Fearlessly Sent

Texts: Psalm 23,  Mark 6:30-34, 53-56     

Prayer of the Day: Shepherding God, you call us into a rhythm of work and rest that our lives may be better for it. So shape our leisure and our labor that the world will recognize us as Jesus disciples and our ministry as what you would have us do. Amen.

Grace and Peace to you from the God who believes in you, and sends you into the world.

On a beautiful fall day in Issaquah, Washington I stood on a Maple leaf with both feet – and to my surprise and delight I could still see the leaf! My feet are size 7 which is not too small, but In that moment, standing on that large leaf in Surrounded by the Olympic mountains I felt really Small and Insignificant in a really Big world.

At 22 years old I wondered IF my life mattered. Maybe its more accurate to say I wondered HOW my little life might matter in this BIG WORLD? 

In a biology class I learned about the inter-related and inter-dependent nature of all of life which was like a beautiful spider web of connection which existed within my human Body AND among other species in all kinds of Environments.  

On this day, I was Pondering my life path and Wondering where was my Niche in the Web of Life? What should I do for a career? My Lutheran faith weighed in with its own question: What work had God uniquely created me to do that I had not yet discovered or claimed as my vocation? 

Sonja, My first roommate in college said that she knew at the age of 5 that she wanted to be a doctor, specifically, a surgeon. I was astonished at the clarity of her conviction. By comparison, my life seemed to unfold in a series of happy and sometimes unhappy events and relationships that seemed kind of random, but somehow flowed from one to another.  I sensed a deep goodness in my somewhat random life, even as I envied the direct clarity in career path of my roommate.  

Psalm 23 talks about being led by a Shepherd God on paths ~even where there is no visible path, through green pastures and dark valleys, with surprising banquets of nourishment when surrounded by enemies; that life flows as living water, through all life’s twists and turns, full of the goodness and mercy of God.   

I wonder if the apostles in today’s gospel reading experienced a kind of shepherding presence and over flowing goodness in life as they traveled in pairs throughout the wilderness without Jesus at their side? I wonder if they discovered in themselves and in their partners, skills and knowledge they had no idea was within them?

When the apostles returned from their travels, they gathered around Jesus to share “all they had done and taught” (Mark 6:30). I imagine them learning from one another and laughing together. I wonder if they discovered in themselves and in each other well springs of living water that refreshed their weary bodies, and a comfort in each other’s presence that restored their souls? I wonder if in their conversation they discovered different ways their simple words and actions had healing effects for the people they encountered~ healing they could not have imagined possible? I wonder if a sort of cosmic web of connection was being spun among them, Each apostle’s story as a connecting thread knitting them together, creating connections of collegiality, friendship, admiration; becoming courageous together.

I wonder if they only told their success stories? Or if they told their stories of failure too? I wonder who might have been the first one to muster up the courage to go first in sharing a struggle or failure from their journey? I believe someone must have dared to share their struggle because we see and experience evidence of that trajectory today:  that sharing our struggles, and bearing one another’s burdens is some of the best healing work we do as church for one another and in the world.

Psalm 23 bears witness to the presence of God in times of struggle in this way: “though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…I will fear no evil, for you are with me” (Ps 23:4). The psalmist proclaims to you and me that we are not alone amid life’s struggles. There is a SHEPHERDing God who cares for you and for me and God has placed us together in a Forgiven and Forgiving Flock. We grow in faith as we TRUST that we are not alone in any moment. As an apostolic church, sent by God we are emboldened to pray:  

“O God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown. Give us faith to go out with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us; through Jesus Christ our Lord”. (ELW Evening Prayer)

I wonder as the apostles shared their successes and struggles if they were becoming fearless in ways they had not known themselves to be fearful before Jesus sent them out?  I imagine in the conversation they reflected on what happened as they faced what was unknown and uncertain – like, how did they know which way to go in the sprawling wilderness before them? And Who could they trust would provide food and shelter on their journey? Jesus sent them with no provisions of their own. They were utterly vulnerable. Jesus sent them out to rely on the kindness of strangers.  I imagine Jesus believed in the apostles as much or more than the apostles believed in Jesus. Jesus fearlessly sent the apostles into the world, reminding them, do not fear. 

I wonder if the apostles felt led and provided for in some divine way, like the Psalmist described – as if somehow Jesus was with them: nudging them in the direction to go, giving them knowledge and skill to meet the overwhelming needs of people surrounding them, and having their own needs met by the kindness of strangers and enemies.  I wonder, How has God guided and provided for you in life?  

