Service for March 23 Third Sunday of Lent

“No I tell you, unless you repent,…”

I once helped a friend start a community farm in Pittsburgh Pennsylvania. He and his church became aware of some abandoned parcels of land in the neighborhood. we cleared weeds and trash, we also took soil samples and sent them away. We were sobered to find elevated lead levels in the soil. No matter where we or anyone planted in much of that town, we’d confront this consequence of 20th century coal-fired steel-making, leaded automotive fuel and building waste. And this was a neighborhood we people didn’t have the resources or the social power to get the those with power and resources to remedy the problem.

So rather than abandon the vision or the place, the church’s task to remediate the soil. We had to research means to remediate, like a remedy, remediate the soil, so that the neighborhood could more easily grow good food there. It can be done, and all the ways are expensive- it would take work, tools, treatments, money or time, and maybe all of them. Excavate the soil and replace it with new topsoil, treat the soil with expensive solvents and a sealed vacuum bag system, grow fungus or plants that can remove the lead, increase the humus content with lots of compost, which would be a kind of biochemical shield between plants and lead. Remediation would be a pretty big effort. We didn’t see US Steel knocking on our door to help. But he church and the people they came to work with, chose to follow the call of that effort, because that place and its people, made in God’s image, were worth it.

I thought about all this memory as I read the gospel passage this week, with its story of gardening, which Jesus tells to let the listeners consider that unless you repent... What do we mean by repent? What does Jesus mean by repent? The greek word means something like ‘to change your mind’ or ‘change your heart.’ A fundamental change in your outlook and understanding, what is worth pouring your time, money, attention, life energy into, how you look at and are with others and the world and yourself and God. There are two related hebrew words for repent. One means to comfort, to be sorry for, or regret something. Another, means to literally turn around. So, Repentance, to repent,means a change within us that embraces our whole being, and it changes what we do, how we do it.

And that change isn’t self-initiated. America loves self starters and go getters. Well, repentance means God is the one who starts all good things, and we are unashamed to be grateful recipients of that common gift. It means we live into the reality of God remediating, remedying, remediating the soil of our hearts and life. As people who receive and live from the remediation God undertakes in us and through, maybe we can even become people who do small things with great love.

Jesus tells a story about what it means to repent. Yes, we expect fruit! But there is a better way to do that. And that means remediation, an effort to tend, heal, repair, mend, nurture. It takes time, and patience and humility. The gardener meets the man who was so disappointed to find no fruit. He is overheated, demanding, very clear that the tree must but cut! The gardener meets that zeal, urgency, even rage.

“Sir!” You can imagine that the gardener has his attention now. Not too many gardener’s would address him like that. Imagine it… “Let it alone for one more year,… until I dig around it…, and put manure on it…this tree is worth it. and I know more about trees than you, speaking respectfully sir. this tree is worth it, that fruit would taste so good, and good things take time. And stop, think, for a minute-how would you feel when you take your grandkids out for a walk next spring and they ask “where is that fig tree we planted with you?”

And God graciously sees that you and I are worth it, and don’t we want to let God cause us to repent to turn around, change us, remediate us?

Sermon, RCL C, 3rd Lent, 3-23-25

The Rev. Evan G Clendenin

Service for March 16 Second Sunday of Lent

Sermon of March 16, 2025                                                                   Second Sunday of Lent

 Who saw the lunar eclipse on Thursday? What was it like? I like some of you went out of my house, and to be honest, the promise of seeing something new and wonderful took me out not only of my house and my usual bedtime routine, but especially out of some of my own worries about jobs, housing, family, the political situation. And what did I see? The bright, silvery full moon, with a little brush of shadow, them a greater patch growing darker, a field of shadow creeping across those great basins on the moons surface. The shadow increased and the light sliver of moon grew more intense, like a glowing burst of light, then even that was gone, and through binoculars it was dark and glowing.

And God speaks in such sights, and the wonder of such a moment expands into our being. When you and I are afraid, anxious, apprehensive about what is to come next in our lives, our work, our families, our church, God takes us out to see with new eyes, new heart, new hope. God can give us a wondrous sight of what is already right there-moon, stars, salamanders, the face of a neighbor, a human struggling to get by like you do.

In such a moment of fear, God speaks to Abram that constant message of scripture ‘be not afraid.’ How does God say it? God has been listening to Abram’s anxious complaints, hears his griefs about life and fears about what is to come. God doesn’t tell him ‘stop complaining,’ or ‘think positive.’ No, God takes him out to look up at the night sky.

God takes Abram out, out of the whirring fears of his heart, to a place where he can see things-himself, others, the world, God,-anew. “Look toward heaven, look at the stars, can you even count them?” God takes Abram out of one land, to lead him to a new land. God takes the children of israel out of slavery in Egypt into freedom and living as a community trusting in God day by day. In Jesus Christ God takes us out of all athat binds us with fear, resentment, harm to self and others, and lets us see and live from the truth that God is for us, God’s compassion upon us, God’s light glowing to guide our hearts.

In this time of changes for your church, God will take you out, and give you some new and renewed ways of seeing yourselves and others, of what is to come, and how God is already here at work in Centralia and beyond.

And I would encourage you to pay attention to three things in the coming weeks and days.

First, pay attention to when you feel afraid or anxious. Notice it, don’t ignore it or hide it. Noticing how you are feeling during times of change can help you take good care, and not make decisions solely out of fear.. Slow down, try to give yourselves the time and room you need to feel and think clearly, and to speak and act as ones Jesus Christ has freed to live with compassion.

Second, pay attention to the signs and nudges that show up. This might be in your personal prayer time, in conversations on council or other ministry teams, the things you know and notice about the wider Centralia community and its needs and gifts, or the people and other gifts of God who show up unbidden.

Third, pay attention to what you and your community just spontaneously give, including the gift of weekly worship. What do you just love to do, such that it spills over in generosity and joyful welcome or sharing? What about worship together gives you joy, delight, or stirs your heart with compassion?

And, of course, you might just look up at the sky, or down at the ground, across the street, right there, stars, planets, birds, rainbows, a neighbor across the street, blooming camas lilies, countless sights to renew us and draw us nearer to God.

If you look to these things in your lives and among you, God will speak in a vision, and take you out to see anew, and lead you toward what is coming, and even already among you.

 Immanuel Lutheran, Centralia, WA

2nd Sunday of Lent, RCL C, 3/16/25

The Rev. Evan G. Clendenin

Service for March 9 First Sunday of Lent

Sermon for March 9, 2025 First Sunday of Lent

Luke 4: 1-13

When I’m looking for insight or inspiration one of the writers, I often turn to is Diana Butler Bass. In her blog post this week she wrote this: “On this Ash Wednesday, my heart is broken and every shred of hope I once had is gone.

I’m not well. My soul is sick. I see nothing but greed, destruction, lying, inhumanity, and evil all around.

If anyone tells me that I came from ash and will return to it, I may well laugh in their face. Or cry and never stop. I just hope I don’t hit the priest. Because — read the room, people — we’re standing in ash up to our knees.

This is a brutal Ash Wednesday.”

I think many of us can relate to Butler Bass’s lament. Some of us are facing job loss. Others have health concerns or financial trouble; marriage problems, grief or stress… the list goes on and on.

But Ash Wednesday and Lent are upon us and the wisdom of the church year has sustained generations of people through the joys and sorrows of millennia. So what can the season of lent offer us this year?

A typical Lent tradition, even popular among many people even those who are not church goers or even believers is to “give something up” for the 40 days of Lent. That may be helpful, especially if you use it as a way to clear out those habits or things that no longer serve you. Simplifying your daily routine or even clearing away some things may give you space to hear God’s voice; the voice that always calls you beloved. It is the voice always inviting you into a life of abundance, of love and goodness and hope.

I’m not sure giving up dessert or carbs or a glass of wine, can serve that purpose. If it can, good for you! Do it!

But it might even be counterproductive to give things up.

One writer had this to say about giving things up for Lent:

“Jesus would probably laugh at us for giving up things like chocolate, beer, coffee…all the things that actually bring us joy and make us happy.

What he might suggest is giving up the things that make us miserable in God’s Paradise.

Things like self-doubt, insecurities, jealousy, greed, and gossip and anger.

The things that move us away from the Light.

Honor (Jesus’) sacrifice by giving up the darkness in your life.”

How can we honor Jesus’ sacrifice by giving up the darkness in our lives?

That’s what Jesus was doing in the wilderness in the gospel story we heard today. He was giving up the darkness and moving toward God, toward the light! The key to understanding this story is to remember that Jesus wandering in the wilderness came AFTER Jesus rose out of the river Jordan, newly baptized hearing the voice of God name him “Beloved.”

Even being God’s beloved does not prevent a time of wilderness wandering; a time of isolation, loneliness, or even temptation.

It may be, in some sense, that for Jesus to fully understand what his belovedness meant, he had to face the darkness that all humans face. Maybe it was important for him to understand that belovedness is found in the midst of our lives – in the midst of all the joys and the sorrows.

After those 40 days of isolation and deprivation, Jesus is faced with choices that force him to define what it means to be God’s beloved.

One of my favorite writers is Barry Lopez who in his last book, wrote about the life of Captain Cook; you know Captain Cook, the first European to set foot in Hawaii. Lopez tells the story of Cook’s voyages that mapped the part of the world we call the Pacific Ocean and the lands that border it. Lopez writes about Cook’s accomplishments but also about his self-doubt. Cook wrote in his journals about the doubt he had about whether his life’s work had been worth the years away from his family, years of doing work that was of questionable value, in his mind. In summarizing Cook’s life Lopez asks, “What did Cook mean by his life?” “What did Cook mean by his life?”

It’s an interesting way to ask that question. We usually ask, “What did his life mean,” when we’re evaluating someone accomplishments. But Lopez asks, “What did HE mean by his life?”

When our lives are over, if we could live our lives coherently, always making choices that align with our values and our purpose as we understand it, we might be able to say exactly what we meant by our life. From the perspective of the end of our lives we might be able to say, “This is what I meant to say by the choices I made!” This is what I meant by how I reacted to what life gave me! This is what I meant to convey to my family, to my dearest loved ones and friends! This is what I meant to convey to everyone! This is what I meant by my life as God’s dearly loved child!

In this BRUTAL Lenten season, rather than being too hard on ourselves, maybe it’s enough to gently ask ourselves, What do we mean by our lives? What do we mean to say by the choices we’re making in this Lenten season and every day?

In an effort to follow Jesus’ lead, maybe we can gently ask ourselves, is this (whatever it is): this activity, this use of my time, this way I’m spending my money – whatever it is in your life, can we ask ourselves: “Is this freeing me from the darkness? Is it helping me to follow Jesus in knowing how truly beloved I am by God, no matter what is happening in my life or in the world around me? Or are my choices, my actions and my thoughts contributing to the darkness.”

