Sunday, April 28, 2024

Beloved

April 28, 2024 + Faith-Lilac Way + Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

Hon. Darl’n. Sweetie. I’m not sure if it is as true now as it used to be, but in the past if you went a small-town diner in the south the waitress might call you “Hon” or “Darl’n.” Or maybe, when you were a child, someone called you “princess” or “champ” or maybe you referred to a little one or a pet with an endearing word? It may have just been a habit in the South, but when said by someone who knows you, and who loves you, these little words are meant to express love and care and are meant to show that you are loved.

 In our Gospel, using metaphor, Jesus says, “I am the Vine” and “You are the Branches.” Jesus knows you and loves you…and calls you “Branches.” It’s not an endearment that often comes to mind. I mean, what comes to mind when you think about vines and branches? I think about an interwoven tangled mess in which one vine overlaps another – and all are dependent upon the one vine that is rooted in the soil.  So when Jesus says, “I AM the Vine.” You Are the Branches, Jesus is describing our relationship. We are dependent upon Jesus for life and for our very being and Jesus depends upon you and me to go out and bear the fruit that God has given us to bear.

 This is why John calls you “Beloved. You are loved by God.  This is the relationship that was claimed for you when you were baptized. You are God’s Beloved child and because of this love which God so freely gives to us through Jesus Christ, we can love others.

And this is what John calls us to do. John writes, “Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God.” This is the life to which you are called. Or as Henri Nouwen writes, “You are invited to live the life of the Beloved.”

This sounds lovely. When I think of the life of the beloved living in community with one another, I think of a community in which people are accepting instead of judging, serving one another instead of demanding what’s theirs; listening to one another instead of shouting down or talking over the other. But how do we do that in our world that is so messed up?  I’ll admit it can be overwhelming to hear the news of wars raging around the world, the horrible way that people are treated and the lack of civility displayed by leaders especially in social media. It is tempting to just shut it all off and ignore the problems of everyone else.

 But when John writes, “Beloved, let us love one another,” I don’t think that he or Jesus is calling us to love only those in this room, and of this room only those who agree with you on everything. You’ll find that group gets really small… really fast. It reminds me of the story of a pastor who, with his wife, broke away from his church because he declared that they were all heretics – and then, looking at his wife, he said, “I’m not sure about you either.”

 When we start isolating ourselves from the problems of the world and community around us, the circle gets small fast. This is not what John had in mind when he wrote, “Beloved, let us love one another.”  And yet, during the pandemic, to keep people healthy, a lot of people ended up isolated. But, as we discovered, isolation isn’t healthy either. 

 Almost a year ago, U.S. Surgeon General Dr. Vivek Murthy declared a national epidemic of loneliness and isolation. He wrote, “Our epidemic of loneliness and isolation has been an underappreciated public health crisis that has harmed individual and societal health. Our relationships are a source of healing and well-being hiding in plain sight – one that can help us live healthier, more fulfilled, and more productive lives.”1

 It turns out that loneliness is a problem for children, youth, and adults of all ages and this is not a problem that is happening in some far-off country. This is a problem that is happening in Robbinsdale, Crystal, New Hope, Plymouth, Maple Grove, Brooklyn Center, Brooklyn Park, Osseo, Big Lake, Wayzata, Minneapolis, Golden Valley, or wherever else that you live. This crisis is local. This crisis may be your crisis – but even if it is not – it is your neighbor’s crisis. 

 Nick Tangen, the Minneapolis Area Synod Director of Faith Practices, Neighboring Practices writes that this report ought to “light a fire in the bellies of churches across the country [because]… For generations churches and faith communities of all traditions have been beacons of social connection in the neighborhoods where they gather. It is faith communities who have so often gathered neighbors at the table for a shared meal, celebrated community with block parties, and connected children and youth with summer programming and outdoor ministry. This is an epidemic we are built to address.” 2

 So how do we address this problem that is hiding in plain sight?

Perhaps the first step is to be honest about who we are. We are a community of imperfect people who make mistakes, and this is why we take time to confess our shortcomings, our sins and take time to receive forgiveness and reconciliation. We know that God loves and forgives – every time. No matter what it is that we have said or done. God loves you and forgives you.

I also want this place to be a place where we can be honest about who we are because we know that God loves us whether we are feeling like our best selves or whether we are hurting.

Unfortunately, churches have a reputation of being judging rather than accepting. But we want to change that reputation. God is the judge. We are called to love one another and to make this place a place where all people are welcome, a place where anyone can belong. So come as you are. If you want to wear shorts and sandals – wear shorts and sandals. If you like to dress up – dress up. But don’t do it for me or for other people here. Wear what you want. Be who you are. For that is the person God made you to be.  Again, “You are invited to live the life of the Beloved.”

But if you are wondering Luther’s catechism question, “What does that mean?” or if you are wondering what concrete steps could I take to address the issue of loneliness in myself or in my community, then I have a few ideas to share.

The first comes from the Surgeon General himself. In an interview by professor and religious author Kate Bowler, Dr. Vivek Murthy shared some ideas that his department is challenging people to do. He calls it the 5 by 5 challenge – do 5 actions over the next 5 days. There are only three actions: Express gratitude to someone; or extend support to someone or by ask for help of someone. Those three things – mix them up however you want –but he believes that if you do those three things Express gratitude to someone; or extend support to someone or by ask for help of someone for five days you will not only feel less lonely yourself but that you will help others to feel less lonely.3 Those actions seem pretty simple, right? They also seem very much in line with loving others as Christ loves us.

We as the church know how to do these things – express gratitude, serve the neighbor and invite the neighbor, the other, to help. I would also add, invite someone to share in fellowship with you. For example, invite someone to come to roast a hotdog or share a s’more at the Gathering this summer. Invite someone to Treats and talk or to catch a beverage after church or after work. And then – something that we can do that not everyone does – Pray. Pray for the courage to love your neighbor and then pray for your neighbor too. These are a few of the ways that we can live as the beloved community. Again, as Nouwen says, “You are invited to live the life of the Beloved.” I look forward to living into this beloved community with you and learning with you the unique ways that the Holy Spirit is calling you and us to do this Holy work. Amen.

 1 https://www.hhs.gov/about/news/2023/05/03/new-surgeon-general-advisory-raises-alarm-about-devastating-impact-epidemic-loneliness-isolation-united-states.html

2 Nick Tangen, https://nicholastangen.com/facing-an-epidemic-of-loneliness-in-our-neighborhoods/

3 https://katebowler.com/podcasts/made-to-belong/

Sunday, April 21, 2024

To Serve and Preserve:  A matter of context.

Context matters.  That’s one of those lessons we’re taught in high school English and literature classes.  If you quote a sentence or phrase without considering the context in which it was used, then the intended meaning of that phrase can become skewed, altered, even reversed, or lost completely.  Context is important.  Always.  The surrounding literary content or dialogue is necessary for understanding the meaning or intent of what is spoken or read.  Even changing the position of a phrase within the correct context can sometimes alter- change the way we hear it, and what we think it means.  Context is important.  Always.

Context matters in scripture too.  In my ethics class, my professor told us over and over and over again, that no portion of scripture can be interpreted on its own but must be understood within the context of the entirety of scripture as a congruent whole.  So far as he was concerned, the Bible is not a collection of random books and stories bound together randomly, so that we can study them individually, apart from the whole.  But rather, ethically, and theologically, every piece of scripture, whether a single verse or an entire book, must be interpreted as a part of the greater whole.  

And yet…that’s not what we generally do, even in worship.  We follow a lectionary that suggests small sections from several different parts of scripture, that someone has decided should be read and interpreted together.  But each one is taken out of context.  And sometimes that context matters a very great deal.

