Sunday, May 18, 2025

Gems of Beauty

Are you a rock picker? Walking along the shore of a river, lake or ocean, do you find yourself picking up a sparkling rock, an interesting shell or a piece of drift wood?  I do – and so do other members of my family. When our boys were little, I had to put a limit on the number of rocks they could bring home – a catch and release rule – even though they argued that each rock was as precious as a gem stone. If you visited our home, you would find that when we moved, we could not part from many of these beloved rocks and shells.

 What is precious to you? What do you hold onto?

 Science fiction writer Ray Bradbury loved books. Living during WWII when Hitler was burning books, Bradbury penned a science fiction story in which all books were being banned and burned. In order to preserve these books, a group of renegade book lovers memorized their favorite book. One chose the Gospel of Mark, another the Gospel of John, another chose the Odyssey & the Iliad. A book lover myself, I pondered which book would I memorize?  Would it be the Gospel of Luke? Or Romans? A teenager when I first read this book, this prospect seemed daunting …maybe I would choose something shorter like one of Paul’s letters or 1st John. It’s only a couple of pages long.

 Martin Luther chose the Psalms. As a monk, Luther learned the Psalms by heart and they became a bedrock for his faith. In his preface to the Psalms, Luther writes, “The human heart is like a ship on a stormy sea driven about by winds blowing from all four corners of heaven. The Book of Psalms is full of heartfelt utterances made during storms of this kind.”

 This is certainly reflected in the Psalms chosen for today. And while we may not be able or choose to memorize the whole book of Psalms, there are some verses here that are as bright as gems – and are worth picking up and holding in your hand and in your heart.

 Some of the Psalms speak in the first person – and so when you are filled with despair and hopelessness, I urge you to recall this verse from Psalm 121: “I lift up my eyes to the hills – from where will my help come?” The response is swift: “My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.”

 Other Psalms are for the community. When we are buffeted by storms of any kind, remember these words from Psalm 46, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” And God’s response to our flailing around, “Be still, and know that I am God.”

 The Psalms were the prayerbook of Jesus and can be your prayer book too. When your heart feels like it is a ship on a stormy sea, you can join the Psalmist in expressing your anger, frustration or fear and then… keep reading until you hear God’s response of hope, protection and assurance that you can trust in God. And, when your heart is full of gratitude and your boat is in peaceful waters, you can find in the Psalms inspiring words of hope, gratitude, praise and adoration. 

 May you find in the Psalms gems of beauty that sparkle with wisdom, hope and the promises of God. As the Psalmist writes: “The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.”  Thanks be to God. Amen.

 1Martin Luther,  Preface to the Psalter.

May 18, 2025 + Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran + Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

Sunday, May 11, 2025

Jesus, Lamb of God; Jesus our Good Shepherd

 Jesus said, “My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me.”  Calling himself a Shepherd and his followers sheep would have been a familiar metaphor for his listeners.  Sheep thrived on the tufts of grass on the hills of Judea – where other things couldn’t grow -- and they needed shepherds to watch them. David was a shepherd before he became King of Israel and learned a few lessons about what it meant to care for the vulnerable as he sat with his slingshot, keeping an eye out for predators. When he became King, he like other rulers was called to “shepherd,” to care, for his people like a good shepherd cares for his sheep. The Psalmist uses the image of a Shepherd for God in the 23rd Psalm, as the Psalmist and we proclaim, “the Lord is my Shepherd.”

 So, it is not surprising that we find sheep and shepherd imagery in the Revelation to John. 

Revelation is a book that many – including me – often avoided because it has been mis-used over the years. But when a woman begged me to do a Bible study on Revelation because she was plagued by some of the things that she had heard and read – like the “Left Behind” series and wanted to know what the Bible really said, I relented. I’m glad I did and I want to share a few highlights of what I learned – especially as reflected in our passage today.

 First a little background: The Revelation to John is a letter written by John (because of the date of the letter this is probably not the disciple John). He is on the isle of Patmos during the height of the Roman empire – he may have been exiled there because of his faith. We don’t know any more details but we do know he had an apocalyptic vision and shares it with seven churches. John was concerned about these churches. Some of the churches dared to live out their faith publicly, proclaiming “Jesus is Lord” in the midst of an empire that proclaimed “Caesar is Lord.” The people in these churches were struggling economically and were in danger of persecution. But other churches quietly worshiped on Sunday and then accommodated the empire on the rest of the week – they didn’t make waves and were rewarded for it. John’s letter offers a word of comfort to those who are suffering for their faith and a word of challenge to those who “going along.” He encourages both to follow the Good Shepherd and not the empire. So, everything in this letter – which is a vision – is a word to these churches and to each of us as we make choices about who we will follow -- the Good Shepherd or the Empire of our day.

Our text for today begins with what John sees: “there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages.”  This is in addition to the 144,000 that he’s talked about in the last chapter. The number has swelled – and it includes people from every nation, every tribe, every language and culture. There is a great diversity. John can’t count the number. And what are they doing? They are having church! They are waving Palm branches like we do on Palm Sunday.  They are worshipping the Lamb of God and they are singing. “Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen.”  Ever wonder where the lyrics for our hymns and worship music comes from? More come from or were inspired by the book of Revelation than any other book of the Bible.

 But then John gets asked a question: Who are these, robed in white, and where have they come from?”  John wisely responds: “Sir, you are the one who knows.” Then he said to me, “These are they who have come out of the great ordeal.”

 This is a message to the members of the churches who have suffered for their faith. Their faith has not been in vain. But as with other things referenced in Revelation “the great ordeal” is not limited to one event in time or space. People of all generations experience challenges to living out their faith honestly and authentically. There is always the temptation to get comfortable or complacent. The encouragement of Revelation is to dare to follow Jesus. 

The elder goes on to say: “they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.”

There are many paradoxes in the book of Revelation. Anyone who has done laundry knows that blood is really hard to get out of clothing and, if you want something white, you wash it with bleach – not blood. But this is the paradox - their hearts and souls – as well as their robes are being cleansed by the blood of Jesus, the lamb of God.  They were washed, cleansed, made new and whole by what seems as if it should stain them.

 The final paradox of this section is that Jesus is referred to as the lamb of God – and the shepherd. Just as there are many Biblical references for the role of shepherds, there are also Biblical references to lambs. God gave Abraham a lamb to sacrifice instead of his son Isaac. God told Moses to put the blood of the lamb on their doorposts to avoid the plague of the angel of death. Lambs had been used for sacrifice throughout the Old Testament. But while prophets had proclaimed the coming of one who would be a sacrificial lamb, it is in the first chapter of the Gospel of John that Jesus is proclaimed as, “the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!” This is who John of Patmos is proclaiming in the the Book of Revelation and who we proclaim Jesus to be at every communion service as we sing the Lamb of God.

 But Jesus is also called “the Good Shepherd” – both in the Gospel of John and here. Here is the paradox: Just as Jesus, son of God, took on flesh so that he could be one of us and die for us; Jesus is both the shepherd who cares for the sheep and the lamb who died for them and in whose blood, we are made new.

And these are the promises of Jesus, the Lamb of God who is our shepherd. Those who follow Jesus “will hunger no more and thirst no more…for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

These are the promises of Jesus, the Good Shepherd for you.

In response: we are to dare to follow Jesus – and not the Empire. We are to follow the way of Jesus who teaches us to love and welcome the neighbor, the other, to care for the sick, the marginalized, the poor.  And even though it is easier or tempting to be distracted by the false and tempting offers of “success” by those whose interest is in enriching themselves, Jesus invites us to follow him and his way. For Jesus says, “My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me.” 

Following Jesus means listening to the voice of Jesus. I can think of no better way to listen to the voice of Jesus than by engaging in prayer, Bible study and worship. These practices build the foundation of faith.

When we pray, we are inviting God to enter into our lives and I encourage you, in your praying, to take time to: praise and thank God for the gifts you have received; ask God for forgiveness for the things that you have done and failed to do; share with God your questions and concerns and don’t be afraid to ask for help! Ask God to guide your thoughts and your actions for that day. AND THEN… listen. Jesus said, “My sheep hear my voice.” In order to hear Jesus’ voice, we need to listen.

