Sunday, March 15, 2015

Gospel, in three minutes



If you read our 2 year vision plan in the last Newsletter, you’ll know that we are posting all the Sunday sermons online on Youtube… one of the interesting things I am able to do,
being the account’s administrator,
is look at the statistics about how people watch the sermons online.
          With a few exceptions the average person watches one of my sermons for a little over 3 minutes. I initially felt kinda bad about that… but then I remembered just how badly the American attention span suffers
—the average person as of 2012 can only keep focused on one thing for 8 seconds
—a whole one second less than a goldfish
—and the three minutes and fifteen seconds I get from a viewer on Youtube is a whopping 33 seconds more than the average youtube video gets.
          So, with those three minutes in mind—I’d like to try something a little different today—I’d like to do a sort of Machine Gun sermon—the Gospel in three minutes or less, four times.
          Let us pray
1.
          Look at us, raising a generation on our complaints about God and God’s people. We keep claiming things used to be great
—we point to God’s acts in the past so often we’ve in fact pushed God there for good.
By ushering God into the past, we’ve destroyed our children’s future relationship with God. We’ve poisoned our community with our nostalgia—we’ve ensured we’ll be the last generation of God’s people.
          But look, God doesn’t leave us here, wailing in the wilderness
—we complain of no food, yet we eat God’s manna.
Then we complain of no good food, and God offers us quail.
We complain of no water, yet from the very Rock of God our thirst is quenched. We are brought low, humbled, by a poison that parallels our own poisonous, venomous words
—snake venom for our snake tongues.       
          And then, like someone going through the steps, at a Narcotics Anonymous meeting, we are forced to look up and face the poisonous creature.
We name the elephant in the room, we look our troubles in the face.
We survive, wounded but aware and alive
—facing the world as it is
--facing our own culpability and treachery,
facing the fact that it is God alone who has brought us this far.
Amen.

2.
          Look at us. We who are scattered, so far away from what can be called home—so far away too from one another. We’re strangers here.
          Yet God grabs us up, and brings us home, holding our hand as we travel to safety. God also searches far and wide to gather us in, that we might be together again. We are no longer immigrants, no longer strangers, but brothers and sisters reunited, together again with those who we love.
          Look at us. We who are sick, so low and oppressed by the power of death, that simply putting water to our lips, or food in our bellies, is impossible. Truly we’re ill.
          Yet God is the Good Physician. God saves us from distress, with His Word, so often spoken by a sister or brother in the faith, He heals. His steadfast love is balm and a Band-Aid, it is prescription and ointment—recovery and release, healing and wholeness.
He is with us through the whole process, steadfast and never abandoning, unceasing in His care.
Amen!

3.
          My God! We are dead and disobedient.
We are an uncomfortable point…
A metaphor and a truth that no one wants to speak—but here it is,
we’re controlled by death and captured by powers which defy God.
          We’re hardwired with habits and inclinations that hurt us and those around us. There is this rut running through the world
—catching our tires and pulling us along
—a rut that runs into a ditch that is Death.
          But, My God! Our God! God, loved us even when we were dead, and God raised us up.
          God saved us from our disobedience and has taught us a new way
—has walked a different path,
one that leads us out of the ditch,
one that raises us out of that rut,
and runs right into our neighbor’s lives.
Right to places that have been placed before us so that we might live for, and with, each other.
          This new way is nothing short of re-learning how to live.
          It’s one big turn around,
one big ongoing U-turn
A turn we’ve biff on often enough,
but still we are called to follow.
          So often we think of the trajectory of our life as this: “We live, and then we die. Point A is life, and point B, sooner or later, is death.
          But that’s not the path we’re on
—that’s not the path we Christian are on.
We can say, in truth, we were dead, but now we are alive.
Point A was death, and point B, sooner or later, is life!
          You were dead and damned in Sin.
          Because of Christ, you are alive and saved.
Amen.
         
