, purpose and belonging. 

I was reminded in that recent conference that our role, as Church, is to keep up with the culture, and to be a place that talks about Jesus in relevant ways. We are called to give people an authentic experience of love, and to offer activities and messages that are liberating and life-giving. 

Here at St. Andrew’s—especially post-pandemic—we understand, it’s not just who comes to worship here on Sundays who are a part of us. Rather, everyone who comes onto our campus, or onto our website, belong here. 

In the weeks to come, our assigned scripture readings will give us glimpses of other resurrection stories, where the Risen Christ shows up in unlikely places. It will take his followers time to recognize Jesus, but with each encounter they will be reminded that they have not been abandoned. Instead, Jesus, in his new form, will continue to evolve them into the kind of disciples who lead others to redemption and renewal.

Likewise, the presence of Christ among us lifts us up as we serve as the hands, voice and feet of God in the world. As one theologian put it, as our lives are changed, we help change the lives of others. 

So, as you contemplate how you will engage and share the meaning, purpose, and belonging available here at St. Andrew’s, I’ll leave you with a quote by author Brian Doyle. This is from his book called: Grace Notes.

"So let us go then, you and I, and forge a new thing. We do not know its shape; but we know the astounding idea at its heart, the idea that has driven the [Christian] Catholic clan through two thousand years, the idea that remains, I believe, the key to the moral evolution of the human race, the idea that fell again and again from the lips of the gaunt, dusty man with starlight in his veins: love, love, love, love, love.”

-AMEN & ALLELUIA!