Bible study is not just for Sunday school and confirmation. It is taking the time to read God’s word and apply it to how we live our daily lives. When we do Bible study together, we are seeking God’s direction for our lives – rather than all of the other sources that seek to influence what we do with our time and our lives and the money and resources that we have. How do we spend the time we call “ours”? How do we spend the money we call “ours”? Who do we serve? Who do we protect and care for?  Who do we advocate for? Who are we following? It’s less about having head knowledge and more about learning how Jesus would have us act in the world. Jesus sent his disciples out into the world – and sends you and me out too.

Finally – and with great joy -- we worship together. I say together, because when we worship, we are joining a crowd of witnesses both on earth and in heaven above praising God and being strengthened for love and service. So let us sing joyfully. Because no matter what challenges may come your way, or our way, Jesus is still Lord of heaven and earth. So let us join in praising Jesus, the lamb of God, our shepherd and Lord. Amen.

May 11, 2025 + Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane + Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran

Sunday, May 4, 2025

Last weekend, I was on campus down at Gustavus Adolphus College, representing Faith Lilac Way at the annual Association of Congregations Meeting. Gustavus just happens to be my beloved alma mater, and it was a wonderful excuse to be on campus in the beautiful springtime as the semester winds down. During her state of the college, President Bergman reminded all of us that graduation was right around the corner for this year’s graduating seniors. It is, in fact, today. So with that in mind, throughout the last week, I have been finding myself thinking about my own graduations.

 I remember graduating from high school, slightly sad yes because I was very fortunate to have a mostly positive high school experience with good friends I remain close to still today, but mostly I was just excited and I was ready for what was next. I could just taste the newness, the freedom, that all that was to come could only be good. I felt like I had the world at my feet. And that assuredness mostly turned out to be founded. And, my four years at college where I headed right after high school were largely fantastic, and I am grateful every single day for my undergraduate experiences and friendships.

            But, I remember feeling very differently on the day of my college graduation than I did for high school. In that season, I felt like I was losing much of my identity, so much of what had defined me for the last four years. How was I supposed to go out into the real world and not need to introduce myself with my major? And what do you mean that my best friends would no longer live a flight of stairs above me or across the parking lot? I felt completely lost and I felt sad. And I found that the best I could do was to just think of what was immediately next. I would move home to my parents’ house before my internship started. And when people asked me what was next for me, I would glibly answer that well for now I was going to just focus on reading the new Dan Brown novel because I couldn’t remember the last time I’d read a book for fun. During the last week of school, one of my friends even made a sign that he affixed to his backpack that said, “I am a senior. No, I don’t know the meaning of life and I don’t know what I’m doing after graduation, so you can all stop asking.” At the end of it, there was this feeling of, well, there’s nothing to do but to head for home and figure out what would come next.

            Today’s gospel lesson exemplifies these feelings but on steroids. If I thought I was lost and had given up huge pieces of my identity just by graduating from college, I really can’t fathom how Jesus’ disciples must have felt. The man that they followed, who they had sacrificed for, was gone, seemingly along with the assurance that he was in fact the messiah they had all longed for. What would be waiting upon arriving home? Where was home? Was Cleopas nervous to get home because he didn’t want the earful from his family about his disappearance during the years he was following Jesus? Can you imagine those I told you so’s?

            Today is actually Star Wars day. It’s May 4th, so may the fourth be with you. Obviously, I have to use the excuse to work Star Wars into today’s sermon. Today’s gospel lesson brings about so many feelings of unrequited hopes and dreams. I admit that I do generally prefer the original Star Wars movies, episodes 4, 5, and 6 which were released in the 70s and 80s. I can mostly take or leave episodes 1,2, and 3 and then 7, 8, and 9. But, there is a scene that comes to my mind in today’s context. At the end of the third movie, we reach a pivotal moment. Movies 1, 2, and 3 have shown Annakin Skywalker, working and training with his jedi master, Obi Wan Knobi to become a jedi and wielder of the Force. Annakin is thought to be the one who is foretold to bring balance to the force, aligning himself with the “good” side of the force along with Yoda and Obi Wan. But, Annakin is seduced to the dark side of the force, eventually morphing into the infamous Darth Vader.

            At the end of the third movie, after a lot of drama and violence, Annakin has fought with Obi Wan and he is falling back into a volcano. In anger, desperation Obi Wan yells, “You were my brother. You were the chosen one.” And I wonder, did any of Jesus’ disciples cry out similar words after his crucifixion? I imagine variations of “Jesus, you were my brother, my teacher, my confidant. I believed in you, left home for you, was ostracized by communities for you. You were supposed to be the chosen one. The Messiah. You didn’t bring God’s wrath and revenge like you were supposed to. Now what am I supposed to do?”

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

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

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

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

            You all might be picking up throughout my time here with you so far on how much I love the multitudes of literary devices and parallels we can find throughout the bible, the bookends as I like to call them. So, if we look back to Jesus’ birth and the very start of his story, he came into this world as a stranger. A displaced Gallilean, far away from home, guests in Bethlehem, without resources, without even a proper place to spend the night. And then, before they could even return home, they were forced to flee to Egypt for fear of their safety and their lives.      So, Jesus enters the world as a stranger. And here in today’s story from Luke, he is once again a stranger.

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

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

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

Vicar Karla Leitzman

Sunday, May 4, 2025

Last weekend, I was on campus down at Gustavus Adolphus College, representing Faith Lilac Way at the annual Association of Congregations Meeting. Gustavus just happens to be my beloved alma mater, and it was a wonderful excuse to be on campus in the beautiful springtime as the semester winds down. During her state of the college, President Bergman reminded all of us that graduation was right around the corner for this year’s graduating seniors. It is, in fact, today. So with that in mind, throughout the last week, I have been finding myself thinking about my own graduations.

 I remember graduating from high school, slightly sad yes because I was very fortunate to have a mostly positive high school experience with good friends I remain close to still today, but mostly I was just excited and I was ready for what was next. I could just taste the newness, the freedom, that all that was to come could only be good. I felt like I had the world at my feet. And that assuredness mostly turned out to be founded. And, my four years at college where I headed right after high school were largely fantastic, and I am grateful every single day for my undergraduate experiences and friendships.

            But, I remember feeling very differently on the day of my college graduation than I did for high school. In that season, I felt like I was losing much of my identity, so much of what had defined me for the last four years. How was I supposed to go out into the real world and not need to introduce myself with my major? And what do you mean that my best friends would no longer live a flight of stairs above me or across the parking lot? I felt completely lost and I felt sad. And I found that the best I could do was to just think of what was immediately next. I would move home to my parents’ house before my internship started. And when people asked me what was next for me, I would glibly answer that well for now I was going to just focus on reading the new Dan Brown novel because I couldn’t remember the last time I’d read a book for fun. During the last week of school, one of my friends even made a sign that he affixed to his backpack that said, “I am a senior. No, I don’t know the meaning of life and I don’t know what I’m doing after graduation, so you can all stop asking.” At the end of it, there was this feeling of, well, there’s nothing to do but to head for home and figure out what would come next.

            Today’s gospel lesson exemplifies these feelings but on steroids. If I thought I was lost and had given up huge pieces of my identity just by graduating from college, I really can’t fathom how Jesus’ disciples must have felt. The man that they followed, who they had sacrificed for, was gone, seemingly along with the assurance that he was in fact the messiah they had all longed for. What would be waiting upon arriving home? Where was home? Was Cleopas nervous to get home because he didn’t want the earful from his family about his disappearance during the years he was following Jesus? Can you imagine those I told you so’s?

            Today is actually Star Wars day. It’s May 4th, so may the fourth be with you. Obviously, I have to use the excuse to work Star Wars into today’s sermon. Today’s gospel lesson brings about so many feelings of unrequited hopes and dreams. I admit that I do generally prefer the original Star Wars movies, episodes 4, 5, and 6 which were released in the 70s and 80s. I can mostly take or leave episodes 1,2, and 3 and then 7, 8, and 9. But, there is a scene that comes to my mind in today’s context. At the end of the third movie, we reach a pivotal moment. Movies 1, 2, and 3 have shown Annakin Skywalker, working and training with his jedi master, Obi Wan Knobi to become a jedi and wielder of the Force. Annakin is thought to be the one who is foretold to bring balance to the force, aligning himself with the “good” side of the force along with Yoda and Obi Wan. But, Annakin is seduced to the dark side of the force, eventually morphing into the infamous Darth Vader.