And then, still, being gentle with yourself, just notice. Listen to your heart. Listen to your Spirit. Listen to the still, small voice of God who is always, relentlessly calling YOU Beloved, my dearly loved one; calling you to come rest in God. Come trust in God’s goodness.

The Spirit leads to places where we encounter what we need; things that are not always easy, not always comfortable. Immanuel/God with us does not mean God takes away all pain, all that is challenging, all heartache. We are promised that God is With us – in it all; through it all.

At this time, when so many of us feel as though each day brings news of uncertainty, of chaos, and fear of worse to come, in these times the pattern of the church year calls us to make space for the truth and the awareness that God is WITH US, that we ARE God’s Beloved and we can choose every day to walk a little closer to the light! Amen.

Pastor Val Metropoulos

Immanuel Lutheran Church

Service for March 2

Service for February 23

Sermon for February 23, 2025 Seventh Sunday of Epiphany

Two things I think about every time I preach:

First - What does Gather (and this week Immanuel) need to hear this week? I want to be faithful to God, not my ideas, but his.

Second - Would this preach in Auschwitz?

Think about that.

Sermons not to preach: prosperity gospel, if you obey all commandments/rules your life will go well, if you just have enough faith you will get what you desire

To the affluent, pastors will say, You are blessed. Jesus says this to the poor. One example of how upside down the Kingdom of God is compared to our world today.

This sermon is appropriate for Auschwitz, or modern day Palestine, Ukraine, and many other places, but preachers who would preach the aforementioned sermons might not want to preach this one.

Ordo Amoris – Augustine – order of love or rightly ordered love

Basically says that “special regard” is to be paid to those persons who “by the accidents of time, or place, or circumstance, are brought into closer connection” with the Christian individual. First love God, then others. The priority of others varies with time, place, and matter at hand. Can’t love everyone equally all the time. Prioritize based on need, not just proximity.

It is right to help a stranger in dire need over a family member in little need. – family/friends/people like us aren’t necessarily given priority automatically

First love God, then love others as their needs require and we have ability to meet those needs

In Augustin’s time, no ability to meet needs around the world. We have that ability and should use it as we are able.

Love should not stay with our family, tribe, or demographic and love is not “my group first”. Not about concentric circles, but about need.

*****************

You may have heard this in the news recently – different interpretation

“You love your family and then you love your neighbor, and then you love your community, and then you love your fellow citizens in your own country, and then after that, you can focus on and prioritize the rest of the world”

This is the way of the world. Take care of your own. Love in concentric circles and run out of love. This is the opposite of the way of Jesus.

As usual, Jesus turns the world’s way upside down.

Recap last week – blessed are you who are poor, hungry, weeping, and insulted

Woe to you who are rich, full, happy, and spoken well of

Woe – lament – riches and comfort keep us from seeing poverty and hardship, we are blind to Jesus in the face of another when we are full of ourselves

Blessed are YOU

Woe to YOU

There are both rich and poor in the crowd and Jesus speaks to both. Jesus does not talk to one about the other…important because we tend to be US and THEM.

Other groups represented – Jerusalem, Judea, Tyre and Sidon (former Canaanites – enemies of the Israelites)

Friends and enemies are in the crowd

Jesus begins with - If you are still listening, listen to this – LOVE YOUR ENEMIES

Blessed are you…woe to you…love your enemies, remember who is in the crowd – poor could see rich as enemies, different people groups could see each other as enemies, can you imagine people looking at each other – what would they be thinking?

The challenge from Jesus is to love those whom it is not natural for us to love. As a matter of fact, our natural inclination would be to hate them. That’s how the world works. That way of thinking pervades our society today. Played out on the national and international stage every day.

“Love your enemies” has been called the hardest commandment.

To our modern ordo amoris believers,

Jesus says: “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners love those who love them. 33 And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners do that. 34 And if you lend to those from whom you expect repayment, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, expecting to be repaid in full.”

Modern examples: If you love those in your church, what credit is that to you? Even sinners love those in their own clubs. If you love those with your same political leanings, what credit is that to you? Even sinners love the likeminded.

Worldly common reciprocity is motivated by gain, quid pro quo

This is not love, it is transaction

High divorce rates come because when people feel their end of the transaction isn’t being met, they leave the “business”.

People use this modern day ordo amoris way of thinking to figure out who to exclude from their love. Some use their own order of love to justify hate.

God calls me to love and protect my own (family, friends, church, etc.)

Any threat, real or perceived, brings out the opposite of love.

_________________ (group of people) threaten my way of life, so they are enemies and I don’t have to show them love.

If I see them as keeping me from protecting the ones I love, then I don’t have to show them love.

As if hatred, discrimination and persecution will make the world a better place for the ones they DO love.

Pope Francis wrote a letter to US bishops saying, “The human person is a subject with dignity who, through the constitutive relationship with all, especially with the poorest, can gradually mature in his identity and vocation. The true ordo amoris that must be promoted is that which we discover by meditating constantly on the parable of the Good Samaritan that is, by meditating on the love that builds a fraternity open to all, without exception.”

Luke 10

Expert in the law asks Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life. Jesus asks him what the law says.

Love God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself.

Jesus tells him to do this and the man, trying to justify himself, he asks, “Who is my neighbor?” (Modern view of ordo amoris – is this person in my sphere? Do I have to love him/her?)

Retell the Good Samaritan parable

The Samaritan would have been considered an “enemy”. He was loving his “enemy”.

Who was a neighbor to the man?

Answer: the one who showed him mercy – can’t even say “Samaritan”

This puts the idea of neighbor in a new light – it isn’t about seeing who is a neighbor, but about being a neighbor to everyone, including enemies. This didn’t set well with the expert in the law and it certainly doesn’t set well today.

Augustine said, “You are all looking forward to greeting Christ seated in heaven. Attend to him lying under the arches, attend to him hungry, attend to him shivering with cold, attend to him needy, attend to him a foreigner.”

And I would add, attend to him an enemy.

What does it look like to love our enemies – We can learn from Jesus and from the Good Samaritan

Jesus doesn’t say “do it” without giving us the way to do it.

A couple of things first off: loving enemies doesn’t mean liking them

It doesn’t mean rolling over to their demands or letting them into your life on a meaningful level, or “forgive and forget” (not really a thing)

Jesus’ direction to turn the other cheek or give your coat as well as your shirt is not simply rolling over to the demand. It is active non-violent resistance. Active non-violent resistance is love because it is not retaliation.

Loving is greater and more powerful than any of these.

Second: this is a journey, working through pain, hurt, emotions, anger. Keep moving forward and you will get there, even if it’s two steps forward and one step back.

Do good to those who hate you

Outrageous and radical, then and now

We are good at blame, individually and societally

We are good at loving our neighbor and holding everyone else responsible for the ills of our society

When we do that, we hold anger and hatred in our hearts, which only hurts us individually. I use the metaphor of carrying a box of rocks. As we add hurts and unforgiveness to our hearts, it is like adding rocks to the box.

We cannot control the actions or thoughts of others, but we can control how we respond. Respond with kindness, mercy, and love. This will free you from the box of rocks, though it may not alter how the other person feels and that’s ok.

Bless those who curse you

Revenge is not sweet

Retaliation brings no comfort, no joy, no peace.

Speak kindly to and about those who insult you, disparage you, or slander you

Hard to do, takes courage and strength that we often don’t have in ourselves

What comes out of our mouths matters

Pray for those who mistreat you

Pray first that the person and their actions will not have such a hold on you that you can’t even pray for them. Pray to be freed from the negative thoughts, the scenarios, the replaying of past hurt that makes everything bigger and worse than it actually is.

Bring the situation before God, bring what it is doing to you before God, and when you are able, bring the other person before God.

Be merciful as your father is merciful –

From the cross, Jesus prayed Father forgive them, loving his enemies to the very end.

Love and mercy go together, and we love in part by showing mercy, not seeking to retaliate, but to do good, to bless, and to pray. This is the journey of healing in the way of Jesus.

Service for February 16

Service for February 9

Sermon for February 9, 2025 Fifth Sunday of Epiphany

If You Say So, I Will

Have you ever seen something that is so overwhelming you can do little more than stand in awe? Some people describe entering one of the great European Cathedrals this way.

My first experience like this came unexpectedly. During my first year of college, I was part of a group crossing the country performing with a Symphonic Wind Ensemble. We had not been on the road long when we had a chance to stop by the southern rim of the Grand Canyon. Now up to that point, if you had asked me do I want to go to the Grand Canyon, I would have said no. But when we got there, all I could do was to stand there, looking out over the expanse in silence, awestruck with God’s glory.

There have been other experiences like that for me, mostly having been overcome by the beauty of Symphonic music. To this day, I cannot listen to Gustav Mahler’s Second Symphony, called the “Resurrection” without breaking down in tears of joy at its conclusion. These experiences have been for me epiphanies, the intuitive grasp of reality far beyond explanation or investigative means.

Such describes the case in our first reading this morning, when Isaiah is brought into the Temple, not the one made with human hands which must have been glorious enough, but the true Temple, the location of God’s throne. The description Isaiah offers of necessity pales to his experience. If you can even come close to comprehending what he heard and saw, you can probably comprehend Isaish’s response, Isaiah 6:5 (NRSV) “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!”

Isaiah’s response to the vision is repeated at different times and in different ways throughout Scripture. You may remember the visions of Daniel and Ezekiel. The encounters David had with God, encounters of chastisement, grace, healing, and restoration. And of course, the vision of John called the Revelation of Jesus Christ, truly an epiphany for all who have eyes to see, ears to hear, and hearts to follow.

It may not appear that way on the surface, but our Gospel text is an epiphany to the same degree as these others. The simplicity of the story Luke tells may not seem to be as dramatic, but I think it is.

Luke presents Jesus standing on the shore beside the Lake of Gennesaret proclaiming God’s word to the crowds that had gathered to hear. Luke says the crowd “was pressing in on” Jesus.

If you have ever seen paintings of famous teachers like Plato or Aristotle, you may have noticed that when they taught, they were sitting, and their audience was standing. Well here, Jesus is not sitting and the bigger the crowd, the more you can imagine people moving closer to hear better.

While this is going on, there are professional fishermen who are washing their nets following a very unsatisfying night of catching nothing. Jesus got into one of the two boats there, Luke says it is the one belonging to Simon, and he asked Simon to take him out from the shore a bit (a nice break for Simon who has been working so hard all night). Jesus then finishes addressing the crowds.

Luke is a great storyteller, but so far there is nothing he has described that is anything but ordinary. Except, when Jesus is finished with the crowd, he turns his attention to Simon. “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.”

