Christ, Presence for All Time

Hebrews 9:24-28 “24 For Christ did not enter a sanctuary made by human hands, a mere copy of the true one, but he entered into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God on our behalf. 25 Nor was it to offer himself again and again, as the high priest enters the Holy Place year after year with blood that is not his own; 26 for then he would have had to suffer again and again since the foundation of the world. But as it is, he has appeared once for all at the end of the age to remove sin by the sacrifice of himself. 27 And just as it is appointed for mortals to die once, and after that the judgment, 28 so Christ, having been offered once to bear the sins of many, will appear a second time, not to deal with sin, but to save those who are eagerly waiting for him.”

Introduction

I know last week I might have been accused of offering a little too much context to our passage. I welcome your grace.

Today, still, we need context to this passage. We heard the opening words of Hebrews before and I want to take us back there for a moment to remind us where all of this talk of Christ’s supremacy comes from, where the context of ritual and priesthood arise out of. Hear again the opening verses of Hebrews 1.

Hebrews 1:1-4 “1 Long ago God spoke to our ancestors in many and various ways by the prophets, 2 but in these last days he has spoken to us by a Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, through whom he also created the worlds. 3 He is the reflection of God’s glory and the exact imprint of God’s very being, and he sustains all things by his powerful word. When he had made purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high, 4 having become as much superior to angels as the name he has inherited is more excellent than theirs.”

Christ sustains all things by his powerful word. He is a reflection of God’s glory and the exact imprint of God’s very being.

Christ with us is how we encounter God — no longer through ritual sacrifices, no longer through priestly arbiters. Christ’s body, living out here on earth among us is where we witness God’s presence and lovingkindness, God’s restoration and hope.

Do you look around the world and wonder where Jesus is?

Do you wake up in the morning and look out the window and hope to see a glimmer or reminder of God’s presence?

When I get discouraged, it feels more difficult to find where Christ is, but what I realize is that mostly, it’s about me forgetting to look in the right ways, to witness Christ not in glorious shining magnificence, but rather finding Christ in the simple, mundane, regular life of Christ’s church. Christ’s body is the church and we see it here, among our gathered body.

I think we are reluctant sometimes to accept how beloved and called out we are as the church. We like to diminish our place in God’s kingdom — oh, I/we are not that important. And let’s be honest, we know that we are not perfect. I would be happy to share with anyone who needs to hear it, a list of my faults and the struggles of our church community. We are Christ’s body, Christ’s people, but we think because we are human that we are not worth very much. NO! This is not true and it is not the good news!

The good news is that we are beloved, deeply graced and gazed upon with deep deep compassion and care. The body of Christ, as the church, is chosen to stand apart from all other Creation. Not (on the other end of the spectrum) as perfect, by any stretch of the imagination. But rather, beloved and known by the Creator. Flawed and scarred like Christ. Illusive and shifting and moving like the Spirit. We, Christ’s church and body, live out the beauty of redeemed humanity together. We do so imperfectly, but under the incredibly grace of God’s love. Whoo…this is sweet, sweet news.

I love the Church. I love churches. And I love the people God calls into them. Good thing I’m in the right line of work!

I’ve been blessed to have the opportunity to travel a bit through Europe and visit some magnificent historic churches.

I’ve visited the Vatican and attended worship at St. Peter’s. The immensity of that church is astounding. I will always recall the enormous pillars that lead through the sanctuary to the altar. Their height and width are striking and they draw you forward into the place of worship.

I have also visited Westminster Abbey in London. Similarly immense, this cathedral honors many of the saints who have come before, both religious and secular, in British history and beyond. While some church buildings are stark, this place is packed full of paintings and statues, memorials to the great cloud of witnesses, God’s messy, broken, redeemed people.

I will also always remember singing sacred choral music in a dark, candlelit Eastern Orthodox church in Bulgaria with Western Washington University’s choir. Where St. Peter’s and Westminster display the grandeur of God, this dark orthodox sanctuary embraces the mystery and closeness of God, in candlelight, icons, and darkness.

There are the ruined ancient sites of worship, like the Rock of Cashel and Abbey at Clonmacnoise in Ireland. While their place in the daily worshipping lives of the people has faded, these places stand as monuments to the long road of faith, the earthy reality that our places of worship intermingle with God’s created, wild world. Overgrown rock walls and empty window frames that look out onto green fields mark these ancient sites and hold their history of faithfulness.

And these are all sanctuaries made by human hands.

