Vicar Karla 9/13 Sermon

There’s a restaurant in St. Paul called the Groveland Tap which is

down the block from Pilgrim Lutheran, my longtime church home. Because

it’s right there, naturally it becomes where people go after meetings or after

Sunday evening worship. It’s a great restaurant with excellent food and an

extensive beer selection. My long time go to item on the menu was a burger

that used a cinnamon roll for the bun. Somehow the sweet of the cinnamon

roll met the savory of the burger in a way that worked, and it was so

delicious. So imagine my intense disappointment when I walked in one

evening after a church council meeting to take a cursory look at the menu,

even though I knew what I was going to order because I always got the

same thing, to see that the cinnamon roll burger was no longer on the

menu.

Distraught, I asked our server what happened and why it wasn’t on

the menu, and she said that they ended up needing to take it off the menu

because so few people ordered it. She completely agreed with me that it was

delicious and that once people ordered it they, like me, were hooked, but

since so few people were actually apt to order it in the first place, they just

couldn’t keep it on the menu. I vowed to never forgive them for this

travesty. Similarly, I’ve never forgiven Lush Cosmetics for discontinuing a

body lotion I loved that smelled like chocolate cherries and was one of the

few things able to keep my winter dry skin happy. I’ve also never forgiven

Pat’s Tap in Minneapolis for taking my favorite goat cheese fritters off their

menu.

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When it comes to forgiveness, these examples are very insignificant.

Me holding these grudges, at the end of the day, doesn’t matter just like

these “wrongs” happening in the first place are lower than low stakes in the

broad scheme of this world we share that is full of actual sins and mistakes

that come along with life altering consequences.

Like most of Jesus’ parables, there is meaning under the words that

Jesus is using to make his point today. Peter comes to Jesus asking how

many times he should forgive someone who wrongs him. He asks if it’s

seven times he should offer that forgiveness. It seems like Peter is looking

for what he thinks is an absurdly high number. Surely no one would be

interested or willing in offering forgiveness seven whole times! And Jesus

says, basically, that is nowhere near enough. Like so many parables that

Jesus uses to make his lessons more accessible, this one is about the

church, about a community of believers that is rapidly growing as Jesus

travels around sharing his message of love and grace. Because this

community is growing so rapidly and because it is attracting such a,

honestly rag tag group of people, some guidelines are clearly needed for

how to live in community together, how to live and work and travel with

people who very well may have caused past harm to others in the

community.

Everything Jesus offers is so countercultural, so wildly different from

the limitations of what the world offers. And extravagant forgiveness is one

of those things. Because we receive this grace and forgiveness, God calls us

to share it with others, with the church. The Lord’s Prayer, a pretty central

piece of our liturgy, says, “forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who

trespass against us.” So, what keeps us from offering forgiveness and mercy

to others when it has been given to us so abundantly? There have been

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more than a few times in my life where my prayer has been, “God, I need

you to do the heavy lifting in offering forgiveness because I am just not

there yet. So until I can get there, and I pray you help me to get there, I

need you to pick up my slack.”

One of the things I actually find most interesting in this morning’s

parable is that it is Peter who is asking this question about the limits, or

really the lack of limits, as we learn, to the ways God asks us to forgive.

Peter, who will deny knowing Jesus three times on the night that he is

betrayed and eventually put to death. Peter is the one asking about this

limit, when Peter is the one who is going to need limitless forgiveness from

Jesus. And Jesus gives it. On the night of that betrayal, before he is dragged

away by the Roman soldiers, Jesus looks Peter in the eyes, washes his dirty

and dusty feet, and preemptively forgives him for an incredibly deep

betrayal.

On one hand, the author of Matthew’s gospel portrays Peter as the

model of faithfulness. He is shown to be a leader among the 12, ready to

follow Christ and to do hard things, eager to ask questions to learn and to

grow, both for his own sake but also for his friends. We see him vow to

remain with Jesus and his friends no matter what, even if death is what will

come…. And it will, as we know. And even though Peter is portrayed to be

this model of discipleship in a lot of ways, he will still betray Jesus not once,

not twice, but three times for the sake of his own safety. As Peter asks this

question today, though, he is completely unaware of his forthcoming

failings and the three betrayals to soon come. To those of us who know

what will come in a few chapters, though, we can recognize the irony.

Forgiveness is easy for God, but very often it is anything but easy for us.

Today’s discourse is Jesus giving practical applications and advice for how

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to live in community. He is building this community of believers, and he

knows that it is critical that they all live together in ways that are so

completely countercultural to what he is seeing around him. After all, God

has sent Christ to Earth because there is so much anger, malice, score

settling, contempt, greed and on and on. So Jesus comes to bring

something different, something so much better. And forgiveness is so much

better and so different from what the rest of the world is doing that it’s a

pretty foreign concept to his disciples who have spent their lives engrossed

in the status quo.

I recently read a book by Pulitzer prize winning journalist, Kevin Sack

entitled Mother Emanuel: Two Centuries of Race, Resistance, and

Forgiveness in One Charleston church. I didn’t know anything about this

book, but when I was wandering through Birchbark Books in Minneapolis

with my mom this spring, I was struck by the title and picked it up on a

whim. And, it’s one of the most significant things I’ve read so far in 2026.

The book follows the more than 200 year history of Emanuel African

Methodist Episcopal Church- known for many of those two centuries- as

Mother Emanuel. It is the oldest AME church in the south. In 1817, the

church broke away from white methodist churches, it survived the Civil

War and Reconstruction, and eventually became a major staging site during

the civil rights movement.

This church is also the place where on June 17th, 2015, white

supremecist, Dylan Roof, entered Mother Emanuel after being welcomed to

a bible study, and shot and murdered 9 Black worshippers. Pastor and

elected state senator Clementa Pinckney, Cynthia Hurd, Tywanza Sanders,

Sharonda Coleman-Singleton, DePayne Middleton-Doctor, Daniel

Simmons, Susan Jackson, Ethel Lance, and Myra Thompson.

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One of the most profound parts of the legacy of this horrific massacre

came from a spiritual standpoint. On the night after the shooting, Chris and

Camryn Singleton, the now motherless teenage children of forty- five year

old Sharonda Coleman- Singleton, attended a vigil in her memory at the

local high school where she worked for many years. On their way out of the

vigil, a British television reporter pushed a microphone in their faces and

asked what they were feeling. Chris said, “We already forgave him for what

he’s done.” More than a decade later, he can’t explain how those words

came out of his mouth. Several years later he remarked, “I wish I had a

feeling that I was compelled to do it, but I didn’t. It just came out, which is

unreal. The reason I know it was God was because if it was fake there is no

way I would still feel this way years later.”

Two days later, the Charleston police prepared for potential civil

unrest as Roof made his first appearance at a state court bond hearing on

murder counts for each of the nine victims. The families of the victims were

invited to attend, they had not seen the Chris Singleton interview, they

hadn’t consulted with one another, but one by one, they stood up and told

Dylan Roof that they forgave him. Author Kevin Sack writes in his book,

“many could not find anything to absolve in Roof’s hellish act, or any

conceivable godly purpose in the taking of nine innocent believers. But it

was nonetheless a breathtaking exercise of grace, a reflection of a

Christianity so seemingly pure that few had ever witnessed it, much less

experienced it. Many hearts softened, not just in Charleston but across the

world, and anyone inclined to fan the embers of retribution found them

quickly snuffed, even as outrage smoldered.”

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Then President Barack Obama gave the eulogy at the Rev. Pinckney’s

service and reflected on grace. Christian tradition, he explained, asserts

that grace is not earned but is rather “the free and benevolent favor of God

as manifested in the salvation of sinners and the bestowal of blessings.

Through the tragedy at Emanuel, God has visited that grace upon the

nation. He said, “For He has allowed us to see where we’ve been blind. He

has given us the chance, where we’ve been lost, to find our best selves. We

may not have earned it, this grace, with our rancor and complacency, and

short sightedness and fear of each other- but we got it all the same.”

A couple of years ago, I was at an annual conference with the

Association of Christian Fundraising. At that year’s conference, Chris

Singleton, the child of one of the victims who proclaimed his forgiveness at

that vigil, was one of the keynote speakers. And the attention of every single

person in the room hung on to every single word that came out of his

mouth as he talked about grace, and God’s forgiveness. It was powerful and

it was beautiful. There are several parts of this that are profound. The first

is that he was talking to a room of largely ELCA Lutherans. Dylan Roof was

an ELCA Lutheran, and not a check the box Lutheran either. He was active

in his youth group, went through confirmation. Chris could have looked out

at that room of us with contempt, but he only shared grace.

After he finished speaking, there was a long line of people waiting to

buy his book and to have him sign it. Because the Lutheran world is so

miniscule, one of my friends is friends with Dylan Roof’s youth pastor, and

she has walked around with guilt since 2015 wondering how she missed the

signs, how she finds herself to be at fault in some capacity for his heinous

actions. As he was in line to buy the book and have it sighed, at the last

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minute, instead of making the inscription in the book out to himself, he

asked Chris to dedicate it to her, explaining exactly who she was. Again,

Chris could have responded with contempt, but he only shared grace in the

message he wrote to her, absolving her of any deeply held guilt.

This level of grace and forgiveness may feel only aspirational to us,

just like the forgiveness Jesus offers Peter feels so unfathomable. And

maybe it’s ok that it feels so outlandish to us. But that doesn’t let us off the

hook from asking God to help us understand it, to help us to wrap our

minds around it, so that we can embody that forgiveness and grace we

receive from God to in turn share it with others.

Pastor Meta Herrick Carlson writes on repentance:

“It is a dangerous luxury to give up on one another, to announce some

things beyond forgiveness- not just personally and today, but for everyone

and always.It is a dangerous luxury to declare zero tolerance because it will

be broken. It always gets broken, and then what? Intolerance has a pass.

The world does not need more grace restricted, more exasperated sighs,

more backs turned against one another, more detailed accounts of their

wrongs. It needs you and the soft courage that looks others in the face long

enough to wonder if trust can be made and it’s safe to try again differently.”