What!? Simon objects. The fishermen are the experts. They know where to let down their nets and when to let them down. They’ve been making their living fishing for a long time. Some nights are good, some are not. Every job has its ups and downs. But they have been up all night and have not caught anything.

Who is this “carpenter” that thinks this is a good time to fish? Everyone knows you don’t fish the deep waters.

Are you ready for it? Simon responds, “If you say so, I will let down the nets.” This was the exact moment Jesus was waiting for. R.C.H. Lenski, a good Lutheran theologian, said of Simon’s response, “He intends to say, ‘The fact that thou hast spoken commands my will.’ That is exactly what Jesus wanted: Peter was to drop everything else and to throw himself absolutely on his Lord’s utterance alone. Yea, he was to go counter to all his own experience, science, wisdom, reason, or what not, including all that men might say and to hold to only one thing, his Lord’s word.”

Simon submits his will to the word of Jesus, and what happens? They catch such a haul of fish they can’t get all in the boat. They signal for the second boat to come and help and even then, they filled both boats to the point they were both starting to sink.

Simon Peter’s obedience to Jesus’ words reveals something about the reality of life and that sudden awareness resulted in humility, confession, and worship.

There are two sides to Peter’s new understanding: First, the Lord teaches us to pray, “Give us this day our daily bread.” It is imperative for us to recognize that the provision of our needs is the result of FAITH, not work. As Lenski wrote, “The fact that you have spoken, commands my will.”

Interestingly, these men all left their boats, nets, and their biggest catch ever behind them. Fishermen are notorious for their fishing stories. No one would believe this one.

Second, and here is the real epiphany: “Then Jesus said to Simon, ‘Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.’”

This one encounter that started with a frustrating night on the job and a sense of failure, Jesus began the transformation of these men from mere fishermen into heavenly fishers of men.

Maybe next time you have a hard time at work, next time things seem to be useless and fruitless, try turning away from all you think you know and simply pray, “As you have spoken, so I will do.”

Amen.

1 R. C. H. Lenski, The Interpretation of St. Luke’s Gospel, (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Publishing House, 1961), 279.

Service for February 2

Sermon for January 26

Sermon for January 26, 2025 Third Sunday of Epiphany

Good News

Friends in Christ, Grace, mercy and peace be to you from God our Father and the Lord, Jesus Christ. Amen

When my daughter Sara was three years old, I had to leave her with a babysitter while I went to work. I was indeed fortunate to have a neighbor, someone just down the block as a babysitter. When I would arrive home, I would walk up the block to get Sara and take her home. Sara got so she knew when I would be coming and she would, weather permitting, wait out in front of the babysitter’s house. She knew she had to stay there and could not go down the street. But when she would see me, she would yell at the top of her three-year-old lungs, “Mommy! Mommy!” and spread her arms wide and run to me. And I would yell, “Sara! Sara!” and spread my arms wide and run to her. We were taking the good news to each other that we loved each other and we missed each other and that was great good news for each of us and not something we were quiet about either.

Children have a wonderful exuberance and spontaneity about them and if they have good news, they tell you about it. They can’t wait. They must speak that good news right now. I hope each of you has a small or large person in your life to tell you the good news that they love you. And yes, that usually fills our hearts to overflowing and we usually have to tell them back the good news that we love them too.

When Jesus preached in the synagogue at Nazareth, he had good news to share. He could not keep it to himself. He stood up to read the lessons of the day at worship and proclaimed from the prophet Isaiah: The Spirit of the Lord was upon him and he had good news to bring to the poor, freedom for the captive, and sight for the blind. And the best news of all was that that very day this scripture had come true right before their eyes. He was the one to bring this good news to fruition!

Unfortunately, the people who heard him that day were not very receptive to his message. They couldn’t really believe that he, the home town boy, could really be from God with that good news. Their reaction may come in next Sunday’s lessons, but you need it today too. They tried to throw him off a cliff.

This was the start of Jesus’ ministry according to Luke. He had been baptized and driven out into the wilderness to resist temptation. After temptation he comes to Nazareth and lays out his mission statement in this wonderful proclamation of good news. And he even tells the good news to those who are not receptive to his telling. It is important that he tell the good news.

And we who follow Jesus, we also have good news to tell. We have a God who loves us and promises to always be with us no matter what happens in our lives or even within us. That’s good news!

I once visited an ageing gentleman who could no longer get to church. He told me that all through his life God had been present with him and he had never been alone. Through wars and struggles and near-death experiences, he knew he was never alone. It was the good news he held onto, and he told others that good news too.

It is in the man, Jesus, that we know most clearly the presence of God who will never leave us alone. It is in the man, Jesus, that we see God come to be with us. You know that. Your church name is Immanuel, which means God With Us. We follow Jesus. He proclaimed good news and our ministry too, is to be with people, to be present with them that all might know that no one is alone.

Jesus was anointed to bring good news to the poor – not just the spiritually poor – the poor – the dirt poor – those who have little or nothing but want and privation in their lives. Throughout the Bible we repeatedly hear the message that those who have much are to share with those who have little.

Last Monday, besides being presidential inauguration day, was Martin Luther King day. Martin Luther King Jr was one who took Jesus’ message of good news to the poor seriously. His “I Have A Dream” speech galvanized people with a vision where the character of our children is more important than the color of their skin or the state of their finances. I know, that last phrase, “the state of their finances, ” was not in the I Have A Dream speech. But that speech was not the only thing Martin Luther King Jr ever said. Martin Luther King Jr spoke not only about race relations in America. He also spoke about the issues of poverty. He said, “Any religion which professes to be concerned with the souls of men and is not concerned with the slums that damn them, the economic conditions that strangle them, and the social conditions that cripple them, is a dry as dust religion.” I think the one who proclaimed himself to be anointed by the Spirit of the Lord to bring good news to the poor smiled upon the one who brought good news to the poor with those words in the 20th century.

And who is to take good news to the poor in this century? You and me. I found out a little more about you by worshipping with you last Sunday from your announcements and also from talking with some of you following the service. Good on you, as my Australian friend would say.

Good News. Good news of God’s loving grace and presence in our lives. Good news for the poor, sharing the abundance of God in concrete, real terms. That’s a good place to start. Release for the captives, all kinds of captives, and recovery of sight to the blind, healing for all those who need healing are other places to go too.

Good News. Jesus had news too good to keep to himself. He proclaimed that good news to people in word and in action and in his very life blood poured out for you and me and all. And he gave that good news to us, not so that we might keep it hidden in our hearts where no one can see it. He gave it to us to take into all the world, even to people who may not be receptive to it.

The mission of the church is to carry the Good News out from the church into the world. And there is a distribution channel for this good news already in place. Every member of this congregation – every one of you and me too – out in the world today – is God’s good news messenger. Each one of us is a conduit for the pouring out of good news, not just here in this church building but wherever we go in our daily lives.

I had lost track of where a good friend was until I met her here after church last Sunday. When I said that to her, she asked, “Well, where you been?” She has been active in the Synod in ways I have not been active since I retired.

I have always had a heart for the people who are not in the church. I also have always loved the outdoors. So, when I retired, I turned into a long-distance hiker, like, thousands of miles of long-distance hiking.

Many hikers are unchurched, some hurt by the church. Unchurched people have a need for Jesus’ unconditional love, even if they don’t know it. I’ve met a lot of people on my travels. And I’ve had opportunities for prayers with hikers on the Appalachian Trail, on a pass in the Sierra on the Pacific Crest Trail, sharing Holden Evening Prayer at shelters, in my tent, or in homes of people who helped me. Also just being a safe, listening ear on some trail somewhere when hikers learned my hiker name, my handle on the trail, is Medicare Pastor. That really just means old lady retired pastor.

I’m not telling you this to say I am so great. I’m not. I often get foot in mouth disease, fail to say the right thing, and get so excited about what I’m saying that I don’t listen too well to others. What I’m trying to say is we are all called to share the good news Jesus outlines for us in whatever way we can, wherever we are. In and through our church homes and outside of the church too. We are called in our ministries to follow what Jesus did in his. He took that good news into his very self and it went with him wherever he went – in a synagogue, on a hill, in a boat, at a banquet, to the sick, to the poor, to a wedding party, to a hill far away on a cross anointed with his own blood, to a grave and past a stone rolled away, into your life and mine. And everywhere he went he brought the good news of the love of God for all of us.

I’m glad I have gotten to come here for a couple Sundays and seen a bit of the ways you share the good news at Immanuel.

We come together at worship, called by God, to hear about and share and praise God for such great good news. And we go out into the world to take that good news. It’s too good to just keep to ourselves.

Can we, in some way, each one of us, every one of us, be like three-year-olds who run down the street with arms stretched wide? Can we share the love we have received, the good news of God’s love and forgiveness and grace and healing and presence with those who need to hear it in the world around us? Can we follow Jesus and make his mission and ministry shine in us? Even to those who don’t think they need it?

Jesus’ ministry is ours too. Yes. Even at the risk of being thrown from a cliff. For we follow Jesus, who loves us all. Thanks be to God, Amen.

Sermon for January 19

Sermon for January 19, 2024 Second Sunday of Epiphany

Gifts and Old Jars

Friends in Christ, Grace, mercy and peace be to you from God our Father and the Lord, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Our Gospel lesson today is about a wedding and an extravagant gift. Our second reading picks up on the theme of gifts. Our God is a gifting God.

First, the wedding. There was a wedding in Cana of Galilee and the mother of Jesus and Jesus and his disciples were there. Weddings are joyous occasions and then, as well as now, they are wonderful excuses to have a party. In the first century, I have read that it was not too unusual to have a wedding party that would last for up to 7 days. That’s quite a party.

Now, our story tells us, halfway through the wedding, only on day 3, they run out of wine. This would be very embarrassing for the bridegroom. He didn’t plan ahead enough to serve his guests. This is a problem.

Jesus is nudged by his mother into solving the problem. Jesus is somewhat reluctant since he knows that solving the problem will reveal who he is or at least that he is from God. But he does step forward to put things to rights. He tells the servants to fill six large stone jars which usually held water for the Jewish rites of purification. These jars were big! Each one held 30 gallons. The servants filled the jars and, lo and behold, the water, when poured out, is tasted to be the very finest wine imaginable. Now, where there was a problem and scarcity, there is now extravagant abundance of 180 gallons of wine for one whing ding of a party! There is more than enough wine to last the rest of the wedding party. Jesus has provided more than what was needed.

This does indeed reveal that Jesus is not your usual wedding guest. Jesus, though, was not the only one active in this story. The servants trusted him and did what he told them to do and his disciples believed in him.

And what message is there in this story for you and me as we face a new year, new challenges in our lives, new opportunities, the situation here at Immanuel? Trust the giver, our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Do what he calls us to do and believe in him.