When I was growing up, my family would share about the struggles and successes of the day around the kitchen table at dinner time. Mom and Dad would ask us how was our day – and each of us would tell about our classes in school, music lessons and sports teams, the drama and adventure of our friend groups. Mom and Dad would share about their day, about extended family and current events. We wondered together about paths untrodden too – what would we do when we grew up? Where is the world headed? At the kitchen table we were fed not only by the food we shared but also in the conversation and reflections of each member of our family. The kitchen table was a place of rest and refreshment from the busy-ness of each day.   

In the midst of all the going and doing, Jesus invites the apostles to “come away and rest awhile” returning them and us to the divine rhythm of God in creation who also created rest and God rested, reflecting on all that is good in creation.

I wonder if resting in God’s presence with one another can make us fearless to do the work God calls us to do? When I rest, I notice my breathing gets fuller, and my body expands in a sense of gratitude for the goodness of life, even amidst the struggles and challenges. In this place of rest and deep gratitude new ideas come to mind. Ideas about adventures or solutions to problems that had stumped me. It is almost as if these ideas emerge like a green blade rising out of that place of rest of buried grain of worry and struggle.

I wonder if Jesus is training us as the apostolic church, sent into the world, to be fearless:  To trust God’s goodness and mercy to follow us – actually PURSUE us even in the fiercest and most fearful moments in life?

I wonder what it would be like to be fearless church?  For that seems to be the gospel invitation, in following Christ who equips and sends us (you and me) into the world to discover the ways our skills and abilities our very being contributes to the healing of our neighbors and the world we live in. what if we knew ourselves to be powerful in ways we have not yet imagined or discovered? What could we try, who might we become, fearlessly trusting God to lead and guide us?

 In a letter to the early Christian church, the writer of Thessalonians proclaimed:

“The one who calls you is faithful and he will do this.” (1 Thessalonians 5:24).    

And may the peace of Christ that passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds fearless in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

- Pastor Gretchen Pierskalla

Chosen – Every Time Ephesians 1:3-14

I love comedies, even the ones that I think are brilliant but actually flop at the box office. About ten years ago, a film called “The Guilt Trip” came out about an overbearing Jewish mother played by Barbara Streisand and her son played by Seth Rogen, as they embark on an unexpected cross-county road trip together, getting on one another’s nerves but also growing in the process.

 At one poignant moment in the movie, Streisand turns to the son, an organic chemist, and blesses him with these words: “Just remember one thing,” she says. “If all the little boys in the world were lined up, and I could only pick one to be my son, I would pick you…every time.”

 To be chosen, every time. After all these years, I still hold on to these words of fierce, motherly love. What would the world be like if each and every one of us knew we were claimed by a love like this?

 Years ago, as I looked down upon my own babies and finally understood the depths of loving another, I often wondered: if I am capable of this kind of love, how much more must God love them? How much more must God love me? How much more must God love us?

 The writer of Ephesians, perhaps the apostle Paul writing from prison or one of Paul’s later followers, in one, long, tumbling Greek sentence helps to answer this question.

 The message to early believers, at its core, is, “You, too!”[1] “You, too, belong in Christ’s family!” “Indeed, you are chosen…every time!”

 Imagine Jews and Gentiles of the ancient world, hearing these affirming words of the early church, each in their own contexts and with their own particularities, being invited and included into this new movement of God to bring all people into unity under Christ.

 You, too. In Christ, you are chosen, every time.

 This is a hard concept for many of us, me included, to accept. Culturally, we are hard-wired to believe we need to do something or be something to deserve love. We live in a world where being chosen for something tends to mean more about our individual selves – something we have, or have done, or have achieved – rather than about the one who chooses us.

 ·         A teenager gets chosen for an elite hockey team because of her skill, her hard work, and her command performance during tryouts.

·         A wealthy investor is chosen to be president of a board because of his access to capital and his connections to influential people.

·         A kindergartener is chosen to be the lead in the school play because of his outgoing nature and obvious talent.

  We are used to associating being chosen with some special quality we have or something special we have done! But in the many stories of God choosing people in the Bible – whether it is Miriam, Abraham, Sarah, Deborah, David, Jeremiah, Esther, Peter, or Paul– the way God goes about choosing people is fundamentally different. Almost always, God chooses people not for their faultless characters, nor their accomplishments, nor their potential, but because they are open to the witness of God.[2] Because they are open to the blessings that God bestows.