            At the end of the third movie, after a lot of drama and violence, Annakin has fought with Obi Wan and he is falling back into a volcano. In anger, desperation Obi Wan yells, “You were my brother. You were the chosen one.” And I wonder, did any of Jesus’ disciples cry out similar words after his crucifixion? I imagine variations of “Jesus, you were my brother, my teacher, my confidant. I believed in you, left home for you, was ostracized by communities for you. You were supposed to be the chosen one. The Messiah. You didn’t bring God’s wrath and revenge like you were supposed to. Now what am I supposed to do?”

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

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

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

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

            You all might be picking up throughout my time here with you so far on how much I love the multitudes of literary devices and parallels we can find throughout the bible, the bookends as I like to call them. So, if we look back to Jesus’ birth and the very start of his story, he came into this world as a stranger. A displaced Gallilean, far away from home, guests in Bethlehem, without resources, without even a proper place to spend the night. And then, before they could even return home, they were forced to flee to Egypt for fear of their safety and their lives.      So, Jesus enters the world as a stranger. And here in today’s story from Luke, he is once again a stranger.

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

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

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

            Vicar Karla Leitzman

Easter Sunday, April 20, 2025

Living Resurrection

Three nails. You should have received three nails last Sunday or today. If you don’t have at least one nail please raise your hand and the ushers will bring you one. They are a little sharp and so for the children we have plastic crosses.

 I’d like you to take a look at those nails right now. Nails are not an ordinary gift on Easter Sunday. Nails would seem to belong to Good Friday and the story of the crucifixion – not Easter – right? After all, today is the day that we celebrate the resurrection of Christ. Today is the day for Easter eggs, lilies and alleluias. 

 This is all true. And yet…our Gospel today begins not with an Easter proclamation but with Mary Magdalene weeping as she mourns the death of Jesus. She watched as he hung nailed to the cross. She watched as he was buried in the tomb. And so now, having stayed away on the Sabbath, as the law required, she came to the tomb early Sunday morning – while it was still dark --  to grieve, to weep, to mourn. She learned firsthand that grief is the price we pay for love. But when she comes to the tomb and sees that it is open, her immediate reaction is fear and so she ran. 

 She ran to the disciples and after she tells Peter and the other disciple, they take off running. They run to the tomb… only to find it empty and with nothing but folded graveclothes as a clue.  John writes that one of the disciples believes – but they don’t yet understand.  So, they go home. What else could they do?

 Mary Magdalene comes back – but she’s not running this time. It’s hard to run when you are weeping. The empty tomb and the missing body just compound her grief. What could she do? She can’t even grieve property.

 When angels show up in the Bible, their first words are usually “Do not be afraid.” Perhaps Mary’s grief is too great to make her more afraid – and so when the angels ask Mary why she is weeping, she simply tells them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” Her grief has led her to make assumptions – normal assumptions – that what is dead, stays dead and that the dead cannot move themselves. And so she weeps all the more. Then Jesus asks her the same question, “Woman why are you weeping?” Perhaps she is blinded by grief or maybe simply cannot see through her tears but she makes another assumption  - that he is a gardener and so she asks if he took the body?  

 It is only when Jesus calls her by name that her grief-caused fear, anxiety and hopelessness fall away and she recognizes Jesus. Her grief turns to surprise, wonder and joy. Her inaction turns to action as Jesus empowers Mary Magdalene to return again to the disciples. This time, she does not run in fear and grief. This time she goes with faith, good courage and hope. Her fear has been replaced by faith and her anxiety has turned to courage and her feelings of frustration and hopelessness have turned to hope as she proclaims, “I have seen the Lord” and announces the Good News of Jesus’ resurrection. The living resurrection of Christ is GOOD NEWS.

 But can we hear it as good news today? Or do we get stuck in fear, anxiety and a sense of hopelessness when the world around us seems out of our control, when bad things happen and when hopes and dreams are shattered. Do we hang on to the nails and only focus on the hurts and pain of our world?

  Like Mary Magdalene, we need to remember, and to remind one another, of the transformative power of Christ that leads us from fear to faith, from anxiety to courage, from hopelessness to hope and from death to new life in Christ.

 Vicar Sam Wells, an English priest and theologian in the church of England, tells the story of how one man embraced a living resurrection infused with faith, courage and hope.

 At 7:48 AM, six days a week, the BBC features a two-minute broadcast by a religious leader about an issue in the news and its theological significance. It’s called “Thought for the Day.” Rev. Sam Wells is one of the speakers.

One day, not long after he had completed his two-minute broadcast, he got a phone call.  The minute he answered the phone and heard the man say, “Sam?” - he knew it was a man from one of his first congregations. This man was a firefighter who joined an adult confirmation class that he led and so Sam had gotten to know him and his family well. He assumed there was a problem. He asked:“Is your wife and the family ok?” But his mind was quickly put to rest when the man explained that he heard Sam on the radio and felt the need to call. They spent the next fifteen minutes or so catching up on each other’s life. And then, feeling the press of work, Sam thanked him for calling and they said goodbye.

 Less than 10 minutes later, the man called again. This time he said, “I was so excited that you picked up the phone that I forgot to tell you why I called. I’ve got a confession to make.”

 “Well,” Sam replied, “I’m in the business. Take your time.”

 The man said, “Do you remember your first Easter at St. Luke’s? Two weeks before Easter, at the Sunday service, you gave each one of us three nails. You said, ‘Put these somewhere where you’ll be close to them every day. And on Easter morning, bring them back with you and put them in the font and celebrate what those nails really mean.’”

“How ’bout that,” Sam said. “Tell me about your confession.”

“The truth is, I never brought the nails back”.

Vicar Sam said, “Go on….”

The man said, “When I took the nails home, I knew what I wanted to do. The next day, I took them to the fire station. I picked up my firefighter’s overalls and I sewed each one of them into its own pocket across my chest. And then I gave each one of them a name.

“The first one, the largest one, I called Faith. The second one, the rusty one, I called Courage. And the third one, the twisted, almost broken one, I called Hope. And from then on, for the next 20 years, every time the bell went and we jumped down the chute into the fire tender to go out on a job, I would put my hand on my chest. My hand would cover the pocket with the first nail, and I would say, ‘Be close to me, I need you with me.’ I would move across to the second nail and would say, ‘Give me the strength to do what I need to do today.’ And then I’d find the third, twisted, smaller nail, and I’d say, ‘Help me make it through to live another day.’

“I kept those three nails in my overalls until six years ago when I retired. And when I heard your voice on the radio, I thought it was time to tell you why I never brought them back that Easter Day.”1

On that day, Vicar Sam Wells said that he heard the Gospel loud and clear from that retired fire fighter who had been practicing living resurrection every day. Those nails went from being crucifixion nails to resurrection nails.

 I hope you heard the resurrection message too.  And so now I invite you to look at those nails again. Pick one and call it Faith. Whenever you are in challenging times, times when you are afraid, or times in which you face the un-known, hold on to that nail and say to Jesus Emmanuel, “God With Us”, “Be close to me, I need you with me.”  That’s faith. It takes faith to ask God to be with you.

 And now pick up the next nail. This is the nail of Courage. In those times of trial, those times in which it feels like you are at a crossroad, those times in which difficult choices lay before you, pick up this nail and say to Jesus, “Give me the strength to do what I need to do;” and, I would add, the wisdom to do it today. That takes courage.

 Finally, pick up the last nail. This is the nail of hope. As Christians, we live in Resurrection hope – regardless of the situation around us in the world or in our lives. I know it is tempting to despair in those times when everything seems to be lined up against you. And yet, Jesus invites us to trust in him, the one who gives us hope even when there is no reason to hope. Jesus gives us hope for today – and all of our tomorrows. Jesus gives us this promise through the Holy Spirit and so we pray, “Help me make it through to live another day.”

 Brothers and sisters in Christ, may the living resurrection of Jesus fill you with faith, courage and hope so that you embrace the Gospel Good News of Jesus who “donned the overalls of our flesh and, though we were hard as nails, painstakingly sewed us into his heart that we might be close to him, be safe [through] him, and dwell with him forever.”1 Amen.

Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran + Easter Sunday + April 20, 2025 + Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

1Samuel Wells, The Three Nails in The Christian Century February 28, 2018

Sunday, April 13, 2025 Palm Sunday

What is the first thing that comes to your mind when you think of Palm Sunday? I promise this is not a trick question, but I am assuming that most of you immediately thought, “well palms. Duh, Vicar Karla. It is Palm Sunday.” We think of the triumph of yelling “Hosanna” as we process and parade through the church, often led by children, shouting for joy at the coming of Christ to Jerusalem.

