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Biography
The Rev. Mark
Hanson is Presiding Bishop of the Evangelical Lutheran Church
in America, headquartered in Chicago. He was also recently elected
President of the Lutheran World Federation with headquarters in Geneva,
Switzerland. A native of Minneapolis and a life-long Lutheran, Mark was
educated at Augsburg College, Union Theological Seminary, Luther
Seminary and Harvard Divinity School. Prior to his election as bishop of
the St. Paul Area Synod in 1995 and as Presiding Bishop in 2001, he
served churches in Minnesota for over twenty years. Mark is the author
of "Faithful Yet Changing: The Church in Challenging Times."
[Biographical information is correct as of the broadcast date noted
above.]
"Fleeing
or Engaging the World?"
A reading from John's Gospel, the
20th Chapter:
When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the
doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of
the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, "Peace be with you."
After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the
disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Then Jesus said to them
again, "Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you."
When he said this, he breathed on them and said to them, "Receive the
Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven. If you
retain the sins of any, they are retained."
Grace to you and peace from God our creator and from our crucified and
risen Christ. Amen.
"Behind locked doors afraid." It is the description of Jesus' disciples,
that first Easter evening. Yet, is it not also a vivid portrayal of our
lives today? Increasingly we live isolated by our fears. We're terrified
of violence, afraid of the stranger, worried about the future, uncertain
about the economy. Yet I wonder how many of us Christians lie awake at
night fearful that in the morning someone might accuse us of being
followers of Jesus.
Is that not what kept Jesus' disciples barricaded behind closed doors on
that first Easter evening?
If they went out into the streets, someone might say, "There he is! He
is a follower of Jesus. Bring him to trial, crucify him!" Think for a
moment. If someone did accuse you of being a follower of Jesus, what
evidence would they have to convict you?
In the midst of his fearful disciples behind locked doors stands the
risen Christ. What does he say? "Peace be with you." Such an ordinary
greeting and yet such an extraordinary gift. What is this peace that
Christ offers you as you contend with your deepest fears? What is the
peace Christ brings into our world in turmoil? It is a peace that is
both rest and movement. Joseph Sittler described that tension of peace
as rest and peace as movement in a sermon when he said:
When the world is regarded as a succulent resource to be squeezed for
its juice of joy, it turns out to be a thief, a liar, and a cheat. And
yet when the world is received as a gift, a grace, an ever astounding
wonder, it can be rightly enjoyed and justly used.
The peace of God as rest, whose gift is to have no anxiety, fulfills
itself in a peace of God as movement which goes out with holy concern
about everything.
The peace of God as rest in God's acceptance of a person is not a
knowledge that the world can deliver, is not in fact concerned with the
world at all. But this same peace . . . knows that the peaceless world
is precisely the place for working out of God's will for truth, justice,
purity, and beauty. Thus far, Sittler.
But before the crucified and risen Christ sends his terrified disciples,
and you and me, out into the world, he gives three gifts. First, the
gift of himself. "Jesus said, ‘Peace be with you.' After he said this,
he showed them his hand and his side." How often when burdened down by
fear do we cry out, "Where are you, God? Where are you in this world so
torn by violence? Where are you in the suffering of my life?" The wounds
of Jesus' crucified body, now risen, give us the answer. God is present
in, not absent from, our agony. But not only present. The deeper truth
of the cross is this: God is present for us and for the whole creation.
Through Jesus' life, suffering, death, and resurrection, God is
participating in our very being, bringing healing and peace in ways we
cannot fully comprehend.
When the crucified and risen Christ comes into our fearful and sinful
lives, he not only gives us the gift of himself, but he also sends us
into the world. "Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send
you." Just think: into the violent world that had crucified Jesus, he
now sends his followers. Yes, peace is rest and peace is movement.
Sometimes, I wonder—dare I say I worry—do we look to the church to
provide a refuge from the world, rather than a community of faith God
sends into the world? Yet we are not sent into the fearful, sinful,
violent world on our own. The risen Christ sends us in the power of the
Holy Spirit. "When Jesus had said this, he breathed on them and said to
them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.'" This is his second gift.