4.
          I sometimes wonder why we worry about eternal punishment.
Why do we look to the future for a sorting out of all things?
Why do we wait for judgment to be upon us? Look at how we live now. Look how we treat one another, how we choose to act and to live.
Our condemnation is right here—no not in total,
but consider all those things we hide from one another
—sometimes we even hide them from ourselves
consider all that is done in darkness. Consider those things we think to turn a blind eye to, those things in ourselves and in our neighborhoods and in the larger world, that we would rather pretend don’t exist.
          When the Light of Christ is shined there
—shined here
—shined on us
—those things we are not proud of skitter away, like Cockroaches running under a fridge when the light comes on.
The hidden, is revealed.
This brings both pain and healing—because often you are only as sick as your secrets.
          When the Light of Christ shines here…
When the light of Christ shines, it shimmers with those precious words,
“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish, but have eternal life.”
A light that shines like the sun after a long winter—
melting away the dirtied snow,
revealing the good God intended for His creation and his children.
Like the sun, giving good growth to long dormant seeds, and fresh leaves to trees long dead in winter’s grasp.
Amen!

Sunday, March 08, 2015

Christopher’s Medium Catechism



         In Luther’s Small Catechism he gives a brief, easily memorizable or even, in this day and age, tweetable (for the social media crowd), explanation of the basics of Christian faith, the 10 Commandments, the Creed, the Lord’s Prayer, Baptism, Holy Communion, and Confession.
         In his brief explanation of the 10 commandments, he hammers home that these commandments are about keeping us from idolatry—from making those things we fear, love, and trust, into false gods. In doing so, he reminds us of the one true God who is our Gracious Lord.
         Additionally, he expands the don’ts of the 10 commandments—just as Jesus does in Matthew’s Gospel “You’ve heard it said thou shall not kill, I say don’t even get angry.”
         Finally, in Luther’s Small Catechism he adds a positive command to each negative one—in other words, “Don’t just refrain from the evil, but also do the good.”

        Luther also wrote a Large Catechism. In addition to exploring more deeply what it means to fear, love, and trust—in addition to widening the negative and pointing to the positive—he also highlights Jewish practices at the time of Moses—using the best learning of Luther’s age,
 And pointing, sometimes very sharply, to how these command are to be lived out in the society of Luther’s day.

         So, today, I would like to present a hybrid between Luther’s Small and Large Catechism—not too large nor too small—sort of a goldilocks and the three bears kind of thing—a “Just right” Catechism—a Medium Catechism.
Today I would like to present, “Christopher’s Medium Catechism.”
Let us pray

You shall have no other gods before me.
         It all stands and falls here. The other 9 commandments are moot, if we’ve not grappled with this first one. The measure of our actions is simply this, “How are they a response to God’s freely given gift of life to us?”
         You see, we easily declare idolatry to be an ancient thing—or something practiced in far off temples—a relic of an idea with no practical application these days… but that is not so.
         Ask yourself this:
What do you fear—what goes bump in your night?
What do you respect, above all other things?
When stuff hits fan, and you are hard pressed between a rock and a hard place, Where do you turn?
Those answers, dear sisters and brothers, are your idol.
         Because, there is One who has told us “be not afraid.” One who earned our respect through His humility and His grace. One to whom we can always turn. The one true God found in Christ Jesus our Lord.
         And so, be on guard against idolatry yes, but even that prohibition is grounded in the positive, that God has freed you to live life unafraid, trusting in him, who loves you deeply.

You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain.
         We humans are creatures of clay, and have unclean lips—thus it is dangerous when we speak about God—God, who alone is not an idol, God who alone is Holy
—we might speak in such a way that we create a false god out of the one true God.
         We might cloak a lie in God’s name.
We might hide those things, which are sinful under a cloud of piety.
Our greed, our lusts, our envy, our violence and our strife, done in God’s name—and thus done in the name of a false god.
Think, of course, of those fanatics who murder and maim in the name of God—it is wickedness and idolatry.
Think too of those preachers of false gospels—gospels of escape and gospels of prosperity, which dishonor Christ, who did not escape, but entered into human hurt
—Christ of whom it is said, “to gain Christ is to lose the whole world.”
         To honor God’s name, we ought to call upon God in all times of need, and pray to God, and praise God with our lips and in our lives.

Remember the Sabbath day, and keep it holy.
         I’ve preached to you all about the Sabbath before. Sabbath is about rest, liberation, and holiness.
         Sabbath is a time that ought to be “good… for nothing.” Good in and of itself—not clogged up with cares and the frantic pace of the rest of the week. Truly a time to rest.
         Sabbath is also about liberation, acts of kindness and justice are part of living in the holiness of God’s time—such acts honor God’s love of everything God has created.
         Sabbath, finally, is holy in and of itself, dragging us into the reality of God though our worship together, where we receive the cherished promises of God.
         What does this have to do with fearing, loving, and trusting, you might ask—well, what keeps you up at night?
What keeps you from rest, from service of neighbor, and from worshipping and receiving the promises of God?
Sabbath exposes all of those—points out our idolatries.