 Maybe you think of the prominent juxtaposition of today’s seemingly joyful parade with the journey to the cross we will very soon take with Jesus as we go toward Good Friday and Jesus’ crucifixion.

 These are certainly logical and worthy responses. And, for me, the first thing that comes to mind when I think of Palm Sunday is always a rickety donkey that may not make it the entire way down the aisle. The church I grew up in had this old donkey that I always think of. How all of us kids would argue about who would get to walk the donkey during the procession each year. Heaven forbid someone actually ride it because I kid you not, the fear was that the thing would fall apart if you just looked at it the wrong way.

So because of this image, today, my first time preaching on Palm Sunday, I was immediately drawn to the narrative about the donkey as I read today’s gospel lesson from Luke. All of the language about the donkey caught my attention because I always so strongly associate Palm Sunday with the wooden donkey that I am very confident was rolled out at Salem Lutheran in St. Cloud this morning.

 After moving beyond the donkey, I am struck that the other components of the things we associate with Palm Sunday, namely the palms and the shouting of Hosanna are nowhere to be found in today’s readings from Luke. It is in the other gospel readings depicting today that we are shown that. In today’s reading, it is cloaks that are laid down for Jesus to both sit upon and for the donkey to walk upon.

 So, if we don’t have the hosannas and the palms tying today’s gospel to the rest of the gospels, what do we have? The donkey. We have the donkey which is the unifyer between all of these narratives.

 And to be clear, there is something pretty profound about the donkey. Where we might expect a war horse or a parade fit for the Roman military of the time, instead Jesus rides into Jerusalem riding on a lowly donkey. This is a prominent example of a place where we anticipate kingly grandeur and are instead given humility and camaraderie with the poor and the lowly.

We live in a world where we laud the wealthy, the famous. Those who have the money, the power, the influence make the rules, the orders. We don’t look to the poor- the houseless, the sick, the refugee, the poor, the outcast to hold the power in society. The same would have been true in Jesus’ time. Where a large, imposing war horse would have been expected, Jesus comes in on a donkey. We do everything we can to try to get Jesus to fit the narrative of power and might we have built in our head that we fail to remember that Jesus told us where he would always be- with the poor, the outcast, the stranger. Jesus doesn’t spend his short time on Earth with the powerful. He seeks out the sinners, the tax collectors, those pushed aside to the furthest corners of society’s margins.

And with all this in mind, I can’t help but think that it is fitting that the first thing that comes to my mind when I think of Palm Sunday is that decrepit donkey. Because, even though Jesus stipulates that the donkey he would ride into Jerusalem would be a colt never ridden before, there is something striking about my image of this donkey from my childhood that has clearly seen better days. Because Jesus prioritized those whose current days were not their best. Jesus prioritized those who were deep into the hardest, most gritty days of their lives.

 There are many juxtapositions present in Palm Sunday. Where we lay down our cloaks and welcome Jesus to Jerusalem today, we remember that in only a few short days from now, he will be crucified, murdered as a sacrifice, but also because he was so subversive in the way he dared to speak out against the mistreatment of the marginalized that the powers that be were so threatened they put him to death.

In a few short days, where today we gather to welcome and celebrate, we will soon gather to condemn and to turn away, to deny.

 Palm Sunday sets the stage for what is to come. Palm Sunday reminds us that Jesus draws near to us in our most challenging days. The days where we might just feel like that rickety donkey utilized at my home church.

 And even on those hard, gritty days, Jesus still draws us near.

Vicar Karla Leitzman

Sunday, April 6, 2025

How does LOVE SMELL…

 What do you think that LOVE smells like? Tastes like? Feels like? Looks like? Sounds like?

Does love taste like:  Homemade chocolate chip cookies? An ice cream sundae on a hot July day? Apple pie..OR?

What Does love feel like:  A hug, an embrace, a hearty handshake, or snuggling a baby..OR?

What Does love look like: A sunrise, a family gathering, a soup kitchen…Or?

What Does love sound like: A symphonic orchestra? a baby’s first cry? Silence? Or?

What Does love smell like: A dozen roses? Bread baking in the oven? A bottle of exquisite expensive perfume?

In our Gospel lesson, love smelled like pure nard.

To put our story into context,  Jesus has just raised Lazarus from the dead and so his sisters, Martha and Mary, threw a celebration to honor and thank Jesus and to celebrate the new life of their beloved brother – who they once thought was dead and now is reclining by the table.

To celebrate, “Martha served” – and while we may remember the story of Martha serving and COMPLAINING that Mary wasn’t helping— this time all we hear is that Martha is doing what Jesus calls all his disciples to do – serve the other. I bet, under Martha’s experienced hands, love tasted delicious? Martha reveals her love through the smells and taste of good food – a feast of fresh bread and wine along with all of the special foods created just for this day. For Martha, love looks like humble service. Of course Martha served. She was in her element.

 But Mary was different.  Mary was at Jesus’ feet again. This time, not as a listening disciple, drinking in Jesus’ words. This time… Mary pours a whole pound of expensive perfume – they say it was pure nard - over Jesus’ feet and wipes them with her hair. The smell must have been overwhelming. I opened this little tiny bottle and the smell wafted out. And it was expensive – especially for a woman in Bethany. It cost a year’s wages for a man. How did she even come up with it – and then to pour it on Jesus’ feet?

This display of extravagant expense is made even more shocking by the intimacy of Mary letting down her hair right there at the dining table. Women did not do that outside of the bedroom. But Mary didn’t seem to give a fig about the rules she was breaking as she massaged the oil into Jesus’ feet and wiped them with her hair and ignored the stares and rude comments of Judas. What does love smell like? What does love look like? What does love feel like?  Mary’s love looks, smells and feels extravagant, intimate and personal.

It also made everyone in the room take notice. I mean, how could you not notice the smell which filled the room.  How could you not notice a woman on the floor untying her hair and massaging Jesus’ feet?

Judas noticed – and couldn’t refrain from rebuking Mary. He sounds a bit self-righteous in suggesting that “the money could have been given to the poor.” As readers, we are given a little aside suggests Judas has an ulterior motive – rumor was that he helped himself from the community funds. So, while Mary and Martha demonstrate the love of that we, as disciples, followers of Jesus should emulate, Judas who was chosen as a disciple, is shown as the opposite, the anti-disciple that everyone loves to hate. But, in a way, he’s right, the perfume could have been sold and given to the poor.

Jesus’ response to Judas is worth exploring. Jesus quotes Leviticus 15 which states that you will always have the poor with you – AND – that this means you should always care for the poor. Jesus’ command to love one another includes loving and caring for the poor. Caring for the poor remains our duty, our obligation and our command from Jesus. That doesn’t go away.

AND, not but, AND, Jesus supports, honors and interprets Mary’s action as being greater than she perhaps even imagined. Mary gave out of love – and she gave all that she had – her money, her hair, her self.  This was an act of extravagant love, gratitude and selflessness.  

Love is extravagant. This is the kind of love that God gives to us.

John begins his Gospel with another story of extravagant love. Jesus was with his mother Mary and the disciples at a wedding. The wine ran out. And remember what Jesus did? He turned water into wine – lots of wine, an over-abundance of the best wine to celebrate a marriage. It was extravagant. It could have been sold and the money given to the poor. But at that wedding feast, love tasted like rich wine – the best wine – and the response to this gift – was to share it with the whole village - rich and poor.

God’s love is generous – not stern or stingy. As theologian Dan Clendenin writes, again and again we see in the Bible that God is “like a manager who pays a full day's wages for one hour of work. He's the God who asks Jonah if he's angry because he is generous to the pagan Ninevites. He's the waiting father who welcomes home a wayward son with a ring, a robe, and a party.”1 God’s love is generous and surprising. 

In our Gospel today, Jesus declares that Mary’s action is not only generous and surprising, but it is also prophetic; Mary is anointing him for his burial.  For Jesus is the Messiah; Messiah means the anointed one. Jesus is anointed by GOD at his baptism and he is anointed by Mary in this last act of love before his arrest, death and resurrection.

This is what love looks like: Jesus loved you so much that he was willing to suffer, to be ridiculed, and even to die – in the most shameful manner - on a cross.