For instance, we occasionally read the creation story from genesis 1, and this year we will read a portion of the Genesis 2 creation story, but we never get that in full, and never get both creation stories at the same time.  And there’s a problem with that.  You see, the first creation story ends at verse 3 of Genesis 2, immediately followed by a second creation story.  These stories arose at different times in Israel’s history.  But when the book of Genesis was divided into chapters and verses, someone deliberately decided to make Genesis 1 bleed over into Genesis 2 so that these two creation stories would be read together, because they need to be read together to interpret them properly.  I’m curious, how many of you knew there is a second creation story?

Genesis 1 is beautifully poetic, almost songlike, with the repetitive refrain “and there was evening, and there was morning” for each day.   According to theologian William Brown, Genesis 1 is also a mathematical marvel.  It’s surely the most familiar Biblical creation story.  God creates by simply speaking, and the earth responds, doing all the work.  The order it gives for the creation of the plants and animals is almost scientifically correct, which, of course, I find appealing.  It states that humans are created in the image and likeness of God, and then gives us dominion over everything.  In Genesis 1, God tells us to rule and subdue creation.  Reading Genesis 1, out of context, might allow us to conclude that God created the world just for us, for human use, and gave us permission to dominate and abuse it, to rule or Lord over it like sovereign dictators and tyrants.  And, given the condition of the planet today, and the rate at which plants and animals are going extinct, it seems that this is what we humans have done for the 2000 years since Jesus died and rose again.

But if we don’t stop at the end of Genesis 1, or even at Genesis 2 verse 3, but continue right on into the second, older creation story of Genesis 2, we get a quite different perspective.  We see God as a worker of clay.

In Genesis 2, we learn that humans were formed from the dirt.  In the Hebrew, the relationship between humankind and the soil is much more obvious.  The root of the words is the same.  God formed the adam from the adamah.  In English, we might demonstrate this by saying that we are earthlings formed from the earth, or humans formed from the humus.  Then God plants a garden in Eden and places the human into the garden to care for it.  The NRSV translates the verbs in verse 15 as tend and till, but another, equally valid (and preferable) translation is “to serve and preserve it.”  Compare this to rule and subdue.   Next God creates the land animals, also from the soil, brings them to life, presumably in the very same way, by giving them the breath of life, and offers them to the human as helpers, partners to assist the human in serving and preserving creation.  God invites the human to name them, to bond with them, to form a relationship, a partnership with each of them.  These creatures are not creatures to subdue or to enslave, but fellow creatures, neighbors in the garden—the garden that is a metaphor for the whole earth and all its plant and animal inhabitants.  This second creation story is trying to tell us that we are part of creation, not above it; that we are all connected and interdependent; that what is good for these creatures is good for us; that all of them have a niche to fill, and a role to play;  that they are all as important as we are, and that our ability to survive and thrive is dependent on our ability to serve and preserve the garden and all that live in it. 

Humans are not separate from creation, nor are we above creation.  We are stewards, caretakers, servants given the sacred task of preserving the garden and providing for all its inhabitants. 

Now consider the Gospel reading from John 1.  Everything that was created was created through Jesus, through the entire Triune God.  And what does Jesus teach us?  Jesus tells us that to be the greatest of all requires that we be servants to all.  It means loving our neighbors as much as we love ourselves, and even putting them first.  That includes our fellow creatures and the plants in the garden.  And in John 3:16-17, Jesus tells us that God so loved all of the cosmos, all of creation, so much that he sent Jesus to save it, all of it. Jesus told us to love others as he loves, to serve others as he served us. 

Being made in the image of God doesn’t mean we are different or better than the rest.  It doesn’t mean we are ontologically different or ontologically special.  It doesn’t mean we somehow look like God.  An image is a representation of something else.  Being created in the image and likeness of God means that we are supposed to rule on God’s behalf, to serve and preserve creation as God’s representatives on earth, to manage and maintain the earth according to God’s will and desire.  It means we have a special purpose—to serve and preserve the garden that is earth so that all creation may continue to thrive.  We are the earth-keepers, made from the earth for the purpose of serving and preserving the earth, keeping it healthy and fertile and habitable. 

But we failed because we didn’t interpret Genesis 1 in its full context.  We never considered that the older creation story of Genesis 2 might shed light on Genesis 1, and serve as a corrective for a newer, more mathematical, and more poetic story.  We didn’t consider how the Gospels might affect the way we interpret and understand the creation stories.  Genesis 2 was set aside as a story about the origin of marriage and replaced with Genesis 1, because it gave us Lordship over the planet. 

But now we know better.  What will you do with this new understanding?  Will you choose to embrace it, or discard it?  Will you share it with others?  Will you embrace the role of servant and protecter of the earth?  Will you let it transform you and the way you interact with nature, and change the impact you have on this earth? 

Sunday, April 14, 2024

See the Scars – Hear the Witness

Awe and wonder. Those words can’t even begin to describe how incredibly spine tingly awesome it was to watch the solar eclipse as the moon started to move across the face of the sun. As the moon progressed, it started to get cooler outside - I pulled on my sweatshirt even though I had been in shirtsleeves just moments before. As I and a group of witnesses watched and waited, wearing our safety glasses and peering through telescopes  - a community of sorts formed. Students from the local community college were taking advantage of the crowd to sell home-made cookies as a service project. Locals as well as folks from St. Louis, Chicago, Roseville and other places, traded stories and telescope views.  And then, as the sky got darker, we watched as the horizon –all 360 degrees -- started to turn the pink and orange colors of a sunset – even though the sun was still high in the sky. The birds began to sing their night song. The street lights came on. Our eyes were all glued to the sky as the sunlight began to fade and the moon moved to cover the sun. And then… at precisely 2:04 PM local time, a shout erupted as the moon covered the sun – except for the outside corona. People were on their feet cheering. I had tears in my eyes and my heart was full of praise of God.  It was wonder – FULL. We were witnesses of this beautiful event.

 Jesus could have made a spectacular reentry - with a robe of stars and the sun and moon tucked under each arm. He could have arranged to emerge from an eclipse. That would have been flashy. But instead… Jesus shows up and shows the disciples his scars.

That’s not all Jesus does. Jesus also eats a fish, proving to the disciples that he is not a ghost, does an amazing Bibles study that opens their minds to understand the scriptures, promises the gift of repentance and forgiveness of sins and then declares them to be witnesses.  There is a lot going on in this passage. But what caught my attention this time was that Jesus begins by showing his scars. Jesus doesn’t come back from the dead healed with perfect child-like skin as if he had been to a plastic surgeon. He doesn’t make a flashy entrance. Instead, he comes back and shows his disciples his scars.

Scars tell a story.  Jesus’ scars remind the disciples –and us -- that Jesus was really crucified, was really dead, was really put in a tomb.  The scars are still there. And yet… Jesus is alive. You are my witnesses.

I remember when my kids were little, we stayed overnight at a friend’s house on a New Year’s Eve. In the morning, all the kids went outside to go sledding. They were having a good time. I wasn’t worried at all. Until… one of the older kids rushed in and said, “Your son went over the embankment.” Aghast, I went to put my boots on. But before I could get out the door, in walked my son, his face was full of blood and bleeding profusely.  The other mom – a nurse by trade - gave me some towels and said, “You don’t know where the cut is, so start from the bottom up.”  So, I did. I started at his chin and began sopping up the blood. And as I worked my way up his face, not finding the cut, I found myself praying “thank you God…thank you God”… as I worked up past the lips and nose and then the eyes… I kept praying “thank you God”.  Finally, I reached the hairline… and there was a very small but deep gash. We did take a trip to the emergency room for stiches. It is now only a slight scar – which at times I can see if I look for it. When I see it, I’m reminded that I’m a witness of God’s healing hand.