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Let us pray,’

God of grace, examine our hearts and show us the times and places where

we need to share your grace. When our hearts are closed off, open them and

help us to want to forgive. Pick up our slack to forgive others when we feel

incapable of it, and help us to get to that place of forgiveness. Because we

have been forgiven, extravagantly forgiven. Through your Son, who you

sent to Earth to show us how to love and how to forgive, help us to forgive

as we are forgiven. And when we’re just not quite there yet, help us to want

to get there. Amen.

Sunday, August 30, 2026

“If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”

 This is Jesus’ call to discipleship. And it is a harder call to the disciples and to us than Jesus’ original call to “Follow me.” For in this call to discipleship, Jesus challenges all who want to be followers to “deny themselves.” In other words, the call to discipleship is a call to put Jesus and Jesus’ way first. Period.

 Jesus also invites those who wish to follow to “take up their cross.” Unfortunately, “take up your cross” has been used, sometimes by preachers, to justify abuse and subservience as “your cross to bear.” This is not what Jesus is saying.   Some people also use “this is my cross to bear” as a description of hardship. I don’t want to minimize when someone is hurting. But I don’t think this is what Jesus is talking about either. 

For the disciples, they would likely have heard “take up your cross” as a call to be prepared to die – after all, in those days a cross was not a symbol of the crucified and risen Lord Jesus but was the symbol of death, the electric chair of their day.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a pastor who died in WWII for the way that he stood up against Hitler, once said, when Jesus calls you – meaning all baptized people - he is calling you to come and die.” Come and die.

So, in answering Jesus’ call we need to ask the question: What needs to die? And I think the answer is: Putting yourself or anything else before Jesus.

That was Peter’s problem. He was putting his ideas of what a Messiah would do – namely, restore Israel to power by putting a good king Jesus on the throne and by sending the Roman occupiers packing. That is the “earthly” things that Peter was likely imagining. That is the way of the world.

Do you remember the game Monopoly? In that game, the one who has the most land, money and stuff wins. That is the way of the world. Seeking your own self-interest, the interest of your team, or even of your country over the way of Jesus is what Jesus is calling you to deny. That is what needs to die, so that you can truly live. That is what discipleship means – denying your own Ego self and following Jesus even though it goes against the way of the world. This is the life of discipleship.

This leads to the next question: how do we do that?  Paul gives the Romans and us some helpful insights into a life of discipleship. It almost sounds like bullet points but it is not a checklist but rather describes a way of life. 

Paul encourages us to:

·         Rejoice in hope.

·        Be patient in affliction

·        Persevere in prayer.

These are actions that are much easier to say than to do. But being mindful of these can help strengthen our inner as well as our communal life.

Paul has a lot more to say about our relationships with one another.

·        Let love be genuine.

·        Hold fast to what is good

·        Love one another with mutual affection;

·        Outdo one another in showing honor.

·        Contribute to the needs of the saints.

·        Pursue hospitality to strangers.

·        Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep.

·        Live in harmony with one another.

·        Do not be arrogant, but associate with the lowly

This is what we are called to do as a church community. I was so happy to see the hospitality given to both friends and strangers at our Gathering with the Big Band last Wednesday night. And, as Pastor Colin and I have met with the New Creation Visioning Groups over the summer, I see the desire to honor the other, to love and care for one another and to hold fast to what is good growing between us. When we do these things, loving one another, showing honor and hospitality to the other, contributing to the needs of the church and the neighbor, then we are practicing discipleship. These are not items on a list to accomplish – this is the way we as Christians are called to live with one another and our community.   

Paul also writes about how we are to treat our enemies.

·        Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them.

·        Do not repay anyone evil for evil.

Paul is calling us to a higher and more noble standard than the world lives by. Instead of cutting off food supplies, Paul says, “if your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink.”

This all sounds noble and the way I think Jesus would have us treat our neighbor. After all, Jesus says, love your neighbor as yourself and love your neighbor as I have loved you.

But then… we get to the end of this passage full of noble goodness and mercy and we read, “for by doing this you will heap burning coals on their heads.”  I’ll admit, this part makes me laugh out loud. What is Paul thinking?! Is he, at the end, appealing to our baser nature, realizing that what we really want to do is to heap burning coals on our enemies heads? Is he suggesting that we should smugly “kill them with kindness” but rest assured that they will get what they deserve?  To be honest, that is what I always thought he was saying.

But this time, I read another commentary that pointed me to another explanation. The statement about feeding your enemy who is hungry and giving a drink to the one who is thirsty and heaping burning coals upon their head is almost a direct quote from Proverbs. But in the days in which the proverbs were written, “Heaping burning coals upon an enemy’s head” was not a punishment; rather the opposite. For in those days, if the hearth’s fire goes out, it threatens the ability to prepare food and to keep warm. So, if a fire did go out, one would typically go to a neighbor and ask for burning coals and carry them back home in a container upon their heads. So not only are we to feed our enemies and give them something to drink but also help them to sustain their life. The only vengeance is to be God’s vengeance and that looks a lot like the Gospel logic of love.1 This is the kind of cross that Jesus asks us to carry. For it is out of love that Jesus carried his cross.

The Gospel logic of love sounds like a beautiful way for us to answer Jesus’ call to deny ourselves, take up our cross and follow Jesus– but in our ever increasingly fractured world, how do we even attempt to live like this?

This past week, as most of you probably know, famed singer, actress and business woman Dolly Parton died. I am not someone who reads People magazine or pays much attention at all to celebrities. But even I knew who Dolly Parton was. However, I did not know much. I was curious about the way Dolly seemed to touch people whose lives ordinarily do not overlap: drag queens, evangelical Christians, hipsters, elected leaders and all sorts of ordinary people. And, when I started reading, I realized why she affected so many different kinds of people. Dolly followed the Gospel of love in her words and actions. When asked about her faith, she said, “I really like to think it’s God spark” and went on to talk about how she prayed for God to lead her and guide her and to let some love pass through her. This is how she began a life of faithful service, building Dollyland in the poor area in which she was born to bring jobs to that region, starting her Imagination Library which buys books for children under age five,  and raising millions of dollars for people wildfire and flood victims and the list goes on. She simply believed that those who were in a position to help others – should do so. And so she did.  Dolly was a beautiful example of following the Gospel logic of love.

Brothers and sisters, friends in Christ, as we seek to answer Jesus’ call to become his followers, let us continue to pray for the Holy Spirit to open our heart to love and care for one another and all our neighbors so that we may learn how to take up their cross and follow Jesus.

1Nancy Lammers Gross https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-22/commentary-on-romans-129-21-7

2. The “ Jesus Calling” podcast 2018 

Sunday, August 23, 2026

I have two questions for you today. The first is the question that Jesus

asks the disciples: “Who do you say that I AM?” Peter, by the power of

the Holy Spirit, gives this profound answer: “You are the Messiah the

Son of the Living God.”

At that moment, this was an incredibly radical statement – proclaiming

this guy from Nazareth wasn’t just a rabbi or a teacher but the Messiah

of the World. For those of us that have grown up in or settled into the

Christian tradition, it no longer feels radical. Like Peter, we proclaim

that truth that Jesus, son of Mary, Son of God, is our Redeemer, Messiah

and the Savior of the World. As they say on game shows: “Good

Answer! Good Answer.” Don’t misunderstand me. It is good to have

faith as a part of our heritage and baked into our DNA. It’s just that part

of my job is to remind you that what you proclaim can be and I dare say

needs to be transformational - which is why I’m asking you a second

question.

After having proclaimed Jesus as the Messiah, the Son of the Living

God, what difference does that make in your life?

Paul appeals to the Romans and to all believers, then and now, that on

the basis of God’s Mercy, to allow our faith in Jesus Christ, our Messiah

and Savior, transform our lives. Every Day.

But before we talk about transformation – look again at what we are

basing our transformation upon: God’s mercies.

God’s Mercy is the Rock to which Isaiah called the people of Israel to

cling. God’s mercy is revealed to the Psalmist as God’s steadfast love

and faithfulness which lasts forever. It is God’s Mercies of love and

grace and forgiveness which is the Rock on which we as faithful people

stand. As we will sing, “On Christ, the Solid Rock we stand.” Nothing

else is our foundation – nothing that we make or value or treasure is

above Jesus. Not even our church building. It is Jesus Christ – and

God’s Mercies.

Jesus, the embodiment of God’s love and mercy is our sure foundation.

And it is because we have this strong and solid foundation that we are

able to not only proclaim the Jesus Christ is Lord of all, but we are also

able to risk letting that proclamation make a difference in our lives.

Paul even urges us “to present your bodies as a living sacrifice.” So

what does that mean? Paul writes in a time in which animal sacrifice was

common. But Paul is not recommending killing ourselves or anyone else

but rather urging us to offer our whole living selves– body, mind and

spirit -- to God as a response to God’s loving mercies. As we proclaim

in our baptism, “we belong to Christ, in whom we are baptized.” This

means that God is the ONE to whom we owe our whole selves, the One

to whom we owe our loyalty and allegiance.

There are other entities that want to be first in our allegiance and loyalty.

That was true in Paul’s day and it is true now and so Paul’s words to the

Romans are good words for us too. He writes, “Do not be conformed to

this age, but be transformed by the renewing of the mind, so that

you may discern what is the will of God – what is good and

acceptable and perfect.

That is a powerful sentence – write it down. Memorize it if you can.

Because this is our challenge in this day and age. We are bombarded

with messages about what to buy, who to trust, which “side” we are on,

and what is true and right and good. Some people make their living

being “influencers” trying to persuade others to buy this. Think that.

Watch this. You NEED this to be better, more beautiful or more

successful, or just more. Some of the influencers are not even human!

“Bots” are sending you messages. The airwaves are full of influencers

and messaging and it can be overwhelming. No, it IS overwhelming. But

it doesn’t have to be.

Last month I spent a few days hiking and camping in a Wilderness area

of Colorado with my traveling companion. For four days, my phone was

only my camera, capturing images of mountain flowers, rocks and trees

and no longer a device that sent me any messages. My ears were filled

instead with the sounds of birds singing, frogs croaking, cicadas chirping

and the wind whispering in the trees.