Is it really that simple? And who are we in this story? Are we the jars in need of filling? The servants needing to listen to Jesus and follow his directions? The disciples who believe? Or are we the wine to be poured out for the benefit and joy of all? I believe the answer is ---yes, we have a role as all of those.

Well, let’s take a look at our second lesson of the day. Perhaps it will give us some help. Paul is writing to that fractious, devisive new church in Corinth. They are having trouble getting along with each other. They are fighting over who has the best gifts from God, who is the real Christian and what should they do with the gifts they are given.

This lesson is not talking about the gift of wine at a wedding but all the gifts we are given and what we are to do with them. And we are definitely not given gifts to fight about them.

Now, I am just your visiting pastor and I really don’t know you, though I have preached here once before. But I don’t know of a church anywhere, that has not had big disagreements about any number of things just like the church at Corinth. So I assume that is true here too, if not now, then in your past. If not then, it will be true in your future. It’s just the way we are. We have trouble getting along with one another. We have trouble with our differences. We have trouble recognizing and valuing our own and each other’s gifts. Sometimes we have trouble welcoming new and different gifts in our well established groups of friends.

In the beginning of the letter to the Corinthians, Paul blows his top in anger that they could be so petty and fractious, dividing themselves into this little group or that little group because of their history, specifically, their baptismal history, their ‘church” history. They had trouble living with their differences as Christians. In our passage for today, Paul has settled down a little and is explaining that there is one gift that is the most important. The one gift that is given by the Holy Spirit to everyone is to say, Jesus is Lord.

We are given the gift of the Holy Spirit in our baptism. That Holy Spirit grows in us and gives us the gift of being able to say, Jesus is Lord. To say “Jesus is Lord” is the universal gift of the Holy Spirit to all Christians. And here that was something we thought we did that all by ourselves. No. It is a gift.

And after that all our gifts are differences. There are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit, and there are varieties of services, but the same Lord, and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone.

Why are we given all these different gifts? So we can get into arguments and fight? So we can gather together with those who think just like us and we can kick out people who don’t see things our way? Do we have a pure church of everyone who thinks, serves and acts like I do?

No, we are given our differences as gifts for the common good. Paul is bold enough here to say that we need each other and our very differences have a purpose for the common good of the church. The Holy Spirit gives us all gifts. As an old saying goes, “God don’t make no junk.” What’s more, no one person gets all the gifts, not even the pastor, especially not the pastor. Everyone is given gifts and all are important for the common good. Different gifts are given to all and all are needed. Diversity is not just politically correct. It is Spirit given and very Biblical.

Now, since I do not really know you, I don’t know what all your gifts are. But I am sure you have them, in abundance. You are a gifted people. Each one of you is a gifted person. And Jesus is still busy filling up your jars with wine, filling up each of you and your congregation with ever new and wide ranging gifts.

Now sometimes we need tools to recognize the gifts that are given. One of my favorite such tools is the Meyers Briggs Personality inventory. What I like best about it, is that it emphasizes that that each and every personality type is a gift. There are no bad personalities, just different ones. We need all the gifts and no one has them all but everyone has gifts simply in who they are. Sometimes that is a real eye-opener to those who take that test and learn a bit about it and how it applies both to them and to others around them and to our relationships with each other.

Another tool which is even more simple and equally powerful is a little exercise I remember doing in a Women of the ELCA group in a congregation many years ago. We played a little game of musical circles, sort of like musical chairs. Two circles of women, an inner circle and an outer circle moving in different directions when the music is going, stopped when the music stopped and faced each other. Then each person told the one opposite them what the gifts were they saw in them. It was a powerful thing to hear another person identify your gifts, some of which you did not know you had. Point of the game was to affirm each other and to identify for each other the gifts that were seen.

So – what are your gifts? Each one of you and as a congregation together? And how is Jesus filling your old jars with new gifts?

Is there some new gift God is developing in you? Some way of using your gifts you have never really considered? Have you been open to receiving new gifts, new people, new ideas, different, new ways of God working in you, through you, for you, for others?

The servants listened to Jesus. Listen to Jesus in prayer. And do what Jesus calls you to do and recognize new gifts that are given to you and to others.

We have been gifted by an incredibly generous God whose gifts come with abundance to accomplish all that we do for the common good. These gifts are not to be held in jars. These gifts are not to be held tightly in us. They are to be poured out for others, for the common good.

Look around to see the gifts already given to you. Recognize and affirm those gifts. And be ready for the new gifts God will give even when they are different gifts from what you expect or think you need. Receive the gifts of God and join together to use those gifts for the up-building of the community of faith and the up-building of the greater community around you. This is what our gifts are given for.

And celebrate! Jesus likes parties and celebrations. He even contributed enough wine for a 4 day party. Lutherans have all the right words to have a party but we seldom pull it off. Seldom do we find a way to be as celebrative and joyful as a 4-day wedding feast with 189 gallons of wine. We tend to focus on what we don’t have instead of the gifts already given.

When we look at what we don’t have its like running out of wine at the wedding. Right now you do not have a regularly called pastor. Sometimes, when a door is closed a window opens and new ways of doing things are found.

Are you the servants? What is Jesus asking you to do? How is Jesus trying to fill your old jars? Or is Jesus asking you to pour out your gifts as the servants poured out the wine?

We are gifted by God in a myriad of ways from our basic personalities, our histories, the world around us. And above all we are gifted by the extravagant love of Jesus who poured out his lifeblood to bring us God’s own love.

Oh Lord, Jesus, Open our jars, our hearts, our church to receive filling. Help us to listen to your directions and follow them. And open our jars, our hearts and our church to pour out your love. Then may we celebrate your gifts to us and our gifts from and to others.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

Service for January 12

Service for December 29

Sermon for December 24, Christmas Eve

Sermon for December 24, 2024 Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve Candlelight Service

So I asked the internet this week what women say giving birth feels like. One mother shared rather graphically, "The best description I can offer of how the pain actually felt was like a deep internal 'pulling'–like someone kept reaching up deep inside me, grabbing hold of whatever internal organs they could, and trying to tug them out." Unpleasant. Another mother said, "My labor pain felt like my hips were being pulled apart!" But it is not just the pain, one mother named the satisfaction of ending the nine months of pregnancy, she said, “It was the most empowering thing I've ever done. I would do labor over again in a heartbeat; the nine months preceding it is the hard part.” So many endings come with a birth: the ending of the nine months pregnancy, the ending of the labor and delivery…but also bigger, “idea” endings: if the child is your first the birth is the ending of family just being the two of you, or the ending of whatever “me-time” you thought you had as you enter the world of diapers and midnight feedings. So many endings come with a birth, and yet we understand, that to make a birth about endings is to completely miss the point of the birth.

Especially this birth. I love how on Christmas Eve we get to just pause in the magical and transcendent moment and bask in the glow of mother Mary, cradling her newborn babe, father Joseph hovering protectively, really unsure of what is next, the shepherds, completely out of place, still shaking in awe and fright from their encounter with the angels. It is a quiet, perfect moment, the sounds of animals bedded down for the night and the sweet smell of hay. And yet we understand that with the birth of this one who will be called the Christ, everything has changed. God has entered the world in the flesh of a newborn babe. And, yes, his birth means a whole lot of endings. His birth signals the ending of the Temple and all the sacrifices, the ending of the law as it was observed by the Pharisees and scribes. His birth is the ending of the time of the prophets and ending to the old age itself. His birth will be the ending of death and the reign of sin. And yet we understand, that to make this birth about endings is again to completely miss the point of the birth. Because to focus on the ending is to miss the kingdom-shattering and world-changing new beginning. And God is all about new beginnings.

The Israelites couldn’t help but look back and long for the days in Egypt, but of course the whole point of the wilderness was not to make them miss Egypt, but to prepare them for the new way of living and a life of faith God had in store for them in the promised land. Paul had to be utterly confused and his life turned upside down when God blinded him on the road to Damascus, but the point was the new transformational thing God had in store for Paul. Or again, the three days Christ lay in the tomb the disciples hid and were afraid, only counting the cost of what they had lost, completely missing the new thing God was about to do on Easter morning. You see, our God is all about new beginnings. And so on this night we celebrate a birth. We look forward and anticipate what God is going to do next. Because our God is faithful, our God is powerful, and our God is in charge. What does this new beginning mean for us?

The new beginnings promised this night make us want to stand and sing; truly, it’s Christmas Eve, how can we not sing? “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light!” And my God, for those of us experiencing loneliness or grief or struggle, listen to the new thing God is doing! In your darkness a light has shined. Or again from our reading from the prophet Isaiah, the promise that in this birth God is working an end to all wars and violence! The beginning of the reign of the Prince of Peace! “For all the boots of the tramping warriors and all the garments rolled in blood shall be burned as fuel for the fire. For a child has been born unto us…and he is named…the Prince of Peace.” Don’t you just get exhausted by all the violence and murder in the news? War after war, more and more gun violence and senseless shootings. Into all this war and bloodshed we are promised God is doing a new thing, here in this birth! Swords into plowshares! Melt down all your guns! For one has been born and his name is the Prince of Peace! The promised new beginnings here in this birth are nothing short than the very reign of God itself!

We are told that mother Mary took all these things and treasured them in her heart. Her heart became the Hope Chest, that treasury of all things meaningful and significant. She would have added to those treasures of course the promises of the angel Gabriel, who in his visit to her announced that this child, this newborn babe, would be called “the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David.” Or again her uncle Zechariah, at the birth of John, announcing of her baby now lying in the hay in the manger, “God has redeemed his people and raised up a savior…who will give salvation by the forgiveness of sins!” Son of the Most High God? The throne of David? Forgiveness of sins? The Savior? All these things swirled in Mary’s mind in this quiet moment, exhausted, at the end of so many things, and yet beholding this new thing that God was doing.

This is a night of so many endings, it is true, but to make it about endings is to completely miss the point. For our God is a God of new beginnings. And beginnings are powerful. Beginnings are laden with hope. Beginnings are full of opportunity. Beginnings invite us into a season of change as we behold this new thing that God is doing. And on this night of all nights we celebrate and proclaim this new thing that God has done, that indeed Christ the Savior is born. Amen.

Sermon for December 22, Fourth Sunday of Advent

Sermon for December 22, 2024 Fourth Sunday of Advent

Luke 1 Mary’s Magnificat

If I asked you to name some of the most famous revolutionary figures of all time, who might you name as famous revolutionaries??? We might start with our own revolution in 1775 and General George Washington. Here’s a couple good quotes from our revolutionary leader, George Washington, “Liberty, when it begins to take root, is a plant of rapid growth.” And my favorite George Washington quote in light of today’s politics, “Few men have virtue to withstand the highest bidder.” Ha, good stuff! Or perhaps you can see in your head the portrait of famed revolutionary leader Ernesto Che Guevara, leader of the Cuban revolution. He’s got some good quotes too, “If you tremble with indignation at every injustice then you are a comrade of mine.” Or this beauty, “At the risk of seeming ridiculous, let me say that the true revolutionary is guided by a great feeling of love. It is impossible to think of a genuine revolutionary lacking this quality.” There is of course Maximilien Robespierre who lead the French revolution in 1789, “Any law which violates the inalienable rights of man is essentially unjust and tyrannical; it is not a law at all.” Having fun yet? The list could go on and on, Gandhi, MLK, Nelson Mandela…but would you have ever come up for your list of most famous revolutionary leaders…Mary, mother of our Lord?

