Sunday, April 12, 2026

Vicar Karla

          This spring, I am auditing a course at Luther Seminary. I have realized that since I am auditing and am not taking the course for credit but am rather there to just learn, that going to class and not needing to do assignments for courses is, in fact, every bit as enjoyable as I always imagined it to be. A couple of weeks ago, I was on campus with my fellow classmates for the on campus portion of the course. In a break between course sessions, a few of us found ourselves chatting in the comfy chairs outside the classroom. The four of us are all pretty far along in our seminary educations and candidacy for Word and Sacrament. I am on internship, another student is about to start internship, and the other two have completed their internships and will shortly beginning their first calls as pastors in congregations.

          Inevitably, as it was Feburary, we found the topic of conversation drifting toward all that was happening in Minnesota with regards to the occupation of ICE and CPB officers, and specifically, we found ourselves talking about how churches and clergy have been responding. This was not long after the 100 clergy were arrested for blocking deportation flights, including several of our Wildfire pastors. One of my friends said something I don’t think I will soon forget. She said that as she was reflecting on her soon to be complete seminary education, she has identified how her thinking has changed since she started. In particular, she noted that when she started seminary, the potential impact to her social life was what she would have identified as being her biggest concern of following this call to be a pastor. Would she be able to find someone to date? Is that something she was supposed to lead with on the dating apps or do you share it later type of thing? But, now, as she prepares to begin her first call as a pastor, her biggest concern is, am I going to need to take on bodily harm to protect and advocate for my neighbors? Am I going to need to put my body on the line? We noted the Episcopal bishop in New England who was pushing his clergy to have their wills and affairs in order because the time is coming when they may face a very real need to do just that.

          And so I wonder, is that what the disciples might have been thinking as they continue on their journey. Being seen with Jesus, the one who was murdered for insurrection against the Roman Empire would have made them targets of facing the same fate. When they left home they were probably aware that their decision to leave everything they knew to follow this Gallilean outsider would have been viewed as a questionable decision. What was the worst that would happen, though? They get made fun of at family dinner when they got back home? Well now, all of a sudden, they are faced with the fear of so much more happening to them for their involvement in Jesus’ ministry. The man that they followed, who they had sacrificed for, was gone, seemingly along with the assurance that he was in fact the messiah they had all longed for. What would be waiting upon arriving home? Where was home? Were Roman soldiers going to come after them and punish them or even their families?

          And then, as they are journeying on that road, Jesus meets them, surprising them. Not only do they not recognize him but they are shocked that here is someone who hasn’t heard the news of what has just occurred in Jerusalem. I am sure it would have seemed absolutely wild to them- that their worlds have completely shifted and changed in every way imaginable and here is a new person who doesn’t have any concept and whose world seemingly has just kept on turning while their world would have been completely turned upside down.And then, this stranger doesn’t just pass them by, not only does he meet them there in the road, but he continues walking alongside them for quite a long walk.

When I studied abroad in Sweden during my sophomore year at Gustavus, our group took a day trip to see the factory where the dala horses, so famous in Sweden, are made and painted. We were staying in a folk school about ten kilometers from the factory which was a bit removed in a more rural village. We boarded the bus and learned about the history of the horses and the painting traditions. We took some photos, bought some souvenirs, and had a grand time. Until we missed our bus to go back to town. We had two choices. We could wait for the next bus, about 8 hours away, or we could walk back. Now keep in mind this was a really tiny town. Pretty much the only thing we could have done to pass the time would have been to sit at a bus stop. So, we collectively just started the 10 kilometer trek and remember that none of us were wearing clothing or footwear with the notion of needing to be able to walk that distance that day.

As we were finishing the walk, we were very hungry and we were tired and our feet hurt. Such a terrible trifecta. As we started that final mile or so, we looked up and saw the golden arches of McDonalds, and to this day, I don’t think McDonalds has ever tasted so good. And this story is one of our shared favorite memories from our semester that we still laugh about all these years later. It just so happens that the distance we traversed that day was about the length of the walk that today’s disciples would have been walking to Emmaus. Aka I can attest that there would have been plenty of time for conversation and connections.

          Throughout the Torah, the commandment to welcome the stranger appears 36 times. This means that Cleopas and the other disciples would have been very well versed and knowledgeable about the importance of honoring the stranger. It was not an accident that Jesus showed up as a stranger, and the word that is used here is the word that would have been translated to mean foreigner. In Greek, the word for stranger is paroikos. Oikos means “house,” so literally, par-oikos means “outside the house.” This is the same word that is used for someone who lives in a country without citizenship. Cleopas calls Jesus an “immigrant,” a “foreigner.” How often do we, too, assume that we understand and that others are outsiders who do not belong?

          If we look back to Jesus’ birth and the very start of his story, he came into this world as a stranger. A displaced Galilean, far away from home, born to parents who were guests in Bethlehem, without resources, without even a proper place to spend the night. And then, before they could even return home, they were forced to flee to Egypt for fear of their safety and their lives.      So, Jesus enters the world as a stranger. And here in today’s story from Luke, he is once again a stranger.

          How might our world look different if we saw Jesus reflected in the face of each stranger, each foreigner we met? Where are the places where the face, ministry, legacy of Jesus is present and alive, but we do not recognize it? Perhaps we don’t recognize it because our minds are already made up, that we feel we know the stories and experiences of someone we do not know. How much more wonderful could our world, this kingdom of God’s which we are tasked with creating here on Earth, look different if we could just remember to look for the face of Jesus in the stranger, in those who are different from us, those who are outsiders?

          Though he is not physically here, Jesus meets us on the road, on all roads, the short and easy traversable ones, and the very windy ones that we are forced to walk when we do not expect to and when we do not want to. Jesus meets us there all the same. And, even when he makes himself known to his friends, he makes it clear that it is peace that he brings. Just as he did when he was living and walking among them during his ministry on Earth.

          May we be brave enough to look for Jesus in the faces of those who are different from us, the outsiders, the lost, the forgotten, those who don’t share our same experiences or beliefs. As Christ meets us on the roads, so too, may we exemplify that love and presence to accompany and meet others on their own roads. Amen.

Easter Sunday, April 5, 2026

Easter Sermon

Let the people say, Christ is Risen! (Christ is risen indeed.)  Let the people say Alleluia! (ALLELUIA! )

This is the Easter message: Christ rose from the dead and we respond with a joyous “Alleluia” which is Latin for “Praise God!”  But that first Easter morning did not begin with a joyous shout of Alleluia.

Instead, in Matthew’s Gospel, it begins with a roar as the ground shook between the feet of two women, Mary Magdalene and another woman named Mary. They came to see the tomb where Jesus lay. They hadn’t expected a cosmic reaction. But the ground shook as an angel descended and rolled away the stone of the tomb which had been sealed. He was frightening to behold –the guards trembled and fainted. They looked like dead men. But to the astonished women, the angel says, “Do not be afraid, I know you are looking for Jesus who was crucified.”

“Do not be afraid.” These are the first words of most angels who visit people in the Bible so they must look pretty frightening. But the angel – whose name means “messenger” has a message to share with the women about Jesus: “He is not here, for he has been raised.”

This is the Easter message. But to the women, this must have seemed impossible. Everyone knew that what’s dead – stays dead. Perhaps sensing their doubt, the angel invites the women, “Come and See.”  He wants them to see for themselves that the tomb is empty. Jesus’ body isn’t there.

Experiencing an earthquake, watching a mighty angel breaking the bonds of a sealed tomb and witnessing an empty tomb would have been overwhelming enough, but the angel has one more message for the women. This one is a mission: “Go quickly and tell Jesus’ disciples that he has been raised. Jesus will meet you all in Galilee.”

This was a lot for the women to take in.  But they listened and then…following the advice of the angel to “Go quickly” – they ran. Matthew writes, “They left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy.

Fear and great joy: These two emotions would seem to be contradictory.

And yet… aren’t there times for us when fear and joy hold hands and we experience both of these at the same time?

When a new baby is born – we hope and pray for health for the baby and the mother with anticipation and joy and yet… with a little bit of fear too… until the first cry comes.  Then… it’s all joy.

Whenever we experience change – or even a new beginning in our life, fear and joy hold hands because often we are saying goodbye to the way things were in the past – students graduating from a school for example – they are joyful and excited for their next journey but also a bit scared, fearful of the unknown future. The same is true for our church as we talk about consolidation and becoming one brand new church together with First Lutheran and Cross of Glory. It is exciting and joy-filled as we dream about a bigger choir and perhaps having bells again and more people to do God’s work together. But the future can also be a little scary, just because it is unknown – and beyond our control.

The future certainly felt out of control for the two Marys. And, they had reason to fear. A fierce looking angel appeared; the whole cosmos was quaking. Two Roman guards were laying at their feet, looking dead. The tomb was empty! They saw them put Jesus’ body in the tomb. And yet, Jesus’ body was not there. Was not even death certain anymore?