God’s creation is a beautiful antidote to the noise of the world. And you

don’t even have to go into the wilderness - we have parks and lakes and

flowers right here – look at the amazing collection of flowers around the

church, thanks to the Hennepin County Horticulural society and

Robbinsdale diggers. So take breath. Stop for a moment. Notice God’s

creation.

And then read again this line: Do not be conformed to this age, but be

transformed by the renewing of the mind, so that you may discern

what is the will of God – what is good and acceptable and perfect.

Paying attention to God’s creation can help us set aside the noise of the

world, to silence the phone, turn off the TV and computer, lay down the

newspaper and messages – and be renewed by the power of God’s Word

and simply take some time in prayer and silence to be with God. This is

how we discern the will of God – what is good and acceptable and

perfect.

Because God is not just calling us away to hide in the mountains – even

though a retreat is a wonderful thing. God is calling us to live in this

world as the BODY of CHRIST.

Paul writes to the Romans to “not think of yourself more highly as you

ought to think” – in other words – don’t exalt yourself and in doing so

put someone else down in an effort to justify how good you are. That

can be a problem for us too – when instead of grading papers, we label

kids as “A-Students” or failing students – or we label people as good or

bad based on the color of their skin or where they are born. At the same

time, I think it can also be a problem when people think too little of

themselves. You all, each one of you, is a child of God, God’s beloved,

and you ALL have many gifts to offer. And that “You ALL” applies not

only to the people in this room but to all of God’s beloved children.

Paul talks about us as being one body – the body of Christ. And all of

the parts of the body are not only valuable but needed and wanted.

Notice the gifts that Paul mentions. We are tempted to exalt gifts such as

leading and teaching. But look – cheerfulness is also a gift that you can

share. So is being compassionate. Sincerity is a gift. Encouragement is a

gift. Giving is a gift. Together we have these gifts. Does Paul exalt one

over the other? No. And neither should we.

Instead, let us remember that all that we are, all that we have, all that we

hope to be is a result of God’s mercies of love and grace and

forgiveness. God’s mercies are what transforms us here at Faith-Lilac

Way, at the church down the street and across the country and around the

world into being the body of Christ and gives us the courage to use the

gifts that God has given to us – not for our own sake – but for God’s

mission.

What is that mission? Jesus calls us to care for God’s children that some

call “the least of these” – those who are poor, vulnerable, sick, hungry or

in need. We are called us to encourage one another, show compassion,

give, teach and proclaim God’s love and God’s way so that we are all

transformed into being and acting as the body of Christ – every day.

Brothers and sisters, siblings in Christ, today as we pray our affirmation

of faith proclaiming Jesus as the Messiah, the Son of the Living God,

what difference will that make in your life? My prayer for myself and

for you all is that on the basis of God’s Mercies of love and grace, may

we allow our faith in Jesus Christ, our Messiah and Savior, our Rock and

foundation to transform our lives to BE the Body of Christ. Every Day.

Amen.

Sunday, August 16, 2026

Vicar Karla Leitzman

Matthew 15: 10-20, 21-28

 Almost four years ago now, I was getting ready to go to Southern California to meet with Global Refuge donors for the first time since getting hired as a major gifts officer. I was reaching out to donors to try to set up meetings to visit with them to thank them for their support and to get to know them while sharing some updates of our work of welcoming newcomers to the United States. One of the people my boss encouraged me to visit with was a former board member whose husband was a retired Lutheran Church Missouri Synod district president, which in the ELCA would be the equivalent of a local synod bishop. Unlike the ELCA, which Faith Lilac Way is part of, the LCMS does not ordain women or openly LGBTQIA+ folks to be pastors or leaders in the church. So, going into this meeting, I was nervous. I wasn’t sure what I should or should not talk about. Should I only talk about work and not talk about anything personal, even though in my experience, sharing a certain amount of personal stories is what helps to build an authentic relationship? Should I share that I was in seminary and pursuing being a pastor? Essentially, which pieces of myself should I share and which should I hold close? I absolutely had a preconceived notion of how this conversation was probably going to go and about what they believed or didn’t believe, about who they were.

          I went into this lunch meeting with my mind already made up about who they were and how they were going to think about me. So I sat down at our lunch to learn that my boss had told them a little bit about me and my journey so they wanted to know all about my seminary experience, where I wanted to be a pastor. My attempts at being mysterious were thwarted. They wanted to talk about how much they liked and respected then ELCA presiding bishop, Elizabeth Eaton, a woman in the highest office of church leadership and ordained ministry. Essentially, our conversation was very different from what my mind had already decided was going to unfold. It turns out that the farther you get from the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod epicenter in St. Louis Missouri, the more varied the theological interpretations become. Throughout the course of my work, I have actually met a fair number of west coast LCMS Lutherans who are more supportive of progressive Lutheran theology than ELCA Lutherans here in the Midwest, but I digress. For this couple, in particular, because the Missouri synod holds their pensions as he is a retired pastor and district president, they find themselves firmly planted in the denomination even if they might not agree with every single tenant of their faith tradition.

What this all comes down to though, is that these are some of my very favorite times when I have been wrong, when my mind has been changed. It’s honestly so fun and it’s one of my favorite ways to continually get to be surprised by God. And while, I obviously do take issue with any faith denomination that limits who can and can not be leaders in the church, that don’t value the voices of women and LGBTQIA+ leaders in the church, especially when Jesus empowered so many varied kinds of people to share his good news, I can still celebrate the things we hold in common and celebrate. And in this case, even though we have these differences, the thing that united us was our shared deep tethering ourselves to our shared Christian mandate to see Christ reflected in the face of the stranger, the foreigner. This all reminds me that I am allowed to change my mind, that I’m allowed to be wrong, that I can always re-examine my pre conceived notions of who I’ve determined someone to be in my mind.

Today, in our gospel reading from Matthew, we get an example of Jesus changing his mind, and even of Jesus being wrong, and realizing he is wrong. I’ve talked from this pulpit a good bit about how each of the four gospels gives us a different picture of who Jesus was, what his ministry was, who he came to be and what he came to do, and how those images inform our faith. Each gospel gives us a unique and distinct person in Jesus, a unique and distinct role for us to emulate in our faith journey and in our witness to Christ. Each gospel also carries complexities and vitally important context to the authors and circumstances it was originally written. And Matthew, in different ways than Mark, Luke, and John, gives us a lot of complexity.

The Jesus we get to know in Matthew is the rabbi, the teacher, the long awaited prophetic realization of the Messiah who will liberate God’s people. The Jesus we get in Matthew also, frequently holds an undercurrent of anger and starkness that, frankly, a lot of times makes Christians feel really uncomfortable. At our clergy text study this week, the resounding theme was “Oh boy I should have deviated from the lectionary this week. I don’t want to preach on this because it paints Jesus in such a bad light. This text is so uncomfortable, I don’t know what to do with it!” At face value, I thought all of those things too. Why, especially with the hecticness of Vacation Bible School this week did I not go out of my way to give myself a simpler gospel text to preach on?!     

Even though a significant part of our theology as Christians is that Jesus was both fully human and fully divine, it seems like a lot of the times when we are reminded of just how human Jesus was, are the passages that make us the most uncomfortable. And it just might be because those are the passages that feel just a little too familiar, that feel like a mirror is being held up for us to wrestle with the very human parts of ourselves that we try to avoid. We want to look to Jesus as the aspirational divinity, the one who came to prioritize the lowly and the marginalized, who turned the world on its head, who encourages us to do the same.

At this point in Matthew’s gospel, Jesus is once again a foreigner, an outsider.  It marks a transition in the focus of Jesus’ ministry and is a signal to the author of Matthew’s community that what follows will address one of their multiple concerns: “Who is Jesus’ mission and message for?” “What does that message ask of this community?” The broadest question  is: “Just how wide is God’s mercy?” Where does it end or not end? This text culminates in a dramatic encounter between Jesus, his disciples, and a “foreigner,”this Canaanite woman,  an encounter that intensifies these questions for Matthew’s community. The backdrop for the encounter with the Canaanite woman we meet in today’s story is deep deliberation among insiders about the complex relationship between their religious traditions and practices and “God’s will”.

Academic and historic consensus holds that Matthew’s community is predominantly Jewish, that is, it is made up of those who have been formed within the rich tradition of thought forms and practices that have shaped their understanding of God and “God’s will” for God’s people. They would have known intimately the strict rules they were to follow regarding what to eat or not to eat, how to follow precise rituals for hand washing, fasting, and many other faith practices. Now, since God has given power to Jesus, those traditions have come under scrutiny.

It can be so easy for us to fall into the rhythms of traditions, the ways we have always done things, sometimes not knowing another reason besides “well that’s the way we have always done it.” There is nothing wrong with following these long held traditions, like the ritualistic hand washing described in today’s text. These rituals and traditions can be intrinsic to how people of faith root themselves in their communities and to those who came before them. And yet, when the tradition is tradition for the sake of tradition and negates the grounding in God’s love and mercy, we can all run the risk of missing the point, of not allowing our hearts to be open to possible changes, of potentially realizing we don’t have all the answers.

When Jesus utters these harsh words to this Canaanite woman that makes preachers today feel so uncomfortable, he is likely not just seeing a singular woman in front of him. To Matthew’s Jesus, the embodied Messiah, the central figure in the faith of his people, the Canaanites were an ancient enemy and foe, responsible for years of oppression and devastation to them as a people. Jesus likely did not see a woman asking for help for her daughter, he most likely saw years of harm and pain represented in the face of this singular woman. His focus was on liberating God’s people from oppression, not realizing that the oppressors and those associated with them might just also be worthy of grace and healing. The tension in the encounter is released with a simple statement of faith. This Canaanite woman has named Jesus as “Lord” and “Son of David,” but when she declares her utter dependence on God’s Grace, Jesus’ tradition-shaped heart breaks open. “Woman, great is your faith!” he declares. When she is able to move beyond the strict traditions to the grace and healing that Jesus brings from God, that is when Jesus stops, realizes the error of his preconceived notion, and changes his mind.