Our granddaughter was born without a connected esophagus. It has since
been surgically repaired, thanks be to God. Before she was released from
the hospital, we as a family had to take CPR training. On a tiny doll,
each one of us had to learn how to give mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
Well, I could not get that little doll's chest to expand with my breath.
At first it was funny, then embarrassing, finally downright frustrating.
There are times when it may seem like we are out on our own in the
world, that it is up to us to find within ourselves the resources, the
energies to bring peace into the world. And then feeling inadequate,
overwhelmed, discouraged, we can easily give up, withdraw into
ourselves, tend to our personal issues and challenges, and just turn our
backs and forget about the violent, struggling world. But what then do
we do with Christ's words: "As the Father sends me, so I send you"? We
claim the promise, Christ's promise, that we are sent into the fearful
and often violent world not on our own, but in the power of the Holy
Spirit, as a community of faith.
You see, peace is not simply the absence of conflict. Peace is the
presence of justice for all. No, you and I will not always agree on the
way to peace, yet in the power of the Holy Spirit, we are all sent into
the violent world to be peacemakers.
The crucified and risen Christ gives us the gift of himself, sends us
the power of the Holy Spirit, and with the promise of the Gospel. And
this, then, is that third gift. What is the Gospel? What is that Good
News? God forgives sinners! As the risen Christ said when he sent his
terrified disciples into the world, "Receive the Holy Spirit. If you
forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins
of any, they are retained." Do you think by that Jesus could possibly
mean that if I fail to tell my neighbor, my colleague at work, my son or
my daughter, the Good News that God in Christ forgives you, then I bear
responsibility for their sins?
When we are burdened with guilt, the hardest words to believe are these:
"God forgives you." Yet that is the Good News! There is nothing in your
past for which you need to atone, there is nothing in the future you
need to fear. By the power of the Holy Spirit, we are free to entrust
our whole lives to God's promise. Living in faith, we are also free to
go into the world to bear witness to God's love, to serve our neighbor,
to work for justice and peace.
I am continually amazed that when Nelson Mandela came out of years and
years of confinement in a South African prison, he did not call for
retaliation and a violent uprising. Rather he called for a time of
speaking the truth and seeking reconciliation. He chose nonviolence as
the response to the terrible suffering he and thousands upon thousands
of Black South Africans and Afrikaners had experienced for generations.
"If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven. If you retain the
sins of any, they are retained."
Doesn't that promise make you want to go and call up that family member,
that friend, from whom you have felt alienated, with whom you last spoke
harsh words, and share the good news, "God forgives you. I forgive you,"
and then ask for forgiveness? Why does it often seem easier to hold onto
resentments, than to seek reconciliation? Why do we feel more secure
behind locked doors than trust in the promise that the crucified and
risen Christ is alive in the world and bids us to come and meet him
there?
This is my prayer for you:
May the peace of Christ be with you always.
May you know that peace as rest and as movement.
Amen.
Interview with Mark
Hanson
Interviewed by Lydia Talbot
Lydia Talbot: Bishop
Hanson, your compelling message on fleeing or engaging the world. You talk about
public ministry and political engagement as an extension of religious faith. How
is that?
Mark Hanson: If we believe as we confess
that God continues to create life, that God so loves the world that God in
Christ has reconciled the world, then we, created in God's image and who bear
the name of Christ, are sent out into the world. Now the challenges are to know
when and how do we engage the world. When do we resist evil in the world? When
do we stay detached from the world? I think those questions of discernment
belong to the whole community of faith. They are more than any one individual
can possibly take on by themselves.
Talbot: Detachment. There are times,
however, when we must flee. Is that right?
Hanson: Well, in the quote I gave from
Joseph Sittler, he talked about how God gives a peace that the world cannot
give. God, in words of grace and mercy, says to us: "You are loved. You are my
child." The competitive, consumptive world in which we live cannot possibly give
those messages and that kind of peace.
Talbot: Joseph Sittler was, I am certain,
one of your mentors. A giant in this field of faith and culture. The metaphor he
uses for the interconnectedness of the human condition is a spider web. Touch
one part and the whole part quivers.
Hanson: Those kinds of interconnected.
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