The women had plenty of reasons to fear… but even more reasons for joy! The angel said that Jesus had risen!  Even a guarded stone tomb could not contain a resurrected Jesus. And then, the angel gave them hope for the future: Jesus would go ahead of them to Galilee.

Preacher and author Jim Wallis once said, "Don't base your hope on the evening news. Base your hope on Jesus and the resurrection, and watch for the evening news to change." I think he got the first part right. Regardless of how you get the news, it is rarely good and even less often is it hopeful.

Our hope is in Jesus and the resurrection. And because of this, we can’t just wait for the evening news to change. Like the two women, we too have a mission. We too have good news to share.

The angel told the Marys that Jesus was going before them and would meet them in Galilee. But, as they were running, suddenly, Jesus met them on the road. Jesus was with them – not just in the future. But Jesus was with them – and with us – Right Now. Jesus is God with us.

Despite having been beaten, spit upon, lied to, betrayed, tortured and finally, crucified, the resurrected Jesus does not speak words of hate, demanding restitution. He greets them and us with love and grace – saying “chairō” which can be translated as simply as “greetings” And it can mean: “Be glad!” or “Rejoice!” 

“Rejoice! Be Glad!”

With this greeting of love and grace and JOY, Jesus reflects the  character of God. As we read in Jeremiah: “God loves us with an everlasting love.” There are some that would portray God as vengeful and judgmental. But our God is the God of the covenant. Our God is the God of love. This is why Jesus came. Jesus came out of love, a love that is everlasting and gives us hope over despair; joy over sorrow and new life over death.

The power of death has been defeated. But this does not mean that we will live forever. No, as we are reminded every Ash Wednesday, “Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return.” We are mortal. But, because of the resurrection of Jesus, death no longer has the last word for him or for us.  Instead, the last word belongs to God: God’s love is what lasts.

And that love is what gives us hope, Resurrection Hope, for the future. Resurrection Hope propels us out of our lethargy and keeps us engaged in the world rather than simply staying home and watching the news from afar and wishing things would change. Resurrection Hope means acting in love in our everyday lives. The ways that we can do this are many: from buying groceries for the hungry through our offerings, delivering food to school kids through Everymeal, driving a neighbor’s kid to school, making a prayer shawl, supporting Global Refuge care for immigrant families, and simply doing acts of kindness every day – no matter how small. This is what makes up the Kingdom of God, the gift of love which comes from resurrection hope.

This hope does not comes from the news and our motivation does not come from fear. Our hope and our mission comes from Christ.

And so, like the two Marys, let our fear turn from fright to awe and let us respond to the Resurrection of Christ with joyful praise and worship. 

At the beginning of the service, you received a card from the children proclaiming the Good News. Let it be a reminder to you of God’s Good News. Stick it on your refrigerator or your bathroom mirror. Post it on your screen and on your facebook page. Let it be a reminder to you that Christ is alive and active in our world.  And so, Let the people say: Alleluia! (ALLELUIA! )  Let the people say Christ is risen.  Christ is Risen!  Amen.  

Palm Sunday, March 29, 2026

Vicar Karla Leitzman

            I have noticed a sort of interesting thing about myself in the way that I look at biblical texts. And that is, I have realized, that I sort of group all ancient times together. Biblical times are biblical times. Inadvertently, my brain just puts all ancient times into one category, which is honestly wild. Like, oh that all happened thousands of years ago, it’s all ancient biblical times and I’ll just tie that bow around it and move along. There are so many thousands of years of difference throughout the bible, especially when looking at both the Old and New Testaments.

             And this realization hit me particularly significantly as I thought about the prominent role the celebration of Passover plays in this whole story. Passover was, is still, at its heart, a celebration of liberation. As Jesus is riding into Jerusalem, devout Jews are preparing to commemorate a time when God freed them. Year after year, they came together, to celebrate God’s deliverance from the powerful and violent oppression from Egypt- from an oppressive super power. The Israelites were exploited by the powers of Egypt, who viewed them as expendable. And here they are now as they watch Jesus ride into Jerusalem, not atop a war horse but atop a lowly donkey, once again in the midst of being oppressed once again by another super power that views them as expendable, this time the Roman Empire. As they gathered together, laying down their cloaks in a showing of reverence of the king they wanted to deliver them, they wanted bold deliverance again. Every year they came together in their shared longing for that deliverance. But during this year, with the entrance of Jesus, they could practically taste the freedom and the liberation.

             And I think there’s a few things to note to reflect on this. They wanted something violent and vengeful and yet Jesus brings a humble arrival, a different kind of deliverance. They also used their past to give them strength and fortification for their present. Today, as gather for worship and we note the stark similarities to our current world to the time when the Roman Empire was in power, we take fortification from knowing that God has been here before. Just as the Israelites of Jesus’ day took fortification in knowing that God had been there before.

            The waving of the palms and the shouting of Hosanna signify that those gathered wanted, not just wanted, but yearned for, Jesus to act as their liberator. Jesus knew what the world wanted, what the world advocated for, and he brought something much different, much kinder, much softer. He could have brought what they wanted, but he knew he was directed to bring something else. And the same remains true today.

             I close with a Palm Sunday blessing from a favorite theologian, Cole Arthur Riley:

 “There is miracle in belonging to a God who rejects the image of a glorified hero and instead comes to us on a donkey, centering the plight of those who suffer. Liberation begins with this: do not be afraid.

 God of the Palms, thank you for drawing near to us. Thank you for showing us a different way: a God who rejects privilege, a God who is unbothered by sitting on a donkey if it means you are drawing near to us. As we wait, take away the fear that has settled on our souls. Help us to trust in the arrival of goodness even in the wake of suffering. Let this Palm Sunday speak the language of welcome, that we would never turn hope away when it appears to us.

 Do not be afraid. Liberation is coming.”  Amen

Sunday, March 22, 2026

I am one of those really lucky people whose best friend has been my best friend since we were about three years old. For decades she has been my person, my chosen sister, and there is something so beautiful and wonderful about getting to see each season of a beloved person’s life. Well, one of the seasons of our shared childhood was sheep herding misfits.

          She didn’t live on a farm, or really even a hobby farm necessarily, but for a while during her growing up, her parents decided that because they had several acres of land and a barn, that taking care of animals would be a good exercise in learning responsibility for her and her brother.

          Now one of the realities of growing up in a small rural community is that if you go to a friend’s house that happens to live on a farm, or on land that has a lot of work involved and your friend has to do chores before they can play, well you also have chores to do before you can play. So one of the times I was over at her house, we needed to do something to take care of those sheep. And, one of us left the gate open and the sheep would wander and we would have to figure out where they went and it was always such a hassle and frankly probably more than a couple of nine year olds should have been left in charge of.

So in today’s gospel reading, where Jesus describes himself as the gate which stands in the way of harm which can come to the sheep, I couldn’t help but think of my friend’s dad who would inevitably always need to come and rally the sheep, and they would listen to him where they wouldn’t listen to him. Jesus described himself as being the gate which protects the sheep from danger, and in this case, the gate was my friend’s dad and he was protecting the herd from the ineptitude of his daughter and her friend.

The gospel of John, different in many ways from Matthew, Mark, and Luke, is filled with imagery of God and God’s word becoming embodied in Jesus. Throughout John, we see God coming to the world through Jesus, completely shifting the reality of the time away from the values of the world and instead creating a reorientation back to God’s love and care.

          The gospel of John doesn’t really give us parables told by Jesus but we have one here. In a lot of ways, this story is both unique and familiar at the same time. The metaphor of God as a shepherd is very commonplace, throughout both the Old and New Testaments. Listeners would have known the importance of the role of the shepherd throughout all of those years. Many kings were referred to as shepherds of their people. Listeners in the ancient far east also would have known that sheep are incredibly vulnerable and therefore dependent upon the shepherd to protect and care for them.

Yet here in John, Jesus is not only described as being the shepherd but also the gate to the pen that keeps the sheep safe. And not a gate that merely functions as a device to keep in or out, but a gate that acts as protection. Here Jesus is the Good Shepherd, who knows each and every sheep by name, who loves each one, who is willing to lay down his life for their welfare. And, here we have Jesus the gate, the intermediary between his vulnerable beloved and the violence and harm of the world.

          So, what does it mean to be aware of Jesus’ identity as the Good Shepherd of today’s gospel when we are in the midst of our liturgical season of Lent? We are currently in the part of the church calendar where we journey with Christ to the cross, where we reflect on and lament the pain and forces of the world which facilitate that death on the cross as the outcome to Jesus sharing his ministry of love, justice, and care.

