A Divine Conspiracy: Reflections on John 20.1-18

RCL Easter A [i]

5 April 2026

 

Saint Helen’s Anglican Church

Vancouver BC

LISTEN to the Sermon here. 

            When I am driving home after an evening meeting, I often listen to CBC Radio One.  It’s the rare evening when the programming doesn’t introduce me to new ideas or to a new book or a new person of interest.  Just this past Monday, as I was driving home after visiting my wife at UBC Hospital following her knee surgery, I was listening to a re-broadcast of Tom Power’s interview of the US actor, Sterling K. Brown. 

            Tom remarked on how Brown could talk about the challenges he has faced and the disappointments he has experienced with an attitude of optimism and positivity.  Brown first responded by sharing a brief bit of his family’s history as providing the foundation for this attitude.  But it’s what he said next that almost caused me to stop in the middle of the East-West Connector to write his words down.  Brown said that he was able to maintain this attitude because he believed that there was a divine conspiracy for his success.  Let me say that again.  Brown believes that there is a divine conspiracy for his success.

            He quickly added that his success does not require the failure of others.  It does not mean a zero-sum world in which he sits on top of the heap.  ‘Success’, in Brown’s thoughts, means finding joy in becoming more fully the person he was created and is called to become and to be.

            Friends, the moment I heard that phrase I knew it held my Easter message to you.  There is a divine conspiracy for our success.  While I do not doubt that there is an evil conspiracy to undermine the purposes and works of God, there is a more powerful and, I believe, an ultimately more successful conspiracy for our salvation, for our becoming more fully alive in the likeness of Christ.

            This divine conspiracy for our success forms the foundation for the closing chapters of the Gospel according to John.  During his final meal with his disciples, Jesus tells them, “Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father.” [ii]  Later he speaks about the promise of the Spirit, the Advocate, ‘the One who speaks for another’, and tells them that the Spirit will guide into all truth those who love Jesus, those who obey his commandments and who follow in his path. [iii]  In his final prayer to God, Jesus prays that the unity he has with God will be the unity that Jesus’ disciples have with one another. [iv]

Then comes the moment outside the tomb.  The disciple whom Jesus loved recognizes that Jesus has risen but does not yet know what this will mean for him and for Jesus’ followers.  It is Mary Magdalene, weeping for her loss, who is the first witness to this divine conspiracy for our success.  I have loved this passage and preached on it many times.  But this is the first time that I listened more closely to what Jesus tells Mary what to do:  “But go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your father, to my God and your God.’” [v]

            This is the first time that I’ve realized that Jesus does not tell her to share the news of the resurrection.  The beloved disciple already believes that Jesus has risen.  By the time Mary meets the Eleven, they already know that the tomb is empty.  Jesus tells Mary to share the news that he is ascending to resume that unity with God that he had before his earthly ministry.  With the ascension the Spirit, the One who will lead us into all truth, the One who will enable to do greater things than Jesus, will soon be unleashed to put the divine conspiracy for our success into action.

            As central as the resurrection is to our faith as Christians, its message is not primarily about life after death.  It is the sign that the divine conspiracy begun in creation and renewed in the ministry of Jesus will now, through the work of the Spirit, reach its ultimate phase.  Through the witness of the followers of the risen Christ, the world will see that the conspiracies of “the evil powers of this world which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God” are ultimately destined to fail.  Why?  Because through the Spirit of truth, we are able to see what Desmond Tutu once wrote:

 

Goodness is stronger than evil;

love is stronger than hate;

light is stronger than darkness;

life is stronger than death;

victory is ours, through God who loves us. [vi]

 

            Friends, it is easy to despair these days.  All one needs to do is watch the news or listen to the rants of leaders who seem to lack any empathy or see how the gap between those who have an abundance of resources and those who do not continues to grow.  But today is not a day for despair.  Today is a day to celebrate this divine conspiracy for our success.  Sometimes, perhaps most of the time, we may doubt that this conspiracy is afoot.  But the prophet Habakkuk tells us, “For there is still a vision for the appointed time; it speaks of the end and does not lie.  If it seems to tarry, wait for it; it will surely come; it will not delay.” [vii]

            Friends, hear the good news of Easter:  There is a divine conspiracy for our success.  These are holy words; this is holy wisdom.  Thanks be to God.