Bringing it back to my work at Global Refuge, we are actually currently navigating some tension, well a lot of tension, because of the current state of refugee resettlement. Since our founding in 1939, it has always been up to the president of the United States to issue what is called the presidential determination and this is the number of refugees that the US agrees to resettle in any given year. It also includes which countries those refugees can be resettled from. Right now, the traditional refugee admissions path is essentially only open to white South Africans, or Afrikanners. These are people who are the descendants of the Dutch, German, and French colonizers who came to South Africa in the 17th and 18th centuries and established Apartheid which was responsible for untold harm and trauma to Black South Africans. Under this system, Black South Africans had to carry passes which delineated exactly where they were and were not allowed to travel to and from, what work they could and could not do, where they could and could not live.

In the aftermath of this South African system of apartheid ending, the rationale the current presidential administration is using to allow for Afrikaners to be afforded refugee admission to the United States is that they are facing racial prejudice for being white and for being the descendants of those who enacted these horrific policies, the effects of which are still experienced widely.

Because we are now the only resettlement agency contracted to provide foster care and family reunification for unaccompanied children and is dependent on funding from the federal government to continue doing that reunification, Global Refuge has been faced with an unpleasant dilemma: accept federal funding so we can continue that foster care work and then also be responsible for resettling Africaners. Or, refuse to resettle white South Africans and reject the funding but then also be barred from serving unaccompanied children.  And while there is a whole lot of complexity wrapped up on this, it has enabled a few stories that really just couldn’t get more Lutheran or more filled with grace and with the changing of minds and hearts.

One family of Afrikanners was recently resettled in Fargo, North Dakota. The case manager assigned to them is a woman who was a former refugee herself from the Democratic Republic of Congo. As their case manager, she is tasked with helping them navigate housing, finding job placements, getting their children enrolled in the local school district, etc. In short, she and this family have been needing to spend an awful lot of time together. And, a genuine friendship has been formed. The children from South Africa run and leap into her arms when they see her. They have invited her into their home for dinner many times and she has returned the invitation by inviting them into her home to get to know her family. While none of this negates or undoes the harm that Black South Africans faced at the hands of the descendants of white colonizers from Europe for decades in South Africa, this story does remind us that God’s grace shows up, oftentimes in the places we least expect to find it when we have already made our minds up to how the story is going to end. In this story, we can realize that maybe just maybe, we can and should change our minds about people, just like Jesus models in today’s gospel story.

After all, the Canaanite woman is not just talking for the sake of talking, she is not just trying to talk to Jesus because she wants his autograph or because she wants to go home and brag that she met this healer from Galileah. She is appealing to Jesus, refusing to take no for an answer even after he seemingly casts her aside, for the sake of her daughter who can not speak for herself. She is speaking on behalf of one who is so vulnerable that she can not speak for herself, which is so much of what Jesus directs us to do. We also still have much to say on behalf of those who can not say it for themselves. We also must be relentless in the ways we push and push and push for the sake of the most vulnerable around us. Yes, we can hold fast to the traditions that inform how we live out our faith, we can and should root ourselves in these practices that tether us to one another and to those who came before us and to those who come after us. But, we must also keep our hearts open enough that we can be willing to admit when it’s time to try something new or when we are wrong, when we realize that our preconceived notions of who someone is or how they think might just not be what we initially thought to be true.

In our world, we navigate so many absolutes and binaries- where we are pushed to see people as one thing or another because frankly thats simpler than seeing them as complex human beings. So many people look at today’s gospel lesson and see Jesus in a way that is unfavorable to who we want him to be. We want to see our savior who has the answers, who reminds us to be kind and to pursue justice and care for all people. We look for the divine and the perfect. And yet today’s story also reminds us to look for the human. If Jesus can be capable of admitting wrongs, of changing his mind, of re-evaluating preconceived notions of who someone is or whose God’s love and mercy is for, maybe just maybe, we might not be such lost causes ourselves. And thanks be to God for that.          

Sunday, August 9, 2026

Theologian Zina Jacque likes to ask the question: “What is it that has most shaped who you are and how you live in the world?”1Think about that for a moment. Don’t worry. I’m not going to ask you to share.

In my study for today, Zina suggested that for Peter and the other disciples, a turning point for them wasn’t when Jesus called them to follow, it wasn’t when Jesus taught them the Beatitudes, it wasn’t even when Jesus healed people who no one could heal or blessed the two fish and five small loaves of bread and fed 5,000 people. Rather, it was when Jesus came to them while their boat was being battered by waves and the winds were against them and they were about to give up hope. Because, at least in the Gospel of Matthew, that is when they first proclaimed faith in Jesus as the Son of God.

You know this story of Jesus and then Peter walking on the water– but I want to put it into a bit of context. Earlier in this chapter, Jesus heard the gruesome story of King Herod having John the Baptist killed as the result of Herod’s stupid promise to his wife’s daughter after she performed a dance in front of his cronies. Hearing that story, Jesus retreated to a “desolate place” to grieve and to pray. But the crowd found out – and followed him. Jesus had compassion for the crowd and so he taught them and then fed them – all 5000 of them.

But then… having fed their hearts with the word of God and their bodies with bread and fish, Jesus tells his disciples to get in the boat and leave. Actually the verb is more powerful. The disciples probably don’t want to leave Jesus all alone without a boat, but he compels them to go. Then he dismisses the crowds. Finally, Jesus is alone and so he goes up the mountain to pray.

Remember, this had been his intent in going to the “desolate place.” Prayer is what grounds Jesus in his relationship to God. It’s a habit that we would be wise to follow.  In this case, Jesus clearly needed that time to pray because he took a long time. It wasn’t until the 4th watch – that’s between 3 and 6 AM, before the morning light but well into the night – that Jesus went seeking the disciples.

The disciples were already weary and frightened from having their boat tossed about by a stormy wind so when they saw him, they responded not with joy but out of fear – “It is a ghost!” Jesus responds with three statements: “Take heart.” The word that is translated as heart also means courage. Be of good courage. The next statement, “it is I” – is actually the Greek for “I AM”. Jesus is not speaking in parables here but rather claims the name of God that was given to Moses: “I AM.”  Finally, he tells the disciples, “Do not be afraid.”

Jesus tells the disciples not to be afraid – but of course they were. Hearing Jesus’ voice, Peter said, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.”  Was Peter taking heart, being courageous? Or was he just being Peter – speaking first and thinking later?  Or…was Peter testing Jesus? These words sound a lot like what the devil said to Jesus in the wilderness… if it is you then… Whatever the reason, Jesus invites him, “Come.” And so, Peter climbs out of the boat and starts walking on the water towards Jesus. It’s all pretty cool until Peter, instead of staying focused on Jesus, starts thinking about the power of the wind around him. I wonder if it is like walking a tightrope in the air – anyone can walk on line on the ground… but if you put that line 50 feet up… that is another story. I think this is what happened to Peter. He focusing less on Jesus and rather on his own power to stay afloat when the wind is fierce and then…fear takes over…and he starts to sink.

In desperation, Peter prays, “Lord, Save Me!” Immediately, Jesus reaches out his hand and pulls Peter out of the water and says to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”  They got back in the boat – and the wind stopped.

Their faith must have grown by leaps and bounds in that moment for all of the people in the boat immediately bowed down and worshipped Jesus, proclaiming, “Truly you are the Son of God.” 

 This moment would have been at least a part of the disciples’ answer to Zina’s question: What is it that has most shaped who you are and how you live in the world?  It may not be the whole answer – I think Jesus’ resurrection would have been an even greater factor — but this moment is certainly a building block of their faith.

The next question she asks people is whether they learned this lesson in a time of trial and challenges or in a time of ease. Perhaps not surprisingly, she writes, “No matter the group—seminarians, executives, seasoned pastors, or college students—no more than 5 percent of the room has ever learned a formative lesson when everything was going well.”1 Instead, most of us report that the times of trial and challenge are where we learn the most – and, I would add – where we see God at work most closely in our lives.

 This was true 25 years ago, when our country suffered the tragic events of 9/11. But even in that terrible time, God was present with us. I remember a story told by Gary Finnigan. A transit police officer in New York City, Gary was walking in the underground concourse that connected the Twin Towers. He heard a low rumble that turned into a constant explosion. The buildings came down and underground, where he was, everything went black. Completely black. The air filled with thick smoke and dust, and the walls crumbled around him.

 Gary said he could hear people around him, full of fear and crying for help. But he didn’t know what to do or how to help. He had lost all sense of direction. He didn’t even know which way was up? Gary and all the others who were there were caught in the darkness. They were stuck.  

 But then he saw a beam of a flashlight shining right on him. And a voice spoke into the darkness, “Take my hand.”  “Wait!” Gary said. “There are others behind me.” Then he turned and yelled to the people “Take my hand! We have someone who can get us out!

 He couldn’t see anyone but suddenly, a hand grasped his. And then he heard the words spoken over and over, “Take my hand!   Come, we have a way out! Take my hand” as the chain became longer and longer. Take my hand…

 Carefully, slowly, the person with the light, the one whose hand he was holding, began to move and as he moved, so did a whole line of people, all grasping hands, until they were led out of the darkness and into the light.

There were 36 people were in that chain, holding hands and following the light. It was only later that Gary realized he never saw the face of the one with the light. Some encounter angels unawares.

 As for him, Gary had faith enough to follow and heart enough to give an encouraging word – and extend his hand to the next person.  Do not fear. Have courage. Take my hand. It was faith and not fear that gave those 36 people the courage to hold hands and to follow the light.2

 What is it that has most shaped and formed you? It might be a traumatic event like Gary experienced. Certainly, I have had some traumatic experiences – like the car accident that I was in when I was a young woman. Those events have certainly been a part of what has shaped and formed me.  As my doctor said to me then, “You will be fine because you are a person of faith.”  For those words, I have been ever grateful – both for the extraordinary AND for the ordinary ways that God shows up in the breaking of the bread and in the community of Christ living and working together to share God’s Good News.