          And in that lament and reflection, we come to realize just how little everything seems to have changed in these last two thousand years. Jesus comes, then and now, to a world that is broken, filled with pain, where the powers of the Empire wage with violence and impunity. The Roman Empire, in its constant acquisition of land, money, and power, was actively taking from the poorest citizens to make the wealthy even wealthier. The outsiders, the strangers, the vulnerable, the ostracized,  were viewed as disposable and expendable, as not being important. Sound familiar?

          Jesus comes to turn it all upside down. Jesus comes, as the Good Shepherd, as one who acts as the gate, the check point, who both puts himself between his flock, his beloved, and the danger and violence that threatens to destroy them and still knows each and every one by name. He knows each story, each vulnerability. In this season of lament and reflection, we notice that God continues to show up and stand with the vulnerable, those the powers of the empire, of the world, push aside and view as expendable. Jesus says these are my beloved and they are anything but disposable.

                   Last January, I was lucky to go on a travel course through Luther Seminary. We traveled throughout Guatemala and Mexico, seeing the work that the Lutheran Church is doing in the region.

One day in Mexico City, we were visiting a migrant shelter. The shelter we happened to be at was a shelter for men only, and what began as us sitting with a few guests that afternoon, steadily grew adding more and more people. These men wanted to share their stories and they were harrowing. The majority were from central American countries, but several African countries were represented as well as some from South America and even some from the Middle East. Some were hoping to remain in Mexico to apply for asylum there while some still hoped to continue on to the United States. Many had been kidnapped while on their journey and when they learned that we had just been in southern Mexico which is where many of them ran into trouble, they were very concerned about our safety.

          As we were talking and listening to stories, everyone going back and forth between translating into and out of Spanish, we noticed one Asian man on the fringe of the room and little by little, he started to inch into the room to hear what was happening. We could see that he was holding out his phone, apparently trying to have it listen to translate. The woman who works for the Lutheran Church in Mexico and runs the shelter said that he was from China and that no one had been able to communicate with him in the month that he had been there. She said he tried to use his phone but it didn’t really work and how much she wanted to know his story.

          One of our classmates, who is originally from Taiwan, walked over to him and started speaking to him in Chinese. I will never, ever forget the look in his eyes when he realized that he could understand what someone was saying to him. As he told his story, which Christy translated into English which our professor then translated in Spanish, everyone was holding on to each word that was shared. We learned that he fled China as a political prisoner who had dared to speak out publicly about the Chinese government. We learned that Mexico was the eleventh country he had been in and that he had not spoken to another human being face to face in 10 months. With each piece he shared, he became more and more confident, more self assured, more aware that his story mattered.

          When he finished telling his story, all of the residents absolutely flocked to Christy. They needed her to tell him how happy they were to hear his story and they all wanted to know how to say some basic phrases to be able to speak to him. As we left, the pastor in Mexico who facilitated all this work said with tears in his eyes, “today God sent Christie.” That man’s story was known to God, and she got to be the one to share that story, that day she got to be the one who acted as the gate between silence and fear to feeling known and seen.

          At Global Refuge, we are honored to be able to share so many stories, to be able to accompany and to support God’s deeply beloved children.  And we can’t do it alone. We are grateful to you for joining in this holy and vital work alongside us and alongside those we serve. We are heartened that Jesus has been here, among the tumult and violence before and that Jesus is still here and will continue to be here empowering us on this journey.

 Let us pray,

 God of Solidarity, Thank you for being a God who enters the suffering of the world- who doesn’t run from those in pain but rushes to the site of blood, of tears. Guide us toward a solidarity that demands something of us. Let us learn to risk ourselves on behalf of the vulnerable, believing that when one of us is harmed, we all are. Help us to remember that justice and liberation are not a scarcity, and that our survival and dignity are wrapped up in one another. Secure in us the courage to stand, knowing together we will restore what the world has tried to suffocate in us. Amen.

Sunday, March 8, 2026

I love to watch kids playing on the beach building sandcastles. Some children build it and tear down. Others put a lot of work into it, building towers and moats and even drawbridges.  Some of the sand castle constructions that I have seen are works of art! And yet, they all have the same fate. When the tide comes in, they slowly, but surely, melt into the sea. We know that this will happen to sandcastles. But in our lesson, Jesus exposes some other things that we, as people, construct that are not lasting – and even may be harmful.

 “Can I have a drink of water?” It’s a simple question. But with that little question, Jesus challenges some long-held – centuries old -- societal taboos.  Jewish people did not speak with Samaritans and Rabbis did not talk with women. Although it seems odd to us, I mean, all he was doing was asking for a drink of water. But I’m told that even today, in the old city of Jerusalem, an orthodox rabbi will carry his prayer shawl in front of his face so that he does not see a woman on the way to the Western Wall – the wailing wall – of the old temple. But there is  a problem with carrying a shawl in front of face: you can’t see! And so, apparently, these rabbis are continually running into things. But despite this problem - they do it anyway.

 The Samaritan woman knew all of the taboos. She knew her place. She could have maintained the taboos by walking away or by ignoring this man, but instead, she got curious. She asked questions. And Jesus responded, “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.”  Again, she was curious. How could he do this? He doesn’t even have a bucket.  But again, Jesus offers: “Everyone who drinks of this water will never be thirsty again. Instead, it will become a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” 

Carrying water is a hard and unending task. We need water to drink, to cook, to clean and for sustaining life itself. And for a woman in Jesus’ day, this was a daily task – carrying water from the well, back home. This the Samaritan woman could not refuse: “Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to dray water.” 

The Samaritan woman did not understand what Jesus was offering. He has been speaking in images – on another level – much as he did in the chapter right before this when, Nicodemus, a Pharisee, came to see him. But there are differences between these two stories. Nicodemus came at night. Jesus initiates the conversation and is talking with Samaritan woman at noon under the bright hot sun. Nicodemus was expecting answers and he got riddles. The Samaritan woman was expecting rejection and she received an encounter with Jesus that changed her life.

 I think it was because she told the truth. When Jesus asked her to call her husband and return, she flatly said, “I have no husband.” Jesus seems amazed that she would tell the truth. Much has been made of the Samaritan woman’s back story. But Jesus doesn’t condemn her or even say, “Go and sin no more.” It may be that her husbands died or she was barren and had been divorced. But Jesus doesn’t dwell on it and neither does she. Instead, freed from that social stigma, the Samaritan woman begins asking the theological questions of the day, questions that had separated Samaritans and Jews. But again, Jesus sweeps away the divisions between God-loving people that humans had created. And instead, when she proclaims her faith in the coming of the Messiah, Jesus tells her who he is saying, “I AM.”  This is the ancient name that God spoke to Moses.

 Jesus, in the Gospel of John, uses the name “I AM” to reveal who he is.  Often, Jesus speaks metaphorically: I AM the bread of life; I AM the Good Shepherd, I am the Water of Life. Each of these “I AM” statements reveal a bit about who he is. But when speaking with the Samaritan woman, Jesus is more direct. Perhaps because she spoke plainly and truthfully to him, Jesus responded with “I AM” – and then, just to be clear, he said, “The one who is speaking to you.”

 At this moment two things happen. The disciples come back and the woman leaves her big stone water jar behind, the jar that carries the water that she needs every day for cooking and cleaning and drinking and instead, runs off to share this good news, saying, “Come and See.”

 “Come and See.” This is the same invitation that Jesus gives to his disciples. It’s a simple invitation, right?  Come and see for yourself the one who has told me everything that I have ever done – he can’t be the Messiah, can he?  The Samaritan woman doesn’t have all the answers. In fact, her question is honest – she is still wondering, still trying to figure out who Jesus is: this can’t be true, can it? And yet… it is also holds out a possibility, an invitation, that is hard to resist. Come and see for yourself.

Come and see. It is a good invitation. It’s not hard to say. It’s not “preachy.” It doesn’t claim any superiority. Instead, it invites curiosity.

 It makes me curious. What are the obstacles that get in our way of saying that very thing: “Come and See” to people that we meet or people that we know are not a part of a church community.

 What are the things that we need to set down, like the woman set down her waterjar, in order to share the good news?  What are the sand castles – that look insurmountable – that are getting gin our way?

 Is it because we are Minnesotan and Lutheran? 

Is it because we don’t want to be mistaken for groups that “proselytize”?

Is it because we don’t know how? Or are afraid that someone would say no?

 A pastor friend shared a story of a church youth group that was holding a car wash. He started to talk with them, asking about where they went to school and what they thought of the local football team.  They were engaged in good friendly banter. But then he asked, “What is the car wash for?” When they told him it was for a mission trip with their church, he asked them to tell them about their church. They answered, “Why don’t you talk to the pastor.”