 And so, when God chooses Moses for important work, Moses cries, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” (Exodus 3:11) When the angel Gabriel comes to Zechariah with news that Elizabeth would bear a son, he exclaims, “How will I know that his is so? I am an old man, and my wife is getting on in years!” (Luke 1:18) And when God chooses Mary to be the very mother of Jesus, she asked, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” (Luke 1:34) We might also wonder, how can this be, O God, that I would be chosen by you, that you could use me, exactly as I stand before you now?

 But in Christ, the math we have internalized to organize our lives and judge our worthiness no longer adds up. That God knows us and loves us and adopts us as children is about what God did before the world was even created, and not about anything we could do to micro-manage our way into God’s grace. One translation of Ephesians helps to focus our attention away from ourselves and towards God. It reads: “How blessed is God! What a blessing God is! Long before God laid down earth’s foundations, God had us in mind, had settled on us as the focus of his love, to be made whole and holy by his love. Long, long ago God decided to adopt us into God’s family through Jesus Christ. (What pleasure God took in planning this!)” (Ephesians 1:3-6, The Message)

 It’s not about us, it never was. It is about the blessings of God. And together, we have always been included. We have always been loved. We have always been chosen, every single time.

 As Christians and Lutherans, we mark our adoption into this new life in Jesus Christ in the sacrament of Baptism. Baptism is a tangible and powerful testimony to the spiritual blessings God lavishes upon us, freely and unfailingly -- these same blessings that pour out of our text today -- riches of redemption, forgiveness, grace, and the inheritance of eternal life. When we reaffirm our baptisms, we are reaffirming the life-giving promises God makes to us, in community. We are reminding ourselves that we are chosen by God, every time, to be a blessing to others. We are reminding ourselves that we are chosen by God, every time, to open ourselves up to the witness to Christ in the world.

 In this way, Baptism is not so much about who is in and who is out. It is not really about where we stand as individuals. It is about praising God with our whole heart as a community for the awesome gift of being known and belonging to Christ, exactly as we are. It is about receiving this gift and letting it work its way into our hearts, as individuals and as a community. It is about believing in our own belonging so much that we can lavish the gift of belonging on those around us who do not know.

 I think this ancient letter to the Ephesians, written so long ago, might remind us in important ways to put God back in the center of things. It challenges us to be a people who return, in all that we do, to blessing God – for it is God, and not the works of our hands or hearts, who blesses us with every abundance, on earth as it is in heaven. 

 All praise and honor be to the One who chooses me, and you, and us all, every time.

 Amen.

[1] I owe this insight to a commentary on the text by William Loader, accessed at: https://billloader.com/lectionaryindex.html

[2] I owe this insight to a reading of Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditation from the Center for Action and Contemplation for Friday, July 2, 2021, accessed here: https://cac.org/category/daily-meditations/

Word of God, Word of Life

“Bridges don’t just collapse in Minnesota.” That’s what I remember an official exclaiming after the 35W bridge collapse on August 1, 2007.  You probably remember where you were when the bridge collapsed and fell into the river. You also probably remember how many times you and your loved ones crossed that bridge without a thought or care in the world. How could this bridge just collapse in the middle of the day, killing 13 people and injuring over 100 others? I have to admit that at the time, I wondered if foul play was involved. And yet… as investigators later discovered, a mistake in the bridge’s construction 40 years earlier caused the collapse. A gusset plate was too thin.

 Preliminary reports suggest that a similar structural error – or maybe deferred maintenance -- caused the terrible collapse of the Florida condo building in June. Unfortunately, this time the disaster happened in the middle of the night when people were sleeping – caught completely unawares. We still do not know how many people died that night. 

 What can we depend on when the very ground beneath our feet starts to shake? Whom can we trust when our health, our work, our security, everything that we thought we could count on - fails?

 Paul turned to God.  He prayed. He prayed because he was hurting and was confident that God could solve this problem. After all, he was chosen by Jesus to bring the message of Good News to the Gentiles. He had been transformed by Christ. He doesn’t want to boast but clearly he was a powerful preacher, a strong teacher and an amazing missionary to the world. Why wouldn’t God answer his prayer?

 But God was silent. So Paul prayed again and again for God to take away this pain – he called it a thorn in his side, a messenger from Satan. We don’t know what it was – maybe it was a health issue or a physical pain, or maybe even a person who was undermining his work. But whatever this thorn was, it was painful and Paul begged the Lord to take it away.

 But instead of healing him, Paul received this message from the Lord, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness."

 It wasn’t the answer that Paul wanted to hear. It’s not the message I like to hear either. We want to be strong. We want to feel powerful. We don’t like being vulnerable or weak or dependent.  But this is the message that Paul – and we – need to hear.