Honor your father and your mother.
         As you may know, I insist parents attend confirmation class with their children… and for some reason, when we get to this command, the parents are overjoyed.
         It’s a very practical commandment, and one that follows Luther’s attack on all the idols that we put our fear, love, and trust in.
         It is from our parents, and all those who raise us, that we learn what is dangerous and what is safe. It is from them that we establish, or don’t establish, a sense of love and trust.
         We’re like little sponges and what we sop up will enter into our lifeblood for the rest of our lives—our basis for fear, love, and trust, are established in childhood.
         For good and ill, all authority figures shape our views of God—thus we ought to not only honor them, but also pray that they, while filled with foibles and folly, might reflect, on occasion at least, the one true authority, the one true parent of us all—that they might reflect at least a little of God’s authority, which is found in humility and weakness.

You shall not kill
         Christ takes this command, and raise it to great heights, saying, “All who are angry at a sibling, or curse them, are guilty.”
         We should instead spend our days giving life to our neighbor—Luther says following this one commandment would be a full time job. Being life giving is a lifelong task.

You shall not commit adultery
         There are many relationships we will have in life; our relationship with our spouse will likely be the deepest.
         Yes, there will be ups and downs—perhaps you will cycle from lust, love, loathing, and back to lust. Perhaps it won’t live up to a romance novel or all those romantic comedies—but, I would remind you, holding real people up to such standards is idolatry too.
         Marriage is a place where trust is formed, or broken. If we cannot trust our spouse—can we trust anyone?
—such a break can deform so many of our relationships, even our relationship with God, after all, marriage can be a metaphor for that relationship, the relationship between God and God’s people.
         This is why we ought to honor those who struggle to love one another and trust one another with their whole lives
—why we ought to support trust and trustworthiness in relationships
—why we ought to build up our neighbor’s marriages.

You shall not steal.
         Luther is a little scary on this point… he states that if every thief were hung there would be no one left on the earth.
         Theft, is not just pocketing soap and not paying, or even knocking over a bank.
         It’s gaining other people’s things by a multitude of means.
Tipping the scale when weighing things,
selling an inferior product, or price gouging.
Not giving 100% at work, not paying people enough to live on.
Buying things that cause the suffering of others.
         Pretty soon we’re all on the gallows, and forced to swallow a hard truth—none of these things—not one of them—can we take with us… As that country song says, “I’ve never seen a hearse with a trailer hitch.” Theft is ultimately trusting, fearing, or loving things, instead of loving people and loving God.
         We ought to protect the integrity of all our neighbor has, and work to better their livelihood.

You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.
         Any time we wield our tongue against another human being as if it was a weapon, we’ve broken this commandment.
         This is doubly so when we do it from the shadows of anonymity. When we gossip about others from the darkness, we defame and dishonor them. Any claim we make about someone else, we should be willing to defend in the court of law, with the danger of libel and perjury pointed against us.
         And it is so much more complex now—what of social media? Is “re-tweeting” something that proves false, a crime? Is “Liking” a lie on facebook, an offense?
         Our tongue wagging and our typing, both tempt us toward sin. I pray we train them to only talk well of our neighbor, and defend them from all defamation, that we might interpret all they do in the best possible light.

You shall not covet your neighbor’s house, or household.
         These last two commandments knock any self-righteousness out from under us. We might look to the first eight, and pretend that we’ve never broken a single one, but this pushes the breaking of the commandments into our hearts and imaginations.
Have you coveted any of those things you did not steal,
 or wished someone dead who you did not kill,
or lusted after someone’s wife but never acted on that impulse,
or thought of dishonoring your parent, but kept quiet about it?
Did any of those breaches of the Law cross your mind or fill your heart with hope?
         Additionally, I would venture to guess, if you own a TV, you are unable to not covet. The average American watches 8 hours of commercials a week—and what are commercials, but a continuous call to covet?

In conclusion.
Ask yourself these questions:
What idols does an honest reflection upon these commandments reveal?
How can you live your life as a joyful response to God’s grace?
Who is your neighbor and how can you serve them?