Do you have a scar? Do you have a story? I do. I’m reminded about it every time I look at my knee. I remember that day I ran across the street without looking for traffic. I also remember, with gratitude, that while the scar is large, I received the gift of healing for my head and my leg and my life.  I’m a witness of God’s healing and God’s grace.

Scars can heal but there is always a story. In fact, I think that no one gets through this life without scars of one kind or another. Sometimes they are the result of what, in retrospect, seems like a stupid thing – like my neglecting to look both ways before crossing a street.  At other times, like my son, they are the result of an accident. No one was to blame.  And sometimes, like for Jesus, the scars tell the story of what someone did to you.  Those are the wounds that can be most painful.

We are a people scarred by life, but, regardless of the source of the pain and the scars, the good news is that Jesus can heal your wounds – regardless of what the wound may be. It’s not magic. It may take time. But Jesus is more than able to heal our wounds.

One of the ways that Jesus heals us is, as he says in today’s Gospel, through repentance and the forgiveness of sins. This is especially true for the wounds that you have received – and inflicted on others  -- by the things that you have done and for the good and right things you have not done. For all of these hurts, Jesus offers repentance and forgiveness. This is Christ’s free gift for you.

After we receive this gift of forgiveness, we are empowered and set free to forgive others who may have hurt us. This is not something that happens automatically or easily. But when we receive the gift of love and forgiveness, it opens our hearts and our lives to share that gift with others. 

Renewed by God’s gift of love and inspired we are able to be a witness to God’s love and then to act as Jesus’ hands and feet, caring for others and loving others, just as we have been loved.

Brothers and sisters, friends in Christ, who are forgiven, renewed and healed, Jesus calls you as a witness to proclaim God’s love and faithfulness. You are a witness of what God has done for you – and for the whole world.  And, because of YOUR witness, others can not only hear the Good News of Jesus but experience it too.  Thanks be to God!

 Faith-Lilac Way  +  April 14, 2024  + Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

Sunday, April 7, 2024

In today’s gospel, it’s still Easter Sunday, in the evening.  The disciples are all hiding out in a locked room, presumably the same room where they celebrated the Passover meal just a few nights ago, right before Jesus was betrayed, arrested and crucified.  Mary Magdalene had gone to the tomb early that morning, and found it empty, assumed that someone had stolen Jesus’ body, and run to this room in a panic, not knowing what to do.  Peter and the disciple Jesus loved ran back to the tomb with her, and confirmed that it was, indeed, empty.  His body was gone.  Then they went back to that locked room, possibly even more frightened now that Jesus’ body was missing.  The gospel tells us, parenthetically, that “the disciples still didn’t understand that Jesus had to rise from the dead.”

So, Peter and the disciple Jesus loved, both miss seeing the two angels, and Jesus, when he appears to Mary.   But Jesus sends Mary back to the disciples with a message—that he is ascending to God. 

So, why are the disciples still huddling in fear behind locked doors? Surely Mary delivered the message.  Didn’t they listen to Mary?  Didn’t they believe her?  Sadly, they probably didn’t.  In that patriarchal culture, women were not considered trustworthy witnesses.  Women were considered too emotional, too irrational.  And Mary had, only just come running to them, clearly upset, perhaps on the verge of hysterical, because the tomb had been robbed.  (Yes, tomb robbing was a thing, even back then.  And a more rational conclusion about a missing body than was the resurrection story.)  They may well have thought she was simply overcome with grief, maybe to the point of hallucination.  Just as in all the other gospel accounts, the disciples didn’t take Mary’s witness or her message any more seriously than the accounts of the other women who found the tomb empty, except for angels.

The disciples are laying low, because they fear they may be targeted next by the temple authorities, especially now that Jesus’ body has disappeared.  So, they are all hiding behind locked doors—all but Thomas.  We are given no explanation for Thomas’ absence.  The scripture just says that Thomas wasn’t with them.  Where was Thomas?  Had Peter and the gang gotten hungry and sent him out to pick up some Pizza?  Or was he escorting Mary Magdalene home, making sure the poor, hysterical woman got home safe?  Had he decided to go check out the empty tomb for himself, to look for the angels Mary claimed she had talked to, or to ask the cemetery caretaker if he knew anything?    Or had he been sent to do some spying around the temple or the synagogue and find out what people were saying about Jesus?  Did anybody else know his body was missing?  Were they whispering about conspiracy, saying the disciples moved the body?  Maybe he just needed to go for a walk in the fresh evening air and clear his head? 

We don’t know much about Thomas from the gospels, aside from his nickname, the Twin.  He’s pretty quiet.  But we know he is brave, and loyal.  When Jesus announces that he plans to go back to Judea because Lazarus is dead, the other disciples try to talk Jesus out of it, warning Jesus that he will surely be killed.  But Thomas says, “Let’s all go, so that we may die with him.” 

But now, perhaps because he is brave enough to leave that room, he isn’t there when Jesus shows up.  Everyone else is there.  Everyone else sees the wounds in his hands and his side.  Everyone else is given the Holy Spirit.  Everyone else is given the power to forgive sins.  But not brave, loyal Thomas.  Everyone else gets what they need in order to believe, but not Thomas. 

Everybody else says the resurrection is real, because they have seen Jesus for themselves.  But none of them believed a few hours ago, when Mary told them she saw and spoke to Jesus.  Put yourself in Thomas’ shoes.  Would you believe?  Or might you suspect that they’re playing a prank?  Might you wonder what is going on?  What has everybody been eating, or smoking?  Might you check to see how many empty wine flasks are lying around the place? 

Can you imagine the disappointment?  The injustice?  Didn’t Jesus know Thomas wanted, needed to see him too?  No one else believed until they saw Jesus with their own eyes, heard him speak with their own ears.  Is it fair to expect that Thomas would be able to believe without the benefit of a similar experience?  Personally, I sympathize with Thomas.  Honestly, I think we tend to judge Thomas unfairly.  Why should we expect Thomas to believe what the other disciples are now telling him, when they didn’t believe Mary, who told them the same things only a few hours earlier? 

Thomas insists he needs to have a Jesus experience just like the one the other disciples have had in order to believe.  Thomas has the courage to name what he needs in order to believe the impossible.  And Jesus hears him, and shows up for him, albeit, a week later.

Jesus shows up, shows Thomas his wounds, and tells Thomas to touch them with his own hands, which is astonishing, because he told Mary not to touch him.  The text does not say or even suggest that Thomas does touch him.  Just seeing is enough to draw from Thomas the most profound and accurate confession of faith in the gospel.  Thomas says, “My Lord and my God!”  Thomas recognizes that Jesus is God, incarnate in resurrected human flesh, not just the Messiah, or the Son of God.  No one else sees Jesus so clearly. 

Jesus tells Thomas not to doubt, but to have faith, to trust.  The text indicates he is addressing Thomas, but I would argue that he is addressing everyone in that room.  Because none of them believed until they saw with their own eyes.  But I need to clarify something here.  I want to share with you a quote from Craig Koester, one of the leading experts on this gospel.  “Doubt is not the opposite of faith.  Faith incorporates doubt.”  Let me say that again.  “Doubt is not the opposite of faith.  Faith incorporates doubt.”  The truth is, that faith is believing something that is uncertain, unlikely, some might even say, irrational or impossible.  Faith is a choice.  A decision to trust God no matter what, even when it makes you look or sound crazy; even when there is no evidence, no reasonable explanation, just because God is God, and for God, nothing is impossible. 