Today’s Gospel story from John might be a bit out of order in our journey to the cross. Mark places it on the Wednesday of Holy Week. It certainly points to the passion of Jesus.

But… regardless of the timeline, this story gives us an opportunity, while we are still in the midst of Lent, to ponder: How do we love Jesus?  Or rather – make it personal, like Mary does: How do you love Jesus?

As we see from the two sisters, love can take many forms. Love can be shown in acts of service, like Martha does. Love can be shown in acts of devotion and adoration like Mary who uses her whole body to express her love – much to the surprise and alarm of others in the room. I dare say that most of the people in our culture – or at least the culture in which I grew up - would react much in the same way. My grandmother – whose name happens to be Martha – would be much more comfortable in the kitchen than on the floor wiping Jesus’ feet with her hair. How about you? How would you express your love, your gratitude, your adoration of Jesus?

Again, Love takes many forms. Love is generous and extravagant and Love is also open to something new. As our reading from Isaiah says, “Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive I will make a way…for I give water in the wilderness, rivers in the desert, to give drink to my chosen people… so that they may declare my praise.” 

Brothers and sisters, I do not know how God is making a new way in our world today. Too often I see only the sorrow and the pain and the challenges of our world.  But… I do believe that God is active in our world. And I believe that Jesus shows God’s way through the gift of love, a love that sometimes surprises us with how it smells, tastes, feels, looks and sounds.  

In these days of Lent, and as we come to the time of Holy, I ask you to receive the surprising love of Jesus given FOR YOU. And then ponder: How do we – as a church, as a community, love Jesus?  And then… don’t be afraid to make it personal - How do you love Jesus?... Amen.

1 Dan Clendenin, Journey with Jesus, https://www.journeywithjesus.net/lectionary-essays/current-essay/ 2025

April 6, 2025 + Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran + Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

Sunday, March 23, 2025

Vicar Karla Leitzman

 One maybe interesting thing about me is that I really love a movie, book, or TV series that doesn’t have a clear cut ending. Don’t get me wrong, I like a good romantic comedy with a predictable ending too, but I do really enjoy being allowed to think about different ways a story could end.

 Take the classic movie from 1943, Casablanca, which is one of my all time favorites. We don’t really know what is in store for our characters at the close of the movie, and every time I watch it, I wonder how it all shakes out.

 So, for anyone who hasn’t seen it, or maybe hasn’t seen it in a while, the story takes place in the midst of World War Two Morocco where night club owner, and previous gun runner, Rick, wants nothing more than to go about his day to day life, making a living, not getting involved in politics and just going about his business that only affects him individually.

 You see, during WWII, French Morocco was a very prominent stop on what was referred to as the refugee trail. Many left France and other parts of central Europe to cross the Mediterranean down into northern Africa where they awaited their next steps, often having no idea what those next steps would be. Nazi officials, working with local authorities, could wander the streets, demanding any person show their papers, always looking for those who were either part of the French resistance or Jews or general enemies of the Third Reich. There are several mentions in the movie of people being forced to wait endlessly to determine where they would next end up, often gambling for money to afford bribes to get Visas to leave Morocco.

 One particular line from Rick that always sticks out to me as different officials are trying to get him to take a position in one way or the other and he says, “I don’t stick my neck out for nobody.”

 So one night, Rick is sitting at his bar and in walks Ilsa, the woman he fell in love with as the Nazis were coming into Paris walks into the bar. We learn that her husband is a prominent resistance fighter who was sent to a concentration camp and she believed him to be dead when she met Rick. It turned out that was not the case and she goes back to her husband and then they both end up in Rick’s bar with the famous line, “out of all the gin joints in all the towns in the world, she walks into mine.”

The movie ends with Isla and her husband escaping Casablanca so he can continue his resistance work against the Nazis but not before he ceremoniously welcomes Rick “back to the fight.” We’re not sure what is next for Rick, but it is evident that he is back to the work of resistance, and he is, in fact, going to be sticking his neck out for others.

 One of my other favorite things about the movie is that it was made in 1943 so really during the height or pinnacle of World War II. The writers have it ending with a hopeful defeat of the Nazis and alluding to Rick’s continued resistance work, but they wouldn’t have known how the current situation they were embroiled within would end. 

 I promise I have more of a point to make than just giving you a summary or a recap of one of my most favorite classic movies. But, I’ve found myself making a lot of parallels to the movie and this week’s gospel lesson.

 The first is the connection between the end of the movie and the end of today’s reading from Luke. The way that the reading ends where Jesus is talking about the fig tree and saying to try to enable it to grow for another year, to give it just another chance, before cutting it down makes me kind of shake the bible a little bit, wondering if insight about what happens next will fall out of the pages. Even though I am a self-professed lover of stories with open endings, the end of today’s reading makes me wonder, “well, what happened in a year? Did the fig tree bear fruit? Did the gardener tend the soil with care and give the tree every chance to bear figs? Or, did the gardener not create an environment of good and rich soil and thereby letting the tree continue to not give fruit?”

 It is fitting, then, to realize that maybe the reason it is left with an un resolved ending is because there is no way Jesus would know if the tree would bear fruit, because as we know, we are just a short time away from Jesus’ death. We are therefore left to wonder if the tending to the soil and creating as a good of an environment as possible for this fig tree to bear fruit really will pay off.

 The author of Luke doesn’t tell us. We don’t get an epilogue or a follow up to show us what comes to pass.

In a commentary he wrote for today’s gospel reading, one of my favorite professors of the New Testament at Luther Seminary, Matt Skinner, writes “Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling? Not here. This time it’s loud and pointedly.

So, loudly and pointedly Jesus is calling.

 As we continue on this journey to Palm Sunday and Holy Week, I often in these days find myself wondering what or how Jesus would be feeling leading up to his entrance to Jerusalem and his subsequent murder by the authorities of Rome. And, I think I can understand his exasperation and pointedness that we see on display in today’s gospel lesson from Luke.

 Jesus has been living out his ministry during his short time on Earth trying so hard to get people to re-evaluate how they live in community with and for one another, how to care for those the world does not care for. And so, in today’s passage, I guess I can understand how he is employing this very strong language of needing to repent. It’s almost like he is saying, “why do you still not understand? I have been moving, living, teaching, embodying the ways that God wants you to to love others. Why are you still not tending the soil in a way that creates an atmosphere for nourishment and growth? In a world that is brutally occupied by the Roman Empire, where the poor are continually made poorer, where the disenfranchised are continually kept from resources, where the sad and sick are made sadder and sicker, I have shown you how to love and who to love. Why are you still continuing to not listen to what I am showing you?

 Today’s lesson is a pretty pivotal narrative as we move throughout the rest of Lent and eventually into Holy Week. I’m not sure about you, but I for one have gotten the impression that Pilate is a character who kind of goes along for the ride later on in the passion narrative. We’ve been led to believe he’s kind of wishy washy, a prop for Rone, and he tries to get the crowd to spare Jesus when he puts up Barabas and then sort of gets caught in the cross hairs. But, today’s reading depicts him in another way entirely. Today’s reading depicts him as cruel and calculating.

 Not only, today, does Jesus give a very interesting commentary on the need to repent for sins and seek forgiveness, but we also get some insight into human suffering. As humans, oftentimes we want easy answers. If something bad happens to us or someone we love, we want to know what we could have possibly done to deserve such a thing. Or, if we pray for something and it doesn’t come to pass, we wonder what we did wrong. Why God seemingly didn’t answer our prayers. Jesus reminds us that we are all apt to suffering and that if we feel our prayers are not answered or if we are in pain, it doesn’t mean that we have done something wrong or that God is punishing us. Because after all, we are not promised easy days or days without pain. But, we are promised God’s presence, that God will meat us in those easy day and that God will meat us in the hard days and that we are not alone and that we are loved.

 Like the movie Casablanca and today’s ending of the gospel reading, we are still living in an unfinished story. We do our best to create a good environment for growth and for a foundation for Jesus’ teachings to take root in our hearts and beyond. And, we might fall short. Some days, some seasons, we might do a better job of nurturing that than others. And, God meets us in all of those places and in all of the in betweens.

