Sermon for July 28th 10th Sunday after Pentecost

Sermon for  July 28, 2024                                                10th Sunday after Pentecost

Mark 6 The Beheading of John the Baptist

I am going to preach a political sermon. Are you ready? (groans…) Ok, here we go, political sermon… Take care of the poor. Feed the hungry. Clothe the naked. Set the bound free. Now, I know y’all get upset when I preach a political sermon, ‘cause you tell me. So I apologize if that made you uncomfortable. But I promise, I’ll wait a long time before I tell you to feed the hungry again. J (Wait, pastor, I think that’s sarcasm.)

Whenever folks complain they thought a sermon was too “political” I try and explain the difference between partisan and political. Partisan means of a particular party, telling you which party or which candidate to support or vote for. And Lord knows there are some churches out their guilty of that. But the word political comes from the greek word polis meaning “of the people or community.” So, while politics is often confused with partisanship, politics is simply the negotiating of life together in society, like, how shall we care for the poor or the elderly or the sick or the oppressed. In that regard, the gospel of Jesus Christ makes great political demands on those who strive to live by it. So was Jesus political? Did Jesus preach political sermons? You bet he did. And what about John the Baptist? Was he political? He he. In today’s gospel text John the Baptist literally preaches a sermon against a local political leader, right? And I can hear Herod’s wife complaining, “I don’t like John’s preaching; it is too political.” And she was right! Even today political sermons aren’t very popular. And I think the proof is in the pudding that both John and Jesus will pay with their lives for preaching against those in power and protesting the status quo.

John got into some hot water when he began preaching against the marriage of King Herod. Now this isn’t the King Herod from Jesus’ birth story who killed all the boys under two in and around Bethlehem. That was his father, Herod the Great. Herod the Great had four sons, all named Herod. This Herod is Herod Antipas, the same Herod who will have Jesus before him on trial later in the passion story. Herod Antipas had a brother Herod Philip who married his niece, Herodias. Herod Antipas convinced his niece, Herodias, to leave his brother Herod Philip and marry him instead. It’s like they say, incest is a game the whole family can play. So there is John the Baptist, preaching against the sin of this ruling family and the illegality of their marriage. Now everyone knows women love to be scorned. Especially shamed in regards to their relationship choices, right? And so Herodias is holding on to this grudge, biding her time. Herod has John arrested, but he keeps John alive because he believes John is a prophet, righteous and holy, and he even likes to listen to John preach. But, when the opportunity came when Herod had his birthday party, Herodias sent her daughter out to dance for the King. Her dancing so pleased the king (her step-father/great-uncle…ewww!) Herod offered her anything she asked for. She consulted with her mother who said, “Ask for the head of John the Baptist.” And this dear, sweet girl then added her own embellishment… “on a platter.”

Now, in Herod’s defense, at least he kept his word, right?  I mean, he had to keep his honor in front of all his party guests. He’d made a promise to his step-daughter, at least he kept it. And it did say he thought John was righteous and holy and liked to hear him preach. I mean, if anything, Herod is the good guy in this story, right? And here’s the crux of the matter, here’s the point I want to make this morning. John was not killed by brigands or rogues. He was not killed by some depraved rabble. John was killed by the very best. By the Honorable King, keeping his word. Poor Herod couldn’t possibly lose face in front of his guests, even though he found John to be righteous and holy. And so John was killed in order to keep the honor of King Herod, the tetrarch of Galilee.

It is often pointed out that the death of John the Baptist foreshadows or mirrors the death of Christ. Both men are regarded as prophets, righteous and holy. Both men are arrested unfairly and both men are executed by the state even though they were innocent. We see in the story of John’s death what is to come in the passion of Christ. For this reason I share one of my favorite quotes this week, in regards to John being killed by Herod, the “honorable” king. The quote says something like that Jesus was not killed by the worst humanity had to offer, but Jesus was killed by the best of humanity. That is, Jesus was not killed by some mindless rabble or thieving ruffians, but by the careful deliberations of respected religious rulers who justified their actions by the highest standards of morality and God’s law. The Jewish Temple system was religious authority at its absolute best. And likewise Jesus was not killed by lawless scoundrels, but by the Roman jurisprudence system, with official warrants, tried and executed by the Governor himself. The point being, Jesus (and by connection this morning, John) was not killed by the worst that humanity has to offer, but humanity at its absolute best.