Doubt is not our enemy.  We all have doubts from time to time.  We all have questions, things in scripture that we wrestle with, struggle with, things that we wonder about.  That doesn’t mean our faith is weak or insufficient.  Faith is about trusting God, in the depths of our hearts, despite our fears and our questions and the reality that we don’t have all the answers and we don’t have facts, measurements or photographic evidence, no proof to back up our beliefs.  If we had no doubts, had no reason to doubt, then it wouldn’t really be faith.  It would be fact.  Doubts exist because, like the disciples, we live in a world that is cerebral, that demands logical thinking, a world that requires proof and scientific data and plausible explanations for everything.  But faith comes from the heart, not the head, and sometimes our hearts and our heads disagree.  It’s natural to doubt things we can’t understand much less see or touch.  But God is beyond understanding, so we trust with our hearts.  In my experience, questioning and wondering about the things that give me pause is healthy and serves to strengthen rather than weaken my faith and my Christian witness.  Having doubts does not mean we lack faith.  It means we long to know more, to be closer to Jesus, to know God more completely.

Thomas had profound faith, despite his doubts.  He had faith enough to trust God to show him what everyone else had seen.  Although we never hear anything more about Thomas in the scriptures, he’s not even mentioned in the book of Act, Thomas’s story doesn’t end here.  Thomas travels by ship to India, shares his faith and starts a church, one of the very first in existence, and it is still thriving today.  Despite all his doubts, Thomas was able to share and witness to his faith in a land with a very different culture and language, where Judaism was unknown, and convince others to believe along with him.  My friend Sinny, a doctor from India, traces her Christian faith all the way back to the Apostle Thomas.  Many believed without seeing, and were, therefore, blessed because of Thomas.  So maybe, being a Doubting Thomas isn’t such a bad thing. 

Easter Sunday, March 31, 2024

Go and Tell

Easter Sunday, March 31, 2024

 “The women fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.”  The end?  Is this the end?  Really?

 The Easter Gospel story that we most often read is from the Gospel of John. You know the story: Mary Magdalene discovers the open tomb and runs to tell the disciples. Peter and an unnamed disciple, probably John, race to the tomb, see the graveclothes and then go home, not knowing what to think. But Mary stays in the garden by the tomb crying. When Jesus asks her why she is weeping, she mistakes the risen Christ for a gardener. But when Jesus calls her by name, she recognizes him. Jesus then tells her to go to the disciples and share the good news. The Gospels of Matthew and Luke have slightly different accounts, but all of the Gospels report one or more interactions with the risen Jesus. Except Mark. The Gospel of Mark officially ends with an empty tomb, a man in a white robe and women who are so frightened that they won’t say anything to anyone.  

 I say officially, because scholars all agree that the last words that Mark wrote in his Gospel are the ones we read today. There are “alternative endings” that were likely provided by scribes who took it upon themselves to “fix” the problem of the ending - probably because they simply could not stand the non-ending of Mark’s gospel. But the style and the substance of these “endings” don’t fit with the rest of Mark’s writings and scholars agree that the alternative endings were simply borrowed from the other Gospels to make Mark’s ending feel more complete.  

 So, the question remains: why would Mark choose to end his Gospel with the words: “they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.”  It isn’t because Mark doesn’t believe. Mark begins the Gospel with a profound statement of faith: “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”  It’s a strong beginning – so why the odd ending?

 I heard a story the other day about a composer, Franz Liszt. He was a prolific composer–but he found he could not go to sleep until the musical piece that he was working on was just right. When at last he was done, he would fall asleep in the middle of the night or the wee hours of the morning and then sleep late, sometimes even into the afternoon. This drove his wife crazy. It was hard for her to run the house and manage the children and do her work when he was sleeping. She desperately wanted to find a way to help him work “normal hours” like everyone else.  But nothing seemed to help. They set alarms – he slept right through them. She let the children run through the house and play loud games – he was oblivious. She had them bang on the pipes - nothing seemed to disturb her husband’s sleep.

 One day as she was carrying a load of laundry through the living room, she noticed his piano with his latest completed composition was sitting on top of it. Suddenly, she had an idea. She set down her laundry and went over to the piano, sat down on the bench and began to play - loudly. She played and played until she was nearing the end… and then just before she got to the last note… she stopped.  She pushed the piano bench back and then innocently returned to doing her laundry. A few minutes later, Franz rushed in and went over to the piano, sat down on the piano bench and played the last note.

 After that, every morning, Franz’ wife would play one of her husband’s pieces all the way through – except for the last note 1 and that would wake her husband up enough to play that note – and to be on time for breakfast with the family.

 We can smile at Franz Liszt’s clever wife, but don’t we all crave resolution, completion, and to have the end of the story make sense?2 Personally I can’t stand it when a show that I am watching ends the season with a cliff-hanger. And I don’t think it is just me and composers. If you don’t believe me, try singing the first line of our opening hymn – but leaving off the last note. “Jesus Christ is Risen today, A a a a le a lu u”   Isn’t that frustrating? There is something in us that needs closure, that needs to resolve the last note.  

 And maybe Mark knew that. When you read a good book, and you come to the end of the story, you close the cover and put it on a shelf. It is done. But, like the composer who had to get up to play the last note of his song, Mark wants you to know that the story of Jesus is not done…

And unlike the composition … there are many more notes to play.

 Again, the first verse of Mark’s Gospel says: “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.”  Mark, our shortest Gospel, is not an all-inclusive story of the life of Jesus. Instead, Mark is telling us that this is just the beginning of the Good News of Jesus Christ, Son of God.1 The story isn’t over. It isn’t over after the resurrected Jesus meets Mary Magdalene and the disciples. And it isn’t over when Jesus ascends to heaven. And it isn’t over now. God’s story, the Good News Story of Jesus Christ is still active and is ongoing even today.

 I once heard the Gospel of Mark recited from beginning to end… and when the preacher got to the end of our Gospel for today, he turned to the crowd and said… ‘Who will tell the story?”

 The women at the tomb were afraid… but somebody talked. Somebody told the story… otherwise we wouldn’t be here. Just as the last note must be added to the song, so the story of Jesus, the story of God’s great love must be told – for it is God’s story. And it is GOOD News.

 Brothers and sisters, friends in Christ, like Paul, you are invited to help share the Good News of Jesus Christ with other people – just as it has been shared with you. For that’s how the story is shared… I heard the story from my grandmother who heard it from her father who heard it from his friend who heard it from… and so it is, as Paul passed the Good News on to the Corinthians and they passed it on to their children and to their neighbors, so we, with joy and gladness can tell the story of the Good News of Jesus Christ, God’s son and our Savior.  Maybe you tell it to your children or children’s children. Or maybe you invite a friend to an event at church.

 Who will tell the story? We can tell the story. Brothers and sisters, friends in Christ, another way you can tell the story is through singing God’s song. We just can’t sing Jesus Christ is Risen today without the full Alleluia. So - sing it with me:  Jesus Christ is Risen Today, Alleluia! Go and share the good news. Amen.

 Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran Church + Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

 Endnotes

 1https://asermonforeverysunday.com/sermons/c18-easter-sunday-year-c/ Amy Butler 2016

2 https://asermonforeverysunday.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/Jim-Somerville-Easter-4-4-2021.pdf

3 David Lose in the Meantime 2020 https://www.davidlose.net/2020/11/advent-2-b-beginnings/

Maundy Thursday, March 28, 2024

Maundy Thursday Reflections

Footwashing:

The church is supposed to be a counter-cultural community.  We are to live in the world, but not be of the world, which means we are to live differently, by a different set of values than the rest of the word, as part of the right side-up Kingdom of God in an upside-down world.  This is a difficult thing to do.  It requires commitment, not just to God, but to one another—a commitment of love and support and encouragement.  We are more than a community.  We are an extended family of God, a family in which we are all equals, all loved and valued, and all servants of one another. 