 And yet, all of that does not let us off the hook. Just because we do not have to perform a specified set of good works to earn God’s grace and love doesn’t mean that we can life our lives for ourselves alone and not stick our necks out for anyone like Rick at the start of the movie. In fact, it is precisely because of that lack of need for prescribed good deeds that we are charged with repenting for our sins, for acknowledging the ways both our action and inaction cause people harm and suffering. It is because we don’t have to focus on checking off our good deeds boxes that we are freed to fiercely and boldly love and serve our neighbors, constantly tending the soil, constantly evaluating how we can move through the world with more grace, empathy, and love so that our hearts can bear good fruit.

We are always living into this cycle. We repent and come to awareness of the ways we fall short in Christ’s call to love and to serve. And then, we will probably fall short again. And the beautiful thing is that we are loved, and we are constantly born anew, always given grace and opportunities to keep working to create God’s kingdom here on Earth. Amen.

Sunday, March 16, 2025

Listen to God and Trust in the Lord

 What animals come to mind if you were asked to name an animal that is powerful and majestic? Maybe a lion, a stallion or an eagle? Certainly these feel majestic and fierce in their looks and actions: the lion roars, the stallion charges into battle and the eagle soars.

 But while we might choose a lion. Jesus comes as a lamb.

We may wish for a stallion, but Jesus enters Jerusalem on a donkey.

And while we may be awed by the eagle, Jesus says, he is like a mother hen.

 Notice that the animals I named as our images of power and majesty are animals who have been used in battle or are predators themselves. They take what they want by force., or in the case of the horse, they are used to help us get what we want.

 But this is not the nature of Jesus.

 Instead, Jesus chooses the image of a mother hen, who, in the face of danger, will stand up and spread her wings wide, beckoning her little chicks to safety.  And as she does so, she puts herself at risk.  If she had wished to fight, she would have used her wings to fly and attack her opponent.  Having raised chickens when I was a child, I know, first hand, that when a chicken chooses to fly at you, their tender middle is protected by their wings which flap at you and cause distraction while their sharp beaks can do some painful damage.  But a mother hen does not attack. Instead, she stands up and clucks to her chicks. She is vulnerable as she opens wide her wings, her soft belly exposed. Scurrying towards her, the chicks disappear under the folds of her wings without a sound, as if they were never there.  But the chicks who have strayed and do not hear the call – well… they become lunchmeat for the eagle or the fox.  

 Speaking of foxes, after the Pharisees warn Jesus about Herod, Jesus calls Herod a fox. It’s not hard to imagine him as someone who would happily snack on little chicks – and eat the mother chicken for lunch.  After all, everyone knew that Herod had killed John the Baptist at one of his dinners and now, apparently, Herod wanted to see Jesus.  But, unafraid, Jesus declares that nothing will stop him from doing the work that God has sent him to do. Jesus is on the road to Jerusalem – but before he even gets there, he knows that not all will listen and that some of those who cry “Blessed be the one who comes in the name of the Lord” as he enters the city on a donkey, not on a warhorse, will also cry, “Crucify him.”

 And yet… despite the danger to himself, Jesus does not choose another way, nor does he choose a different image, one that is more fierce than a little fox. If he had wanted a powerful mother image, he could have chosen a lioness or a she-bear who will destroy anyone or anything who endangers her little cubs. But instead, Jesus chooses a mother hen to describe his desire to gather ALL the people under his wings….even though he knows that some of the foolish chicks do not come when the mother hen clucks, and not everyone then or now listens to the sound of his voice.

 And this is why Jesus gives a cry of lament, “Jerusalem, O Jerusalem.”  He cries out in lament, but he is not lamenting for his own sake nor for the lost splendor of the city – even though by the time that Luke is writing, the temple and Jerusalem have both been destroyed. Instead, Jesus laments for all those – who like little chicks – had been led astray. He laments, “How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing.”

 Lament is an emotion of deep sorrow, of grief, of loss.  Abram in our first lesson expresses lament to God for not keeping God’s promise to give him a child, an heir.  Lament is all too familiar to anyone who has lost a loved one too soon, has had dreams shattered, or is saddened by unfulfilled hopes and promises. We know the deep sorrow, grief and sometimes frustration, that comes with lament.

 Lament can lead to anger, reactive violence, fear and the deep dark valley of despair and hopelessness.

 When we are afraid or angry, our instincts urge us to either run away or fight. But everyone knows what happens to a little chick who tries to outrun a fox. The same is true if it tries to fight. It becomes lunch. And even with the best tools, a little more violence is not the answer to violence. It just begets more violence. And this can lead to despair and a feeling of hopelessness.

 But this is not the only option. Lament can also be a turning point. For sometimes….in our darkest moments… we come to the realization that we can go no farther on our own, we have hit a wall. We need help. For as much as we hate to depend upon others, and as much as we would love to be able to cry out, “I can do it myself,” or think of ourselves as the leader of the army who is fighting to make things right…. we are more like the little chicks who need the outstretched wings and care of the mother hen. 

 As we see in our Psalm, lament can lead us towards trusting in God rather than in our own power.  Despite the challenges before him, Psalmist puts his trust in God, proclaiming, “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom then shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?”  He later bends his will to God’s will, praying, “Teach me your way, O Lord; lead me on a level path” and ends with a proclamation of faith – for the here and now, “

This I believe—that I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living!” Even though it is hard, the Psalmist urges others to also: “Wait for the Lord and be strong. Take heart and wait for the Lord!”

 This does not mean that, as followers of Christ, we should do nothing at all but pray. Instead, when I think it means is that we should pray – first.  And then act in the way of the Lord, in the way of Jesus.

 Abram’s prayer is kind of a complaint to God. But God answers him in a way that he couldn’t even imagine possible. God not only assures him that the promise of a child will come true, but God makes a new covenant with Abram, binding God’s very self to keeping this promise.

And God’s promise comes true – in God’s time, not in Abram’s time.

 This is one of the challenges of trusting in God. We aren’t in charge of the timeline. Instead, as Christians, we are invited, like the Psalmist, to proclaim our trust in the Lord.  And then, like Carmelite nun, Teresa of Avila proclaimed in the 1500s, be the hands and feet of Christ.

 This is challenging work, in the midst of lament, to not wallow in our sorrows and grief nor take out our anger or frustration on others. But instead to pray, to listen and to trust in God to show us the way. 

When we pray first, we see that the way of Jesus is the way of love, of praising God, trusting God and then walking in the way of God. For example, Martin Luther King Jr., a civil rights leader – and a pastor -- led non-violent marches to promote racial equality and justice.  He never lost sight of following in the way of Christ. And neither should we. 

Before Martin Luther King Jr. marched, he insisted that the people base their work in scripture and prayer.  This is the way of Jesus.

 Brothers and sisters, friends in Christ, let us follow in the way of Jesus, he who stretched out his arms and died for our sake, proclaims that he comes to us as a vulnerable mother hen who would gladly bring you all into the shelter of her wings. In response to our lament of the challenges of this world --- and there are many -- let us trust in the Lord and follow in the way of Jesus. Amen.

March 16, 2025 + Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran+ Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane 

Sunday, March 9, 2025

Learning to Listen to God: Tests. Trust. Discipleship.

Jesus was tested. The Spirit led him into the desert – without his boyscout 10 essentials, without anything really, for 40 days…which means, a very long time. So, of course, he was hungry.  And yet… even though the devil seemed to think that Jesus had the power to turn the stones into bread, Jesus does not use his power for himself. This is true here at the beginning of his ministry and at the end when the man who was on the cross next to him says,  “IF you are the Messiah, save yourself and us!”  But while Jesus later feeds 5 thousand people out of nothing but a little boy’s lunch, he tells the devil that “one does not eat by bread alone.” Again, Jesus does not use his power for himself.

 Jesus does not use his power to gain power and authority. It was what the people of Israel wanted: they were yearning for a King like David to overthrow the oppression of Caesar who was called the “son of god.”  How much better to have the real Son of God as their ruler! The devil even offers to give it to him – but there is a cost: worship the devil. Jesus is firm in his denial, using words right out of the 10 commandments: worship the Lord God and serve only God.

 Finally, the devil turns to scripture and, quoting Psalm 91, today’s Psalm, he double dog dares Jesus to jump from the pinnacle of heaven to prove who HE is. This last test has always intrigued me, because, the devil doesn’t misquote the scripture. Instead, what he does is use pieces of scripture for his own purposes. Which is worse! Of course, Jesus also knows Psalm 91– and knows who he is – and so he sends the devil packing “until an opportune time.”

 But – even though Jesus needs no help in getting rid of the devil - I think it is worth taking another look at the Psalm and how it is used.