After the responsive reading we did this morning of Mary’s Magnificat, I would have to put Mary’s quotes right up there with these other great revolutionaries, “You have cast the mighty down from their thrones and lifted up the lowly.” Or again, “You have filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty.” We may lose the revolutionary tone of Mary’s words when we set it to music and sing all pretty, “My soul proclaims your goodness O Lord and my spirit rejoices in you.” I love the Holden Evening Prayer, but there is an artist named Ben Wildflower who really nails Mary’s revolutionary spirit. Arnie and Rita, you’ll like this he is a woodcut artist. He also does cut pieces of art in linoleum which I’d never heard of before (they’re called linocuts). His portrait of Mary the revolutionary is featured on the back of today’s bulletin: fist in the air, fierce expression on her face that rivals Ernesto Che Guevara, I love that her foot is triumphant over the devil and death, and of course the words from her Magnificat encircle her, “Cast down the mighty, send the rich away, fill the hungry, lift the lowly.” A little different than the Mary on our bulletin cover, all serene and peaceful. Do you have a favorite? Either way, you cannot escape that the words of Mary in her Magnificat upend and unmask the ways of this world, a new and different way of God’s kingdom is proclaimed and even experienced. And into the argument of the “reason for the season” one author writes that this shocking scope of what God has done in the birth of Christ, that in this pregnancy oppressors will no longer eat at the expense of the oppressed and the powerful will no longer show the lowly contempt, this, this revolutionary spirit is the real Christmas magic this time of year.

Martin Luther wrote a whole commentary on this text, Mary’s Magnificat. But he did so in a letter to Prince John Fredrick, seventeen year old Duke of Saxony and nephew of the famed Frederick the Wise (if you follow Luther history!). It may seem odd to write about mother Mary and the significance of this birth in a letter to a 17 year old prince, but Luther is using Mary’s revolutionary words as both a warning and a guide for the young prince, quote:

For while the earth remaineth, authority, rule, power and seats must needs remain. But God will not long suffer men to abuse them and turn them against him, inflict injustice and violence on the godly, and take pleasure therein, boast of them and fail to use them in the fear of God, to His praise and in defense of righteousness.

There is indeed something revolutionary about Mary’s song, this promise that the oppressor will be upended, that the birth of this child means the hungry poor will be fed while the rich are sent away. Before Jesus is even born we get a glimpse of what is coming in the Kingdom of God through the life, death and resurrection of Christ. Amen?

But interestingly, Luther calls this work, of God putting down the mighty, “God’s third work.” It’s not even God’s second work, Luther argues, which is breaking spiritual pride. What, you might ask, is God’s first work? What is God’s work of primacy? This is important, because, like Ernesto Che Guevara argues, a revolutionary devoid of love is just another violent tyrant. God’s first work, therefore, is God’s work of mercy. God does not overturn injustice and overthrow the tyrant because God is our violent redeemer, but God institutes a new kingdom where the lowly are lifted because God loves the lowly and the hungry are fed because God loves the hungry. God’s first work is always mercy. Regarding God’s first work of mercy Luther states:

This, then, is the first work of God — that He is merciful to all who are ready to do without their own opinion, right, wisdom, and all spiritual goods, and willing to be poor in spirit. These are they who truly fear God, who count themselves not worthy of anything, be it never so small, and are glad to be naked and bare before God and man; who ascribe whatever they have to His pure grace, bestowed on the unworthy; who use it with praise and fear and thanksgiving, as though it belonged to another, and who seek not their own will, desire or honor, but His alone to Whom it belongs.

We see this first work of God’s mercy right away in the text; Mary has just arrived to visit her Aunt Elizabeth in her own miraculous pregnancy with John (remember when baby John leapt in the womb at Mary’s arrival?). Elizabeth exclaims, “Blessed are you among women!” And Mary bursts into song, “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord…for you Lord have looked with favor on your lowly servant…you have done great things for me…you have mercy on those who fear you.” Do you hear God’s first work all over the words of Mary’s song? God looks with favor on your lowliness. God has done great things for you. God has shown you mercy. Luther, rightly, calls this work of mercy God’s first work.

So yes, while our faith has a revolutionary spirit, even a call to throw down tyrants, upend the system so that the poor are fed and the rich are turned away, this spirit is never in hatred or violence, the spirit of our faith is always love and mercy. This is God’s first work; it is therefore our first work. Amen.

Sermon for December 15, Third Sunday of Advent

Sermon for December 15, 2024 Third Sunday of Advent

Luke 3:7-18 You Brood of Vipers

Y’know, I’ve been preaching for over 25 years now and one of the things I pride myself in is a good hook, y’know, a good intro. A personal story or who doesn’t love a good movie reference, right? But try as I might, this week I just couldn’t outdo John in today’s sermon, I mean John’s sermon-intro really takes the cake, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee the wrath to come!” I mean, I might’ve gone with some witty story or an example from a Disney movie, but you have to admit, this is an attention-grabber. Happy Advent, you brood of vipers!

This is rightly offensive to anybody, really, but for a people like the Israelites who claimed Abraham as their father, to call them all sons of snakes, might be the most offensive thing John could say. Are any of you into genealogy? I haven’t done that much work on my family history, and yet I know that my grandfather was the Reverend Peter Mohr serving Lutheran parishes in Alberta, Canada, and what more, that my family celebrates their ancestry back to the famed Joseph Mohr who wrote the Christmas carol “Silent Night.” Do you have any cool genealogy stories??? And so to know your important stories and how they shape you and then call you all a brood of vipers, sired by a bunch of snakes, you get how offensive this would have been, right? And so the Jews in the crowd as John is preaching on the banks of the Jordan River, they’re right to protest, “But we have Abraham as our ancestor! We’re the chosen people!” To which John replies, “God is able from these very stones to raise up children of Abraham. You ought bear fruits worthy of repentance otherwise the axe is already at the root of the tree.” Who doesn’t love a good wrath and judgment sermon? And then my favorite part at the end of the reading where Luke records, “With many other exhortations John proclaimed the good news to the people.” 

As a general rule, people don’t like having their sins pointed out to them. I know in me it triggers defensiveness and I’m likely to fight back, and maybe not very fairly. And yet, what is amazing about this text, is the people knew exactly what to expect from John’s sermons out in the wilderness…and they went anyway. John was preaching the wrath of God, really nailing them with their sins and… they flocked to him. Why? Just because I don’t like you pointing out my sins doesn’t mean you’re wrong. And in these days of alternative facts, perhaps we could all use a little more truth-telling. The people clamor to John, even tax-collectors and soldiers for crying-out-loud, “Tell us, what must we do?!” And so you see how even good preaching, truth-telling about sin and the wrath of God, is itself liberating and what we call good news. Take, for example, the confession and forgiveness we do at the beginning of each service. As you confess your sins, do you do so reluctantly? Are you afraid of God? Do you try and hide anything from Him? Or, is there a sense of refreshment as you lay it all bare before God hearing the best news you could ever hear, “For the sake of His Son, Jesus Christ, God forgives you all of your sins. Amen.”

This is why this third Sunday of Advent is almost ironically called “Gaudete” or Joy Sunday (the Latin for joy). The word joy and rejoice is all over our other readings, but the Gospel reading itself at first blush feels the farthest thing from joy. You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee the wrath to come! The axe is already at the root! These aren’t texts that we generally associate with joy! And yet, in the forgiveness of Christ, in the truth-telling of our confession, God’s axe is at our root, this refiner’s fire burns away all impurities and chaff and leaves us only holy and righteous and forgiven before the throne of God. Tell me, is that good news or bad news? It’s both, really, isn’t it? Bad news for the old sinner, the selfish, greedy little whore in each of us, bad news for him as he is only good for chaff for the everlasting fire. But that is good news for you and me. Good news that the old sinner has no place in the Kingdom, that God will one day burn him out of us like a refiner’s fire once for all declaring us righteous and pure. Might that even be cause for joy? I like to think so. I like to think Paul set Philippians 4:4 to music, “Rejoice in the Lord always, again I say rejoice.”

John the Baptist thoroughly understands that there is only one way to deal with the old sinner, you have to preach him to death. You don’t reason with him, cajole him, train him or expect better of him. The nature of sin is that it always chooses self. Apart from the power of the Holy Spirit you will never and can never choose God. And so while we might expect John to offer grandiose plans to the people who come asking, his call to death is just as basic as it sounds today. “What must we do?” the people ask. “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none,” John answers. “Whoever has food must do likewise.” John doesn’t give the old sinner elaborate remodeling projects to work on, but calls us all to a simple death, “Put aside your greed and selfish ways and take care of your neighbor.” Death and resurrection. Same with the tax-collectors and soldiers who come to John, “Do not steal or extort money from people.” After John’s bombastic sermon-intro, we might expect more explosive ideas, but John’s prescription to the people is pretty much basic caring and sharing. Put that old greedy self to death and help your neighbor. What is a damning indictment is that John’s prescription still sounds revolutionary today. We are living in an age of unparalleled greed. Did you know that the three richest Americans: Bezos, Musk and Larry Ellison of Oracle, have more money than the bottom 50% of Americans? Three people! Have more wealth than 170 million! Don’t you find that to be the most grossly immoral thing you’ve ever heard? And the richest 1% have more wealth than the bottom 90%! Our politicians are all bought and paid for. Corporate profits are soaring while homelessness climbed 12% last year. What do you think John the Baptist would have to say if he could preach today? The call to repent is a call to put the old greedy self in each of us to death and to help our neighbor, especially those most vulnerable and weak.

With that being said, I could make a laundry list of my own sins, let alone the 60 or 70 of us here today. But I want to end the sermon looking at ways this congregation is already following John’s instructions. Ways that we are already caught up in God’s revolutionary act of sharing our coat or sharing our food. Have you ever been here on Thanksgiving Day or Christmas Day when we are serving Holiday meals? Literally sharing our food and our space and our time to feed those who are needy or lonely. What are other ways this congregation is caught up in God’s revolutionary act? (Kid’s Kloset, Apartment Team, RIC/Social Justice, Quilters, 10% tithe, etc.)