And know this:
God has freed you to live life unafraid, trusting in him who loves you deeply, Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.

Sunday, March 01, 2015

Sermon: Abraham’s faith, and our own

         Today, we read in Romans 4, Paul’s unique interpretation of the Faith of Abraham. He goes to the 15th chapter of Genesis and considers a timeline of Abraham’s faith…
he notes that the father of the faith, Abraham, lived centuries before the time of Moses and the giving of the Law.
         More than that, Abraham is made right with God, before he is even circumcised.
         In fact, Paul points out, Abraham receives the promise of God, on account of his trust in that promise. That he believed in God who gives life to the dead—that is, God gives a child to one who is impotent and one who is barren.
         And there Paul pivots.
Paul then points to us and points out that we Christians too receive the promises of God,
are made right with God,
because of our belief in God, who gives life to the dead.
That is our connection-point to Abraham—that is what makes us children of Abraham—Justification by Faith, apart from the Law or any work of our own,
is what connects us to Abraham’s faith.

         Now, as a rule I don’t read Hebrew Scriptures the way Paul does here in Romans—it often disrupts the integrity of the text—it doesn’t let Genesis be Genesis, or Jews be Jews.
         But, today, I’d like us to try on Abraham’s faith for size, and compare it to our own. Not to dismiss the Jewish tradition, or do any permanent damage to Genesis (not that it is within my paltry mortal powers to do so), but to hear the faith anew, to see Abraham’s faith, and our own, again.
         To hear the ways in which:
God claims Abraham,
Answers Abraham,
and stays in relationship with Abraham.
         To hear as well, of God’s claiming us, answering us, and staying in relationship with us.
Let us pray

         God calls Abraham out of Ur. He takes him out of the East and brings him to a new land in the West. Abraham leaves all that he knows—it’s stripped away from him… and as anyone who has moved a time or two knows, a new location calls for a new identity.
You get to recreate yourself when you move—people only know you from the time they lay eyes on you, you are something of a blank slate, a new person…
or as happens in Abraham’s case, God recreates him, presents him in a new place, a blank slate for God to write God’s blessings upon, that he might be a blessing to others.
Abraham can tell others, “Hi, I’m Abraham, and God sent me here.”… and that’s who he is.
         And then later, as we read in today’s lesson, God even erases Abraham’s name and writes him a new one
—he replaces the name Abram with Abraham—“You will be the father of a multitude of nations.” And Sarai, became, Sara, Princess—for from her will come nations and kings.
         See, their origin and their identity, are from God—that is part of the Faith of Abraham.

         We will also find Abraham bargaining with God, hoping to save a city, doomed for destruction. He is willing to call upon God again and again, pleading to God with prayers of intercession.
         We will also find Abraham unable to believe, and so will ask for a sign that God’s audacious promises are true.
And God responds, by cutting a covenant with him.
Literally.
Cutting.
He takes some critters and cuts them up, and walks between them. In the ancient world such a thing would be done by both parties—signifying the consequences if this promise is broken
—but in this case God alone walks the bloody line—God alone agrees to pay the price if the promise is broken. God gives to Abraham this gracious sign of his promise to him.
         See, risky requests, pleading and proof of the promise—they too are part of the Faith of Abraham.

         Now, this whole relationship between God and Abraham gets started with a promise of Land in a particular place, Children by a particular woman, and Blessings… and with the noticeable exceptions that I have already outlined, the majority of the Abraham Story is Abraham endangering these promises… Abraham doing seemingly everything in his power
to lose his land,
to be childless,
and to thwart any blessings that might come his way.
         God promises Land, and Abraham leaves the land promised to him and lays low in Egypt and refuses to take land when offered to him.
         God promises Children, and Abraham gives his wife away to another man for marriage, not once, but twice.
         He tries to make his Servant, his Nephew, and his son by another mother, into his heirs
—instead of waiting for the promised son.
         He sends that first son off to die, not once, but twice. Then, when Sarah bears him a son after such a long wait, he takes the kid up a mountain to sacrifice him to the God who provided the child, who offered him the son.
         God promises blessing, and Abraham’s son Isaac was tricked out of it, and then Abraham’s one grandson gives it away twice, and the other steals it and leaves the land.
         In short, nothing.
Nothing.
Not one thing Abraham does secures the promises of God.
It’s only God’s constant faithfulness to His word
—only God keeping the relationship going
—only God protects the promise, and bears the brunt of its weight.
         God’s ongoing faithfulness—that too is part of the Faith of Abraham.