And this, I think, is why “political” sermons are so offensive. Not because we might disagree on a particular topic, but because the preached word of Jesus Christ still challenges the status quo especially where those in power oppress the poor and vulnerable still today. This is the Gospel! Just as John mirrored Christ’s own ministry and his death foreshadows that of Christ, so too we are ambassadors of God’s kingdom today, speaking the truth of God’s word to powers that oppress despite all consequences. That means for the church there is no left or right or political party, and it makes no difference if it is Kamala or Joe running or who we support if the power of Empire continues to bring injustice and suffering to the poor and needy. I love Bishop William Barber, former director of the Poor People’s Campaign, and an amazing preacher if you ever want to google him. He says that preachers don’t get to opt out of politics; that we can either be chaplains of the Empire, or prophets of God. But we can’t be both. We can either be chaplains of Empire, or prophets of God. Notice this same definition of “politics” as not a particular party or candidate, but having to do with how we negotiate life together in society, particularly when it comes to taking care of the poor and disadvantaged. Is the church in America an extension of Empire, protecting and guarding the status quo and those in power? Or are churches an extension of the Kingdom of God, revealed in John the Baptist and finally in Christ Jesus?

There is a warning here, obviously. I could tell you, like John, not to lose your head, but there is a cost for standing up to power. Both John and Jesus paid with their lives. Every one of Jesus’ disciples, except for John the Gospel Writer, died brutal martyr deaths. Paul beheaded. Peter crucified upside down. Stephen stoned to death. On the one hand, you should all be fleeing for the exits. But on the other hand, this is and remains true, that Jesus Christ came to enact the Kingdom of God. That in the beatitudes the Kingdom is revealed as Jesus came blessing the poor, filling those who are hungry, supporting those who are weak and giving justice to the oppressed and setting free all who are in any kind of bondage. This challenges me and exposes me because I see all the ways I benefit from the status quo. How I directly gain. Which makes me complicit. I am the one guilty of killing that trouble-maker Jesus. But on the other hand, the Gospel of Jesus Christ is not neutral, it is still active and disrupting the world and the powers-that-be today. We am disrupted. We are put to death. But we are also renewed and called into service. And the church is put on the front lines where we too have the opportunity to participate in the amazing kingdom work of blessing the poor, filling those who are hungry, supporting those who are weak, giving justice to the oppressed, and setting free all who are bound. That makes us as workers of God’s kingdom deeply political. Amen.

Sermon for July 21st 9th Sunday after Pentecost

Sermon for  July 21, 2024                                                    9th Sunday after Pentecost

Mark 6 The Healing Ministry of Christ

Do you ever get stuck watching those little tik tok videos on youtube or facebook? Ugh. I’ll get lost just scrolling and scrolling watching dumb little videos and next thing I know an hour’s blown by. But there are some that are really quite beautiful; some of my favorites are when people who are deaf get an implant and are filmed hearing for the very first time. Or men who are colorblind putting on special glasses to let them see color for the very first time. It’s really quite emotional for everyone when one of these modern-day “healings” takes place. My father is a retired ophthalmologist and he tells stories of volunteering on the mercy ships where he would go and perform eye surgeries in under-developed countries. People who had never seen in their entire lives, but with a fairly simple corrective surgery my dad was able to restore their vision. He might as well have been a miracle worker with the reactions he was getting. Can you imagine?

Our celebration of these modern day miracles today gives us a glimpse I think into the healing ministry of Christ. There is this short verse from the end of our gospel text that says, “Everyone rushed about that whole region bringing to him the sick. And wherever he went…all were healed.” This is similar to the verse we read before the service of anointing prayers, just one verse from Luke 4, “When the sun was setting, the people brought to Jesus all who had various kinds of sickness, and laying his hands on each one, he healed them.” All who were sick were brought to him, and all were healed. Last week we heard the feeding of the 5000 story. At the beginning of that story the crowds are following Jesus and his disciples out into this remote and rugged territory. It says that when Jesus saw them he was filled with compassion. Why? Because, it says, they were like sheep without a shepherd. I love this, because it gives us an insight into what Jesus sees. What is Jesus thinking? What are his attitudes? We don’t often get told Jesus’ motive. Here his motive is: compassion. He had compassion on them. Now, if I was trying to get away for some alone time and five-thousand of you followed you wouldn’t want to know my attitude! But here we see the heart of Christ – compassion. He had compassion on them because they were like sheep without a shepherd. But then he proceeds to teach them…it says, all day. I imagine more than one person came out there following Jesus expecting healing. Do you think they came for a day-long sermon? Cause that’s what they got! But then we get to the end of the chapter and there is Jesus laying hands on each and every person brought to him, no matter the illness, no matter the disease, blind, deaf, demon-possessed…Jesus healed them, each and every last one of them.