Friends, that sounds like another sandcastle to me. You don’t have to be ordained to share about your church. All you have to be able to say is, “Come and See.” For example, this Wednesday we are hosting the Midweek Lenten soup supper. How hard would it be to say to your neighbor or a friend or a person who might have gone to a church a while ago but isn’t going anymore: “Hey, I’m going to my church’s Lenten soup supper and worship afterwards. Want to come with me?” What’s the worst thing that could happen? They say no?  What if they ask, “what happens at worship?”  You could say: We sing some songs, hear a message and pray and you can even light a candle if you want to.

 There is a loneliness epidemic in our country. And you have all it takes to make a difference. Not for the world. But for one person. One family. That’s how God’s love spreads: One person inviting another. And, even better, offering to go with them – or have a plan to meet them at the door. It is hard for me – and maybe you – to imagine, but the hardest steps for someone coming to church is to get through the doorway. There’s nothing wrong with the doorway. But it takes courage to enter a new space.

Because if you dare to do this, to take Jesus’ call to share the Good News seriously, you could be blessing another person in ways you cannot even imagine.

 A friend shared this story: Deb had a powerful business job. But then her husband got a promotion, they moved to a bigger house, had a baby who had some complications, and she quit her job to stay home with the child. It all happened pretty fast. This active, engaged woman suddenly found herself in a new suburb with no connections and with a very needy baby. And, as much as she loved her baby and her husband, she was lonely. As she tells her story, she wouldn’t have admitted that she was lonely. After all, she had a nice house, a faithful husband and a beautiful baby. What more could one want? She felt guilty for feeling like there was something else that she needed.

Her nextdoor neighbor had noticed when Deb was pregnant, and even that Deb’s car was now in the driveway instead of zipping out of the driveway at 6AM every morning like it had in the past. And so… when they happened to go to the mailbox at the same time, she asked Deb… “You wouldn’t want to come with me to a Mom’s group at my church would you?  It’s really casual – jeans and sweatshirts, talk about being moms, eat chocolate and drink coffee and do a little Bible study. You wouldn’t want to come with me, would you?  Deb said it was all she could do to keep from shouting, YES.

That little Bible study with chocolate became the entrance point for Deb – a person who had grown up in the church but then moved away from it – to re-engage with Jesus. She admitted later that she came for the chocolate and the companionship of other mothers but she ended up falling in love with Jesus. Like the Samaritan people, all she needed was an invitation, an opportunity to hear for herself, to spend some time in the Word with Jesus.  She later became a pastor. But her journey began by a simple invitation to come and see – and eat some chocolates.  

 Brothers and sisters, siblings in Christ, let us not get stuck in the sand houses of our perfectly reasonable objections that we carry with us. Instead, let’s set those down  and instead, take a risk to be curious, to seek out a stranger, a neighbor, a friend and say, “Come and See.” They will be glad that you did. And so will Jesus. Amen.

Sunday, March 1, 2026

Have you ever walked along a shore looking for just the right shell or a stone? I’ve done this many a time – on the North shore, by a lake, or on the beach. And each time, instead of picking up just one perfect stone to treasure, I come home with at least a pocketful. When our kids were young, they delighted in doing this too and so we would come home with sand buckets full of beautiful rocks. It got to the point where we had to practice catch and release with the rocks.

The scriptures for today have many gems within them. And normally, I follow my preaching professor’s rule to just “pick one scripture passage” and really dig into it. But today, I’m going to break that rule and instead give you three verses to put in your pocket, stick on your refrigerator or your bathroom mirror or, better yet, commit to memory. Because, over the years, I have found that there are times in your life when you need something to hold onto – and I can think of nothing better than scripture or two or three that you know by heart – because then these words are in your heart.

The first gem comes from the book of Genesis. God invites Abram and Sarai to go to an unknown place, and to birth a new people. God promises them, “I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing.” God hasn’t changed their names yet to Abraham and Sarah yet. God hasn’t even demanded – yet – that they worship only God. But God gives them this blessing and with it, a mission statement. God tells them “I will bless you… so that you will be a blessing” not only to one another – but so that “all the families of the earth shall be blessed.” God tells Abram and Sarai - you have a purpose.

God also promises protection for Abram and Sarai on their journey, saying, “I will bless those who bless you, and the one who curses you I will curse.” This is meant to assure Abram that God has his back. Notice it does not say that God will curse anyone Abram curses. Instead, God is offering protection for Abram for the journey – and promising a blessing through them to ALL the families of the earth.

Jesus is a descendent of Abraham. And are we. As Paul explains, in our baptism we are made brothers and sisters of Jesus Christ and have been adopted, or as he says, grafted onto the family of Abraham. This means that you too are a child of Abraham and so you too have been blessed to be a blessing. And so, in those days you feel as if you have no purpose, no meaning, and you want to give up – or at least put your head under pillow and say, “wake me up when the world gets less crazy,” remember the promise of God: “I will bless you… so that you will be a blessing.” For even in the darkest days – and even when you don’t feel particularly blessed, God is showering you and all the world with everyday blessings. God gives the sun to shine and the rain to water the earth. God gives us food to eat and resources enough to share. And, God also gives us a purpose – to be a blessing to others.

“You are blessed…to be a blessing.” This is a gem. And a good verse to start your morning.

Another verse, or rather pair of verses that I would commend to you are from Psalm 121: “I lift up my eyes to the hills; from where is my help to come? My help comes from the LORD, the maker of heaven and earth.”

I can’t tell you how many times or at how many hospital beds I have read those verses. Often, the person I am visiting will join me in the response, “My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth.” In times of trial, it is good to remember that you are not alone. But these verses are not only for crisis times. We need – and want – God’s presence and God’s help always.

The rest of the Psalm is a good reminder that God is with us. The Lord will not go to sleep on you but will be present, abiding with you always, every day, in every time and place. This does not mean that bad things will not happen. We live in a world that is full of evil, suffering and brokenness. This is the reason Jesus invites to pray: “lead us not into temptation and deliver us from evil.” We pray for God’s guidance and protection. And in this Psalm, we are assured that God will answer and will be with us.

The whole Psalm is good – but the desire, the desperate need for God’s help NOW is captured by the first verse: “I lift up my eyes to the hills; from where is my help to come? And the response is swift and sure: My help comes from the LORD, the maker of heaven and earth.” This is a good verse to have in your pocket for all of the days in which you could use a little assurance that you are not forgotten but that God is with you and is the one on whom you can depend.

There is one more scripture verse or rather verses that I want to commend to you: John 3:16 and 17. John 3:16 is very well known: For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.” Sometimes you see just the reference in places like football stadiums. This verse has been called the Gospel in a nutshell. For John 3:16 tells the story that it is because of God’s great love for the world that God sent Jesus to be our savior. And that is why it is good to memorize – because it tells the Good News in such few words. Unfortunately, this verse has been interpreted in ways that are exclusionary. And so, when taken alone, it can be read in that way. But there is not better interpretation of scripture than scripture and so I think it is important to read John 3:16 and 17 together. Verse 17 says, “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world but in order that the world might be saved through him.” This is the expansive love of God – and it was given for the whole world.

Sometimes it is good to look at a different translation in order to see the meaning of a scripture more clearly. The Message Bible translates these two verses in this way: This is how much God loved the world: He gave his Son, his one and only Son. And this is why: so that no one need be destroyed; by believing in him, anyone can have a whole and lasting life. God didn’t go to all the trouble of sending his Son merely to point an accusing finger, telling the world how bad it was. He came to help, to put the world right again.

The hard part about looking at different translations is that it becomes harder to remember – let alone memorize. But memorization is not the only way to hold onto these precious gems of scripture. In fact, it is getting less popular.

There was a time in which memorization of Bible verses was a big deal. Sunday school classes and Confirmation classes worked on memorizing scripture. And there is a good reason for this. The benefit of having memorized scripture is that it is with you – always. And in those times of trial, the words are right there. I only have to begin saying the 23rd Psalm or these two verses, and those who have had to memorize them can join right in. But rote memorization is not for everyone.

When I was in Seminary, there was a push to make sure that pastors knew their Bible. And so, someone decided the best way to do that was to test Seminary students with a Bible Exam and that you had to pass it in order to graduate. We were given a packet of Bible verses, an extensive list of potential questions and an invitation to read our Bible over the summer for the exam in the Fall. We were told that there would be a makeup if we did not pass the first time. However, I was pregnant at the time and knew that I could not afford to fail because not long after the test was given, I would have a baby. And, I had a feeling I would have even less time to study then. So that summer I studied. And read. And memorized scripture flash cards. Finally, it was time to take the Bible Exam. There were about 100 students at the time. I passed! Along with only six others.

The seminary professors who created the test were aghast. Did 90% of their students not know their Bible? At first, they thought this might be the case and so they tried to create classes and adapt the exam. But they finally discovered that many of my Seminary friends actually knew their Bible well and were also well versed in theology and pastoral care and preaching – but they simply could not memorize. Others were simply not good at taking this kind of test. Eventually, the seminary realized that this was not the best tool to promote the Bible and learning scripture.