 First of all, I love this Psalm – it is beautiful and comforting. Others apparently have thought so too. One Israeli scholar characterized Psalm 91 as an “amulet psalm.”1  What that means is that in ancient days, people would put sacred or inspiring words in a capsule and wear them as a necklace so that the words would be close to their heart. We do the same thing with jewelry, banners and plaques. I have the passage highlighted in my Bible. We, too, like to keep these passages close, to inspire us and as a reminder that God is our refuge.

 At the same time, it is important to interpret the Psalm as Jesus does, not literally as doctrine, but rather as filled with images of God’s overarching love and care. The poetic language of this psalm is like art and liturgy, reminding us of God’s presence with us and love for us but not suggesting that we will never face challenges or harm. After all, God gives us that freedom to try new things – and make mistakes. And some of our mistakes are costly – for us and for others.

 In addition, as I was reading about Psalm 91, I learned that it is, in some ways, a response to the psalm right before it. That psalm, Psalm 50 ends with the writer asking for help in a difficult time, a time in which they have made some mistakes and are paying the consequences of their actions. At the end of Psalm 90, the psalmist begs God saying, “Turn, O Lord, How long? Have compassion on your servants.”

 Psalm 91 is the response to that plea. It is a song of God’s compassion and love for all of God’s people. And so, while God does not promise to literally keep you from every harm or hurt, God does promise to be with you in times of trouble as well as in times of joy.

 We will be tempted and tested in this life. And sometimes we will make mistakes. But God is there to forgive us, renew us and teach us to walk in the way of God – in both big ways and small.

 I ran across a story about a monk Brother Carlos and his two house mates, I’ll call them Brother John and Brother Tomas that shows us first that we can make choices and that the choices that we make, can impact ourselves – and our neighbors. Even if they are seemingly small choices.

 Brother Carlos went into their kitchen to make coffee and discovered that there was only a little bit left. He was distraught. He counted on that cup of coffee to get him going in the morning –and they were a long way from a grocery store so he couldn’t go get more. He didn’t even drive anymore. What should he do? He wondered and he worried. He said to himself, “I’m old… I need this coffee… I deserve this coffee.” And so, quietly, he made the last of the coffee. He poured it into a mug and he smelled it. He couldn’t resist. He drank it up quickly – before the others would come.  And then, he quickly washed his dish and left. He’d gotten away it! And yet… he hadn’t. Because all day long the coffee gurgled in his stomach. He felt terrible. He had taken it all for himself. At the end of the day, he confessed. Of course, he was forgiven. But he thought about it a lot – and about how weak his fortitude had been. Jesus made it 40 days without food. He couldn’t make it for a day without coffee? It was just a cup of coffee… and yet… he had selfishly thought of himself and his own needs – and no one else.

 It was just a cup of coffee. But what if Brother Carlos had the opportunity for a “do-over.” That’s what we called it when my kids were little and there was some infraction made – usually a problem in which both of them were at fault. We would proclaim a “do-over” and then, armed with this bit of grace, they were able to make different choices.

 So, what if we gave Brother Carlos a “do-over?” What if, instead of pouring the last of the coffee into his mug and hastily drinking it, he set out three cups and called Brothers John and Tomas into the kitchen to enjoy the last of the coffee with him together. They would only each get a 1/3 of a cup. But can you imagine the joy of sharing the last drop together? Perhaps, before even taking a sip, they would inhale the smell of the ground coffee and only then would they take drink and sip it slowly, savoring each sip and sharing in community together. It might have been the best coffee they had ever had.

Or, maybe, after Brothers John and Tomas came into the kitchen and saw the little bit of coffee that was available, and knowing how much Brother Carlos loved coffee, Brother John might have said, “Oh Brother Carlos thank you so much for making the coffee, but I really had a hankering for tea today. Would you mind if I made tea instead?? And, perhaps brother Tomas would have preferred tea on that day too. Then Carlos would have drunk the last of the coffee – not as a stolen treasure that became bitter as the day went on but rather as a gift and joy.

 It is only a cup of coffee. Or is it?

 Everyday, we make lots of choices. The question is: will you trust God enough to choose the Christ-like way, serving God and the neighbor?  Or will you follow culture and serve yourself? Brothers and sisters, friends in Christ, let us lean into discipleship this Lent as we learn, every day,  to listen to God and to follow in God’s way. And, let us praise God together, trusting that God will be our refuge and shelter us in the shadows of God’s wings. Amen.

 March 9, 2025 + Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran Church + Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

1

1Amanda Benckhuysen , Working Preacher  https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/first-sunday-in-lent-3/commentary-on-psalm-911-2-9-16-6

2 Adapted from Jim Summers A Sermon for Every Sunday, Good Faith Media.

March 5, 2025 Ash Wednesday

Ash Wednesday 2025

What is truth? This is the question that Pilate asks Jesus at the end of his trial. But that is on Good Friday, the end of our season of Lent. And yet it is a good question for today. Or rather the question for today is “Will you tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth about yourself to God and to yourself.

 It's so much easier to look at the faults and the failures of others. Somehow, we all have really good farsighted vision when it comes to seeing the log in our neighbor’s eye. I find that the further away from me “they” are, the better I can see clearly what their faults are – where they have fallen short. I can summon a pretty fiery righteous indignation over other people’s actions.

 But tonight is not about fixing the world. It’s not even about fixing or even helping the neighbor. Tonight is about being truthful with yourself about yourself. In our Gospel today, Jesus warns against actions that are focused on “appearing” to be holy and pious in prayer, in spiritual practices and even in our giving. God sees through all of that… and is not impressed. After all – God knows your thoughts, actions and desires. And…. God love you anyway and wants a real relationship with you.  God also wants you to be your best self.   

 And so I have a few questions for you to ponder as we take time to “take stock of ourselves and our relationship with God.” And as you think about these things – please do not compare yourself with someone else…. either to say… well I’m not as faithful of a pray-er as Jane but at least I’m not like Harry.  God didn’t make you Jane or Harry. God made you with particular gifts and talents and challenges.

 So try to be honest with yourself when you answer these questions about yourself – to yourself and God. 

 First – How is your relationship with God? Is there time in your life that you set aside as “God time?” Or, put another way, is there time – whether it’s five, 10, 20 minutes or an hour that you could set aside in the morning or at lunch or in the evening to listen to God

 There are lots of ways to do this. Some of you may already have a daily routine that works for you. Great. But if not, or if you would like to try something new, we have a couple of options – an online Bible study, time with Vicar Karla on zoom, or a printed Lenten devotion or book. Or see me – I would love to help you find a good fit.  A word of warning: Don’t try to do them all! This is a season… a time of 6 weeks. Choose one new thing to try. Otherwise, it can be overwhelming.

 The second question I have for you is: how are you caring for yourself? Lent is a time to focus on growing your relationship with God – but that also means that it might be necessary to look at yourself and your habits. Ask yourself how you are spending your free time? What are you consuming? First think about what you eat and drink…do they make you feel well? Healthy? Or sluggish? How much sleep do you get? Do you spring up ready to go in the morning or do you wish you could roll over and go back to bed?  What about the media you watch, what you read, what you take in? What are your days being consumed by?

 Again, if there is something that you want to change, choose one thing. Six weeks is a great amount of time for an experiment in making choices that can bring you better health and also closer to God.

 Engaging in any type of change can be challenging. It reminds me of when my husband and I first talked about moving, I said, “Sure. But first I want to go through all of the boxes in the basement, get everything organized and then we will be in a great position to move.” Except. I never went through the boxes. It was simply too much – so I never started. It was only after a developer built a huge house next door and we lost our “private backyard” that we called a realtor who told us exactly what we had to do – and gave us a deadline.  And so, we did it. Box by box.  Project by project.

 The Israelites learned this the hard way. When God brought the Israelites out of Egypt, they spent a long time in the wilderness. This wilderness time was a time to learn God’s way. The book of Deuteronomy – the book of the law – recounts the stories of how they learned to follow God – and the consequences for them when they did not follow God.  Time after time, God is merciful and reminds them both of who they are, and that their best future, the way forward is to keep the covenant that God had made with them.  This is nothing new. Through Moses, God reminds them:

 “This command which I enjoin on you today is not too mysterious and remote for you. It is not up in the sky… Nor is it across the sea….No, it is something very near to you already in your mouths and in your hearts; you have only to carry it out” (Deuteronomy 30:11-14).