One of the more important things I learned studying the original language of the gospels is that this word for healing can be translated as healing, wholeness or wellness, but is also the same word for salvation. That means the word for healing and the word for salvation are the same word. This is surprising because we think of healing and being saved as two very different categories, but in the Greek it is the same word. Several times in the Gospels Jesus says to someone he has healed, “Go, your faith has healed you.” Sometimes translations say, “Go, your faith has saved you.” And it is the same thing. You are healed, made well, made whole, you are saved. This is what Jesus does. This is his ministry. Healing, forgiving, setting people free…this is how he comes to save us!

A lot of the times on the ER shows on TV they will short-hand refer to people by their affliction, “We’ve got a head trauma in six…there’s a hemorrhage on nine!” When Jesus takes compassion on the crowd, he doesn’t just see whatever particular or specific malady from which they suffer, “Hmm, looks like a case of leprosy, I think I can help with this…” No he sees the whole person; they are suffering in part, and so they are in need of salvation for the whole. Jesus sees with Kingdom eyes. His work of healing, forgiving sins and raising the dead are all one and part of the whole work of his bringing the saving Kingdom of God. On earth as it is in heaven, we pray. Jesus brings and enacts the Kingdom of Heaven here on earth. And so he can heal someone who is crippled or blind and then send them on their way saying, “Your faith has saved you.” 

In this light, that healing and saving are the same work of the Kingdom, we can now ask the most important question, which is always bound to get asked, “Can Jesus heal me?” That’s fine that Jesus healed the sick and made the blind to see and all that back then in those old bible stories, but can Jesus heal me today? Does Jesus make any difference in my life? Those are ultimately the questions we are bound to ask, not just can Jesus heal, but can Jesus heal me? And we see from the context, it is the same question, that is fine that Jesus saves, but can Jesus save me? Can Jesus forgive me? Can Jesus truly love me? It is for this reason Luther was so insistent that when we serve communion the most important words are “for you.” This is the body of Christ broken for you. Not the Southern “you” of y’all, but you, sitting there right now listening to my words…you. So that we might receive reassurance that indeed, the Kingdom of God and all its promises is indeed for you.

One of my favorite healing prayers I learned over the years is praying for someone to experience “God’s healing in absence of a cure.” That is, we have in mind a particular “cure.” God is going to heal the pain in my back or cure the cancer. But in the gospels healing is never limited to a “cure,” it is the whole person, the whole body/mind/soul wellness and even what we call your salvation. The prayer for ‘healing in the absence of a cure’ reminds us that when the Kingdom comes to us we receive the gift of healing even if there is not a particular “cure.” I find that more hopeful that the many false messages about healing that all sound like, “Well, if you had more faith you would be healed.” That somehow it is your fault for not praying enough or asking the right way or for having strong enough faith…as if faith is something you are responsible for. That is all pure hog-wash and has done a lot of damage to people over the years seeking God. Limiting God’s saving work to receiving a “cure” misses God’s compassionate work of healing that happens every time we receive his promises and eat the bread and wine. We end up either blaming God or blaming ourselves. That it is God’s fault for not being powerful enough or not listening or being caring enough. Or we blame ourselves that our faith must not be strong enough. What this blame does is misses the promise of the death and resurrection of Christ which is our ultimate healing.

Sarah’s grandfather was a pastor who claimed miraculous healings and wouldn’t let you leave until you spoke in tongues. I remember him telling me how three times the doctors had left him for dead, riddled with cancer and three times God had healed him and the doctors could not explain the scans now free of cancer. Me, not knowing when to keep my mouth shut, said, “Yeah, but you’re still gonna die.” My point was he had placed so much currency in the “cure” these signs pointing to the Kingdom, when the greatest currency is the very death and resurrection of Christ. We don’t have to point to the kingdom when we have the very thing. God’s saving Kingdom is here at work among you. And the word for saving and the word for healing are the same word. When you come up for communion and receive the bread and wine, you are able to announce, “I have been healed!” And it is true!

What we know is that Jesus looks at us with compassion. Deep emotion and feeling because we are like sheep without a shepherd. We are in need of all kinds of healing, from forgiveness to anger or judgmentalism…we are deeply sick. And Jesus layed his hands on each one of them and healed them.