This is to say, that rote memorization is one way to learn scripture. Another way is through music. All of the psalms can be chanted and some – like A Mighty Fortress and the 23rd Psalm and I’m sure others, have been sung to other tunes. Art is another way. Notice how many scripture verses are written in calligraphy in our narthex. And finally, many of the words of our liturgy are taken from scripture. So, you probably know more scripture than you realize. And, you all have a Bible at your homes and on your phones so you have the scripture close at hand.

Brothers and sisters, friends in Christ, may you hold these and other gems of scripture in your heart or in your pocket. Sing them. Write them on your doorposts or place them on your wall. Keep these gems near at hand so that may be what guides you, comforts you and strengthens you each and every day. Amen.

March 1 – Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran – Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

----------------------------------------------

Sunday, February 22, 2026

TRUST

A little while ago, as I was sitting in a car dealership waiting for some paperwork, I couldn’t help but notice a mother and two daughters sitting on a couch across the aisle facing me. They had a big bag of books and activities in front of them, clearly anticipating a long wait for their car to be repaired. They were adorable. But what struck me was the younger girl who turned to her sister and said, “You know we are allowed only one cookie. It doesn’t matter if it is a big cookie or a tiny little cookie. We are only to have one cookie. The older sister nodded, barely looking at her before going back to her book. The little girl squirmed a little and then turned to look at her mother. At which point, the mother bent over and looked straight into her daughter’s eyes and said, “It is hard. But you are right. One cookie is our rule.” Satisfied, the little girl picked up a picture book and started to read. I was impressed – the little girl knew the rule. And yet… she needed to make sure that it was a real boundary. And when her mother confirmed that it was, the little girl stopped worrying about cookies and settled into looking at a picture book. I was impressed – and so as I was leaving, I stopped to commend the mother on her wonderfully behaved children and her excellent parenting. She was surprised – and pleased that I had noticed.

It's probably not fair to compare, but, last week while I was waiting in a long airport line, I noticed another family. This was a big family and the children somehow couldn’t quite stay in the queue line but kept playing with the boundary markers, trying to swing on the belts – which of course made them fall off. The parents would scold them – but the child who was being scolded would blame the other and they would begin fighting – and then the parents would scold some more – but there were no consequences. And so, it would happen again. It was a long line. Secretly, I hoped this family was on a different airplane from mine. 

 The Genesis story reminded me of this family. God had provided abundantly for Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden telling them they could eat the fruit of any of the trees in the garden but had also given one exception: don’t eat from the tree of Good and Evil… or you will die.

 What is it in humans that make us want to test the boundaries? Is it our yearning to explore the unknown? Is it our skepticism of authority? Is it our desire to be self-sufficient, or to “do it myself” – as every 2 year old proclaims?

 This might be a part of it. When the “serpent” began to suggest to Eve and Adam – just to be clear, while Eve sometimes gets the blame, Adam was standing right next to Eve and the serpent addresses both of them saying, “You all” -  could be “like God.”  This was tempting. After all, wasn’t God wonderful? And wasn’t the apple “a delight” and “desirable?” And so, rather than stopping and wondering why God would tell them not to eat of this fruit and rather than trusting the words of God, they decided to see for themselves – and so they took a bite.

They didn’t die – at least not right away. But something died – their innocence perhaps and certainly their relationship with God. This little bitty bite meant that, instead of trusting in God and God’s words, they wanted to trust their own experience. As a result, instead of seeing themselves through God’s eyes, as God’s beloved, they saw that they were naked. And they were both embarrassed and afraid. God knew it immediately. Trust was broken.

Temptations and trials are part of life. This was true for Adam and Eve and for the Israelites as they journeyed to the promised land. Sometimes they trusted God and found blessings even in adversity and the challenges that faced them. And sometimes, they did not trust God and had to face the consequences – which is why they stayed in the wilderness so long even though the journey wasn’t long in miles, it took a long time to re-establish trust. 

 Fast forward to our Gospel story. Jesus is also experiencing temptations and trials in the wilderness. Although we read the story of Jesus’ baptism, more than a month ago, in Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus has just been baptized and proclaimed by God as, “My beloved son.” But rather than get to stay in the water and luxuriate in his new status…. “Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tested by the devil.”

 After fasting for 40 days and nights, Jesus is famished. And that is when the testing begins. The devil is clever, tempting Jesus with things that are not bad in and of themselves. After all, food is good and needed. Jesus later feeds the five thousand out of five loaves and two fish. And wasn’t it written in the scripture that God would protect him? And wasn’t he born to be the messiah, the king?

 But the important element in these temptations is not what is being offered but rather it’s a question of identity. At his baptism, Jesus God proclaimed him as God’s beloved son… but the “devil” dares him to prove it: “IF” you are the son of God then… turn these stones into bread.” And then… the devil gets even more tricky, using scripture to ask, “IF” you are the Son of God…and “IF” you believe in scripture then let God prove it…  

 In both cases, Jesus refuses to take the bait. He already knows who he is. He is God’s beloved son. He doesn’t need to prove it and he doesn’t need to ask God the Father to prove it. Instead, using scripture he tells the devil not to tempt God. 

 But the “devil” doesn’t take the hint and instead tries to bribe Jesus into easy and immediate “success.” Instead of suffering, pain, and death on a cross,– “just get down on your knee and worship me.”  You could have it all, right now.  Funny, but this sounds like some of the advertising I’ve heard. It all could be yours…. All you have to do is…

 This last temptation reveals the underlying question: who do you trust?  Jesus holds fast to his relationship with God and his trust in God. He knows who he is – the Son of God – and whose he is – he belongs in relationship with God. And with this solid foundation, Jesus begins his ministry and his journey to the cross.

 Last week as I watched the Olympics, I was amazed at the incredible feats of athleticism performed from people who came from all over the world. I especially love watching the ice skaters. I’m awed as they do triple turns and flips and spin incredibly fast. They all look just about perfect to me. And yet… one little mistake that I could barely see and the skater’s face turns from smiles to tears as hopes were dashed in a second’s time. There was one skater, however, Alysa Liu, who seemed different than most of the other skaters. She came out of retirement changed, expressing a desire to skate because she loves the art of skating rather than skating for the sake of competition. When asked if she could beat the Japanese skaters, Liu said, “Whether I beat them or not is not my goal.  My goal is just to do my programs and share my story. And I don't need to be over or under anyone to do that.” Isn’t that lovely? It  seems as if she doesn’t need to prove who she is. She knows that she is an excellent skater – whether she wins a medal for it or not.

 Brothers and sisters, siblings of Jesus Christ, remember who you are. You are God’s beloved child. Remember whose you are: You belong to Christ in whom you have been baptized. And now, reminded of our identity, as children of God, you and I can trust God on this journey. It will not be easy. But we know that we do not travel this road alone. Jesus is with us and has sent us the Holy Spirit to guide us. 

 We will still face challenges. Sometimes these challenges feel like a hole in our hearts  – whether from the loss of loved ones, hopes or dreams or “the way it used to be.”  At other times we may find ourselves pushing the boundaries, or wondering if the yearning we have inside of us can be filled. And, chances are, we will be tempted to believe that we can this hole by ourselves if only … we had a little more money, a new car or maybe just a piece of forbidden fruit – or another cookie? But it turns out… that even if you win the lottery… it’s not going to fill that hole.

And so, maybe the goal is not to fill the hole in our hearts, but rather to follow Jesus and the way of Jesus as we continue to walk this journey together, trusting in God to make us fully whole. Amen.

Ash Wednesday, February 18, 2026

          I really love the Olympics, especially the Winter Olympics. I do not miss the irony at how frequently I am on the couch in my sweatpants with snacks in hand pointing out, “oh yeah, see the way she landed on her skate, that’s going to affect the grade of execution and cost her some points.” Obviously, anyone just making it to the olympics is nothing short of astounding in and of itself, but there is just something about getting incredibly invested in the stories of these strangers on my tv, who I do not know, but I admire so much for the sheer will and dedication they have invested into making their dreams come true.

          Of course, along with those highpoints are the moments and the stories of tremendous disappointments. Minnesotan downhill skier Lindsey Vonn, a highly decorated olympian, suffered a series of awful injuries, ending her olympic career in a painful display. Ilia Malanen, known as the “quad god” for his ability to complete jump after jump with four rotations in the air was expected to come in and win it all, yet after several devastating falls, ended up coming in eighth and not even making the podium. These athletes can hit every mark over and over and over again, and one slight hiccup, one minor setback can mean the difference in all of it, whether their countless hours of practice and dedication and sacrifice will result in earning a medal to bring back to their home country. Watching the games has a way of illuminating the humility of remembering that even with so much work, so much dedication, there are still no guarantees.