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[i] Jeremiah 31.1-6; Psalm 118.1-2, 14-24 (BAS); Acts 10.34-43; John 20.1-18.

 

[ii] John 14.12 (NRSVue).

 

[iii] John 16.13 (NRSVue).

 

[iv] John 17.20-24 (NRSVue).

 

[v] John 20.17b (NRSVue).

 

[vi] “Goodness Is Stronger than Evil” in Evangelical Lutheran Worship (2006), Hymn #721.

 

[vii] Habukkuk 2.3 (NRSVue).

 

Seeing Is Believing: Reflections on John 9.1-41

 

RCL Lent 4A [i]

15 March 2026

 

Saint Helen’s Anglican Church

Vancouver BC

Click HERE to listen to the Sermon.

 

            My late colleague Lloyd Gaston taught New Testament at Vancouver School of Theology for many years.  He was the only person I’ve ever met who could make a pun in three languages in one sentence.  But he was also a person who searched the Scriptures deeply and he was and still is respected by his students.

            One of the assignments he gave to his students was what he called ‘From Text to Sermon’.  In this assignment a student was to dig deeply into a particular text and, by digging deeply, determine what were the questions or insights that needed to be laid before a congregation in a sermon.

            Today I’m going to just that.  The story of the healing of the man born blind has more going on than may be apparent at first glance.  And, as I did last week, I want to dig into John’s way of telling a story and leave a few questions for us to ponder in the weeks left to us before the lighting of the Easter Candle.

 

Sin and Suffering

            In the first part of today’s gospel reading the disciples ask a question rooted in their Jewish identity:  ‘Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” [ii]  At this time illness, suffering and disability were often seen as the consequences of moral failure.  Some Jewish teachers pointed to the rivalry between Jacob and Esau in their mother’s womb as evidence that sin could precede birth. [iii]  It must be said that linking suffering to moral failure is not limited to the past; there are voices that consider poverty, homelessness and addiction to be someone’s ‘fault’.

            But Jesus is having none of this speculation:  “Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him.” [iv]  Jesus’ answer could lead us to try to ponder why God would make someone suffer, but that would be a conversation of great length.  What Jesus is saying to his disciples is this:  This is not a time to reflect on the relationship between sin and the human condition.  This is a time to consider how this man’s blindness can be an occasion to display God’s love and compassion, key elements of Jesus’ mission and ministry.

            So, one avenue for a sermon today would be this.  How can we turn the problems of our communities into occasions of love and compassion rather than debates about morality and blame?  How can we, both personally and communally, “do the works of the one who sent (us)” in a world where night seems to creep up on us more frequently than we might like? [v]

 

Crossing the Boundary

            For the Jewish community in the time of Jesus, maintaining their identity was a daily struggle.  They were surrounded by greedy and hostile neighbours.  Their land had lost any semblance of autonomy and had been forcibly incorporated into the Roman empire as a province under a foreign governor.  There were three keys to Jewish identity:  circumcision, food laws and Sabbath. [vi]  

            So, imagine the response of the religious authorities to Jesus’ healing someone on the Sabbath by means of making a salve, an act of work on the day dedicated to not working, a challenge to one of the cornerstones of Jewish identity.  We might be tempted to consider their objection petty, by saying, “The ends justify the means.”  But do we not all have traditions that we value or things that we treasure as sustaining our identity?  How do we react when those traditions and treasures are challenged?

 

Now we see

            When I began theological college, I was opposed to the ordination of women.  When I graduated from theological college, I was no longer an opponent.  When I came to Vancouver School of Theology, I was opposed to the full inclusion of LGBTQ disciples of Christ in the ordained ministry of the church.  At General Synod 1995 in Ottawa, I publicly declared that I had changed my mind and was now an ally.

            What happened?  You all know the saying, ‘Seeing is believing.”  In theological college I witnessed the depth of pastoral wisdom and generosity of spirit in the women who were my classmates.  I saw the essence of ordained leadership and I believed.  At Vancouver School of Theology, I witnessed the depth of pastoral wisdom and generosity of spirit in our LGBTQ students and the covenant of faithfulness in their relationships.  I saw and I believed.