I wanted to end this sermon on that positive note. Sure, we need to let John the Baptist go off like a grenade and have the “brood of vipers” cut us down and throw us in the refiner’s fire. But the church wouldn’t be the church if we were not joyfully living out this revolutionary act of God, sharing what we have, refusing greed, putting to death selfishness, being caught up in all this good trouble that God’s Kingdom is working in the world. Amen.

Sermon for December 8, Second Sunday of Advent

Sermon for December 8, 2024 Second Sunday of Advent

Luke 3:1-6 John the Baptist

Last weekend my family went to see the new Gladiator 2 movie. We went as a family because 24 years ago we went and saw the original Gladiator in the theater as a family. Only 24 years ago “as-a-family” meant Odette was still in-utero. Sarah was 9 months pregnant, immense and sitting in the front row of the theater with all the intense gladiator fight scenes. Well, guess what happens to all that adrenaline? The mother shares all that adrenaline with the baby. And so Odette started pushing and shoving all through the movie. Sarah was yelping in pain as you could feel the kicking and elbowing through Sarah’s stomach as our own little gladiator was stabbing under Sarah’s ribcage. We joked as we watched the new movie last weekend that Odette should periodically jab Sarah in the ribs just to, y’know, recreate this special family memory. 

I share this story because this is exactly how John the Baptist is introduced to us in the New Testament. John is also in-utero, his mother Elizabeth is 6 months along in her pregnancy when Mary comes visiting. Mary has just received the news from the angel Gabriel that she too was pregnant with one to be called the Son of God. And as Mary entered the house in the hill country where Elizabeth and Zechariah lived, just as Mary greeted Elizabeth, what happened? Little baby John leapt in the womb. Something about being in the presence of this one who is the promised Messiah, this spark of energy, this transfer of pure joy, and the baby leapt in Elizabeth’s womb. Mothers, you can feel it, can’t you? If the baby decides to kick or in this case, jump for joy, you would feel it wouldn’t you? And so Elizabeth cries out, maybe even in a little pain with a foot jammed into her ribs, “Blessed are you among women and blessed is the fruit of your womb…that the mother of my Lord comes to me!”

All this week I’ve been pondering John the Baptist. I’ve been asking the most basic of questions, “Why?” Why John the Baptist? I mean, couldn’t have Jesus just appeared and started doing ministry? Why is the figure of John the Baptist even necessary at all? All the conventional answers came to me right away, “Well, he was there to prepare the way,” or, “He is the bridge between the age of the prophets and the age of the Messiah.” All those are fine and good, but one of my pastor friends wondered with me, “What if John’s singular purpose was to leap for joy at the presence of the savior?” That is, what if John’s introductory act, that leap for joy, is the lens through we make sense of John’s ministry? And that got me thinking, what if our role, our purpose as Christians, as believers in this one as the Son of God, is likewise simply that, to leap for joy in the presence of the one through whom we have our salvation?

Our Gospel text opens with this laundry list of unpronounceable names (right, Dorathea?); but notice these are all the most important and powerful men of the day: the Roman emperor Tiberius; the governor of Judea Pontius Pilate; ruler of Galilee King Herod; and of course the high priests at the Temple in Jerusalem Annas and Caiaphas. But what is the very next line? It says, “And the word of God came to…” And quite notably, the word of God did not come to any of these important and powerful men. Not the governor or the emperor, not even the most religious of men, the high priest in the Temple; the word of the Lord, rather, came to…John son of Zechariah, where? In the wilderness. You have all these important, powerful men, priests and politicians, living in palaces and at the Temple of the Lord itself, but the word of God came to none of them, rather, the Word of the Lord came to some weirdo dressed in animal skins preaching out in the wilderness. ‘The word of the Lord came to a nobody out in the middle of nowhere’ is what the text might as well be saying. Why does this matter? Because we get a glimpse of the whole kingdom of God and how it comes to us! Think about the Christmas story itself, the Christ-child not born in the palace to a rich and powerful Princess, but the Christ-child, born in a stable, laid in a manger, born to a poor blue-collar couple from Nazareth. And God could have sent the angel chorus to the Temple to make the announcement to the priests and the religious leaders, instead, they show up and serenade a group of shepherds out in the countryside of Bethlehem. Again, the word of the Lord came to a bunch of nobodies in the middle of nowhere. This is how the Word of the Lord comes! Do you see? And so what implications are there for you and me? What does it look like to be the bearers of the Word of the Lord today? Are we as the church called to consolidate political power? Create a religious test of our leaders to make sure they’ll wield power for us? To accumulate wealth and power and influence? Those are precisely the things that guarantee the Word of the Lord will pass right by us. Rather, we are called to be the nobodies sharing the word to other nobodies in the middle of nowhere. Amen?

What does it mean to be called “nobody”? I like how in our Old Testament reading the prophet Malachi begs the question, “Who can endure the day of the Lords coming? Who can stand when the Lord appears?” Well, that’s about as rhetorical as a rhetorical question can be, ‘cause the answer of course is…nobody. Who can endure the day of the Lord’s coming? Nobody. Who can stand? Nodbody. You think you can pile up all your good works and religious trophies and impress God on that day? St. Paul puts it best in Romans when he answers the question, “No one is righteous; no not one. All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.” Who can endure at the Lord’s coming? Who can stand? Answer: nobody. And that is what makes us “nobodies.” And there is only one appropriate response, therefore, to the Lord’s coming, and that is exactly what John the Baptist leads us to…repentance for the forgiveness of sins. Since nobody can stand before the Lord’s coming, then the only appropriate response is repentance. We cannot forgive ourselves, and so it all becomes about God’s mercy. Amen?

The responsive reading we did this morning was not one of the Psalms (like we normally do) but is the song of Zechariah, John the Baptist’s father, at the birth of John. There with baby John in his arms, his father describes this exact ministry of John, that he is to call the people to repentance and proclaim the forgiveness of God. Look at verse 76 as he holds high the baby John: And you, child, shall be called the prophet of the Most High, for you will go before the Lord to prepare the way, to give God’s people knowledge…of what? Knowledge of salvation. How? Salvation by…the forgiveness of their sins. How will this happen? By the tender compassion of our God. I like the translation: by the tender mercy of God. We hear in this text both the primary purpose of Christ and of John the Baptist. Jesus has come to reveal the tender-mercy of God as he forgives our sins. And John is sent to prepare the way calling the people to repentance, the only appropriate response to the Lord’s coming.

And through that lens, how can you not view every aspect of John’s ministry as his leaping for joy in the presence of Jesus our salvation? Calling the people to repentance on the banks of the Jordan River, there is John leaping for joy as the one thing he has been set aside for is about to take place. John baptizing the people and crying out as Christ enters the waters, again leaping for joy. Pointing out Christ to his own disciples, “Behold the Lamb of God, come to take away the sins of the world,” in the presence of the Savior again leaping for joy. Even as he himself is in prison awaiting his own execution, he begs the question of Jesus, “Are you the one or are we to await another?” And the answer comes, “Go tell John what you have seen and heard: that the blind see, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor receive the Good News.” The word of the Lord is coming to a bunch of nobodies John, don’t you see? And John’s final earthly act, then, was the same as his first as he leapt for joy.

And that Good News has not changed. Here we are 2000 years later, and we are still proclaiming the tender-mercy of our God. How through the death and resurrection of Christ, your sins are forgiven. Not because you’re a somebody, rich or powerful or especially religious, but because you are a nobody – you are saved by the gift of grace alone as the word of the Lord comes to you. With John, therefore, we likewise have one singular purpose, one mission, and that is in the presence of our savior to leap for joy. Amen.

Sermon for December 1, First Sunday of Advent

Sermon for December 1, 2024 First Sunday of Advent

First Sunday of Advent Luke 21 Stand up and raise your heads

Did any of you grow up in the 50s or 60s doing “duck and cover” drills in school in case of nuclear attack? They started those drills in 1952. What do you remember??? I remember doing earthquake drills in school. It was the same thing, you’d climb under your desk and hunker down. My daughter grew up doing active-shooter drills in school. I remember I was visiting the elementary school across the street in Tacoma and got stuck there for 45 minutes when they had an active shooter drill. We all had to get on the floor and they turned off the lights and locked all the doors. We seem to know instinctively that there is a right time to “duck and cover.” If we think there is danger or imminent threat, get your head down, maybe hide or take cover, turn out the lights. You know, these are normal ways, best practices, training and even our God-given instincts all telling us to duck and cover. And so it is notable, even backwards or at least counter-instinctual, when Jesus tells his disciples, amidst all the destruction and chaos, to, quote, “stand up and raise your heads,” the very opposite of duck and cover, right? He even says it twice in our text, that on that day you may “stand before the Son of Man.” When everything else in the world tells you to duck your head and take cover, Jesus tells his disciples to raise our heads; not hide in the dark, but to stand tall. And so in the face of the tumult and turmoil of this world, Jesus instructs you and I to a faith that is backwards-ly courageous, that trusts God even in the most uncertain and anxious times. Amen?

The Gospel text for this morning, the First Sunday of Advent and the new church year, actually began several weeks ago with Jesus at the Temple. Remember the story of the widow’s offering, where she drops in the two pennies? After that one of the disciples is marveling at the large stones and impressive structure of the Temple to which Jesus replies, “Truly I tell you, not one stone will lie upon another.” That gets his disciples all worked up and Jesus launches into a long sermon about what Jeremiah calls in our first reading, “The days are surely coming saith the Lord…” The end times and the great Day of the Lord. And it is full of imagery that is troubling if not terrifying: wars, earthquakes and today’s text says even the heavens shall be shaken, signs in the sun, the moon and stars, and distress as the sea and waves roar. I heard someone point out that what is being described here by Jesus is the undoing of creation, the undoing of Genesis chapter one. In Genesis God is ordering the lights in the sky, setting the sun, moon and stars; but as we sing today in our sermon hymn, in the end times the stars begin to fall. Again in Genesis God orders the waters, setting the boundaries for the seas and the waves that they may advance no further; yet here in these end times texts the sea and waves roar and foam, causing distress as they violate the boundaries established in creation and return to chaos. These texts are not what we would call Good News! Actually, they have every characteristic about them that ought to send us, with good reason, to “duck and cover.” Instead though, what are Jesus’ very next words? “When these things begin to take place…stand and raise your heads.” Don’t duck and cover, not my disciples, you are to be a sign for the world; let them see you stand high and raise your heads. Why?Why? Because, Jesus says, (and here is the Good News!), “because your redemption is drawing near.” Your redemption is drawing near.