And so as you come forward today hear the Kingdom promises as they come to you. When you receive the bread and wine, listen for those most important words that this is “for you.” This isn’t just the Kingdom of God hanging out there somewhere for only the most intrepid to find, but this is God coming to you, this is God’s salvation for you. Receive God’s healing. And then, should you choose, you can make your way over to our prayer ministers who will lay hands upon you and literally pray for Christ’s compassion upon you. Jesus said that in him “the Kingdom of God has come near.” And I believe that is still true today. God’s promises are right here, in the bread and wine, right here in the simple words “for you,” right here in the prayers and encouragement of the faithful. The Kingdom is still at work, and all came to him, and still all were healed. Amen

Sermon for July 14, 2024 8th Sunday after Pentecost

Guest Pastor Bishop Richard Jaech

Sermon for July 7, 2024 7th Sunday after Pentecost

Mark 6 Rejection of Jesus and Disciples

I grew up in the beautiful Skagit Valley, home of the tulip fields. My mom and dad still

comment on how they’ll be driving home from Seatac after a trip, and they’ll crest the top of

the hill at Conway and the then whole valley just opens up to you; and they always say no

matter where they have travelled there is nowhere as beautiful in the whole world. To quote

Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, “There’s no place like home.” Now, while to some, returning to

your hometown can be full of beauty and nostalgia (You can even buy a cheesy placard for

your living room that says, “Home is the starting place of love, hope and dreams.”), for others,

coming home, eh, it’s a little more complicated. I remember years ago when one of the

Lutheran churches in Mt. Vernon opened up for call and my mom was like, “You could come

home and be a pastor here!” And I was like, “Uh, no. These people knew me as a stupid kid.

They remember all the dumb stuff I did. You think they’d ever accept me as their pastor?”

Thomas Wolfe famously said, “You can never go home again.” And it is true insomuch as you

change, they change, but memory is a static thing. Even Taylor Swift, as mega-popular as she

is, said, “As supportive as my hometown is (she’s from Reading, Pennsylvania), in my High

School there are people who would probably walk up to me and punch me in the face.”

So in that light, did Jesus return to his hometown of Reading, Pennsylvania, with a naïve sense

of nostalgia? Or did he know he might get punched in the face? Maybe he thought they would

celebrate him and all the wonderful deeds of power he had done, the healings and casting out

demons. Jesus had certainly given them reason to celebrate his homecoming. Quite to the

contrary, no sooner had Jesus got up and preached in his hometown church in Nazareth than

they accused him, “Who does this Northern Yankee think he is?” Right? OK, so that’s the

movie “Sweet Home Alabama.” But really, they accuse him of getting too big for his britches.

“Who do you think you are? You think you’re better than us, now that you’re all famous and a

big deal? Besides, some of us remember that little business with your mommy and how she

wasn’t married when you were conceived.” You see, it was tradition and honorable to refer to

a man in that day as ‘son of his father.’ They should have called Jesus “Son of Joseph”; so when

they refer to him as “Son of Mary” this is really a startling dishonor. They are reminding him

that no one really knows who his daddy is and he might show up here thinking he’s a big deal,

but we all know he’s nothing but a bastard. And so they take offense at him. How dare he

think he can preach down to us. Their unbelief was so acute, it says it actually limited Jesus’

power to do healings in that place. Crazy, right?

You would expect Jesus to be nothing but celebrated in his hometown, heralded as local-boy-

makes-good, maybe even throw a parade in his honor. But for that matter, everywhere Jesus

goes there should be nothing but joyful receptions and faith overflowing like some old-

fashioned tent-revival. But it was never like that. Everywhere Jesus went he faced opposition,

rejection, even to the point of his own murder. And so what did the disciples expect? Maybe

they too were naively optimistic about the reception they would get when Jesus sent them out

into ministry, but Jesus warned them that when they were rejected they were to shake the

dust from their sandals as a testimony against them. He warned his disciples in no uncertain

terms, “If they persecuted me they will persecute you,” and again, “In this world you will have

trouble,” and finally, “If the world hates you it hated me first.” Christ expressly warns his

church that the work you do in this world will not be met with flowers and parades, but with

opposition and rejection. Why? What is it about the message of Jesus Christ that is so

offensive?

For a time there in my career I used to welcome everyone to church by saying, “Good

morning, sinners!” Now, for those who’ve been a part of the Lutheran church a while, they

know that saint and sinner is one of the favorite Lutheran paradoxes, so to playfully call

ourselves “sinner” is to be followed with, “Yeah, while of course I am a sinner, I’ve got good

news! Christ has called me saint. I am forgiven and a new creation.” It’s all kind of tongue-in-

cheek. It’s like calling a seven foot pro-wrestler “Tiny.” Maybe I used to be small, but look at

me now. However, the Old Adam, the Old Sinner can’t stand being reminded that, A) He is a

sinner, indeed and, B) he is daily being put to death by Christ’s word of forgiveness. The Old