 But I would add, that it isn’t only the traumatic events in our lives that shape and form us, but also the ordinary actions and ways we fill our days and weeks.  Taking time for prayer, as Jesus did, strengthens our relationship with God. Worshipping God together, being fed by God’s word and by Christ’s body and blood, strengthens us and prepares us to live a life of faith – and not of fear, a life of hope and courage and not despair.

 We live in turbulent times. There are wars and rumors of wars, shortages of food and inequities of health care. Nevertheless, because of our grounding in faith and prayer, we can be hope-filled because Jesus says to us – as he first said to the disciples, “Take Heart/ Be of good Courage.” And so, despite the challenges of our world, we do not need to be afraid. Instead, let us grasp the hand of Jesus and our neighbor and share the love and light of Christ with one another, taking a stand for justice, loving and caring for the neighbor and sharing Christ’s love in the world. Amen. 

 August 9, 2026 + Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran Church + Pastor Pamela Stalheim Lane

1 https://www.workingpreacher.org/authors/zina-jacque 2026.

2 Gary Finnigan on MPR Radio as recounted by Rev. Tania Haber.

Sunday, July 26, 2026

Vicar Karla Leitzman

Preaching Text: Romans 8:26-39

I graduated from Gustavus in 2013, so 15 years after the devastating tornado that tore through St. Peter, MN, destroying many campus buildings and homes in the community. But, because my parents are also Gustavus alumni and dedicated volunteers, I grew up being on campus for lots of events. It’s where I was baptized as an infant, though I have no memory of that occasion beyond being told that I cried the whole time. I do have memories of the big trees on campus that are no more, though smaller and newer trees have been growing in their places in the 28 years since the devastation. I remember being a child and getting dropped off at my grandparents’ house for a few days so my parents could join the hoards of alumni, friends, and community members who were flocking to campus and the town to help clean up.

My mom told me a story of being in Christ Chapel in the center of campus where everyone gathered to pray and share community together after the tornado. At one point, the then president of the college, said to the crowd assembled that the tornado was an act of God. Right next to my mom, the now late Reverent Richard Elvee, longtime beloved chaplain of the College exclaimed, “no, you fool, the tornado wasn’t an act of God, but how we respond to it is.” And even though I was not in attendance for this, I frequently find myself reflecting on it, especially in light of how we navigate an increasingly tumultuous and divided world, where natural disasters increase in number and severity around us, where our neighbors suffer. It can be so easy to look around and wonder, where in the world is God in all of this pain and suffering. If you look at the data, people struggling to understand how or if God moves in the midst of so much pain and grief is one of the top reasons people choose to not be part of a faith or worshipping community.

We don’t have to look too far to hear people, many of whom carry theological or spiritual authority, proclaim that suffering comes from God, that God uses suffering to teach us. Now, I’m not saying that people can’t or shouldn’t learn or grow from the challenging situations they navigate, but when we dole out proclamations like that, there is a whole lot of harm that can happen. Of course, for many of us throughout our lives, we have probably been told that God has a reason for everything and that suffering is doled out to teach lessons. When we go through suffering, it’s so easy to proclaim, “why me, God?” “What did I do wrong?”  When someone we love goes through pain or trauma, we can wonder how on Earth God could possibly allow such things to happen. This is all, indeed, some of the most charged wrestling we do as people of faith.

And so I find myself coming back to a place where I actually never was where the response to a terrible natural disaster is not that the tornado itself was the act of a vengeful or angry god, but that the response to the devastation was the work of a god who guides God’s beloved children to show up when neighbors are hurting. And in the aftermath of that destruction, neighbors showed up. When the catholic church was being rebuilt, First Lutheran opened that worshipping community to use their building. They even changed their sign to read First Lutheran Catholic Church of St. Peter. Neighbors moved in with neighbors as homes were rebuilt. Students walked through town cleaning up debris without being asked.       

Not that long ago, I decided to google myself to see what would come up. And to my surprise, I found a video posted by the ELCA….. of me talking. There I was in my home office, and I completely forgot that I made this video Back in 2021, when I was about to begin seminary, I applied for and received the ELCA Fund for Leaders scholarship, and it was only after I learned I’d been selected that I realized it’s actually a fairly prestigious scholarship and that I should talk about it, but my Lutheran Scandinavian sensibilities don’t lend themselves to that. I’m guessing that the ELCA asked me to reflect on why I was choosing to go to seminary. And in this video I don’t remember recording, I actually talked about how we are not promised easy days, or days without pain. We are not promised days of certainty. But, we are promised God’s grace, and we are promised God’s grace and that very often that presence and grace is made known to us through others.

In this video, since it was 2021, I referenced the beginning of the pandemic and one of the first Sundays that we found ourselves worshipping at home. Before we figured out zoom and virtual worship, my pastor at the time would send out a recording for us to watch on Sunday mornings. Pastor Carol talked about how God’s people have always been way finders, always been surprised by the intercession of the Holy Spirit in places we frequently don’t expect to look or even want to look. Fast forward to 2026, I admittedly don’t really remember making that video for the ELCA, but I do remember that early musing from Pastor Carol on being surprised by God. In those early days of the pandemic, we had no idea what we were doing, how we were going to do church. And yet, God showed up, the spirit interceded for us to move through us even though we were not in close proximity. Those days of worshipping at home, once we figured out how to do church on zoom, was actually a time when I felt the most connected to my worshipping community. I loved our coffee hours after church at home. We’d fill our coffee cups and then whoever was doing tech support for the day would put us all into random breakout rooms to visit and reflect on a prompt or a question pertaining to the lessons of the day. It was beautiful to slow down and it was quite the welcome change of pace from the oftentimes frenzied coffee hours of “normal times” when it was easy to grab your coffee after the service, talk to the same people, or move through the proverbial check list of people I needed to talk to about various things. God surprised me, and the intercession of the spirit surprised me. Finding this video that I forgot I made caused me this week to do some reflecting on our roles as wayfinders. It might be tempting to fondly look to the past for times when we thought things were simple or easy. But the reality is that we’ve always been surprised to find God present in the strangest or most unexpected places.

May we continue to look for the wonder and mystery of God’s movement. And may we ask God to send the Holy Spirit to move through us so that we might be the intercession and answer to the prayers of our neighbors.  

Amen

Sunday, July 19, 2026

Have you ever wondered, “What is heaven like?” Some people have written books about near-death experiences and the visions that they have experienced. I am not going to encourage or refute them. Some people find these books to be helpful – and if they are in keeping with Jesus’s commandments to love God and love the neighbor, then God may be using their words to encourage others.

But if you are really curious about what heaven is like – read the parables. Jesus tells many parables about what the kingdom of God is like. A parable is defined as “a teaching aid cast alongside the truth being taught” and they are meant to stick in your head, to rumble around in your soul, to bug you in your dreams – and not be easily explained or dismissed.

In the parable of the wheat and the weeds, Jesus tells us that God is like a farmer who sows good seed. But the “enemy” sows weeds into that same field. The field hands want to weed the field but the farmer refuses to pull up the weeds around his wheat plants for fear of damaging the tender wheat.

What is the truth sown alongside this story? One of the things that God is like the compassionate farming, caring for the vulnerable and not wanting to risk uprooting even one stalk of wheat or one of God’s beloved children.  And, there is evil in the world now – but that evil will not endure. God’s righteousness will prevail.

Jesus goes on to tell several other parables about the kingdom of God – setting one alongside the other to get a bigger picture about who God is and what God’s kingdom – God’s heavenly dwelling place is like. But the parable of the wheat and the weeds is stuck in his disciples’ heads. Notice, they are mostly concerned about the weeds.  They ask Jesus for an explanation.

It might be because they are taking Jesus’ parable too literally regarding gardening practices. Last summer, I decided to not weed the garden in back of my house. I was curious what would come up and I thought I should let it be wild. Well… I learned the hard way, that if I leave a vine called “Virginia Creeper” in my garden, it will crawl up my raspberry bushes, wrap itself in a death grip around my flowers and even try to strangle the trees. So this year, I got a plant identifying app, and now if I’m not sure if a plant is a weed or not, I scan it, and if it is a weed, especially if it is invasive like “Virginia” or buckthorn or nightshade… out it goes. 

The parable is clearly not giving gardening advice but Jesus’ explanation is kind of like another parable – it only raises more questions! Who or what are the “causes of sin and the evildoers” who are going to be thrown into the fire?  And what about us? And what does Jesus want us to do about it?

But before we go looking at pointing the finger at someone else, someone or some group that you or I disagree with, it would be good to do a little introspection. What are the weeds within my own heart and in my own life that keep me from growing closer to Christ?  Let us tend to the garden of our own heart. For one thing in Jesus’ explanation that is clear, is that the judge is not you or me. The judge at the end of the age is Jesus, the Son of Man. And the reapers who are doing the sorting are not us either – they are God’s angels.

So how do we tend the garden of our own heart?

For that question, I often look to the Psalms. The Psalms are the prayerbook and songbook of Jesus and have been and continue to delight, instruct and inspire people of faith in every generation. So let us look to the Psalms as we seek to tend the garden of our hearts.

Psalm 139, our Psalm for today, has long been a favorite of mine – ever since I was a child. It’s probably because my mother read a children’s story to me called : The Runaway Bunny by Margaret Wise Brown and with delightful pictures by Clement Hurd.  In this story, a little bunny announces to his mother that he is running away. She replies, “If you runaway, I will run after you.” Undeterred, the little bunny said, “If you run after me, I will become a fish in a trout stream.” His mother replied, then “I will become a fisherman and fish for you.”  The little bunny imagined becoming many things – a rock on a high mountain, a crocus in a hidden garden, a bird that flies far away, a sailboat, a tightrope walker, or even a little boy or girl (as my mother read it to me). But for each of the bunny’s ideas of what he could become in order to run away, his mother’s response showed that she would be with him – no matter what he did or where he went.

This book was inspired by Psalm 139 because this is God’s relationship with us. The Psalmist writes, “O Lord, you have searched me and known me. You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from far away.” God knows you. God knows your heart. God knows where you are and even what you are thinking.  It’s too wonder-full that it is beyond our ability to comprehend.