Washing each other’s hands (or feet) is a concrete and intimate act of humility and love meant to bind us together, to strengthen our sense of community and family, to create a sense of communal love and support that we need in order to be church.  It is a reminder that we are all washed clean in baptism, that we are all forgiven in Christ. 

This is how we care for each other, support each other, strengthen and sustain each other in doing God’s work and following in the footsteps of Jesus.  We serve one another in love, and in doing so, we are transformed by that act of love, so that we are able to serve God and our neighbors in the outside world with the same lovingkindness.  Above all, we do it because Jesus said we should do this for each other.

Holy Communion:

Communion is a community meal.  In this meal, we not only remember Jesus—we encounter Jesus.  He is our host, and our sustenance.   Jesus is present in the words we say, the same words he spoke two thousand years ago when he first hosted this meal.  He is physically present in, with and through the wine and the bread.  He is present as the Holy Spirit that strengthens and sustains us for service in the outside world.  It is through the grace of Jesus that we receive forgiveness and mercy at this table, just as he promised.

But this meal is also a counter-cultural experience.  Everyone is welcome at this table: young and old, male and female, rich and poor, sinner and saint, the powerful and the powerless, slave and free, the just and the unjust, the faithful and the betrayer.  At Christ’s table, we are all equals, and we are all treated exactly the same.  We all kneel, side by side, at one table.  We all receive the same portions from the same loaf of bread, the same bottle of wine.  We all receive the same gifts of grace, forgiveness and mercy.  We all receive the same blessing.  This meal is both a reminder and an example of the justice we are to strive to create in this world. 

Palm Sunday, March 24, 2024

Palm Sunday 2024                            Reflection on the Passion from Mark 14:12-15:47

They Chose Barabbas

Barabbas was a rebel, a Jewish nationalist, who took part in a violent revolt against the Roman government that resulted in the death of at least one Roman citizen-soldier.  He may, in fact, have been the leader of this rebellion.   Barabbas was not just any criminal, not just a thief or a murderer.  The Romans didn’t crucify the run of the mill criminals and bandits. Crucifixion was reserved primarily for political enemies of the state.  Barabbas was a Jewish militant who attempted a violent rebellion against the Roman government in Jerusalem.  He was guilty of treason and sedition, and therefore, sentenced to death by crucifixion, along with his cell mates. 

Interestingly, his name means “Son of the Father”, and the Gospel of Matthew indicates he was known as Jesus Barabbas.  Pilate is, in essence, asking the people to choose between two very different Jewish saviors, Jesus Barabbas, the son of the Father, and Jesus Christ, the descendant of King David and Son of the Living God.  And the people, who less than a week before had waved palm branches, welcoming Jesus with cheers of Hosannahs, now choose to save Barabbas, and allow God’s true Messiah to be put to death.  Why? 

According to Rabbi Gerald J. Blidstein, a Jewish theologian and scholar, in Jesus’ time “the Messiah was expected…to defeat the enemies of Israel...to be prophet, warrior, judge, king, and teacher of Torah.”[1]  Jesus is all those things, except one—Jesus is not a warrior…but Barabbas is.  And as a conquered and colonized people, a people who have been ruled and oppressed by successive empires for nearly 500 years, a people who long to be free to rule themselves once again, they want a military king with an army to defeat the Roman empire and take back possession of the promised land. 

Jesus is a pacifist.  Jesus has come to start a very different king of revolution, a revolution of love for friends and enemies, alike.  A revolution of love, grace and mercy that can transform whole societies by changing the way people live together and relate to one another, a way that transcends human politics and human difference, a way that creates the real possibility of justice and reconciliation and lasting peace between peoples, between nations, between long-standing enemies.  But the way of Jesus doesn’t bring about abrupt and sweeping change.  And the people were frustrated and impatient. They had been waiting for five centuries.  So, they chose the violence of Barabbas.

Sometimes we, too, choose Barabbas, probably more often than we realize, or want to admit.   when we give in to anger, hate, prejudice, or fear.  When we feel persecuted, exploited, minimalized, or marginalized, held down or held back unfairly, we choose Barabbas.  We choose Barabbas when we want immediate results.  We choose Barabbas whenever we resort to violent words or actions or seek to damage another’s status or reputation; whenever we refuse to forgive or to be reconciled; whenever we seek retribution or vengeance, whenever we put our selfish desires ahead of our neighbor’s best interests.  Whenever we choose to benefit from someone else’s loss or suffering, we choose Barabbas.  Whenever we coerce, bully or shame someone else to get our way, we choose Barrabus. 

But the good news, my friends, is that even though we often fail to make the right choice, we are still loved, saved and forgiven by the grace of Jesus Christ.  There is always grace and forgiveness in the wine and the bread, and there is always grace enough in the waters of our baptism to wash us clean again.  Every day we get to start over with a fresh, clean slate, with new opportunities to choose again between Barabbas and Jesus.  And hopefully, we make the right choice, choosing Jesus—choosing love and compassion, forgiveness and mercy, more often every day.  Because that’s the only way that Christ’s revolution of love has a chance to spread and transform the whole world.  Only love can usher in the Kingdom of God.

[1] “Messiah.” Accessed March 19, 2024. https://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/messiah.

Sunday, March 17, 2024

We want to see Jesus.

We want to see Jesus. There is nothing wrong with that request. Those words are written on many pulpits – not the one at Faith-Lilac Way. But on many pulpits these words, “We want to see Jesus” are placed where only the eyes of the preacher can see them as a reminder that our task as preachers is to point to Jesus, to show Jesus. For this is our desire too.  We want to see Jesus.

 In our Gospel lesson the request came from some Greeks who were in town for a Jewish festival. We don’t know what they heard about Jesus, but clearly news has spread of this amazing rabbi who heals the sick and the lame and raised the dead back to life. It might be that they are just curious about the newest celebrity in town who could turn water into wine. But since they had travelled to this festival, it may be that they were faithful seekers, those who had studied Jeremiah and who sought the one who would inscribe God’s law on their heart and give them the courage – the heart – to follow God’s way.  

 We don’t know their motives but we do know that the Greeks are polite – they follow social protocol. They search out Philip – whose name is Greek and may have spoken their language -and say: We want to see Jesus.  This is exactly what the Pharisees had been worried about. In the verse just prior to our Gospel, the Pharisees express fear that the whole world will be coming to Jesus. And here they are, asking for Jesus.

 Again, there’s nothing wrong with that request.  In the beginning of the Gospel, when Nathaniel asks Philip who is this Jesus, Philip replies, “Come and see.” This is also that Jesus tells them when they ask where he is staying. “Come and see.”

 But this time, when asked for an audience, Jesus answers with a story about a seed.  You may remember the parable of the seed that is found in the Gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke. In those Gospels, the seed is scattered with reckless abandon and, when it finds good soil, it produces an amazing abundance of fruit.  Jesus tells a different story about a seed in the Gospel of John.

 Seeds are quite amazing things. When asked about how it works, Len Morrow, a biology professor explained that a seed could be dormant for a long time, but “with the right conditions, it comes to life… by giving of itself for the sake of the roots that go down (the professor points to his feet) and the stalk goes up and branches out– (the professor puts up his hands) and the result is something that looks rather like a person.”1 When Jesus, in the Gospel of John speaks of himself as the seed which must die and be buried in order to produce good fruit, this is the image that he wants us to see. Jesus is the seed who is buried, dies, rises and bears much fruit.

 If you plant a tomato seed, what do you expect will grow? A tomato plant, right? And give you tomatoes? But if you were to plant a kernel of corn, you would assume you would get a corn stalk, right?

 In the same way, just as the seed nourishes the plant, so Jesus, by his death and resurrection and ascension, nourishes the fruit – the people of God – the church and all of you in it. You all are the fruit of Jesus – and, as a result, you and I and all the rest of us should look like, act like and be like Jesus.