            Throughout John’s gospel, ‘seeing’ means ‘believing’.  For John sin is not a moral category of behaviour but a theological category about one’s response to the revelation of God in Jesus. [vii]  When we see God in action, regardless of whether that action fits within our expectations or not, it is, in John’s language, ‘sin’ not to recognize it and to give thanks.  Where might we have been blind to God’s activity in our lives and in the lives of others?  Where might we have been quick to dismiss something rather than acknowledge it as a sign of God at work in us, around us and, I might say, despite us?

 

Let us pray.

Creator and Healer, root of all goodness,

working your Sabbath will in the chaos of our life:

teach us the insight that gives true judgement

and praises you wherever you are found,

making miracles from spit and mud;

through Jesus Christ, the Son of earth.

Amen.

 

 

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[i] 1 Samuel 16.1-13; Psalm 23; Ephesians 5.8-14; John 9.1-41.

 

[ii] John 9.2b (NRSVue).

 

[iii] Gail O’Day, “John” in The New Interpreter’s Bible, vol. IX (1995), 653.

 

[iv] John 9.3 (NRSVue).

 

[v] John 9.4 (NRSVue).

 

[vi] Note on John 5.9b-10 (NRSVue) in The New Interpreter’s Study Bible (2003).

 

[vii] Comment on John 9.1-41 in The New Interpreter’s Study Bible (2003).

 

Belonging Before Agreement: A Conversation in 'Pray Tell'

 

It was my privilege to be in conversation with Trevor and Al from Saint Matthew's Anglican Church in Abbotsford as part of the Parish's 'Pray Tell' series.

Click HERE to watch Part 1 of the conversation.

A View from the Vicar: Healing Our Blindness

John 9.1-41 is the story of the healing by Jesus of the man born blind. As is true of John's stories, it's not just the content that's important, it's how John tells the story. In this case, the healing leads to an investigation and the investigation leads to a moment of choice -- to see God at work or not to see God at work. This story, set in the context of the conflict within the Christian Jewish and non-Christian Jewish communities of the first century encourages us to ask how we conduct ourselves in the conflicts that arise within our communities andwhat traditions might blind us to God's saving activity.

Click HERE to watch Richard's video.

Going Through Samaria: Reflections on John 4.5-42

 

RCL Lent 3A [i]

8 March 2026

 

Parish of Saint Helen

Vancouver BC

Click HERE to listen to the Sermon.

 

            For more than five years I was an unofficial member of the support staff for my younger son’s rugby club and school rugby teams.  This role meant that I always kept blankets, towels, extra clothing, umbrellas and my Wellingtons in the back of my car.

            During the many car trips to and from games, the boys learned that I value the proper use of the English language.  So, to the question, ‘Can we go to McDonald’s?’, I always responded, ‘We can, but the right question is “May we?”.’  This and many other similar conversations have led my children’s friends to coin a new verb – ‘to leggett’ – which means ‘to insist on correct and accurate use of the English language’.  Just within the last year or so, one of my younger son’s friends was visiting and when, in the conversation I took a breath, he said, ‘Oh no!  He’s going to leggett!’

            It’s true.  I love language and value its careful use.  Language has the ability to explain something clearly or to deceive us deviously.  Language can heal our wounds or hurt us deeply.  Language can open windows onto the beauty and mystery of creation or can build walls to confine our imagination and limit us to the repetition of conventional certainties.

            Last week Jeffrey opened to us the grammar of the Gospel according to John.  He did so by looking carefully at the words and phrases used in the Gospel, especially those that bear more than one interpretation.  I am going to do a bit of the same today and then do something some people think should not be done in a sermon:  I am going to end with a question for each one of us to take home and ponder.

            We are probably familiar with the story of Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well.  It happens to be one of my favourite stories in all of the Scriptures.  Because of this story and several others in this Gospel, I once responded to the question, ‘If you could only take one Gospel with you, which one would you choose?’, I answered, ‘John’.  But, to understand this story, we need to read the verse that comes just before the first verse of today’s reading.  Before we read about Jesus arriving at the well outside the city of Sychar, the evangelist writes, “ . . . (Jesus) left Judea and started back to Galilee.  But he had to go through Samaria.” [ii]

            The thing is that Jesus did not have to go through Samaria to return north to Galilee.  There were any number of routes north that would permit him to avoid travelling through a region of Samaria.  So, we need to parse out the simple statement, ‘But he had to go . . . ‘.  As I read the thoughts of various commentators who have opinions on this passage, I finally came to agree with those who understand this simple statement to mean this:  Jesus must go to Samaria if he is going to be faithful to the One who sent him.  