Adam doesn’t want to be called ‘sinner’, he would rather play religious; and so people would

object, saying things like, “Do you really need to call us sinners every Sunday? I mean, these

are good people here,” or my favorite, “I’m just tired of coming to church and being told what

a bad person I am.” The Old Adam wants to think that he is on some great religious project

where calling one another sinner is inappropriate because I have worked really hard to be a

“good” person. It’s all tom-foolery of course. Luther in his Small Catechism says that

opposition to the gospel comes from three places: the self, the world and the devil. The self –

he means the old self, the old sinner who will always reject the gospel being done to us, that it

comes purely as a free gift from God and doesn’t require me to do anything religious first. The

world opposes the gospel because, well, the world is full of selfs! And the nature of the world

is selfish gain, complacency over injustice and suffering, and even violence to get ahead. And

finally, the devil. As if we needed any help opposing the gospel. The point being, there is very

real opposition to the gospel. And so when we ask, “Why is the message of Jesus Christ so

offensive?” Why would his hometown reject him? Why would the Pharisees and priests want

him dead? Why would the world hate him? It is because there are very real forces at work

opposing the gospel and those forces begin right here in your own selfish heart, my lovely little

sinners. 

No one likes to have their sins pointed out. Naming sins is painful. Take the prophet Ezekiel.

While the scroll that God gave to Ezekiel tasted sweet like honey in his mouth, the words

themselves were a burden to the Israelites. God warns him, “I am sending you to my people

Israel, a rebellious and sinful people, impudent and stubborn, but I am sending you to them.”

And then I love this verse, “And whether they hear or refuse to hear, that they shall know that

there has been a prophet among them.” I love it because it is kind of clarifying for me. I mean,

put quite simply: sinner’s gonna sin, devil’s gonna do what the devil does; the Old Adam is

gonna do his Old Adam stuff; and the Gospel is the Gospel. You can’t change the Gospel, it is

what it is. And you can’t change the Old Adam, he will always oppose God. So what’s your and

my job? Preach. Preach the Word. So that whether they hear the word or refuse to hear the

word, at least they might know that the promises of God were among them. Luther says that

God doesn’t sit around twiddling his thumbs while the self and the world and the devil oppose

and thwart his kingdom. Above all he sends his Word, his promises of forgiveness and eternal

life. Those promises when preached are the death of the old sinner and they are the

strengthening and encouraging of your faith. So like Ezekiel choking down that weird scroll on

our bulletin cover this morning, we have only been given one thing, and that is the word of

God. We only go out into this world that is hostile to God armed with only one thing, the

promises of Christ.

I close in that spirit with the words from our short little psalm this morning, Psalm 123,

“Though I have had my fill of contempt and my soul has had more than its fill of scorn; yet to

you, O Lord, I lift my eyes, You who are enthroned in the heavens for you have had mercy

upon us.” You have had mercy upon us. Despite the scorn and contempt, God’s mercy is

without end. This is the only word by which you are sent and it is God’s final word. Mercy

without end. Amen.

Sermon for June 30, 2024 6th Sunday after Pentecost

Mark 5 Jesus heals the woman with the bleed and Jairus’ daughter I am the youngest of five siblings. That means I was sometimes the victim of certain shenanigans. I remember one

time my older brother and his friends were grabbing the electric fence. We had two horses on the back acre and you only had to learn the lesson once not to brush up against the

electric fence. So my brother’s friend was grabbing the fence and going, “It’s not on! Look, it’s not shocking me!” I watched as he fully grabbed the fence for several seconds. “It must

not be on,” I thought. So I too reached out to test the fence by grabbing it. Unbeknownst to me, my older brother was at the switch-box watching; he had turned the power off for his

friend and now that his little brother was reaching for the fence he threw the power back on. Such is my deep mistrust of allyou older siblings out there. When the woman with the

bleed reached out and touched Jesus’ cloak I don’t think there was an electrical shock or current passing into her.Neither do I think there was a visible spark like the artwork on our

bulletin cover this morning. But there was an exchange of power! It says that the moment the womantouched Jesus’ cloak she felt in herself that she was healed. And what more it

says that Jesus likewise felt power go out from him. He stopped in the middle of this pressing crowd and asked, “Who touched me?” I love the disciples’ reaction, “The crowd is

literally pressing in on you from every side. How can you ask, ‘Who touched me?’” But Jesus is insistent; he is searching the crowd looking for who had touched him, he knew that

healing power had gone forth from him! The woman finally falls at Jesus’ feet, she is afraid and trembling, and tells him the truth of what had happened. She has had a menstrual

bleed these nlast twelve years. She had spent all her money on doctors but still the bleed only got worse. She thought to herself, “If I just touch his cloak I will be healed.” And so