 It makes sense that Jesus, living in an agrarian society, would use seeds, a well-known image from ordinary life, to help people understand. And I can imagine the crowd nodding. They know what happens when they plant a seed – just as you do.  But then Jesus says, “Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.”  

 Are the Greeks still listening? Do they still want to see Jesus? It’s one thing for Jesus to talk about himself as a seed – but now it’s getting personal. Does Jesus really want us to hate our life? And what does that mean anyway?

 In the 1930s after the Nazification of the universities in Germany, and in the midst of the church struggle in their response to the Nazi regime, Dietrich Bonhoeffer published his book, The Cost of Discipleship. In it, Bonhoeffer writes that when Christ calls us, he calls each one of us to “come and die.” He explains, “It may be a death like that of the first disciples who had to leave home and work to follow Him, or it may be a death like Luther’s, who had to leave the monastery and go out into the world.” 2 In theological language, this call to come and die is a call to die to sin. In ordinary language it means putting Jesus and the way of Jesus first in our life and asking the Holy Spirit to guide us on the way. 

 However, another professor cautioned, “Losing one’s life for the gospel is not a call for meaningless sacrifice or abuse.”3  You and I are not called to be the savior of the world. We already have a Savior – His name is Jesus. What we are called to do is follow.

 As Jesus says,  “Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there will my servant be also.”  And this is something that we can do.

Following Jesus is not a spectator sport. Following Jesus means lending a hand, praying a prayer, delivering a meal to someone who is ill, spending time with those who are lonely.

 A friend of mine is currently providing palliative care for her mother in her home. On the one hand, it is a costly endeavor. She is missing work. She is putting all of her “normal” activities aside and focusing, for this time, on the needs of her mother. This is not the way of the world. But, she would not miss this time for the world. She is giving her whole attention to her dying mother – and being blessed in the process. This can be an exhausting, challenging and heart-wrenching time and it is not subject to our schedule. But, as I can say from experience and I know many of you can too, this is also a holy time. For Jesus Christ is present. These are the times that you can see Christ at work.

 But it is not the only time. Whenever you take time for another, give of yourself and share with another person who is in need, you are being like Christ. This is where you can see Jesus.

 Brothers and sisters, friends in Christ, open your eyes to see Jesus – for Jesus is present in our midst. Open your hearts and your hands and your lives to be like Jesus – and you will be blessed. Thanks be to God. Amen.  

 Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran Church + March 17, 2024 Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

 1Dr. Len Morrow, quoted by Rev. Jim Somerville, https://asermonforeverysunday.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/03/The-Death-of-a-Seed.pdf

 2 –Dietrich Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship (London: SCM Press, 1948/2001), 44.

3 Dong Hyeon Jeong Working Preacher: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/fifth-sunday-in-lent-2/commentary-on-john-1220-33-6

Sunday, March 10, 2024

Choose Love.

March 10, 2024   +          Faith-Lilac Way  +          Pastor Pamela Stalheim Lane

A young woman walked into a fabric shop, went to the counter and asked the owner for some noisy, rustling material. The owner found two such bolts of fabric but was rather puzzled at the young lady’s motives. Why would anyone want several yards of noisy material? Finally, the owner’s curiosity got the best of him and he asked the young lady why she particularly wanted noisy cloth.

She answered, “I am making a wedding gown and my fiancé is blind. When I walk down the aisle, I want him to know when I’ve arrived at the altar so he won’t be embarrassed.” 1

That’s love. Most brides-to-be look for a wedding gown that will make them look fabulous as they walk down the aisle. At this point in the ceremony - all eyes are on the bride. But this bride, in choosing to make a noisy dress, wanted all EARS to be on her – especially the ears of her future husband and so she found a way to include him. Love includes – it never excludes.

Our Gospel is about love; God’s love for the whole world. The Greek word for world is cosmos. God loves the whole cosmos. When I hear “cosmos”, my image of the world explodes to be so much bigger than I had imagined before.  God’s love is so much bigger than ours and God’s love includes the whole world, the whole cosmos.

These words also inspired a black leader, Mary MacLeod Bethune (1875-1955) who grew up in the Jim Crow South. She wrote,

“With these words the scales fell from my eyes and the light came flooding in. My sense of inferiority, my fear of handicaps, dropped away. “Whosoever,” it said. No Jew nor Gentile, no Catholic nor Protestant, no black nor white; just “whosoever.” It means that I, a humble Negro girl, had just as much chance as anybody in the sight and love of God.
These words stored up a battery of faith and confidence and determination in my heart, which has not failed me to this day.2

God sent his only begotten son, Jesus, into our world, to our planet, to walk the dusty roads of Judea out of God’s great love for us – all of us – to save us. Jesus came not to condemn but to save. That’s love. That’s God’s love, a love that includes Every Body.

In a time in which there are so many divisions in our world, and at a time in which the political atmosphere has gotten especially mean-spirited, it is important for us as Christians to remember that God loves – the whole world, the cosmos. And, as one faith leader wrote, “If God didn’t send Jesus to condemn the world, then we aren’t called to condemn the world either.”3  Or our neighbor. Or the one who votes differently than you do. Or the one who looks differently from you.

Because of God’s great love, God sent Jesus to love and to save you and me and the people down the street and across the world. God also gave you and me and our neighbors down the street and across the world the freedom to choose how you will respond to the love of God. You can respond in love for God and for neighbor. Or… you can turn away.

To help him – and us – understand, Jesus points Nicodemus to a story in the book of Numbers about the Israelites wandering in the desert after their exodus from Egypt and before they get to the promised land. It is one of the many stories in which the people of God grow tired and weary of the journey, tired of Moses and tired of following God. So, they turned away from God.

Now this is not the way that I think of God as acting, but the scripture says the Lord sent poisonous snakes on the people. I guess he wanted to get their attention. And he did. Because the people turned back and begged Moses to pray to God to save them. In the past, when the people got impatient at the lack of food or water and they complained to Moses, God responded by sending manna and quails for them to eat and telling Moses to strike a rock to get water. But this time, instead of just getting rid of the snakes or taking away the venom, God tells Moses to make a snake – the same kind of a snake that was killing them – and ask the people to look up at the snake and be healed.

Look up and live!  The task was not hard.  But some refused. They did not want to look up at a snake, the embodiment of death and destruction, an image of the one who had killed their loved ones. Some may have said, with conviction, that they would rather die than look to a snake for healing… And so they did. It was their choice. God loved them so much he sent a serpent to save them…and some looked up. Others looked away… and they died.

I wonder if by asking the people in the wilderness to simply “look up,” God wants to be more than a fix-it God who people call in times of trouble. Instead, God, then and now, God wants a relationship with you and you and you and all people.  And, as our response, Jesus tells us to love one another as he loves us.

But… God is not going to force you. God gives you freedom on how you respond. Meanwhile, the Holy Spirit is whispering, “Choose LOVE. Choose life-giving love. Choose Christ’s way.

And yet, God lets us make choices. You can decide that you don’t need to be saved and that you don’t need anyone’s help, that you know best. Unfortunately for us, we then have to live with those choices.

Philip was a little child when his father died and he never really knew the story of what happened – until one day when he was up in the family attic looking at old pictures with his fiancé. They ran across an old newspaper clipping that told the story. Apparently, his parents had planned to be missionaries but just before they were to leave, his father got sick and was hospitalized. His father was a man of faith – but he was so sure that God would heal him. After all, he was giving his whole life to God as a missionary. Surely if he had God, he did not need any doctors.  So, he checked himself out of the hospital. He died two weeks later.  That was a costly decision. Somehow, he didn’t realize those doctors were the hands of God for him.