          Obviously I am no Olympic athlete with all my couch commentaries and Cheetos, but these Olympic games this year have really been pushing me to reflect on our human and Earthly concepts of “achievement” as we begin this shared season of Lent. Now, I am not for a minute suggesting that these brilliant athletes shouldn’t be giving their all, striving to achieve and to push the limits. But what I am saying is that God doesn’t love Ilia Malanin any less because he surprised everyone and fell during his free skate and is not coming home with a medal. God doesn’t love Lindsay Vonn any less because she was injured and couldn’t finish her ski runs. And God does not love us any less when we fall short of the expectations and achievements the powers of this world pushes upon us. God’s love and grace are not dependent on what we achieve, what we earn, any of us. And, our mortality is not dependent on anything we do or do not do. The veil between the Earth and God’s heavenly kingdom is thin and so is the sobering reality that we are dust and to dust we will return, and it is our calling to use the time we have in between that dust to work individually and communally to make real God’s kingdom here on Earth.

          Jesus tells us in today’s gospel passage to not do this important work in a way that boasts, but to do so in a way that acknowledges that it is God who sees it. And, we are reminded to act. To pray with our feet. To not just pray for God’s intercession but to be God’s intercession.

I am buoyed beyond belief to see so many ways that people are quietly and not boastfully stepping up, interceding, to help their neighbors right now. And it is not lost on me that in the case of helping our closest neighbors right now, that their safety relies on us not boasting, not calling attention to it. I see teachers quietly and discreetly finding rides for their students whose families feel unsafe having them wait at bus stops or being on the buses.  I see pastors reaching out quietly to their networks to organize food drop offs for people who can’t leave their homes. And the lists go on and on and on.

          We begin this season of Lent, a season of lament and reflection by journeying with Jesus, by reflecting on what our own lives in Christ mean. The shortness and fleetingness of our Earthly lives are certain, just as is God’s love and redemption for us. It can be so easy for us to work ourselves to the bone to achieve, to make more money, to check boxes of certifications or accolades, but guess what, when we return to the dust, which we all will, we take none of those things with us. Not the awards, or the money, not the medals. What we do leave behind is the legacy of how we treated our neighbors and did the work Christ empowers us to do in the in between the dust times.

 Theologian Ben Cremer writes, “As we begin this journey of lent, may we begin by acknowledging the ashes of our best laid plans laid to waste. May we repent from all the ways we have expected Christ and his kingdom to look like the kings and empires of this world. May we rediscover the hope of Jesus, who brings breath where we only see dust and life where we only see death. Not through the violent forceful ways of the world, but through the self sacrificial love of the cross.”

 My prayer for myself and for all of us as we begin this season of reflection and of lament is that we take the time to notice the broken places of the world where we dwell which fall short of God’s directives to love and serve those in need. May we pray and then pray with our feet, doing this vital work of making real God’s kingdom here on Earth not to give accolades to ourselves but because it is precisely what we are freed to do.

In closing, I share the following prayer from Pastor Cole Arthur Riley, author of both This Here Flesh and Black Liturgies:

God of the Ashes,

 Today let us hold the tension of the story of our making- born of the dirt, beautifully connected to the earth we walk on. And yet, possessing the knowledge of our own mortality- that our common decay cannot be escaped. As we begin Lent, help us to become honest about the ways our societies and our selfhoods are marred by injustice, cruelty, neglect, and greed. Help us to see our own role in the degeneration of the world; that as we push back evil around us, we might also admit those secret evils that dwell in us. As we name how we’ve become complicit in the ashes of this world, help us to bear them in solidarity and hope. I, we will carry the ashes. God, bring rest to the suffering. There is breath in these ashes. No death is final.

 Amen.

Vicar Karla Leitzman

Sunday, February 15, 2026

Vicar Karla Leitzman

           I was one of those people that was beyond excited for the Super Bowl last week. Not because I particularly care about football in any capacity, but because I was so excited for the halftime show. You see, I love, like really love Benito Antonio Martinez Ocasio, or as he goes by his stage name, Bad Bunny. Even though my Spanish is pretty elementary and he sings really fast using Puerto Rican Spanish that goes over my head, I find his music electrifying and full of musicality, full of a desire to unify his audience.

 I love how committed he is to celebrating his homeland of Puerto Rico, playing a long residency there last year in order to generate millions of dollars of local revenue. His superbowl halftime show last week gave us a beautiful illustration of the celebration of Hispanic culture in a way that invited everyone, all of us in. Even with all of these things, one of the things I love most about Bad Bunny as an artist is how much he holds reverence and respect for those who came before him to pave the way for his success as a Puerto Rican artist. He is quick to credit those who came before him to make his success all the more resonate now.

          Whether it is accepting an award celebrating him as a top Latin Artist of the 21st century Puerto Rican from the iconic and now 93 year old Rita Moreno who was one of the first artists from Puerto Rico to become a household name, to featuring Ricky Martin as a guest performer during last week’s halftime show, he is always committed to honoring the artists, and really all of the people in his story who came before him. And whenever I watch him or any other artist or even any public figure do this, I inevitably always find myself reflecting on those who came before me to pave the way for all that I am able to achieve.

I think of all of the women pastors who have come before and whose shoulders all women clergy today stand upon. After all, in the more than two thousand years since Christianity’s inception and in the five hundred and nine years since the protestant reformation which gave birth to Lutheranism, it’s only been 56 years since the ELCA started ordaining women. At that, there are still fewer Christian denominations that do ordain women than those which do not. Any of us who are either female pastors or hopeful female pastors are only able to pursue those avenues because of those who came before us, not unlike how Bad Bunny was able to achieve all that he has thanks in no small part to those who came before him. This is a practice that many marginalized cultures engage in regularly, asking the ancestors, those who came before, to give them strength and fortitude for challenging times, as well as joyfully celebrating that those ancestors are here now celebrating right alongside them.

Today is Transfiguration Sunday in the church and this day serves as a hinge in a lot of a way as we transition to a new season. For the weeks and months behind us, we have, in Advent, prepared to welcome God coming to the world as Jesus. During the Christmas season, we celebrated that God comes to the world, brightening our resolve and our joy to live out and share that good news. In Ephipany, we recognised and celebrated the kings from the East who followed the star to pay homage to the Christchild, who warned Jesus’ family about King Herod’s fear at this tiny baby becoming more powerful than him, and unfortunately powerful men who get scared are sometimes the most dangerous. This ultimately led to this family fleeing quickly for fear for their safety to Egypt where they lived in exile until Herod’s death. In the last couple months of our liturgical calendar, we have commemorated so much together.

So today, Transfiguration Sunday, is a day that serves as a bridge in many ways. We hear the story of Jesus being illuminated, solidifying his identity as God’s son, the one sent to Earth to be the earthly manifestation of God’s love, grace, mercy, and justice. We hear the voice telling us in clear resounding words to listen to what Jesus says, to watch and to emulate what he does. And, we witness Elijah and Moses, the ancestors, being there with Jesus. We are not told explicitly what they are talking about, just that they are talking. So, I wonder if it stands to reason that Moses and Elijah are giving Jesus encouragement, fortifying him for what is to come.

Because you see, today, Transfiguration Sunday, prepares us to begin the season of Lent in just a few days. Today is, in sorts, meant to be a sort of fortification of the season of lament and reflection we are about to begin. We see the brightness of the light of Jesus illuminated, we sing resounding hallelujahs for the last time before Easter Sunday.         We fortify ourselves. And one of the things about today’s gospel reading is that it is the presence of Moses and Elijah, the ancestors who are there to, we can assume, fortify Jesus.

This past Tuesday morning, I attended the Interfaith Coalition on Immigration’s monthly vigil at the Whipple Building. About a month ago I preached from this pulpit regarding the meaningful experience I had the last time I attended one of these vigils. And while this past Tuesday was also meaningful, it was a very different scene. A month ago, Pastor Erica from Holy Nativity and I were able to park our car and walk to the lawn outside of the tennis and education center since we couldn’t be in front of the Whipple Building. We had plenty of space to spread out and move and sing and pray.

Tuesday this week was a very different picture. From the place where we parked, there were volunteers in reflective vests guiding us where to go. Multiple layers of chain link fencing and barricades have been set up. We were guided into a very small area between barricades, pushed very close together. While I have never been in a war zone before, this sure felt like one. We watched car after car of DHS officers, already masked, drive in to start their shifts and the looks of disgust that some gave us were impossible to miss.

This past Saturday, a group of indigenous leaders gathered at the Whipple Building to present a ceremonial eviction notice to the federal government, that using their sacred land in the way they are, holding people with shackles on their legs, not giving them adequate food or medical care to mention some of the most mild reports that are coming out of that building, is nothing short of an abomination. At this ceremonial eviction event, 4,000 ribbons were tied on the chain link fence, each ribbon representing a person who has been taken without due process by this administration. As we approached the vigil, we watched each ribbon blowing in the February wind.