she did. And did you hear Jesus’ next word? The very next word out of Jesus’ mouth is, “Daughter.” He calls the woman daughter. “Your faith has made you well, go in peace and be

healed from your disease.” I love this healing story. The faith the woman puts just in the hem of Jesus’ cloak reminds me of the mustard seed, or the mother asking for just a single

crumb from the master’s table. Just touching the hem of his cloak is enough; and she was healed. Power was exchanged as the healing power of Christ goes into this woman, making

her well. But the way Mark tells this story, it is beautifully woven and crafted as a story within a story. The healing of this woman with the twelve year bleed is right in the middle of

this healing story of Jairus’ daughter. Jairus was a leader in the local synagogue. As a religious leader, really he should have been opposed to Jesus, testing him and attempting to

discredit him like all the other religious leaders. Except Jairus had a daughter who was sick. And not just sick…at the point of death. The Greek is almost more of a gut-punch, it says

the little girl was, “holding at the end.” Holding at the end means the same thing of course as “at the point of death” but it has this sense of the end is here and she is barely holding

on by a thread as the end has come. It is a desperate time. She is only twelve years old; it is a tragic time. Out of this desperation, Jairus comes not as a religious leader, but as a

father, falling at Jesus’ feet and begging him again and again thathe might come and lay hands on her that she might be made well. It would have been a powerful scene, this

religious leader down in the dust begging at the feet of Jesus. A full testimony of the power and person of Jesus to heal and make well. It is a story within a story because we are

meant to see all the little similarities and parallels between Jairus and his daughter with the woman who came with the bleed. Both Jairus and the woman prostrate themselves at

Jesus feet. Both demonstrate this amazing faith that Jesus can heal. And of course how long had the woman had her bleed? (12 years) And how old was the little girl? (12 years) This

woman had had her bleed the entire length of time Jairus’ daughter had been alive. And my favorite, Jairus comes begging as a desperate father for his beloved daughter, and what

does Jesus call this grown woman who touched his cloak? He calls her daughter. Jesus sees this grown woman the same way Jairus begs for his own little girl. Now this all matters,

because as Jesus takes that extra time to search the crowd and ask who touched him, what happens? We find out the little girl has died. Jairus’ daughter who was “holding on at the

end” is holding on no more. She has lost her battle with whatever illness had plagued her and the news comes to Jairus there in the crowd, “Your daughter is dead. Do not trouble the

teacher any further.” We aren’t told Jairus’ reaction, but can you imagine having watched Jesus “waste” time in the crowd looking for whoever touched him. Even the whole

interaction with the woman was wasting time. She had had a bleed for twelve years; surely a few more moments would not have hurt her! Again, we see that Jesus could have used a

good triage nurse. This little girl over here is at the point of death, she has priority, heal her, then you can heal whoever you want with these chronic conditions. I don’t know about

Jairus, but I would have been furious; I mean, enraged. Overhearing what they are talking about, Jesus turns to Jairus and simply says, “Do not fear. Only believe.” The same faith

that sent Jairus to Jesus in the first place, Jesus seems to be saying, “What’s death got to do with it? You trusted me when she was hanging on at the edge of death; why do you not

trust now on the other side of that same edge?” Christians have this funny thinking that somehow death is final. Weird, right? That you have until your death bed to accept Jesus but

once you’ve died, well, there’s nothing Jesus can do, it’s too late. To which the one whom broke the seal of the tomb and shattered the bonds of death asks, “What’s death got to do

with it? Do not fear. Just believe. Am I the Lord of both life and death or not?” Do not fear; only trust. Jesus enters Jairus’ house and people are loudly weeping. They have every

reason to weep, but remember this is also a culture where people hired themselves out to be professional “wailers” because they were really good at it. Not to diminish the legitimate

grief, but there was also the belief that the louder the wailing the more honor to the deceased. Jesus asks, “What is with all this commotion? The child is not dead, only sleeping.”

Now, of course she is dead. They know she’s dead. And Jesus is no fool, he knows she’s dead. But he plays their absurdity with absurdity of his own, exposing their unfaith. They even

mock him and begin laughing at him. Point made, because if they were genuinely grieving they could not have laughed. But the mocking here reminds me of the unfaith of the

disciples earlier as they too mock Jesus, “There’s crowds all around you! How can you ask who touched me?” Unfaith is swirling around Jesus. The household, the disciples openly

mocking him. In this crowd of unfaith Jesus’ words to Jairus shine like a beacon, “Do not be afraid. Only believe.” Jesus takes only his closest disciples and the girl’s mother and

father into the dark room and approaching the sick bed takes the hand of the dead girl into his hand and says to her, “Little girl, rise up.” It is the exact same verb used later in the

New Testament to speak of the resurrection. “Rise up, little girl” is the same word as rising up with Christ. Jesus has joined this little girl to his own death and his own resurrection.