         Abraham’s faith involves:
Being claimed completely by God,
Calling on God,
Receiving a sign,
And ultimately it rests on God’s unwavering commitment.

         So too it is with us Christians
—all these things point to our own faith as well.
         We are claimed completely by God
…Hopefully we see clearly that our origin is from God, and hopefully we cling to the name we have received from God—that in Baptism we are made to be God’s Children.
         For that matter, one of the things we do when we take up the Cross, is we give over our multitude of identities and become identified with the crucified one.
         We call on God
…Hopefully we can follow Luther’s advice, and call upon God in every need, rubbing God’s promises in God’s ears, and interceding on behalf of our sisters and brothers, and the whole hurting world.
         We receive a sign
…Hopefully we are regularly fed with the bread of life
—Holy Communion
—a sign of God’s promise made solid for our sake
—a sign of God’s covenant with us
—of Christ broken to mend our break with God and with one another.
         Our faith ultimately rests on God’s unwavering commitment
Especially in this Lenten season, we recognize and repent of our threats to God’s promise. We trust not in our own merit, but instead in the merciful works of God.
In so far, as we are claimed by God
In so far, as we call upon Him.
In so far, as we receive a sign of promise from God.
In so far, as God’s ongoing faithfulness it our center.

Insofar as all that is true, we may say ours too is the faith of Abraham. Amen.

Sunday, February 22, 2015

Sermon: The Self-Binding God


        In light of the recent beheading of 21 Coptic Christians and the rumors of organ harvesting coming out of the region controlled by Daesh, commonly called ISIS here in the states.
         In light of the attacks on cartoonists and Jews now in two different countries, France and Denmark.
         In light of Daesh burning a Jordanian pilot alive.
         In light of the thousands slaughtered in Iraq and Syria.
         In light of the attempted Genocide of the Yazidi.
         In light of the beheading of Journalists and other foreigners.
         In light of the kidnapping of the two Bishops from Aleppo, now nearly 2 years ago.
          In light of all that, it’s worth considering again how these kind of things can be done in the name of God.

         Let us pray.

         When I first was reading the Bible on my own as a young kid, before I was firmly connected with a Church community or tradition, at night when I was supposed to be asleep, I would just randomly open up the Bible and read—this is how I rebelled against my parents as a 8 year old.
         Often times I ran into cool stories, Jesus getting the best of some Religious stick in the mud, or I ran into a cool proverbs that really made me think—it was great fun…
but sometimes I ran into some totally creepy stuff—The Book of Revelation, rules about menstrual blood, descriptions of situations when it is advisable to stone a person to death
—and the one that gave me nightmares for a good long time, was about the practice of Haram, the act of sacred destruction. When you conquer a village, take everything in it, both things and people, and put them to the flame.
Now, I would have read right past it, except it goes on and gives an example of when a soldier took some things and didn’t utterly destroy them. God gets mad at the people until the soldier is punished by joining the objects in the flames.

         And, if we get past the cute children’s story version of events we have about Noah—you know all those children’s arks with cute little Giraffes and Elephants and smiling Noah and family
—if you get past all that, the flood story is another one of those stories that could give a kid nightmares.
         Angels are boinking humans, humans are killing one another left, right, and center, so God flushes the whole experiment down the toilet.

         It must be stated that the first 12 chapters of Genesis are written as pre-history—essentially, “you’ve heard all these explanations of the world from other peoples, here’s a faithful reading of them, in light of the God we know.”
So, for example, “you’ve heard it said the god Marduke created earth by tearing apart a chaos dragon, well I say to you God isn’t a fighting God, God creates simply with his words.”
Likewise, as in today’s reading, “You’ve heard it said in the Epic of Gilgemesh, and elsewhere, that the gods were grumpy because humans are loud, so they tried to drown us all, and it was only because a human seduced a goddess that humans survived, but I say to you, the wickedness of humans brought about a just response, yet God was merciful and started again with a new covenant, a new relationship, with humans and the earth—God doesn’t give up on us.”
         So, when you read vast swaths of scripture it’s worth noting what they’re being written in response to… None the less, it’s gruesome, “all flesh cut off,” the deadly bow of God.