So what is the instinct when something is beyond our understanding? Like the little bunny, there is a temptation to run away! But… the Psalmist also wonders – where could I go?  For if I go to the farthest point – the moon or even Mars – God is there. For God is with you and me in the deepest valley and God is with us on the brightest, hottest day and in the darkest and coldest night.

As I was studying this passage in my Bible at home, I noticed that I had drawn an arrow from verse 18 to verse 23. These are part of the Psalm that we skipped. 

Curious, I read the missing verses: “O that you would kill the wicked, O God, and that the bloodthirsty would depart from me—those who speak of you maliciously, and lift themselves up against you for evil! Do I not hate those who hate you, O LORD? And do I not loathe those who rise up against you? I hate them with a perfect hatred; I count them as my enemies.”

I obviously didn’t like these verses and…now you know why the lectionary skips them. And yet, these verses speak to our human condition. We have righteous anger at times. And…it is right to be angry when a gunman shoots schoolchildren, it is right to be appalled that some people go hungry while others feast, it is righ to condemn injustice and cruelty, it is right be angry when anyone – regardless of who they are – is treated as “less than” a beloved child of God.  But…what do we do with our “perfect hatred?”

The Psalmist gives us a good path. In the beginning of the Psalm, he noted that God has searched me and knows him. But after acknowledging the hatred that he carries, instead of acting on his anger out of the power of his own rage, he prays: “Search me out O God, and know my heart; try me and know my thoughts.”  And then he seeks direction from God: “Look well whether there be any wickedness in me and lead me.”  Friends in Christ, we would do well, when angry at whatever injustice we hear or see, to first pray: “God search me out and then lead me forward”. For this is how we tend the garden of our own heart before we act.  And then, we invite God to lead us.

For God is not only all-knowing but God’s wisdom is beyond our understanding. As the Psalmist declares, “How weighty to me are your thoughts O God! I try to count them – they are more than the sand; I come to the end – I am still with you.” Ps 139: 18

This is the conclusion of the Runaway Bunny too. After the little bunny said that he would become a little boy, the mother responded, “If you become a little boy and run into a house… I will become your mother and catch you in my arms and hug you.” To which the bunny replied, “Shucks… I might just as well stay where I am and be your little bunny.” 

Beloved children of God, as you tend the garden of your heart, may you always remember that you are God’s child and that God is and wants to be with you always, loving you and leading you in God’s way. Amen. 

1Thayer's Greek Lexicon, STRONGS NT 3850: παραβολή

Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane + Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran + July 19, 2026

Sunday, July 12, 2026

Vicar Karla Leitzman

            Several years ago when I was working as a fundraiser at Gustavus, I found myself in a little bit of a pickle that will probably feel familiar to anyone who has done major gift work in a nonprofit setting. My job was to meet with donors and alumni to listen to their stories and experiences and then invite support to the College. It’s essentially the same thing that I do now for Global Refuge. Listen, discern, invite support. There was a donor couple I was working with at Gustavus where I felt like I just couldn’t figure out how to direct their philanthropy. They were both alums as were all three of their children. They and the kids were all involved in lots of activities on campus and the areas that this couple wanted to support were extensive. Everything from music ensembles they themselves played in, to the teams all their children played on, to the library, to scholarship support, to the general fund which touches every area of the campus every single day. As we met and talked they shared that when they got a request in the mail or in their email inbox to solicit support for something on campus, they just made a gift. Pretty much any request that was sent to them yielded a donation. Essentially, they were dream donors. So, my job was to help them think comprehensively about their giving, and how to make a plan for their generosity for the next five years because making a plan for prolonged support helps both the organization and the donors.

            Over the course of two years, I sent them about $300,000 worth of proposals, hoping that something, anything would stick. I sent $50,000 proposals for 5 years, dividing up that support across several areas of campus. I sent proposals that would support all of the areas they cared about plus including some “open” support for when they received those requests in the mail or email. I tried so many things and they accepted none of them. My boss told me to let those proposals marinate but that I needed to move on to other donors and prospective donors. I doubted anything I sewed would ever come to fruition.

            On New Year’s Eve, at about 3pm, I was out for my annual walk in the woods at the regional park by my house. I like taking a long, quiet walk to reflect on the past year and the new one about to begin. My phone started ringing and I looked down and it was this donor couple. I answered and they said, “we’re going to do what you sent.” I said that’s so wonderful, which proposal did you want to go with?” After a long pause on the other end, they said, “well all of them.” I clarified, “you are accepting all of the proposals I sent you?” They did. So, I rushed back home out of the woods to pull up my work computer to help them make the first pledge payments so it would count for that year’s taxes. My colleague in Advancement Services even had to manually turn off the security alerts that flags any gift over $10,000 as fraud because they wanted to start making $25,000 pledge payments that night.

            I felt like I was throwing cooked spaghetti at the wall having no idea what was going to stick, no idea if any seeds I was throwing in the dirt were going to grow. I figured nothing would come of what I sent out, but I did what I could control. So I share this story today because it is an example of the ways that, in settings where it is easy to identify all of the places where things are so out of our control, especially in this chaotic world we navigate individually and in community, it can be hard to focus on the certainties and the things that are not variable. Blessedly, God’s love and grace which Jesus describes in today’s gospel reading, are certainties and are not variable.

            Today’s parable is yet another beautiful example of Jesus meeting his audience where they are, of relating to them and seeing them for exactly who they are. Undoubtedly, there would have been farmers in this crowd who would have known what it was like to plant seeds and wait to see what the yield would look like. They couldn’t control which seeds would take root and which wouldn’t, what the weather did or how the soil would be unable to support crops. They couldn’t control how much the Romans would increase taxes that year, what percentage of the crops would be taken to feed Roman soldiers. What they could control was utilizing what they knew. We see so many places where adversity mounts against the good we try to do, the seeds of goodness we work so hard to plant. But amidst all that adversity, God’s love will always break through. Threats to the flourishing of the Gospel will always be present and will always be many. We cannot fully eliminate all of those threats because a lot of them are frankly out of our control. People we love will doubt the presence and very existence of God as they navigate hurtful and painful circumstances and tragedies. We very well may experience a tragedy ourselves and wonder where in the world God could possibly be. But we can enable ourselves to share God’s love through ourselves and walk with them as they navigate that pain. We can work to remember to look for God’s love personified in those around us. 

            I have talked before about how we receive a different image of Jesus in each of the gospels. In Matthew, we see Jesus as the teacher, the one who guides his friends and followers to learn for themselves. Jesus uses parables like today’s story to break down really complicated ideas and make them more accessible, to meet them where they are and make his teachings of love and care easier to grasp and understand. Because making real God’s kingdom here on Earth does not simply come with just hearing or listening, it comes from hearing, understanding, and then enacting. It is one thing to hear about God’s love, grace, and justice that is so desperately needed in this hurting world, it is another thing to act it out, to make it real to our neighbors.

The creating of God’s kingdom is dependent upon Jesus’ followers, hearing, understanding and sharing that love which defies all understanding. It depends on his listeners understanding that the love and promises he brings from God are so incredibly counter cultural to the world around them and the same is still true today. Even though Jesus might not explicitly say it in today’s gospel reading, he knows that there will soon come a time when he will not be with his disciples physically anymore and the work of creating God’s kingdom on Earth will be left to them, so it is vital that they cultivate the right conditions for the good seed to take root in their hearts so they can then share it. The same is true for us. We know that we must cultivate the right conditions for the seed of God’s goodness and love to take root in us so that we can then share it widely and expansively. May we not only ask God to make us good soil, but may we also ask God to work through us and to work together to communally cultivate that vital fertile soil.

Sunday, July 5, 2026

This week we, as a country, will be celebrating our 250th Anniversary.  We are a diverse country and so people acknowledge this date in different ways: Some of you are celebrating by getting together with family and friends, others will attend fireworks. Some may be protesting the ways they feel the country has not lived up our promises and values.  But, however you celebrate our country’s anniversary, I’m glad that you are here today. 

Thomas Jefferson penned the inspirational and aspirational preamble of The Declaration of Independence which declares, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and….. the Pursuit of happiness.”

 Life, Liberty, the pursuit of happiness – these are good words, inspiring words – carefully chosen to be words upon which even in a divided society then and now, all people can agree. 

 But what does “the pursuit of happiness” mean?  I recently learned that an earlier draft said “property”. But the pursuit of happiness was and is more expansive than property. It is not seeking fleeting pleasures, striving to get ahead, or to accumulate the most riches. That was what the King of England represented. It is not about “pulling oneself up you’re your bootstraps” and seeking the best for you and yours. That’s individualism.  Instead, the pursuit of happiness meant then and now becoming the best that you could be – and that included civic engagement and caring for the neighbor.

 And that sounds like what Jesus calls us to do. Love and care for the neighbor. The “pursuit of happiness” means caring for not only ourselves but also our neighbor and the world around us.

 But it is easy for us to go astray.

 Jesus has been healing and teaching and proclaiming Good news to the people – but, in the beginning of our Gospel, Jesus sounds frustrated with “this generation” – which could apply to our generation too. In that day, people – especially the Pharisees, those who were supposed to be focused on following God’s word and God’s way were not listening to God’s message. They didn’t listen to John the Baptist and they didn’t listen to Jesus. Instead, they were so intent on following the human interpretation of those laws that they ended up putting their interpretation of the law above God.

In the verses that the lectionary skips over, Jesus pronounces WOE on the cities where he had done a lot of teaching – and yet they (the religious leaders especially) had not listened.  But then… in the midst of his tirade against these cities, Jesus breaks into prayer.

Wouldn’t that be a great thing for us to emulate? At those times in which we are furious with something – and with reason – that we do what Jesus did. Instead of letting the horrible thing take up all of our energy and consume us, we turn away from focusing on it– whatever it is -- and instead start talking with God. 

When Jesus says Amen, he turns to the people, full of compassion and, reading from Eugene Peterson’s translation Jesus says:

Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

For you see, the pursuit of happiness is found in following Jesus. Jesus invites us, actually commands us to rest – to put away our strivings and instead follow him and “Learn the unforced rhythms of grace.” 