            Going through Samaria has nothing to do with finding a safe or quick route home to Galilee.  Going through Samaria has everything to do with what God is seeking to accomplish in the ministry of Jesus of Nazareth.  This early part of the Gospel according to John is sometimes referred to as ‘the book of signs’ – the changing of water into wine at Cana and, in next week’s reading, the healing of a man born blind.  Jesus’ decision to travel through Samaria is another sign of who he is and what God is doing in the world through Jesus.

            What is the sign?  Jesus chooses to travel through Samaria, a region inhabited by people that the Jews considered collaborators with the Babylonian invaders six centuries earlier and who, because of intermarriage, had lost their link to genuine Jewishness.  Despite the devotion of the Samaritans to the first five books of Moses and their belief in the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, Jewish religious leaders considered Samaritan beliefs inferior at best, heretical at worst – a little bit like how some Roman Catholics feel about Anglicans.  Nothing is more fierce than a fight between close kin!

            By travelling through Samaria and then, as John tells us, spending two days in the neighbourhood teaching them, Jesus has crossed a boundary.  It becomes yet one more reason why the religious authorities in Jerusalem begin to worry about this itinerant rabbi from the north.  What are they to do with a man who is doing powerful things and dares to say, “ . . . the hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem.” [iii]  What are the authorities who are anxious to preserve the centrality of the Temple in Jerusalem to Jewish identity and faith with a man who says, “But the hour is coming and is now here when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father seeks such as these to worship him.” [iv]  But Jesus had to go through Samaria if he was to be faithful to the One who sent him.

            Jesus compounds his disregard for boundaries when he engages not just a Samaritan but a Samaritan woman in a serious theological discussion.  I love this woman.  Each time I hear this story, I have to stop myself from laughing out loud when, in response to Jesus telling her he has living water, she says, “Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep.” [v]  She actually has a claim to the title of ‘apostle’ – ‘one who is commissioned or sent with a message’ – when she goes into the city to share her experience with her neighbours and then invites them to meet him with, “Come and see . . . “. [vi]  But Jesus had to go through Samaria if he was to be faithful to the One who sent him.

            My friends, in a world where we see new tribalism rising to the left and to the right, where respect for diversity is dismissed as weak and threatening to the privileges of a few, where must we go if we are to be faithful to God?  In a world where the algorithms of social media are designed to channel us into like-minded groupings, where must we go if we are to be faithful to our baptismal promises?  At the heart of John’s gospel is the belief that the mission entrusted by God to Jesus is entrusted to us by the Spirit:  “Very truly, I tell you, the one who believes in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to the Father. I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.” [vii]

            So, where are the Samarias that God is asking us, whether as a community or in our personal lives and relationships, to travel?  It’s a good thing that we have a few more weeks of Lent to ponder this question before offering our answer in the light of the Easter candle.

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[i] Exodus 17.1-7; Psalm 95; Romans 5.1-11; John 4.5-42.

 

[ii] John 4.3-4 (NRSVue).

 

[iii] John 4.21b (NRSVue).

 

[iv] John 4.23 (NRSVue).

 

[v] John 4.11 (NRSVue).

 

[vi] John 4.29 (NRSVue).

 

[vii] John 14.12-14 (NRSVue).

 

A View from the Vicar: Going Through Samaria

 

The story of the Samaritan woman and Jesus meeting at a well in Samaria among one of my 'desert island' narratives. There is so much depth to the interplay between the woman and Jesus, Jesus and the disciples, Jesus and the Samaritans who come to listen to him. Some scholars suggest that the key is in verse 4: "But he had to go through Samaria." A quick look at the map will tell us that Jesus did not have to go. But he had to go if he was to be try to his mission -- to bring eternal life not just to the Jewish community but to those who were despised and socially oppressed.

Click HERE to listen to Richard's reflections.

A View from the Vicar: Where Deep Gladness Meets Greatest Hunger

 

I have always found Abram's response to God a story that requires some unpacking. He is comfortable and wealthy, but he is ready at a moment's notice to pack everything up and obey God's call to move to a far land. Our unpacking comes as we try to understand how to distinguish a call from God from all the other voices that call to us. As I often do, I turned to Frederick Buechner for guidance.

Click HERE to watch my video.