 Friends in Christ, this is our task too. It is not too difficult for us, for Jesus has promised to walk with us on the way, on our journey.

And so, on this day, we take time to reflect, to take stock of our sins of commission – things that we have done that have hurt our relationship with God, with ourselves and with others. And we take time to reflect on our sins of omission, those things that we did not do.  We tell the truth to ourself and to God about ourselves. And we are reminded: We are dust. And to dust we will return. But let me remind you that in spite of being dust – or maybe because we are made out of the dust of the earth by the living God, this God who knows the truth about you and loves you – not anyway but because you are God’s beloved child, God invites you and me to open our hands and our lives to receive the mercy and forgiveness that God yearns to give us. Amen.

March 5, 2025 + Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran + Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

Sunday, March 2, 2025

Vicar Karla Leitzman

3/2/2025 Sermon

One really nerdy thing that pastors and seminarians sometimes do is to ask each other which gospel is their favorite because you can admittedly glean some pretty interesting things about a person based on their answer. As an example, my answer has long been Mark. I like its relative simplicity and how profoundly human Jesus is portrayed to be throughout. I also appreciate that it ends with the disciples being confused and not knowing what to do next and are thus left to interpret together how to wade through that confusion, and let’s face it, I think there are elements of that we can all relate to.

                But, I also really tend to gravitate toward the gospel of Luke because in Luke over and over again we are reminded that Jesus has a heart for the outcast, the stranger, the lowly, and that we are all called to share that heart. After all, it is in the gospel of Luke that we hear the Magnificat and Mary’s song about the lowly being raised up. It is here, too, where we see that God chooses to come to a world that is fraught with pain and discord, coming to Earth in human form in a far removed town in a land forcefully occupied by Rome. The gospel of Luke, over and over shows us a Jesus who looks out for those who are overlooked, and we are reminded that Jesus is the earthly embodiment of God’s love.

                It is with stories like today’s Transfiguration of our Lord that I often like to look at context like this when I am trying to figure out where to start because as you all noticed, we have a lot going on here. We’ve got Jesus shining in bright light and then he’s talking to Elijah and Moses and then let’s just throw in the exorcizing of a demon in there for good measure, too at the end. Why not? But, it is when I remember who Jesus is portrayed to be throughout the rest of Luke’s gospel, where we get our lesson from today, that I am better able to unpack some of these elements and we can find some excellent context.

                This is a pivotal moment for several reasons where we get to glimpse the divinity of Jesus before his death and resurrection when that divinity will be on full display. As we look to the start of Lent, we will soon together share in Jesus’ journey to the cross, to death, and to resurrection. But before we can get there, first we are afforded a peak behind the curtain, so to speak, and get to witness the divinity of Jesus when he is in the midst of his ministry and life here on Earth. The transfiguration described today, gives us a sense of foreshadowing to the bright and beautiful resurrection we will celebrate here together in just 43 days. It also showcases through the presence of Elijah and Moses that there is knowledge and great insight to be found in ancestors who have come before, and that as we have our doubts and curiosities, that even Jesus had those same feelings to bring before these ancient ancestors. One of the lessons we can take from this story is that we are never so enlightened that we should ignore the wisdom and the stories of those who have come before  us and we are not the first to yearn for insight and answers.

In one of my trinitarian theology classes, I remember several of us remarking that there is a lot to contemplate in following a God who is all at once in three beings. I have realized though, especially in the last few years, that the story of Jesus is how I make sense of who God in all three parts is. It is because God could have chosen to be enfleshed in human form in any time and any place and yet God chose to come to Earth during a tumultuous time, born to outcast peasants in a far removed hamlet no one had any interest in. That Jesus sought out those that the world pushed the margins and he uplifted them and celebrated them. He went to the hard places, the rough places.

                So, it is so profound when God refers to Jesus and exclaims, “Listen to him.” It’s  like God is saying, this human is the extension of me on Earth. What he does, who he uplifts, who he loves, that is who I uplift and love. He is the manifestation of my promise and my love for all of you. Do what he says and emulate what he does. Throughout his life, death, and resurrection, we are reminded that Jesus is with us, and as Jesus meets us, so too, do we meet Jesus in this transfiguration. As he is transfigured, we are too. And the beautiful thing is that this doesn’t have to be a one time occurrence, we get to transfigure ourselves back to Christ and to his teachings of love and kindness over and over again. Even if and when we fall short in that call, God’s grace is still abundantly given to us.

                A kind of fun fact about me is that I have a deep love and fascination with the Chrstian mystics. There is something about how throughout time and space, we share a yearning for an experience with God like prominent mystics such as Augustine, Hildegard von Bingen, the big names, if you will, of Christian mysticism. Like this clear example of God overtly calling out and recognizing Jesus, the mystics and so many others have sought meaningful and transcendent relationships with God throughout time and space. One of my favorite historical Christian mystics, though, is Teresa of Avila. Teresa was a Carmelite nun and a prominent Catholic mystic in the mid 1500s so during the time of the Protestant Reformation, and she is in many ways a symbol of rebirth and renewal as she reformed the Carmelite order for both men and women. She spent much of her life founding and restoring convents and monasteries which often were the only way that girls and women could receive any kind of more formalized education. One of my favorite Christian readings of all time was written by Teresa and it is titled, “Christ has no Body. It goes,

“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.

                In the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America, of which Faith Lilac Way is a part of, we proudly and boldly proclaim, “God’s work, our hands” which is beautifully synonymous with this writing from Teresa. Jesus is not here physically with us to tell us what to do or to show us where to prioritize our time. He is not standing here in front of the alter with the heavens opening above him and the voice of God telling us point blank, “this is my Son. Listen to him.” But, thanks to the authors of Luke where today’s gospel lesson comes from and the rest of the synoptic gospels, we are shown who Jesus uplifts when the world does not. Jesus shows us where he would be if he were physically here on Earth. It would be with the poor, those who are grieving, those who are doubting, those who are frightened. And, because Jesus is not here in person to do it, we are left to be the hands and feet of Christ in his physical absence.

                I know I do not have to tell you how hard it can be to listen for God’s voice amidst the noise and tumultuousness of our current world. In a time of intense polarization, of heated discourse, of fear and doubt and anger and confusion and feelings of helplessness, it can be so overwhelming, so noisy that we can wonder where God’s voice is in the midst of it all. We are here to be Christ’s hands and feet and to do God’s work here on Earth. And each day, we are able, by God’s grace to re orient ourselves back to Jesus’ example. To do our best to push out the noise and distractions to transfigure us back to Christ’s teachings.

                In my study of the Christian mystics, I am struck by the similarities I see in those ancient practices and with a more modern pentecostal or born again Christian theology. And truthfully, as mainline Protestants, I think there is a thing or two we could learn. Both the mystics and the more modern born again Christian theology seek communion and profound experiences with God. They both yearn for enlightenment and fortitude. As Lutherans, we get to celebrate that through grace and the promise of our baptism we get to be born anew each time we remember our baptism. Over and over again, we are always being made new and it is never too late to re orient, to trasfigure ourselves back to God. That just as Jesus casts out the demon in today’s gospel story, we are continually called to cast out our own demons. These demons are the things of the world that pull us from God and from God’s call to love our neighbor as ourselves, and not just our neighbors who are very alike to us but those who could not be more different from us. The demons that make us dwell in anger and malice, the demons that allow us to look away in the face of our neighbor’s suffering.

                ELCA Presiding Bishop, Elizabeth Eaton, shared the following message this week on her public instagram profile, and I think it is very fitting to today’s subject of our shared transfiguration back to Christ. She says:

Many in our pews and communities are suffering in silence, wondering if anyone notices, if anyone cares. I want to encourage all of us, our entire church, to bear one another’s burdens. Take a moment to check in on one another. We cannot presume our friends and neighbors are ok. I am reminded of the words of Isaiah when God says, “Do not fear for I am with you. Do not be afraid for I am your God.” We are not alone. We are the body of Christ called to bear one another’s burdens. To be present, to listen, to love. We may not know what tomorrow brings but we have each other, and we have the promise of a god who meets us in our fear, who walks with us in our struggles, and who calls us to be beacons of hope. So church, let’s show up for one another at home and in our communities. Let us remind the world that God’s promise, a promise of love, calls us together and moves us to action. Be well, dear church.

Amen