         And as you all know there are plenty of times when the faithful have not put down the bow.
         Because I believe it might be a useful analogy to help us understand what’s currently going on in the Middle East, I would like us to think back for a few moments to the period during, and immediately after, Luther’s Reformation.
         Before Luther, Jan Hus was burnt at the stake for offering his parishioners both bread and wine at communion.
         If Luther hadn’t been taken into hiding after his famous declaration at his trial, “Here, I stand, I can do no other, God help me. Amen,” that would have been his fate as well. Some early Lutherans were in fact killed in just such a fashion.
         John Calvin, the founder of Presbyterianism, burnt Michael Servetus alive for not believing in the Trinity or in child baptism.
         Lutherans carried out the persecution of Mennonites.

         In general, Christians of all sorts took up the Sacred Bow against one another,
The Faithful were used by secular governments to further national ends,
and likewise, the religious used secular governments to further their religious ends.
         From 1555, when the Peace of Augsburg claimed to settle the question of religious persecution, until 1648 at the Peace of Westphalia, almost 100 years—inter-religious war depopulated Germany, and killed, by some estimates, 12 million Europeans.
All in the name of God.
         For that matter, it wasn’t for another 200 years that, at the 1st Vatican Council in 1870, the Pope gave up his claim to secular power.
        
         Now this is just me talking, but it seems like one of the big questions for “The West” and all those governing authorities in our country, since the Iranian Revolution in ‘79, or perhaps the Lockerbie Bombing ‘88, or maybe the bombing of the USS Cole in 2000, is this:
         “How do you navigate, and/or contain, the Islamic equivalent of the European Wars of Religion, in an Era of Globalization, Mass Immigration, the Internet, and Weapons of Mass Destruction.”
         Obviously I do not have a set of answers for you all, it’s way above my pay grade…
This is why we pray for those who govern nations, especially our own; they have an unenviable job.

         All of these acts of violence and destruction in the name of God, ought to be Anathema—denounced, condemned, and cursed.
         Because God puts down the bow. God binds God’s-self with a vow, that never again will God destroy the world, never again will God take up that bow.
Think of that, God limiting God’s self!

         This is the true story of the faith, it is the hope always on the lips of those who preach the Gospel
—that God favors mercy over justice. God limit’s God’s self, for our sake.

         During the season of Lent we’ll see this again and again in the readings from the Hebrew Scriptures. God will say:
“Okay, I renewed all of creation after the flood… and that didn’t work for you all, so I’ll work through Abraham and his family.”
“Okay, you guys screwed that up too… I’ll lay down 10 basic rules for you all.”
“Okay, you’re still complaining in the wilderness… I’ll create a batch of miracles to save you from yourselves.”
“Okay, this still isn’t working… I’ll jam my covenant into your hearts, so you can’t find it to break it.”

And even then, it continues, until God sends Jesus, his son, who continually forgives us.
Even then, we kill him.
And even then, God provides for us, taking the death of Jesus as payment for all of our sins!

         And surely that would be enough, but God continues this trajectory of mercy over justice, as we read in that weird bit in 1st Peter.
         Christ descends to hell, preaching even to the Spirits bound in chains there! Jesus ripping apart hell itself! That’s the power of the Word of God.

         Think of it. If God tries to convert Djinns and Demons in the depths of hell, surely we can pray for the redemption of Daesh.
         In fact, a good place to start, might be to remind them, and us, of Noah’s words, as recorded in the Quran, the 71st chapter: “Ask forgiveness of your LORD. Indeed, He is ever a Perpetual Forgiver.”
        
         Yes, there is much violence done in the name of God.
Violence committed because God’s mercy is being ignored.
Yet truly, for the faithful, this is an impossible thing they do—to ignore God’s mercy,
Because God’s merciful acts are the linchpin of the entire story of Scripture.
God, merciful to Noah, Abraham, Moses, and Jeremiah.
God’s mercy shown in total, in Jesus’ righteous actions and words.
Jesus’ death, the ultimate act of self-limiting on God’s part.
Jesus’ descent to the dead to Harrow Hell and pull from the pit a people imprisoned.
And of course, that amazing act of God we prepare for, this Lenten season
—the Resurrection, which is God’s ultimate promise of mercy to us. Amen.