I’m also so grateful for my upbringing in the church. I’ve told many of you this: the church I grew up in, Calvin Presbyterian Church in Shoreline, WA, has this same rib bone and ship hull vaulted ceiling, like we have here at St. James. When I walk into this sanctuary, made by human hands, I feel at home.

It is in these places, but certainly not confined only to them, that we conduct our worship, the practices of sustaining and growing in our faith. We come together to fellowship, to share life together, to pray for and with one another. These rituals, these practices, get repeated every time we gather. And we practice our faith not because we can ever get it right, but because we, as the beautiful, beloved, flawed and imperfect people of God are tenders of an eternal flame, the light of Christ, as it is living out here and now.

Our passage reminds us that Christ died once for all time. We no longer have to offer ritual sacrifices like the priests of old in order to delay God’s inevitable judgement. NO! Rather, in Christ, the powers of death, that would require this sacrifice, have been undone, defeated, destroyed. Or, another way of saying it, is that God’s love and restoration have already been fulfilled in Christ’s life, death, and resurrection.

Remember a while back, when we were looking at Creation care, that we talked about this concept of creation being the body of God? We can look at the cosmos and see the manifestation of God’s body, which stitches together all matter and being and shows us who God is.

In the same way, we might think of the movement, the inspiration, and the breath of God, the Spirit, as the living manifestation of the Holy Spirit, the body of the Spirit.

Finally, in keeping with this theme, we find the the church and the physical manifestation of the bread and cup, as well as our gathered personhood, as the body of Christ. When we gather in Christ’s name, we are the body of Christ. No, we are not Christ — we are the sign and symbol and manifestation of what Christ looks like in form and function, here and now.

We become the living body of Christ. Our churches, our places of gathering, are the sites of resurrection. Do you believe this?

So why do we do what we do, as the church?

To bear witness to Christ’s loving gift, Christ breaking the powers of death, once and for all.

We live as the church in response.

We live as a people who have come to find out that the powers of sin and death no longer hold sway over us. We exist to be a sign to the world of this good news. Hey! Death and sacrifice and sin and sadness: they are all undone in Christ! Where do you encounter Christ? In his living, gathered body, here, now in our midst.

Not to get to self focused, it’s not like we have a monopoly on this good news as just one church. No — the good news is that Christ’s body is manifest all around the world in so many beautiful, diverse, unique expressions. Christ’s body is big! Christ’s body is wide! And we can enter into these common sanctuaries and know that we are gathered with Christ’s body, no matter where we find ourselves.

Our passage states that Christ’s gift of sacrifice, to us, is to remove the power of sin and death. Do you hear this? We, the living body of Christ in the world today, now live as well as ambassadors of that same power over sin and death. We are, the church, meant to set people free, to liberate and restore all creation.

This is where it is all headed. This is why we praise and worship and give of ourselves — because we are participating in a total reorder of all things, stepping beyond and dismantling the powers of death and offering life in its fullness in our life together and our work in the world.

Let’s close with the last two verses of our passage. The author of Hebrews tells us that mortals, us, humans, are meant to die once and then be judged. This can sound ominous, especially after we’ve heard all this great news about how we are the living body of Christ as the church.

The passage goes on to say that Christ will appear a second time to receive those who await him. How does this all fit together?

We die. And we are judged.

But here’s the twist, the kicker, the great big reveal — the judgement and the death…we already know what happens. We know that we receive grace. In Christ, as Christ’s living body, we are restored to life again. So yes, we will die. We will lose what we have in earthly form. And at the same time, we will receive the presence of Christ, the resurrection of our bodies, the restoration of all that we are meant to be. We rely on this and have been promised it. Death may take us, pain may still arise — but it is undone, holds no power, because we are in Christ.

Think about all those churches, all those buildings. They’re grand visions of places to gather in Christ’s name. But they are also so faulty. And it is through this faulty, broken, restored reality that we find Christ’s love enduring in us. Christ works restoration through the faults. Christ is presence over and above all that death would seek to destroy. Christ, coming again and already here in us liberates all things to be restored to their fullness, made whole in Christ.

So, what does this mean for us? Well, we’re messy people. But we are also glorious, beloved, cared for. And our mess…it is made clean. The work is done, death has been overcome. Our buildings, our gatherings, our living witness to who Jesus is…this lead us all to receive grace and step forward into Christ’s presence here, now.

Our physical churches are built by human hands.

But who builds Christ’s Church? Who builds Christ’s body? Christ is building this with and in us. Christ is our builder, our cornerstone, the arch and altar and bread and cup. We come to participate in being remade, rebuilt, restored. Come, taste, see and be made new.

Amen.