This is the power of Christ’s healing. This is the power that went out from him into the woman with the bleed. Not an electrical switch thrown as the shock of the fence comes back

on, but the power of his resurrection. The power of healing is Jesus’ power over illness and disease. His power is the defeat of the devil and all his forces. Jesus’ power is the power

over death. And Jesus’ power today for you is the power of his resurrection. Jesus raises two daughters in our text today. It makes no difference that one is at death’s door and the

other has lived with a chronic 12-year bleed; in Jesus’ eyes they are both daughters, both are his precious daughters and he is a desperate father to see them made well. This is how

Jesus sees us. Jesus sees you as his dear, precious child. Jesus sees you in your suffering and desperately wants you to be made well. Enough to suffer upon the cross, enough to taste

death and decay of the grave. There in the darkest corners of the tomb Jesus speaks to you, “Do not be afraid. Only believe.” And here in these waters, in the waters of baptism, and

again and again in our confession we are joined to Christ’s dying and then, how much more, are we joined to Christ’s rising as Jesus takes you by the hand and speaks, “Dear child.

Arise. Rise with me. I have joined you to my own death and resurrection. You are forever mine.” Amen.

Sermon for June 23, 2024 5th Sunday after Pentecost

Mark 4:35 Jesus Stills the Storm

So tomorrow morning bright and early we begin Vacation Bible School; I’m super excited and

also kind of nervous. I saw this meme this week of before and after VBS, so true. As I

mentioned and by all the decorations you saw coming in this morning (and by the way, don’t

you love our yellow submarine!?) our theme is Under the Sea, and this morning’s Gospel story

where Jesus calms the storm is actually one of our Bible stories this week, I think Tuesday,

right? And anyone who is even remotely a fan of Disney movies knows of course where we

stole the theme from. (Stole? …borrowed.) Under the Sea is one of the most iconic songs from

Disney’s The Little Mermaid, but no, we won’t be singing that particular song this week. I don’t

want to hear from Disney’s lawyers. But the Gospel story this morning certainly conjures up

images from the very beginning of the Little Mermaid movie. Prince Eric is out exploring and

gallivanting on a ship when a sudden storm swoops in. There is commotion and panic as fierce

winds blow and waves begin to buffet the ship. Lightning strikes the mast, starts a fire and of

course Prince Eric ends up overboard, sinking into the depths where he is saved by, of

course…Jesus! No, he isn’t saved by Jesus, but I had to bring it back to the Gospel. You see the

same scene in your mind, don’t you, as it says Jesus and the disciples took their fishing boats

out on the lake when a great windstorm arose, (just like Prince Eric) and the waves were

beating at the boats so that they were in danger of being swamped. But here’s the best

part…where was Jesus? Asleep in the back of the boat. How do you even sleep through a

storm? I don’t know, but we’ll get back to that later. First, a little more about that storm.

The Sea of Galilee is in a valley surrounded by mountains, so it was not uncommon for sudden

winds to sweep down and cause storms. In fact, as recently as 1992 a particularly violent

storm on the Sea of Galilee recorded waves at heights of over 10 feet. And Jesus’ disciples

were veteran fishermen; so they’d seen their fair share of storms. But there they are, bailing

water, legitimately afraid for the lives. So this was no ordinary storm. It literally calls it “a great

storm of wind,” but I love some of the other translations: a furious squall; a fierce windstorm;

or my favorite, a violent wind. Have you ever lived in hurricane country? Or tornado country?

They say it sounds like a locomotive bearing down on you and it is one of the most terrifying

experiences, and that’s just the sound of the wind. Add to that the violence of the waves and

wind…I don’t know about you, but I find the thought of being swept into the deep and

drowning as I sank into the abyss utterly terrifying. And so did the ancient Hebrews. The sea in

the Bible is almost always a metaphor for chaos and terror. We see it right away in Genesis 1:1

where it says in the beginning the earth was a formless void and the spirit hovered over the

waters, or the spirit moved over the deep. This is the Hebrew’s answer to the ancient

Babylonian creation myth of Marduk and Tiamat. Do you know this one? The god Marduk slays

the chaos dragon Tiamat with his sword and out of the divided chaos-beast the world is born.