Jesus uses popular Advent language today like “Stay alert!” “Stay awake!” “Be on guard!” language that reminds me of the night-watchman on the walls. That night-watchman’s job is to stay alert for invading armies or enemies, but here Jesus tells us we are watching not for danger but for our redemption. It is not an invading army we are watching for, but for the returning hero, for our champion. And so while the world hunkers down in fear and picks sides and arms themselves (you know gun sales have increased since the election?), what are Christians to do? What are we as disciples of Jesus Christ called to do? Stand tall and lift up our heads because this isn’t about fear, this is about faith; this is about our redemption. Martin Luther has a great way of putting it that always brings it back to the death and resurrection of Christ. In the face of the turbulence and turmoil in these texts, Luther brings us straight to the tomb of Christ and calls it the “strange and dreadful strife when life and death contended.” That those three days Christ laid in the tomb life and death themselves contended; that there is the most dreadful strife this world has ever known. The core of every human story, every struggle and every conflict, is this strife, the battle between life and death that played out in the very tomb of Christ. And not to ruin the end of the story if you haven’t read it yet, but do you know what happened? Do you know who won? Of course, Easter morning Christ emerged from the tomb victorious over death. Christ, in the midst of the greatest strife, raises his head and becomes our redeemer. So too he now calls you, in the midst of your own turmoil and fears, to raise your head for he, our redeemer, has drawn near.

These texts put a lot of things into perspective for me. Here I may fret about an election. I may be stressed about putting our house on the market or wondering where my next job might be. And to put it all into perspective Jesus talks about the very undoing of creation itself, the seas roar and stars begin to fall. Yeah, my problems aren’t that bad. Which means if I can face the end of the first creation with my head held high, I can probably go through the uncertainty of these next several months with my head raised in faith. Amen? I offer the same word to you, my very dear sisters and brothers at Immanuel as you too enter your own time of change and uncertainty. We soon come to the “farewell” part of this call and both of us enter a time of uncertainty called “transition.” I remember learning once that every emotionally charged reaction in times of uncertainty or conflict comes from fear, a fear of losing something important to us. And so pay attention to one another; listen to one another. Transition isn’t supposed to be easy; there is a reason we use the metaphor of “wilderness” when we talk about transition. There will invariably be heightened anxieties and with that often comes maybe not always our best behavior. Be kind. Be patient with one another. Listen to one another because chances are deep down we are all reacting to a deep fear of losing something valuable to us. But then let the word do its work; let the promises of Christ cut through the noise and the turmoil, “stand and raise up your heads” for Christ your redeemer is near. Even in the most uncertain and anxious times, hold fast to this faith, that in the empty tomb your redemption has come. Amen.

Sermon for August 18th 13th Sunday after Pentecost

John 6 I Am the Bread of Life

OK, ready for a little National Geographic? Trivia Question: Which carnivorous mammal has the greatest recorded bite strength? I will give you a clue, it is not the human. Humans only have 162 pounds of bite force. This animal is from sub-Saharan Africa…measured with over 1000 pounds of bite force, it is…the spotted hyena. Also known as the laughing hyena. Hyenas have enough bite force to literally crunch through bones. You wanna know what that sounds like? I’m glad you asked. ‘Cause I found this youtube video…

Why do we start the sermon today with something as gross as a hyena crunching through the bones of a carcass? It’s not my fault, it’s Jesus’! Because Jesus said that is how we meant to eat his flesh. To devour it like a hungry animal. To gnaw and crunch on his flesh like a hyena with a bone. It all started when Jesus fed the 5000 and they came to him demanding more bread; more signs. What Jesus gave them, however, was himself, “I Am the Bread of Life.” And then Jesus gave them a teaching that would still be controversial today, “And the bread I give for the life of the world is…my flesh.” We have a name for that. That is called cannibalism my dear children and is in fact frowned upon in most societies. There’s this video of a CNN reporter interviewing an actual cannibal who is wearing a necklace of human jaw bones. It gets bad when the cannibal threatens the reporter to cut off his head and eat him because he talks too much. The reporter calls over his producer and says, “I think this might have been a mistake.” Yeah, you think!? Even today cannibalism is way outside the bounds. It’s like the worst a human could be, killing and eating the flesh of another human. And so the religious leaders and even Jesus’ own disciples rightly object, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” And then again, “This teaching is difficult, Jesus! Who can accept it?” But Jesus doesn’t back off, or try and explain better what he meant, or somehow soften his teaching, rather he doubles down and makes the teaching even more offensive. You can’t see it in the English translation, but in verse 53 Jesus uses the verb common for eating, “Very truly I tell you unless you eat of the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood you have no life in you.” But then after their objections, he doubles down and makes the teaching more offensive, using a different verb, instead of the verb for “eat” he changes it and uses the verb for “crunch or much or gnaw” like this hyena loudly gnawing and crunching on bones. And so verse 54 reads, “Those who gnaw on my flesh and drink my blood will have eternal life and I will raise them up on the last day. Gnaw and crunch on my flesh like a wild animal and drink my blood and then you will abide in me and I in you.”

Why, Jesus? Why make it so gross? Why would Jesus double-down like that? Why make it more offensive? Why not soften it up, make this teaching more palatable for people to digest. Why not? Well, I’m convinced it is because this teaching is a matter of life and death. That is, it is about our death and resurrection. And when it comes to putting the Old Adam to death, Jesus doesn’t mess around. He doesn’t soften things up to make it more palatable. This is about creating faith and Jesus doesn’t have time to mess around. And so he says it exactly as it is: If you don’t consume and take in Christ like a starving animal, then you have no part in him. Next week we’ll hear how most of Jesus’ disciples left him over the offense of this teaching; so Jesus clearly isn’t worried about crowd size. What he’s worried about is faith. Why does a starving animal eat with such ferocity and candor? Because it’s starving! Do we pretend we come to the Table already filled? Already able to forgive our own sins, able to choose to be saved apart from the work of the Holy Spirit? Do we come to this Table full? Or do we come to this table as beggars? Truly desperate and starving. This is what is at stake. Faith itself is at stake. And this is a matter of life and death, and so Jesus doubles down and makes his teaching even more offensive.

Martin Luther wrote so many volumes and volumes of books and letters and letters of correspondence, that when he died they not only took a death mask of his face, which was fairly common of someone noteworthy, but when Martin Luther died, they took a death “mask” of his hands as well, because when he died his hands were still locked in this position, the right hand as if it were holding a quill pen writing and his left as if it were flattening the page to write. I know, I got to see these in person when they were on display at Luther Seminary. Isn’t that cool? And so when Luther died, do you know the last thing he wrote? This is such a cool story. Luther knew he was dying, laying there in his death bed surrounded by friends and witnesses. He pulls a scrap of paper out of his pocket, scrawls something with a pen on the back of it, stuffs it back in his pocket and then dies. All those around him keeping vigil were like, “What did he write? What are the last words of the great Martin Luther, who wrote volumes and volumes of words? Maybe he recanted everything at the end?” So they pull out the scrap of paper, turn it over, and there on the back Luther had written, “It is true; we are all beggars.” It is true;  we are all beggars. How do we come to the table? How do we come to the throne of grace? Do we come as those already full, with all the answers if you’ll just get out of the way and let me show just you how religious I can be? Or do we come as beggars? As starving animals, as Jesus says. This is a matter of grace. It is a matter of our salvation. We do not come already filled. But like a starving hyena, we are to come to Christ’s body, as if this is the only thing in the whole world that can fill us…because it is.

And we do well to remember that the one offering his body and blood to us isn’t just some wild-eyed prophet, or even a mighty leader or important religious figure. He is Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of God. And what more, as scripture attests, he himself is God. From the beginning, not one thing was made that was not made through him. He is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. We are reminded of this when Jesus chooses very specific language to describe himself, “I Am the Bread of Life.” And we’ve heard that I AM before. Of course, Jesus uses it seven times in the Gospel of John: I am the good shepherd; I am the way the truth and the life; I am the resurrection and the life; I am the vine and you are the branches. But truly, that I AM claim should be even more offensive to us than Jesus inviting us to eat his flesh and drink his blood. Because the claim Jesus is making goes all the way back to Exodus, to the story of the burning bush, where God calls Moses to deliver his people out of slavery. Moses finally asks God, “But who should I tell them sent me? What name shall I tell them.” And God answers, “I AM.” It is the Hebrew name YAHWEH. I AM. Or, I AM WHO I AM. That name of God was considered so holy that if you were the reader in the synagogue on the Sabbath you had a pointing stick so you didn’t actually touch the page and then if you came upon this holy name of God, you didn’t read it out loud, you substituted it with another name of God, like Adonai. But you never said this name, I AM, out loud. It was too holy. Here, Jesus not only says the name out loud, but makes claims that the I AM is indeed him. He, Jesus of Nazareth, is the great I AM who spoke to Moses out of the burning bush? And of course this is the greatest offense of all because it would have been utter blasphemy, a mere mortal to claim he is God. And so in our Bread of Life text they even question him, “Is this not Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How can he now claim to come from heaven.” Because he is human, he must be lying, or delusional or plain crazy. But from heaven? The great I AM? Impossible. And yet through the ears of faith we hear and we believe. We believe that Jesus is the great I AM who spoke to Moses from the burning bush; we believe Jesus is the great I AM from before the beginning of all creation; we believe Jesus is the great I AM who is the Alpha and the Omega; we believe Jesus is the great I AM, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. We believe Jesus is the great I AM who invites you to eat his flesh, to gnaw on it like you’re starving, and to drink his blood. For when you believe Jesus is the great I AM, then how can you not come to his body and come to his blood parched and starving? Where else shall you go for eternal life? Amen.

Sermon for August 11th 12th Sunday after Pentecost

John 6 and 1 Kings 19 Elijah sustained by bread/”I Am the Bread of Life”

Have you been watching the Olympics? What are your favorite events? Sarah and I were watching the women’s high-dive the other night and I didn’t recognize the flag and the three-letter country designation that one of the athletes had. So, here’s the flag. I bet some of you know it right away. And the three-letters were “PRK.” I actually guessed correctly, “People’s Republic of Korea???” But it was…North Korea, which it has been their first time competing in eight years. So this inspired me to have a little Olympics geography quiz. This nation is home to 3.2 million people and fielded 9 athletes in the summer games (Eritrea in Eastern Africa). OK, this is an island nation in the West Pacific Ocean home to only 18,000 people (Palau, and they fielded 3 athletes). One more, this is another island nation in the Caribbean (St. Lucia. They fielded only 4 athletes, but won two medals, a gold and silver. Pretty impressive!).