The good news is that God keeps loving us and inviting us to look up and live – even when we make choices that are harmful to ourselves or to others or to the environment or to our world. God has not changed God’s message: For God so loved the Cosmos – the whole world that God created – that God GAVE His Son so that ALL may come to believe in him.

God’s hand stretches beyond time and space – and God is still holding out God’s hand and saying to each one of you: come and be with me.  God is not saying: “if you say these words and fulfill the requirements on the syllibus then I will love you; then I will save you.” Instead, God says, “I love you. I will always love you… and I will always love the one you call “other.”

It’s hard. Because God calls us to love George Floyd AND the former police officer Derek Chauven who leaned on George’s neck until he died. We want to choose sides. But God doesn’t. God simply loves the whole Cosmos – both those who love him and those who do not. Brothers and sisters in Christ, let us choose love. Amen.

1The Remedy: Look, Lift Up, and Live  The Rev. Dr. William E. Flippin, Jr.   https://day1.org/weekly-broadcast/65d5dcc16615fb2e210000ec/the-remedy-look-lift-up-and-live

2 Quote within the Working Preacher commentary by Alicia Vargas for March 10, 2024.

3From: Dr. Lisa Hancock, Director of Worship Arts Ministries, https://www.umcdiscipleship.org/worship-planning/depths-of-love/fourth-sunday-in-lent-year-b-lectionary-planning-notes?mc_cid=6f7be18551&mc_eid=a3937aa764

Sunday, March 3, 2024

Sermon:  Where God Chooses to Dwell

The 2nd and last Jewish temple in Jerusalem was destroyed in the year 70 CE, 40 years, or approximately one generation, after the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus, in response to a Jewish revolt against the Roman empire.  The destruction of the temple created an existential crisis for the Jewish people.  The temple was the center of their faith, the locus of their religious practices, and the most important location for the Jewish people as a whole.  You see, the temple was more than a building.  It was the one and only place where sacrifices could be offered, the only place where the people could make offerings of thanksgiving and sacrifices for sin. Therefore, it was the only place where the Jewish people could appease God’s wrath and earn forgiveness and be made right with God.  Until the destruction of the temple, the Jewish faith relied on the daily sacrifices to God made by the priests on behalf of the people. 

And why?  Why could these sacred rituals only be practiced in the temple?  Because the temple was understood to be God’s dwelling place—the place where God had chosen to reside among God’s people—more precisely, in the innermost sanctum of the temple, known as the Holy of Holies.  In one terrible act of Roman retribution, the people of Israel lost their most sacred building, the residence in which God had promised to dwell among them.

So, the question on every Jew’s mind, and every Jew’s lips was, “Where is God now?  Where and how do we worship God, now that the temple is no more?”  According to my preaching professor, Dr. Lewis, the Gospels (and the Book of Acts) were all written with this question in mind—"Where is God, if not in the Jerusalem temple?”—and they were intended, in whole or in part, as a response to that question for the followers of Jesus, both then and today.

However, the God of Israel, who is also the God of Christianity, the one and only Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer of the cosmos, did not always reside in a temple, nor was God, the creator of all that was, is now and ever shall be, tied to a particular building or geographic location.  But the people of Israel seem to have become accustomed to the idea that God stayed in one place.  Had they forgotten that God went into Egypt with Moses to rescue them from slavery in Egypt?  Had they forgotten that God had led them out of Egypt in/as a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of cloud by night?  Upon receiving the 10 Commandments at Sinai, they constructed a tabernacle, as a transportable temple where God would come and hold audience with Moses.  And then they built the Ark of the Covenant, and constructed it with the cherubim on its lid known as the Mercy Seat, the throne upon which God would meet the people and travel with them as they wandered for 40 years in the desert. In this way, they believed God could even be carried into battle with them in the Promised Land. 

When David wanted to construct house for God, a permanent temple that could not move or be transported from place to place, God said “No.”  But God eventually allowed David’s son, Solomon, to construct a lavish temple.  Solomon understood that God could not dwell solely there, because God cannot be contained.  In 2 Chron 2:6, Solomon asks,

“But who is able to build [God] a house, since heaven, even highest heaven, cannot contain him? Who am I to build a house for [God], except as a place to make offerings before him?”

 The temple Solomon built was to be a house, not for God, but for God’s name, and a place to keep the Ark of the Covenant.  It was a place for the Israelites to worship, to offer sacrifice and prayers.  It was a place where the people could stand in the sight of God, and where God could, if God so chose, meet them upon the Mercy Seat on the Ark.  When Solomon had finished the temple and made offerings there, he prayed that God would always keep watch over the people of Israel, listen to their prayers and grant them forgiveness, then God appeared to Solomon. 

“The LORD said to him, “I have heard your prayer and your plea, which you made before me; I have consecrated this house that you have built, and put my name there forever; my eyes and my heart will be there for all time.” (1 Kings 9:3)

But this, first temple, was destroyed by the Babylonians in 586 BCE and the Ark of the Covenant was also lost or destroyed, and the people of Israel were taken into exile in Babylon.   However, according to the prophet Ezekiel, God did not remain in the Temple or its ruins, nor did God abandon Israel.  Ezekiel had a vision of God seated on a gigantic, throne-like, wheeled contraption that moved through the air under the power of angels, by which God left the temple and went along with God’s exiled people into Babylon, even as the temple was being destroyed.  God remained there, in Babylon with them, until they were released from exile to return and build a new temple, under the guidance of the Persian empire in 536 BCE.  Upon returning from exile, Ezekiel had another vision of God in this wheeled, angel powered throne returning to Israel and take up residence in the new temple, which was completed around 516 BCE.  This vision was meant, as was the first, to comfort the people by assuring them that God was still with them, and would not abandon them.

But somehow, in the 5 centuries that followed, the people of Israel had become accustomed to thinking of the temple, of the Holy of Holies at the center of the temple, as the place where God actually resided, at all times.  So, who were they now?  Where was God, now that the temple was gone?

According to the Gospels, God was present in the person of Jesus, incarnate in the very flesh and blood and bone of Jesus.  God confirms this in the accounts of Jesus’ baptism.  But that’s not the whole story.  The scriptures make it abundantly clear that God loves human beings, and desires a personal relationship with each and every one of us.  I think God designed us specifically for relationship, with each other, with the rest of creation, and most importantly, for relationship with God.  We long for God.  We need God.  Sometimes I think, maybe there really is a God-shaped hole in each of us that can only be filled by the Holy Spirit.  I truly believe that this was the plan all along.  In a way, Jesus was the perfect prototype—the perfect Temple in which God was pleased to dwell.

The truth is, God is now present in us, in all the people that make up the world-wide church.  In baptism, the Holy Spirit takes up residence within each of us.  God has chosen to dwell, not within structures of wood or stone or brick and mortar, but within flawed and fragile temples of human flesh and bone.  God loves human beings and wants so much to be in relationship with us, that God has decided to take up residence, not just with or alongside us, but within us—to have the most intimate relationship possible with each one of us. 

God is the source of strength and resilience within us.  Dwelling within us gives God direct access to our hearts, on which God promised to engrave God’s laws of love, so that we can more easily follow them, and recognize them as ways of demonstrating love for one another.  Having the Holy Spirit dwelling within us increases the likelihood that we can be altered, refurbished, transformed into better versions of ourselves—especially if we give God permission to remodel our hearts and minds, to rearrange our priorities, to enlarge our hearts and create more room for us to grow and expand our capacity to love and forgive, to increase our generosity, to broaden our narrow ways of thinking and being, to improve our ability to welcome and honor diversity, to open us up to the limitless possibilities that exist when we allow God to take the helm and guide us through this life and into the next.