Notice in the Hebrew creation story God likewise divides the watery-chaos-beast, only unlike

Marduk who uses a sword, God needs only…his Word. “Let there be…” and the ancient foe of

darkness and watery chaos is divided and slain. In the ancient world the dark watery depths

are representative of threats of death and anything that stands against the power of life. For

example Scriptures like Psalm 18, “The cords of death entangled me; the torrents of

destruction overwhelmed me.” Or Psalm 29, “The Lord sits enthroned over the flood.” Or

again our Psalm for this morning, Psalm 107, “They mounted up to the heavens and went

down to the depths; in their peril their courage melted away.   They reeled and staggered like

drunkards; they were at their wits’ end.   Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble, and he

brought them out of their distress.   He stilled the storm to a whisper; the waves of the sea were

hushed.” The storm as a symbol of all the powers standing against God, all the forces working

against God’s good order and God’s gift of life. And this was no ordinary storm, but as the

translation calls it, a furious storm or a violent wind. And remember, that the word for spirit is

also the word for breath or wind. And so when Genesis says the spirit moved over the waters,

the Spirit is God’s wind, God’s breath. It is the Spirit of life, the Spirit of creation. Whereas this

wind that threatens Jesus’ disciples is described as a “violent” wind. It is not a spirit of life, but

a spirit of violence. It stands opposed to God like a blaspheming spirit, filled with arrogance

and spite as it can only threaten with violence and cause death and destruction. But it is safe

to say this violent and blasphemous wind has met its match.

Again, where is Jesus? Asleep in the back of the boat. What do the disciples do? They rebuke

him, “Teacher, wake up! Do you not care that we are perishing?” Now, some say this is

evidence of the disciples’ faith, that they woke him up believing that he could perform a

miracle and save them. I say hogwash. Since when are the disciples ever an example of faith?

Rather, I think this is sheer panic turned to outrage as they are bailing water to save their skins

and Jesus is sleeping through it?! Shouldn’t he be helping with a bucket or something? What

good is Jesus asleep in the back of the boat? Aha, I actually think that is the most important

question we can ask: What good is a sleeping Jesus, anyways? I’ll come back to that for my

grand finale. So Jesus wakes up and what does he do? He rebukes the wind, “Silence! Be still!”

And…immediately the storm was silenced and the water became dead calm. Have you ever

woken up early in the morning when you’re camping and the lake is just glassy calm, so still it

reflects everything like a mirror. Imagine going from the storm at the beginning of The Little

Mermaid to that glassy calm. It says the disciples were terrified, and can you blame them?

They ask, and I think this is the right question, “Who is this that even the wind and waves obey

him?” Who is this, indeed? Remember when God slayed the watery chaos dragon with nothing

but his word? In John chapter one it says that Word was Christ, “In the beginning was the

word and the word was with God and the word was God…and the word became flesh and

dwelt among us.” That means that Jesus was the Word God used to divide the watery depths

in the beginning, and so really, what chance did this little storm on the Sea of Galilee stand

against this one, the Word made flesh? And so the disciples ask, “Who is this?” Who is this

indeed? This is none other than the very Word of God that called and ordered all things into

being. And so the disciples are faithless and full of fear, because who can possibly comprehend

that? And I think that is how Jesus was sleeping even as the winds blew violently and spray

from the waves stung his face; he slept because this storm was no threat to him, how could it

be? He is the Word that has existed from before all things. What did Jesus have to worry or

fear?

But that is the power of the promise for us! The watery deep is still symbolic of all things that

stand against God, all the powers of death and all the forces of terror and violence, and our

lives and our world are still profligate with those! From literal storms that are increasing in

intensity, to wars that rage in Gaza and Ukraine, to threats of violence here at home and of

course death’s knocking come to our own door – we know too well what it is to fear and lose

faith as the wind and waves batter us and the depths threaten to swallow us. Where is God

when the waves threaten us? Where is God when death comes for us? Where is God, as the

hymnist famously asks, when all the wrong seems oft so strong? Are you ready for the

answer? You’re gonna love it. Where is God? God is…asleep in the back of your boat.

Remember when I asked, what use is a sleeping Jesus? What use is a Christ who is asleep in

the back of the boat? What use is a Messiah dead and lying in a grave? What use is a dead

Messiah hanging on a cross? Answer: God, in his perfectly upside down kingdom uses that

which is useless to deliver the very best gifts of his kingdom. God uses the dead guy on the

cross to forgive the sins of the world. God uses the dead Messiah rotting in the tomb to defeat

death once and for all. And so it turns out, Jesus sleeping in the back of your boat is the most

powerful thing you can have, because that one sleeping is none other than God’s eternal

Word, there from the beginning of creation and there at the end of all things to call you into

his kingdom of new life. His word is your forgiveness. His word is your salvation. Turns out

there’s nothing else you need than Jesus sleeping in the back of your boat. Amen.