So, this summer we are spending time with the “I Am the Bread of Life” teachings. One of the aspects of wine and bread every Sunday, is remembering that wine and bread were consumed at every normal meal at that time. Bread and wine are not fancy foods like caviar or micro-greens, the whole point is they are common and ordinary. Bread is a staple diet. So again in the spirit of the Olympics and identifying flags, let’s play a different game. I will show you a flag and you name the staple diet. So instead of “I am the bread of life…” here, this first one is easy, “I am the… (China/rice of life).” OK, this one if fun (Ireland/I am the potato of life). I’ve been here, I did a mission trip with Habitat for Humanity (Dominican Republic) and I’ll tell you there isn’t a meal served that you don’t get…rice and beans. Jesus said I am the rice and beans of life! I don’t think you’ll get this one…the three letter Olympic designation is NGR if that helps… (Nigeria/and the staple diet? Cassava. Manioc root. Jesus said, “I am the cassava of life.”) Here in America we recognize bread as a staple diet. Something commonly served and eaten at any given meal, right? In fact, Americans eat 37 pounds of bread a year. That’s 3 pounds of bread a month. However, that is nowhere even close to the country that consumes the most bread per capita. Who is this? The 3 letter designation should give it away…TUR. Yeah, Turkey. Turkish citizens eat… 440 pounds of bread a year! That’s 37 pounds of bread every month! Talk about a staple diet. They eat bread at every meal to dip and scoop and scrape every bite. 37 pounds a month!

So when Jesus says, “I am the bread of life” he is saying he is the staple of life. Staple diet means every day, if not every meal, right? Staple means consumed for daily life. Like a staple diet of rice or cassava, Jesus is saying that he is what is necessary and needed in order to live. That is what I love about this Elijah story, that at this moment Elijah needed strength, that Elijah needed encouragement, God didn’t send the angelic cheerleading squad to boost his morale, God met him there in the wilderness and instead sent an angel to…cook for him. Bake a cake of bread on a rock and provide a jar of water. It is no less a miracle than the feeding of the 5000 or the manna in the wilderness. But what I love about it is how simple it is. Just a cake of bread and a bottle of water. God gives Elijah exactly what he needs to sustain him for his journey through the wilderness.

And that is the thing about staple foods, they aren’t anything fancy. When Jesus says, “I Am the bread of life,” he is claiming something common and daily. Jesus is not caviar at $1,300 a pound. Jesus is not our kobe beef or white truffles that only the rich and wealthy can afford…he is plain, ordinary bread. And this matters; Jesus meets us here in the common and ordinary. In the word and in the water and the bread and wine. People like to ask me, for example, if this is “holy” water. They’ve seen too many vampire movies and want to know if the water in the baptismal font will hurt a vampire. I tell them that it comes from the same exact pipes that fill the sinks and the toilets. It is just as plain and ordinary as toilet water. Now, what makes it “holy” is that the spirit has promised to be present every time the promise is proclaimed that here in these waters you are a beloved child of God. The water is not holy, Christ is holy Same with the bread. When, for example, Bev bakes our communion bread, does she use her “holy” oven? Does she have “holy” oven-mitts and a “holy” spatula that she uses? Holy flour? Holy yeast? You see what I mean. The whole point is this is plain, ordinary bread. It is staple food. And how powerful for Bev and anyone else who has ever prepared the communion bread to see something baked in their daily-use oven on the same old baking trays they’ve used a thousand times, suddenly becomes the host, the very body of Christ that we all partake on Sunday morning. This is the gospel. That Christ Jesus meets us here in the common and ordinary. In the staples of life. He even meets us in flesh and bone. Immanuel. God with us. And what is more ordinary than this stuff? This is the gospel because Jesus comes all the way. He doesn’t come half way and then command us to be more holy or be more religious and somehow meet him half-way in the sky, like we’re climbing some ladder to heaven. No. Jesus comes all the way. Jesus meets us here in the bread and wine. And so Jesus insists, “I Am the Bread of Life.” Jesus is the source of life.

We like to say we are a people of Word and Sacrament; what do we mean by that? It means that we give away Christ every time in common ordinary things like words and bread and wine. And really truly, how could we do any other? This coming Wednesday, August 14, is the commemoration of the Saint Day for Pastor Kaj Munk, a Danish Lutheran Pastor who was executed by the nazi gestapo in 1944. As a critic of the nazi rule, Pastor Munk was ordered to cease public gathering, that is, he could no longer lead church. You know, I don’t think it is insignificant that each of the bread stories this morning is a moment of distress or trouble. Elijah’s escape from Jezebel, in the Psalm today David’s flight from Abimelech, and of course Jesus’ confrontation with the religious authorities and even his own disciples that find his teaching too difficult. These bread stories come in some of the most difficult of times. Times of distress. Times of trouble. And so there was Pastor Kaj Munk, preaching and presiding at the table under direct orders by the nazis not to. But I ask again, if this is Christ we are giving away, then how can we do any other? And so the last thing Pastor Munk did was feed people with the bread of life through pulpit and table. He was found later executed by the gestapo. And so Wednesday is Pastor Munk’s commerative Saint day, but truly we commemorate Christ among us as the Bread of Life. We commemorate God meeting us here in the word and in the bread and wine. Christ is our staple diet. Christ is our daily bread. Christ is our food we turn to meal after meal knowing that here we will be sustained. Here God meets us in our wilderness and provides just what we need for our journey. His body broken for you. Amen.

Sermon for August 4th 11th Sunday after Pentecost

Sermon for  August 4, 2024                                                                  11th Sunday after Pentecost

John 6 and Exodus 16 The Lessons of Manna

Do you know what “shrinkflation” is? Have you ever heard of shrinkflation? It’s when companies reduce the size of the product or packaging, but maintain the same price. This is just one of the lovely ways the corporations gouge us for profit. For example, here are pictures of potato chips, chocolate bars, popular drinks and packaging.  The idea is to deliver you less and less all while charging you more and more. We are literally paying for air; which means we will never have enough. It is no wonder that our nature then is to be deeply skeptical, to assume everything is a scam. We are distrustful of any packaging. And it turns us into hoarders because we never have enough.

So when God devises a test in order to see if he can overcome our distrustful nature, what do you think he’ll find? It says so right in our Exodus reading, “I will test them, whether they will follow my instruction or not.” I will test them. And what is God’s test? Manna. The test is “manna.” There are so many lessons for us to learn from the manna; but most important is the lesson to learn to trust. After all the shrinkflation, after all the scams and the corporate profits and CEOs and their bought-and-paid-for politicians...all the ways we have been conditioned NOT to trust, can God ever teach us to truly trust again?

If manna is the test, then what lessons can we learn? What does manna teach us about human nature? And what does manna teach us about God? About human nature…what is the first thing the Israelites do in our story? They complain. The first lesson of manna is we are first and foremost deep in our nature…complainers. They complain that they’re hungry. They grumble that they’re thirsty. And I love that in their complaining they are looking for someone to blame and acutely misrepresent the situation. They blame Moses and Aaron, “Why did you lead us out into this desert to die?!” And then the misrepresentation, “At least in Egypt we had pots filled with meat. Boy, did we ever have it good in Egypt!” Really? Did they? Did they have it good in Egypt? I seem to remember just a few chapters ago it describing how awful they were treated in slavery and forced labor. So, what do we learn about human nature from this story? First, we like to complain. And in our complaining we look for someone else to blame and we tend to have selective and quite damaged memory about how things used to be.

The lessons of manna not only teach us about ourselves and our nature, but more importantly the lessons of manna teach us about God. What does manna teach us about God? First and foremost, God provides. God is our provider and God provides enough. The manna story reminds me of the feeding of the 5000 where everybody had enough. It says everybody was fed and everybody was filled. All had enough. It is such an incredible blessing to be able to say those words, “I have enough. I am satisfied.” Because we are deeply conditioned to believe we don’t have enough; that we would be truly happy if we just had a little bit more. Did you know sheep won’t lie down until they are satisfied. And so when in the 23rd psalm it says, “You lay me down in green pastures,” it is a picture of sheep completely satisfied. They have enough. We are conditioned by things like shrinkflation to believe we never have enough. Someone is always trying to scam us or steal from us. The greedy fat-cats are charging us more and more for less and less. How could we every truly trust? I tell people the only way to earn someone’s trust is to be trustworthy. So what does God do? God proves trustworthy. God provides. And God provides enough. Until each of us can say, “I am satisfied.” This is how God will create trust.

Of course one of the greatest tests of the lesson of the manna comes when God commands them to gather as much as they need for their household, but only enough for one day…today. And human nature being what it is, what do they do? They gather up and hoard as much as they can. But really, what’s the harm in that? No one’s getting hurt! The manna is just laying there on the ground! But the lesson is, “Will you trust?” Are we ever able to overcome our fearful and distrustful nature, and can we ever learn to truly trust? And so all that hoarded manna, what happens to it? It gets filled with maggots and turns rotten. Hoarding literally stinks. And this lesson is a hard one for us because we’re all really good at planning for tomorrow. Chances are every one of you has stuff in the back of your freezers that’s been there since 2003.  I remember a student asking our professor in seminary, “But if God has provided enough, then why are there hungry and poor people in the world?” And my seminary professor dropped the weight of the law on them when they answered, “Because you needed a bigger television.” We might watch shows about hoarders to feel better about ourselves, but the truth is we are all selfish and greedy and our own hoarding likewise stinks. We might pray every week for “daily bread” but we are really bad at actually trusting “daily.” But notice, God promises to send manna, and more than enough. And they are filled and satisfied. But God doesn’t say anything about tomorrow. He promises just enough for today. God is teaching them to trust in daily bread. And in fact, if you gather more than enough for today it turns to rot. Here is probably the greatest lesson of “daily” bread, as Jesus preaches elsewhere in the gospels he says, “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today.” Learning to trust God, really truly trusting that today’s daily bread is enough, that God provides and God will provide enough again and again, these are the lessons of manna and these are the most important lessons as well when Jesus says to the crowds, “I am the true bread that comes down from heaven.”

I think one of the most important things here, as Jesus states this amazing promise, “I am the true bread from heaven,” is that Jesus doesn’t offer to give them bread (although Lord knows he certainly can! He just fed over 5000 people!), no he doesn’t promise to give them bread or point out where they can find bread, but he says to them, “I Am the Bread.” When the crowds inquire of him, “What must we do? Give us a sign!” Jesus effectively says to them, “I Am the sign! I’m it! What must you do? Trust in me, that’s what you must do!” How will God finally prove that He is trustworthy? Answer: by sending Christ to be the promise, to be the bread, to be the manna providing for our every need and filling us that we might say, “I have enough.” This is our daily bread. This is how we will finally learn to trust.  And I love this. That Jesus doesn’t point us to the Kingdom of God; but he is the Kingdom of God come among us. Jesus doesn’t show us the way to heaven; but he is the Way. He doesn’t offer us bread if we’re good or religious or holy enough; but he is the bread, the living bread from heaven. All the lessons of manna are here in Jesus our living manna: that God provides and God provides enough; abundance for today; lessons of trust. Do we still grumble and complain and blame? Are we still guilty of hoarding? Of course! But Jesus is our daily bread. Jesus is our faith. In him we finally learn to truly trust. Amen.