But lest we start thinking that only we Christians have been chosen to serve as habitats for the Divine Presence, we must remember that the book of Acts makes it clear that the Holy Spirit is perfectly capable of entering into people who have not received a Christian baptism through water and the word.  The Holy Spirit is free to move in and take up residence in anyone, anywhere, at any time.  In Acts 10, the Holy Spirit enters a Gentile in the Roman army along with all his family and friends, after which Peter decides they should all be baptized with water, because it was clear that God had already baptized them with the Holy Spirit, just exactly as God had baptized the Apostles at Pentecost.

God desires to dwell in and among all people, everywhere, because God creates us all, loves us all, and desires to transform and empower us all for the sake of all creation.  In other words, God inhabits us in order to rehabilitate us, one by one, so that all of creation can be redeemed, restored, revived and renewed as well.  This is good news!  God didn’t abandon Israel when the temple was destroyed.  God never abandons God’s children, not even when we abandon God.  On the contrary, God took this opportunity to dwell with them—and everyone else—just in a much more personal and intimate way—a way they never expected, and weren’t prepared to recognize or understand.  God took this opportunity to expand God’s reach beyond the confines of the temple, beyond the boundaries of Israel, beyond all imagination, to include all of human kind, in order to personally re-image and reinstate us all, so that we can fulfill our intended purpose.  I can’t think of any better news than this.  Can you?

Sunday, February 25, 2024

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

When Peter and the disciples heard those words, they were shocked and dismayed. A cross was a symbol of death and the power of the Roman empire to subjugate the people, especially people who dared to disagree. The people wanted a Savior to bring peace, stop the terrors of the occupying forces and bring God’s kingdom to earth. So when Jesus came miraculously healing those who were hurting with both God’s word and with fish and bread; fed those who were hungry and proclaimed God’s word with authority, not bowing to Empire, Peter caught the vision. And, when he proclaimed Jesus is the Messiah, the Savior, the Son of God, Jesus acknowledged this insight as sent from God. It is no wonder that Peter assumed that the one who had authority over demons and chaos should not have to suffer and die. But this is where Jesus stops him with a cold and hard rebuke.

Jesus did not come to earth to use his power to for his own glory – or those. Instead, Jesus wants his followers to understand: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”

Jesus’ words no longer shock us in the way they shocked and dismayed Peter and the other disciples. We have heard them before; and, we live on the other side of Easter. The empty cross is now the symbol of Christ’s death AND resurrection.  And so, Jesus’ invitation to deny our ego-self and take up our cross is an invitation to put on Christ as a reminder of who we are and whose we are and who we are called to follow.  

While it is not as dangerous to be a follower of Jesus as it was for the disciples, it also is not as “normative” as it once was either. Schools never used to schedule events on Wednesday nights and blue laws were in effect not only for schools but also businesses so on Sundays, nothing was scheduled. But now, Sundays and Wednesday nights no longer “belong” to the church.  

But, being a practicing Christian isn’t without cost today. Maybe you will have to talk with personnel if you want to go to Holy Week services.  Maybe your kids won’t make the baseball team if they don’t participate in the Sunday morning baseball games and I’m told that ice time on Sunday mornings is practically sacred for hockey practices. Another result of the secularization of society is that people don’t know – and so assume – that we as Lutherans are the same as the more vocal non-denominational Christians. For us, it is becoming more and more important to be able to say what it means that you follow Jesus.  

Denying yourself, picking up your cross – or rather putting on the cross of Christ – and following Jesus means putting Jesus first in your life. When we put Jesus first, then we get our priorities straight.

Following Jesus, putting Jesus first in your life will affect the decisions that you make about how you spend your time, your money, your energy and your life.

Years ago, a theologian wrote, “We think giving our all to the Lord is like taking a $1,000 bill and laying it on the table – “Here’s my life, Lord. I’m giving it all.” But the reality for most of us is that [God]he sends us to the bank and has us cash in the $1000 dollars for quarters. We go through life putting out 25 cents here and 50 cents there… Usually giving our life to Christ isn’t glorious. It’s done in all those little acts of love, 25 cents at a time.”

I think inflation has gone up since he wrote that piece – but you get the idea.

When I think about what it means to deny oneself, put on the cross of Christ and follow, I think of the many acts of love that I have witnessed. They are priceless. For example…

When I visited Carolyn Lageson, I asked her where she saw God at work in her apartment building. She was eager to tell about her friend Ben who shared his beautiful voice and her friend Jane who played the piano so that their senior apartment building could host a “proper” worship service each week. She also told me about the woman who changed her dining room table (apparently it’s a “thing” where you sit – reminds me of junior high). This woman changed her seating assignment so that she could help a woman with Parkinsons be able to eat. That sounds like putting on the cross of Christ to me.

But then I said to Carolyn, these people sound lovely, but what about you? I have noticed that you are always the one to reach out to someone who is new or is in need. You have the gift of noticing others and their gifts and helping them to feel welcome, needed and important. She blushed and tried to change the subject.  I know she’s humble but I think it is important to acknowledge that when you use the gifts that God has given you to help your neighbor, you are serving Christ.

There are many ways that I see members of our church and our church community putting on the cross of Christ to care for their neighbor. Last year one member and his wife shoveled the walks every time it snowed – which was a lot! We were grateful - and recognized that we could put a team together so that the work and joy of serving in this way could be shared.

Caring for the neighbor can be fun! Our women’s W/ELCA group is rediscovering this as they invite the women of our congregation and the Wildfire churches to gather together for community and service projects. Already we have found that some have the gift of making beautiful cards and making it easy for even the least arts and crafty of us (me) to make something beautiful. This group also has the gift of hospitality and so everyone – regardless of ability – can feel that they belong.

Of course, the blessings and the challenges of putting on Christ extend beyond our congregation and community. Lutheran Campus Ministry works to help students connect their stories with God’s story. They shared this testimony by U of M Senior Shelby Erickson:  “Almost all my classes are centered on climate change in some way. I learn about the many issues the world is facing and will hopefully help solve one day, but also, it can be draining as I am constantly bombarded with the idea that: 1) there are many different facets to climate change and 2) there is too much to overcome, and we can’t fix it.” She goes on to say, “It can be easy to fall into the pit of despair of life, with the constant bombardment of information that we have readily accessible — we as humans were not meant to experience this much pain in a single day.” But when that happens, she says, “Then I look for something new. Or something old that helps remind me of who I am, whose I am, and why I am here.”

It's that a great reminder? In those times when we start to despair, you and I, like Shelby, can look for reminders of: “Who you are, whose you are and why you are here.” For, like Shelby, you are a beloved child of God who belongs to Christ and is called to put on the cross of Christ and follow in the way of Jesus Christ. 

This isn’t always easy. But we can take comfort in recognizing that we are not facing this challenge alone. We are a community in Christ and together we can pray and sing for Jesus to walk with us on this journey. To close, I’d like to invite you to pray with me a prayer written by Pastor and Poet Steve Garnaas-Holmes.
God, give me heart to hold the trembling hand
     of one who is in pain, to sit with their pain, to hold their trembling.
Give me faith to stand in the wound of the world
     and hold the edges, be the healing bond.
Give me courage to risk the stones, standing 
     with one who's being stoned by hate and fear. 
Give me love to forgive the one who's caused me pain
       whose pain was too great to bear alone.
Give me spirit to give myself to healing, though it hurt,
        to blessing, though it cost.
Christ be in me to suffer for the sake of love, knowing that any cross I bear is yours; carry all the weight, and labor by my side.2  Amen.

February 25, 2024  +  Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran Church + Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

1Fred Craddock, cited in Leadership (Fall 1984) 45

2Steve Garnaas-Holmes, Unfolding Light www.unfoldinglight.net