United Church of Christ pastor, Susan Hayward offered the following prayer on Tuesday, and I share parts of it with you now:

“God of Liberation, who we know as Love,

Draw near to us this morning in the shadow of this building that houses so much pain, where the machinery of injustice churns. Ground us in your love as we witness to the cross present here, state violence enacted against all that is good, against Love itself. A story we know too well, God.  Strengthen our faith in the ultimate triumph of Love. Be with those currently detained here in this building and their families – all afraid, seeking reconnection and hope. Assure them that we are fighting for them, that they are not forgotten or forsaken - by your nor their neighbors. Be with those who are detained within their own homes this morning, unable to leave for weeks now. May all these captives be set free. And God of all, draw near to the federal agents arriving here this morning, who are also your children and who we know are harmed by their participation in this evil. May your Spirit stir their hearts, shifting their loyalties back to that which serves your will, to love of neighbor. And finally, God, gather into your infinite embrace our neighbors across the city and state who are doing your work of love this morning – those on patrol outside schools as our children arrive, those tracking ICE agents as they travel through our neighborhoods, those bringing vulnerable neighbors to work safely, or delivering groceries. Shield these agents of love with your righteous care. God, ground us in the wisdom of this land where we stand, less than one mile from Bdote –  where the Mississippi and Minnesota rivers converge. A place our Dakota relatives – those Indigenous to this land – understand is the most sacred place in the world. The birthplace of the universe. Root us in this sacred land we love that holds stories of pain and resilience across generations. Stories of forced displacement and exile, of state murder, of family separation. And, stories of resilience, survival, and persistence. The drum beats on, and now it is our time to dance the world toward freedom – to persist in love in the face of evil. Strengthen our faith, God, that this is the time You made us for, the time our ancestors prepared us for, that we have all we need to meet these days with courage. We call on our ancestors, the saints, the freedom fighters who came before us and showed us the way.

May your will be done, God, on earth as it is in heaven. May we have the courage, the strength, and the wisdom to ensure this is so.” Amen.

Sunday, February 8, 2026

Salt and Light

You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world. This is who Jesus proclaims you to be.

 Have you ever made something – a cake, cookies or even a main course and forgotten to put in the salt?  It is such a little thing… and yet if you forget to put it in… well… based on my experience, the outcome was pretty bland… barely worth eating.

 Salt is an essential ingredient. We use it to season our foods and to melt the ice on our walkways and roads to keep from slipping. In Jesus’ day, before refrigeration, people used salt to preserve food and to cleaning out a wound. Salt was so important to the economy that it was even used as currency, soldiers were often paid in “salt.”  Then and now, salt is an important part of our diet, our life, our wellbeing.  And if we forget it, it is sorely missed.

 In our Gospel today, Jesus says, “You are the salt of the earth” but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything but is thrown out and trampled underfoot. 

Jesus is speaking metaphorically here. Scientifically, salt – at least the salt that we know – is a rock, a mineral, and so it can’t really lose its saltiness… But… as I discovered in another cooking mishap, it can become worthless. Let me just say… if a container of salt and a container of sugar are sitting on your kitchen counter – be careful not to mix them up. For if you accidentally put in a ¼ cup of salt instead of sugar… it’s no good for anything.

Just of a pinch of salt is needed. But even though it is small, that little bit of salt is an essential ingredient in preserving life, making it appealing and filling us with delight and a desire for more.  Anyone else love salted popcorn or potato chips? It’s so hard to eat just one!

In this same way, when Jesus says, “You are the salt of the earth” Jesus is calling us to be like that pinch of salt, flavoring, preserving and proclaiming the good news through what we say and do so that others are drawn to Jesus. 

Jesus says, “You are the light of the world.” Light is another essential ingredient for life.   We need light to see, to grow food, to keep warm and for our basic wellbeing. 

In what sounds like a children’s sermon, Jesus warns us not to hide our light under a bushel basket. It’s kind of funny image. Of course, no one would put a light underneath a table or a bushel basket. We put the lamp on a table or up high, the lights hang from the ceiling or outside on a lamp post. We hold a flashlight or our phones before us when we are trying to walk in the dark. Just a little light is all that is needed to help us to see, to help us to walk, to help us to live.

You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world. You aren’t the salt mine. You aren’t the sun. But to share just a little salt. Just a little light, your salt, your light, that is who Jesus calls us to be. Just a small amount of salt flavors and preserves and enhances whatever it is put into. Just a little light is needed to lighten the path before us even in the midst of what had been sheer darkness.

I am reminded of this every Christmas eve. The sanctuary is darkened. The choir begins to sing. The Vicar and I light our candles from the Christ candle and we come down the aisle to light yours. The light grows as one person passes the light of Christ to another, one little light, lighting another. Soon I can see your faces lit up too as we join in singing “Silent Night.” It is just a little candle, just a little light. But that light shines brightly in the darkness and the darkness cannot overcome it.

Jesus says, “You are the light of the world.” And then he commissions us, saying: “In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”

These are the words that were proclaimed when you were baptized. Our purpose is not to shine on our own efforts. The purpose of being the light of the world is to bear witness to the Good News of Jesus Christ. This is our calling.  How you live out that calling is the question for you today and each day. 

In her Working preacher commentary, Dr. Karoline Lewis notes that “our default setting … leans toward comfort, conformity, and complacency.. but.. “what Jesus really needs from us is to be the salt and the light—the salt that just might sting and the light that just might expose what we do not want to see.”1  These are challenging words.

And yet, despite the challenging times in which we live, I have been encouraged by the many examples of people being salt and light in their neighborhoods and communities.

Pastor Melissa, a pastor of a bilingual church in South Minneapolis wrote on her Facebook page about spending two days in the Whipple building, translating for Rosa, one of her members, who cannot speak English. She was heading back the next day because Rosa’s case was still not heard. In being there for Rosa, Pastor Melissa is shining a light on a neighbor’s need and being “salt,” embodying the love of Jesus by her presence.

But it isn’t just Pastors who are called to be salt and light. Remember, Jesus said, YOU are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world.

A few days ago I read in the Star Tribune the story of a kindergarten teacher and personal attendant who, after having been arrested by ICE, noticed that one of the ICE agents was having a seizure. Having been trained in CPR and first aid, the teacher asked the other agents to call 911 and then asked if she and the other woman be uncuffed so that they provide emergency aid. As soon as she was uncuffed, she ran to him, turned him on his side, and then cradled his head as another seizure came. The other woman grabbed one of the agents’ tactical vests from the ground, rolled it up and slid it under his head to keep his airway open. They held him until the paramedics came. These women were being salt and light, caring for someone who was suffering, regardless of who he was. 2

Although the media focus is often on the worst things that are happening in our world, I encourage you to pay attention to the stories of people being salt and light. For that is what Christ calls us to be. How you are salt and light will differ from one person to another. That’s good. We are not all called to do the same thing. My Spanish is so rusty that I can’t do what Pastor Melissa does. But I can be salt and light in other ways.

God calls different people into different ministries. I know some people deliver groceries to their neighbors who are hungry and afraid. Others walk around schools to help care for frightened children. Still others help fund churches like Pastor Melissa’s who are having to do online church because, regardless of their status, their members are afraid to leave their homes. And others spend time in prayer for an end to violence.

Remember, brothers and sisters, siblings in Christ, Jesus has proclaimed: You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world.

Jesus did not say following his way would be easy. But he does say that we will not be alone. For Jesus Christ, the source of light for the world, is with us – and that is why we can be light for one another.

Brothers and sisters, siblings in Christ, You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world.  So let your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and glorify your father in heaven. Amen.

1Workingpreacher.org, Karoline Lewis

2 The Minnesota Star Tribune, January 23, by Sofia Barnett. Two women, detained by ICE, say they helped agent having seizure

February 8, 2026 + Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran Church + Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

Sunday, February 1, 2026

“What do you want? Not a whole laundry list. Just one thing. What is the one thing that you want to ask from God?  This was the advice of Irish Poet Padraig O Tuoma at a poetry prayer workshop a few weeks ago. And then he paused and said, “And tell the truth.”

Those words have been haunting me these past weeks. There is so much to want that I want to ask from God: an end to division and strife; safety for neighbors; food for the hungry; justice for all. And that Truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth be told.

But today’s lesson from Micah raises a different question. God takes the people of God to court, with the hills and mountains and all of creation as witnesses. (It’s a good thing that God doesn’t ask them to testify against us…because we don’t have a very good track record of caring for the earth. But God doesn’t do that. Instead, God asks the people why we have abandoned God and God’s ways? Are we bored? Wearied by God?  And then, God recounts a few of the ways that God has shown God’s love for us.