Taking time to rest isn’t always easy to do when there are pressing needs around us. But this is nothing new. I read a story recently of a group of faithful pioneers on a journey to California in a wagon train. They travelled six days and then, taking their sabbath, they would rest on the seventh day. But as the seasons changed, some in their group were anxious that they were going to get there before winter and so they argued that they should keep going and not take a break for the Sabbath. The group split into two and the next Sabbath, some of them kept going, while the others rested. Guess which group got to California first? It turned out that not only did the people need to stop to pray and rest, but the horses needed a break too and pulled much more strongly and quickly when they got a Sabbath rest.  

After all, in Deuteronomy when God gave the commandment to rest – it was for all of God’s creation – not just for the rich and powerful and not just for people. The workers, the animals, the land all need rest. 

This rest that Jesus calls us into is not a perpetual vacation. Jesus invites us, commands us, to take a real rest.

But even though we need rest, what Jesus invites into is more than just rest.  Jesus invites us to “learn from me.” As one scholar points out, The command to “learn from me” in the Greek is related to the word for “disciple.” This is an invitation to discipleship and to living a life with Jesus.

This is also the answer to our pursuit of happiness It is an invitation to walk with Jesus so that we learn how to live “freely and lightly.” For when we walk freely and lightly – the “burden” ; the mission that we are given feels light. 

For example, a friend of mine in Northfield got involved in driving students to school during the “surge” of ICE this past winter. She said that even while she was horrified at the way her neighbors were forced to live – she was really happy to get to know her neighbors kids in driving them to school. And she was surprised at the joy of community that she shared in being a part of the crew that helped simply drive scared kids to school. She did not see this work as a hardship.  As Jesus said, ...” I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you.” Or, in the words of an old song, “He aint heavy; He’s my brother.” She – and many others - felt honored to be able to help her neighbor.

God has called us into community, for to be yoked with Jesus means to care for our neighbor just as Jesus cares for us. I see that in the work that the New Creation teams have been doing in building relationships, sharing the gifts of our congregations and in exploring, together the possibilities for a future life together.

Brothers and sisters, siblings in Christ, may your “pursuit of happiness” be filled by your walk with Jesus who promises not to lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. But to instead fill you with joy, peace, love and courage and to give you rest. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Sunday, June 28, 2026

My family gathered together last week for family wedding. It was great fun and afterwards we took family pictures with the bride and groom. But after the picture, three different people asked me, “Who are those people in OUR family photo?” It wasn’t a big group. But I didn’t know them either. 

I was really happy being with my extended family and relatives – but that couple were standing alone, all by themselves and so, I took a big breath, walked over to the couple, intending to introduce myself and welcome them. But instead, they welcomed me, warmly, saying, “Hello Pam, it’s been so long since we have seen you…” I was even more stumped then and a little embarrassed. To be fair, they had the advantage. I officiated at the ceremony and so I had already introduced myself to the whole gathering. So, they knew who I was. But I did not have a clue as to who they were – and neither did the rest of my extended family – even though we were just in a family photo together.

I’ll admit that for nanosecond, when they called me by name, I was tempted to play along, hoping that my brain would remember who this couple was - but since none other family members had remembered either, I decided I might as well just ask…even if it was going to be embarrassing. And so, I apologized for not remembering their names…  And then…which of these two things do you think happened:

a)     they looked aghast and publicly shamed me for my thoughtlessness or …

b)    They were more than gracious, reminding me of their names and said they were first cousins too!

Of course they welcomed me graciously. They were related by marriage – they were from my aunt’s side and I am from my uncle’s side of the family. They also turned out to be really nice people with whom we had a lot in common – she was even a pastor in a different denomination. I enjoyed getting to know them – and was so glad I went to welcome them – for I was given a lovely welcome by them instead!

Welcome. In our Gospel lesson of three verses, Jesus says the word “Welcome” six times!

As we have heard for the past two Sundays, Jesus has been preparing his disciples to be sent out to do what he has been doing, healing, preaching and proclaiming the good news. He’s also told them that it won’t always be easy because the cost of discipleship entails putting Jesus before tradition, family, and your own safety and status. They could be persecuted. Some would welcome them and others would not. Division would occur even amongst their families.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus sounds like parents sending their kid off on the school bus for the first time, tenderly calling the disciples, his “little ones” as he seeks to assure them to take the risk because his presence would be with them. “Whoever welcomes you, welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me, welcomes the one who sent me.”

Further, Jesus says there will be a reward for giving even a cup of cold water to one of his ‘little ones,” his disciples. Notice that it doesn’t take much to be welcoming. Even the tiniest gesture – a glass of cold water – will be rewarded.  What is the reward you might ask? The reward is the presence of Jesus.

The disciples were being sent out into a world equipped not with a Visa card for a hotel stay, not with Bibles or credentials but only with the message of Jesus. And Jesus says, that’s enough, because while they weren’t carrying a lot of luggage, they were carrying Jesus.

Brothers and sisters, siblings of Christ, like the disciples, those first “sent out,” every Sunday, you too are “sent out” into the world that you live, work and play in to do God’s work in the neighborhood. We – you and me are sent out, bearing Christ and so – whatever we say or do – whether at a church potluck or at a community meeting or in the grocery store, we are bringing Jesus with us – and Jesus is bringing God the Father too.

One church, as a reminder to themselves of the presence of Jesus, always left one chair open in their gatherings. They called it the Jesus chair. It wasn’t a special chair marked with a crown, it was just an extra ordinary chair. And yet… it was a reminder that Jesus was with them.

One day, a woman from the neighborhood decided to check out the book club at that church. She had called and found out the details and had planned to get there early – but ended up arriving late. They had already begun but she noticed that there was an empty chair near the doorway and so she slipped into the chair and tried to be as unobtrusive as possible. The woman closest to her welcomed her – without making her feel awkward for being late – and she was accepted by the others too and made to feel at home. After the meeting, she thanked the woman next to her for being so welcoming. The woman answered, well, we always try to welcome newcomers – and besides you are sitting in the Jesus chair – so we had to welcome you in the same way we would welcome Jesus.

Welcome the stranger. This is a theme throughout the scriptures. In Hebrews we read, "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing so some people have entertained angels without knowing it.”  That verse might be referring to Abraham and Sarah who welcomed three strangers – who turned out to be messengers of God, sent to tell Abraham and Sarah that their prayer for a son would be answered. But there are other examples. The Samaritan woman at the well was invited into conversation and transformation when Jesus came and asked for a drink of water. And after the disciples on the road to Emmaus invited the stranger to stay with them, they discovered that it was Jesus who had been walking with them when he took on the role of host in the breaking of the bread and in the blessing of the meal.  

They thought they were the ones doing a good deed by welcoming the stranger – only to discover that it was Jesus who was welcoming and blessing them.  

Hospitality can work that way. The disciples thought they were welcoming the stranger… but then Jesus welcomed them. I thought I was welcoming the unknown couple to the wedding – but then they welcomed me. That is the tricky thing about hospitality and welcome.  … are you the one sent out? Or are you the one rewarded for welcoming the stranger who is Jesus???

Yes.

Jesus is calling us to both welcome the stranger, the other and to do God’s work in our world, in our neighborhood. And we are rewarded with the presence of Jesus either way. It doesn’t matter how small the action. Just a cup of cold water. A cup of coffee and a cookie.  Everything counts.

We like to think that we are the welcoming church on Welcome avenue. And sometimes we are! I have gotten some really good reports back of people feeling truly welcomed. But, there are times when we are not. There are times when we are so eager to connect with our church friends that we neglect a visitor, or someone sitting alone, or someone we do not know rather than reaching out and offering a cup of cold water, or a cup of coffee, a smile and an invitation to come and sit down with us.   

Next week we are hosting the New Creation Worship and so it will be a great time for us to practice our hospitality – welcoming Jesus when we see the eyes of someone who we do not know by name.  I realize that it is a holiday weekend, the morning after the 4th of July festivities and some of you will be gone. But this is not the only time or place where we can practice welcoming the stranger as if he or she were Jesus.

But this is an opportunity for us, and so I invite you, or rather Jesus invites you… to be mindful of being welcoming next week and in the weeks to come. Remember, you are not welcoming a stranger; you are welcoming Jesus, God the Father and their friend.

But this isn’t automatically in our wheelhouse. So, I thought we could practice by imagining a couple of scenarios for next week:

Here’s the first one:

You come to church next week and - heaven forbid – someone else is sitting in “your” pew.  What are you going to do?

Well, you could: Tell them to leave because it is your pew. (It’s been done.) OR.. you could Say hello! Introduce yourself. Ask them their names. – AND then, ask them if you can join them? Let them welcome you.

Scenario 2

After worship, you see your friends and without intending to be exclusive, you form a circle to chat and catch up. Other people walk around you… and out the door. OR

You look for your church friends – AND you look for someone or someone’s you don’t know. Maybe they are standing by themselves. You invite these people to join you.  You discover that you and they have lots of connections – including Jesus, who is standing right there too.

You get the idea. Every Sunday, after worship, Jesus sends us out, back into the world in which we live, work and play. And every time you dare to welcome a stranger, Jesus is with you and, who knows, he may even reveal himself to you in the breaking of the bread, in sharing a cup of water – or a cup of coffee. Thanks be to Jesus who welcomes you – and me – again and again and who continues to show up when we welcome another. Amen.

Sunday, June 21, 2026

Vicar Karla Leitzman

           I really love a Ken Burns documentary, all of them, really. My favorite is his civil war series, though. I think it is absolutely incredible, and I have watched it so many times. In the second episode of the series, there is a feature on two brothers that has always stuck with me. Prominent Kentucky politician, John Crittenden, who actually happened to be an ardent supporter of the Union, had two sons- George and Thomas. George signed up with the Confederates and Thomas with the Union Army. George was a West Point graduate, like many Confederate soldiers, who resigned from the U.S. Army to become a Major General in the Confederate forces. He led troops at the Battle of Mill Springs but faced severe criticism and a court-martial after rumors circulated that he had been intoxicated during the engagement. His brother, Thomas, remained loyal to the Union and rose to the rank of Major General. He led forces through major conflicts including the Battle of Shiloh, the Battle of Stones River, and the Battle of Chickamauga.