Micah, speaking for the people, cries out that we are guilty as charged. What do YOU want Lord? How do we make amends? Will an animal sacrifice be enough? Or will it take rivers of oil – far more than anyone could ever provide? Or do we, like some of the kings of Jesus’ day, have to sacrifice our children, sending them through the fire for our sins. How much will it cost?

But God is not interested in a transactional relationship. You cannot buy God’s favor.

Instead, God replies, “You know.”  You know what is good. Micah captures it beautifully in this one verse: “What does the Lord require of you but to do justice and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God. This is what God wants: Do justice. Love Kindness. These two are pretty straightforward. The third requirement however, doesn’t translate quite as well. Because instead of something that we can simply do, the last “requirement,” translated as “walk humbly with your God” indicates a humble relationship with God and those who are with God, that is ongoing, every day.

And who are those who are with God? Jesus shows us. In the paragraph right before today’s Gospel when he sits down to teach, Jesus is busy. Matthew writes:

Jesus went throughout all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness among the people. 24 So his fame spread throughout all Syria, and they brought to him all the sick, those who were afflicted with various diseases and pains, people possessed by demons or having epilepsy or afflicted with paralysis, and he cured them. 25 And great crowds followed him from Galilee, the Decapolis, Jerusalem, Judea, and from beyond the Jordan.” Jesus healed a lot of people from a lot of places.

It is only after healing all these people that Jesus sits down with his disciples on the top of the mountain and begins to teach them, Blessed are the poor in spirit… the meek, those who mourn… those who hunger and thirst for righteousness… the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers.. and those who are persecuted in the name of righteousness.”

The people that Jesus speaks about are not the rich and famous who hold positions of power and might. These are those in need – and Jesus promises that they will be filled, healed, cured and that they belong to the Kingdom of God.

This is how Jesus does justice and shows kindness.

And so, blessed are you when you pray for a friend who is at her wits end; blessed are you when you bring food to a family who is hungry; blessed are you when you stand up for peace with justice. Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you because of Jesus. 

This isn’t a comfortable place to be. But it is made better when we remember that we are simply joining Jesus with the poor, the immigrant, the outcast, the stranger. But be careful not to exclude anyone. For the truth is, if you or I ever draw a line and say that Jesus is not with “them.” We had better take a second look. Jesus always shows up where we least expect him.

So… how do we do justice? Love kindness? Walk humbly with Jesus?

Perhaps it is best to start with humility, praying for the Holy Spirit to lead us. And then, our eyes will be opened to the injustice in the world and on our street. Our hearts will be crack open to care for those who are hurting. Our feet will march. Our voices will sing. We will declare the way of the Lord Jesus is the way of justice, Truth, and life.  And we will do it all with kindness.

It's a tall order. Sometimes it feels aspirational. Sometimes I – maybe we – wonder if we are doing enough? But as a wise woman that I had a conversation with this past week as she was cutting my hair said, “we do what we can, when we can.”

And so, to go back to the question, “What do you want?” What do you want to ask of God?” I pray that my heart’s desire – and yours will be what God wants for us: to do justice, to love kindness and to walk humbly with God and all of God’s beloved people. In Jesus name. Amen.

February 1, 2026 + Faith-Lilac Way + Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

Sunday, January 25, 2026

Knit Together

Going through some old boxes, I found a piece of paper, written by my grandmother in 1977, with instructions for knitting mittens for my cousin Mike on the front and a copy of my cousin Melanie’s hand, age 5, on the back. It made me smile. My grandmother made lots of mittens. I still have a pair. She also valiantly tried to teach me how to knit and crochet - but after I managed a single chain – I got distracted. It takes attention and patience when you are learning anything new. Somehow, I got lost in the midst of her knit one, pearl two instructions. Somehow, it still seems a little bit like magic to me. And this is why I’ve always been a bit in awe of people who can knit or crochet without even looking at what they are doing they join two or more things together to create something beautiful.

In our lesson Paul is trying to knit a whole congregation together. Apparently, one of the problems of the church at Corinth is that they were divided in their allegiances. He has received word from “Chloe’s people” that some are claiming to belong to Paul, who was their founding pastor, others claim Apollo, their next pastor who was known as a skilled preacher and teacher and others say they belong to “Cephas” – which is the Greek name for the disciple Peter. And still others, say that “we” follow Jesus. That sounds like the winning argument, right? Unless what they are saying is: if you disagree with us, “you” clearly don’t.  These loyalty claims were tearing the congregation apart.

As Paul writes, “Now I appeal to you, brothers and sisters, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you be in agreement and that there be no divisions among you but that you be knit together in the same mind and the same purpose.” 

Having the same mind and purpose doesn’t mean that all Christians have to be cookie cutter copies of one another. Later in the letter, Paul writes about the beautiful and varied gifts that each of the members of the body of Christ contributes. We can’t all be the organist or the preacher or the prayer shawl knitters, but together, we each bring our gifts to strengthen and uplift the whole body of Christ. These different gifts and talents and ideas and insights are brought humbly forward and then the Holy Spirit knits us together to create a congregation that is “of the same mind and same purpose.”

And so what is our mind and purpose? It is not money or status or power – all things that the culture then and now value. For, as Paul reminds the Corinthians and us, the message of the cross sounds foolish to those whose purpose is “winning” as in: “the one who gets the most stuff wins”. If we believe that, then why would we follow someone who was vulnerable instead of powerful, who died a shameful death on a cross instead of ruling from a glittery palace, who defied boundaries and fed the hungry and ate with both the rich and the poor. But this is not what we believe. As Paul writes, “the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.”

For like Peter and Andrew, James and John, Paul and the Corinthians, and all of the saints who have gone before us, we are all called to follow Jesus. And if we all belong to Christ, then, we must belong to one another, for Jesus knits us together.

Although it was hard for the Corinthians to have this conflict, I am kind of glad that they did, because it caused Paul to write this Holy Spirit inspired letter. This letter has not only guided the Christians at Corinth, but has reminded Christians throughout the years of what is central to our call as we ask:  Why are we here? What is our mission? What is our purpose?

Yesterday we celebrated the life of Betty Schmidt. I enjoyed hearing her daughters reminisce about huge choir singing the Hallelujah chorus every Easter and nearly blowing the roof off the sanctuary; the large confirmation classes and the fun that they had had. It is good to celebrate our history and give thanks for the memoires.

“Positivity” is one of my strengths; I love looking at the glass as “at least” half full rather than ½ empty. However, there are times over the past few years when I would come into the sanctuary and find it less full than I had hoped. And, after leading the funeral of a dearly beloved congregational leader – which is my honor to do – I would also grieve. I would grieve, first because I loved and will miss the one who died. But I also grieve the loss to the congregation of a once vibrant member.

There is some sadness that comes remembering the huge VBS and the crowds and choirs of the past because that is not what we have today. And we are not alone. Mainline churches like ours have been declining in attendance over the last 20-30 years.

This is true for other Wildfire churches too. The Wildfire Pastors met – I think it was back in 2024 -- and talked and shared honestly about our congregations. At that meeting, I was surprised to find out that we are the smallest congregation. But our expenses fit our size better than others. As we shared, we discovered, not surprisingly, that each congregation had challenges and blessings. We prayed together but nothing else happened…

 Except that I began praying about our future – the future of Faith-Lilac Way and asked God what would become of us. And, it turned out, that I wasn’t the only one praying.  

 Last year, after a Synod event, Pastor Ali asked if our congregation would be open to exploring coming together with Cross of Glory and First Lutheran to create a new church.

My mouth fell open and my heart skipped a beat. The idea had never occurred to me. I had been praying about the future of this church and I’ll admit, the future in 5, 10,20 years did not look great. But after Pastor Ali raised this as a possibility, suddenly, my heart felt lighter. Instead of waiting for something to happen TO us, we could be a part creating a new ministry together.  

Our mission to proclaim and share the Good News of Jesus has not changed – and neither has the mission of First Lutheran and Cross of Glory.  For like Peter and Andrew, James and John, Paul and the Corinthians, and all of the saints who have gone before us, we are all called to follow Jesus.

And so now, the question is not just what might God have in store for Faith-Lilac Way, but how might Jesus knit together the people of Faith-Lilac Way and Cross of Glory and First Lutheran to give us more capacity to proclaim Christ Crucified and share the Good News of Jesus with others? This is what we are exploring together. And this is why I am excited about the possibility. 

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ here on the corner of 42nd and Welcome. I know that change is hard. But change is happening every day. And so, I invite you to join me in praying for this congregation and for First Lutheran and Cross of Glory, that we may listen to God’s call and follow Jesus – wherever He may lead us.  In Jesus’ name. Amen.