We hear about how the American Civil War was the brothers’ war. Families living in border states like Maryland and Virginia especially had people who enlisted on both sides of the conflict. Any cursory study of the American Civil War will highlight the strife that was present in countless families who were wrenched apart by this bloody and horrific war. This nation tore itself apart. One battle after another waged, many with casualty numbers above 30%, desecrated land and people, all over the belief that a human being could own another human being. And so, since I naturally have recently rewatched the Ken Burns Civil War series yet again, I found myself thinking about the nature of the ripping apart of families, communities, and so many parts of this country, and the way we continue to live in a time of deep, deep divisions.

In light of that, and really as it is by itself, Jesus’ message today feels foreboding. He says, “Do not think that I have come to bring peace to the earth; I have not come to bring peace but a sword. For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law,and one’s foes will be members of one’s own household.” But wait a minute, didn’t Jesus come to bring peace? Didn’t Jesus say, in the very same book today’s gospel message comes from, “blessed are the peace makers?” So at face value, the Jesus of today’s gospel reading feels stark and just downright uncomfortable.

I want to note that this passage has been used to cause untold harm throughout the history of Christianity. This passage has been used to force conversions to Christianity, it has been used by pastors who tell families that following Jesus means ostracizing their LGBTQ+ children, even if it means tearing families apart. It has been used to tell people that their suffering comes from God to teach lessons and on and on and on. So, where in the world is the word of hope? Why is Jesus saying this to his disciples?

Essentially since Easter, I have found myself thinking a lot about Jesus’ disciples, who they were, their motivations, their lives, what they would have been feeling while they were traveling around with Jesus, how they would have felt after Jesus’ death and resurrection. What it would have felt like for them to leave behind their homes, their families, to follow this man from a backwater town in Galilee that no one had heard of. This ragtag group of fishermen, carpenters, tax collectors, learners, sinners, and saints, all of them. It would appear that they did not really sign up to be teachers or preachers themselves. They left home to follow Jesus to amplify his teachings and lessons, not necessarily to do it themselves. But, Jesus knows that the day is going to come when he will no longer be with them, and they will be the ones left to continue his ministry. And so today’s gospel lesson is Jesus giving them the very stark reality of just what following him looks like in first century Rome. We see instances throughout all four gospels where Jesus gives “pep talks” so to speak to motivate his friends for what they will be called to do. He reminds them that he is with them, that they are loved. And today, we get an important dose of reality: truly following Jesus comes at the expense of holding tightly to the values of the world and the Empire.

Throughout Lent and Easter, I spoke a lot from this pulpit about how different Jesus was from what people wanted in a Messiah. They yearned for a military leader who would lift them from the tyranny of Rome. They yearned for revenge and for a return of God killing the first borns of Egypt. And what they got was something very different, and that difference got Jesus killed. Jesus comes with a ministry and a message that is so completely antithesis to the time and place he came to, and the same remains true today.

Jesus does not say blessed are the peace keepers but blesses are the peace makers in the book of Matthew. Because, peace making and peace keeping are two very different things. The work of making peace, of striving and fighting for it, is not simply working for the status quo and to not ruffle feathers. Especially as Minnesotans with our Minnesota niceness, we often practice conflict avoidance because it just feels really uncomfortable. And Jesus reminds us that sharing God’s love, grace, mercy, and justice is so much more important than anything we might do to cling to a status quo. And, it just might mean being at odds with the people who advocate for the opposite of those things. I find myself reflecting a lot on the irony that when we really dig into Scripture to learn who Jesus was, who Jesus is, and what that means about who God is, that standing up for that is very counter cultural to what the world we live in advocates. And perhaps the greatest irony I identify with is that we find ourselves in a time and space where truly being disciples of Christ puts us at odds with others who call themselves followers of Christ. We are seeing an alarming rise in the image of a Jesus who has been manufactured to value wealth, ruggedness, rigidity, harshness. And yet, when we really look at Scripture, we instead find a Jesus who values softness, righteousness, and love above all else.

Let us hold fast to that Jesus in our discipleship. Amen.

Sunday, June 14, 2026

Jesus has been busy. In the past two chapters of Matthew, Jesus has cleansed a leper, healed a servant, healed Peter’s mother – and when people saw what he had done, people from the whole area brought him their loved ones to heal. He healed a hemorrhaging woman and a little girl thought dead. And he wasn’t done. Wherever he goes, Jesus cleanses the lepers, heals the sick and brings wholeness and healing. And people kept coming. I wouldn’t blame him for getting tired of the constant demands. But Jesus doesn’t despair or complain. Instead, seeing how harassed and helpless they are, Jesus has compassion on the people. He compares them to a “sheep without a shepherd.”

 Sheep without a shepherd  -- that was like saying parents who abandoned their children on the freeway. Jesus expected the leaders – both the religious leaders and the king to care for the people, like shepherds care for their sheep and as parents care for their children. But Jesus could see that they were not doing that – rather the opposite. They were only caring for themselves.

 However, instead of complaining about the leaders who were not doing their job, Jesus invites the disciples to pray. He says, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few, therefore, ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”

 Pray to God for laborers. Notice, he doesn’t ask them to pray for a new shepherd. Jesus is the Good Shepherd. He asks the disciples to pray for laborers. So, I imagine that they did. After all, if you had been following Jesus, hearing him teach and preach and heal the people and Jesus asked you to pray for laborers for the harvest – of course you would pray.

 And then, Jesus answers the prayer by making the disciples the laborers! Maybe the lesson is: be careful what you pray for! Jesus then gives his disciples authority over unclean spirits, instructing them to “cure the sick; raise the dead; cleanse those with skin disease, cast out demons.” Or in other words, Jesus says: “Do what I do.” They become not only disciples – followers of Jesus – but apostles which means, those who are sent out.

 How did they do? Matthew doesn’t say. But what we do know is that the world is not much different now. People are still harassed and helpless and in need of health, healing and hearing the Good news of Jesus.

 And Jesus still has compassion at the sight of the world today and says to you and to me, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few, therefore, pray to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”

 Jesus is inviting you to pray – and I urge you to pray boldly. Because when we pray with all our heart for God to heal the injustices of our world and of our community, God listens. For Jesus still has compassion for us and our world.  And sometimes, God answers our prayer in the way that we pray it.  Sometimes God acts in a way that only God can act.  At other times, God uses our prayer to stir our hearts into action, sometimes to do things that we never thought that we could do.  

 A few weeks ago, I was reminded of a few of the times in which our prayers turned to action.  At our first meeting of the New Creation Neighboring and Justice Visioning Group, we were sharing the gifts we already have.  One of our questions was to a recall way in which we as a church responded with love to our neighbor. One person wrote, “The Emily Wood Fundraiser.”

 That note pricked my memory. It was 2013. We had been praying for Emily – a young person from our congregation – for a long time. She was a healthy teenage gymnast but she suddenly was sick and needed medical attention. I will never forget how people from this congregation, her family and her father’s workplace, came together to raise funds and to support this family. We became the answer to our prayers for we became the laborers, the hands and feet of Jesus, caring for our neighbor.

The same thing happens every year at the Near Foodshelf Christmas giveaway. Parents come to the Crystal community center to “shop” for gifts, hats, mittens and blankets  for their kids.  The whole place is full of boxes and boxes of gifts given by you and me and other faithful people like you and many of you help distribute those gifts, walking with the parents, getting to know them and their children and helping them to find the perfect gift. In doing this, every year, we become the answer to prayer. You become the laborers, the hands and feet and voice of Jesus.

And yet… it is easy to get busy, to focus on our own tasks at hand and put off the work that God is calling us into through the needs of the neighbor. A nurse was just starting her rounds when an older man who was not doing well reached out to her and asked, “Can you sit with me for a while?” The nurse had many stops to make so she said to him, let me go and take care of the rest of the people on my rounds and then I’ll come back to you.” But when she came back, he had already died. She so deeply regretted not making it back on time that she started an organization whose purpose was to provide presence for the dying so that no one would have to die alone.

  “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few, therefore, pray to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”

There are many ways in which we can become the answer to Jesus’ prayer.  Whether it is working together to get affordable senior housing in our neighborhood  - which is how Robbinsway came about  -- or by making sandwiches for  people at Agate housing, or tying blankets for LSS or assembling bags of food for school children’s families with EveryMeal or protesting the cruel and unusual treatment of citizens and immigrants by ice officers, or donating money for food to NEAR,  all of these are ways in which our prayers have turned to action.

 Most of these examples are intentional service-oriented actions. And these are great. But also, be ready for those times in which, in your everyday life, like the nurse who was asked to stay for a moment longer with the patient – you may be asked to take a moment longer with a visitor at church, let a harried mother cut in front of you at the checkout line, listen to a stranger, invite a neighbor over for a cup of coffee or give a ride to another neighbor. For God doesn’t just work through our pre-planned programs. Be aware of the ways that you can be the answer to Jesus’ prayer to be the laborer, or to be the hands and feet, and heart and voice of Jesus.

This is the work that Jesus calls us to do in our church, our neighborhood and in our community. This is not new. This is the work of Jesus that is never done as long as there are people who are hungry; people who are hurting; people who are in need of a good word and a listening ear, people who are in need of hearing the Good News of Jesus in the midst of a hurting world. And Jesus not only prays for laborers but invites you and me to pray too sends YOU out to do it.

As Teresa of Avila, a woman who was a reformer, a poet and a mystic from the 1500s wrote a poem encouraging people then and now to live out their faith in both words and deeds. She writes:

 Christ has no body but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
Compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,
Yours are the eyes, you are his body.
Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
compassion on this world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.

   Christ Has No Body byTeresa of Avila (1515–1582) 

 Sisters, brothers, sibling in Christ, may your eyes look upon the world with the compassion of Jesus and may your feet, your hands, your eyes, and your mouth do what Jesus did and bring wholeness and healing to our church and to our community. Let us do it all in Jesus’ name. Amen.