 Paul learned – rather painfully-- that he was strongest – not when he relied on his great oratory powers or his own persuasiveness, but rather when he leaned upon the grace of God and let the power of God shine through him. And so are we.

 It’s not an easy answer. We want to be strong, independent and powerful. But God’s response to Paul – and I dare say to us -- is: "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness."

 I know this may seem like a funny message for the 4th of July. This is a day for celebration! This is a day in which I, for one, give thanks to God that I live in a country that is free – free for me and you to speak, to pray, to love, and to vote.

 I recognize that if I had lived a hundred years ago in this country -  I would not be able to preach to you. I would not be able to vote. I also recognize that people in other countries do not have the freedoms that you and I have – and that we sometimes take for granted. Freedom is a gift to not only be treasured but it is a gift to share. For you and I are most free when everyone else is free too.

 So let us celebrate the gift of freedom.  But let us not only celebrate freedom and advocate for others to have freedom too, but let us also remember that the freedom of a Christian is made perfect – not in human power and might -- but in Christ. And, our freedom, as Christians, is focused not on ourselves but on our neighbor. As Luther says, we are free to love and serve our neighbor.

 Like Paul, we are strongest when we realize that our own power or strength or wisdom is not sufficient. We are most powerful when we are vulnerable and depend upon God’s power and not our own. So when you are feeling weak and helpless, rest in the assurance of these words "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness." For when we lean into God’s grace and mercy, that is when we are our best selves. 

 Today, let us give thanks to God for the freedom we enjoy and the blessings we can share. But let us even more give thanks for God’s love which knows no bounds and God’s grace which makes us whole.

 July 4, 2021          Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran Church      Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

The Healing that Knows No Boundaries

A few years ago, I was walking up the stairs, when I locked eyes with a female colleague who was passing. For some reason, I could tell she wasn’t okay, and I asked her what was wrong. She burst into tears, saying “my body won’t stop bleeding and I don’t know what else to do.” I saw in her eyes the physical pain she was experiencing, her fear and anxiety over not being able to control what was happening to her body, and even her shame and embarrassment as she accepted my help gathering her things and getting to care.

As I read our rich Gospel story about the woman who hemorrhaged for twelve years and sought out Jesus, I am reminded of this image. I am reminded that whether we are male or female, at some point in our lives, the “bleeding woman” will be us. At some point in our lives, we all need help and healing. At some point in our lives, we all experience illness, addiction, or disconnection from our mind, body, or spirit. At some point in our lives, we all experience shame and guilt for things we have done and things we have left undone. At some point in our lives, like the bleeding woman deemed “unclean”, we will feel anonymous, or unworthy of love and abundant life. Even if we can’t relate to this feeling of “bleeding” now, someone we know, someone we love, surely has. And when this happens, we “bleed” with them.

Oh sometimes, we try to fix ourselves up to stop the bleeding. Sometimes, we try to fix others up. Sometimes, our efforts work, and sometimes they don’t. In the case of the bleeding woman, we know that she had done all she could with her own resources: our story tells us that she visited a great many doctors and spent all the money she had. But she was no better; in fact, she was worse. Things had gotten so bad, that she had but one option remaining. She had one giant leap of faith to make. Even in her shame and disgrace, she would burrow her way into that crowd that pressed upon Jesus, and reach out to touch the fringe of Jesus’ cloak.    

There were so many reasons, cultural and otherwise, why this story should not have played out the way it did:

·       The perpetually bleeding woman was outcast from the temple and society,  

·       Jesus, a man, should never have been in contact with her “unclean” body,

·       The crowd was swarming upon Jesus for his attention,

·       And yet, the woman’s faith, or her leap of faith, propelled her forward, and…

One touch was all it took. One touch—with the faith that had been given to her – was all she needed to heal. One moment of divine contact. One miracle, not even initiated by Jesus, stopped her hemorrhage, returned her to wholeness, and revealed the truth of her life.

Jesus’ healing presence – the way he points to abundant life, and thriving, and saving – knows no boundaries.

This morning, we will all be invited to meet this same grace and healing power of Jesus shared with us in the Eucharist. Perhaps, for us, the act of electing to receive the body and the blood of Christ is not unlike the agency of the bleeding woman who reaches out to touch the fringe of Jesus’ cloak. Every week, it is an act of faith to receive this gift given to us freely from God, and to believe, to really believe, that God is saying “YES” to you. Is it not an act of faith to believe that no matter however you come this morning – hurting, worried, grieving, joyful, expectant – God says in this bread and in this wine that you are loved beyond measure for being everything that you are, that you are fed and forgiven, reconciled in Christ? Is it not an act of faith to believe that God says go forth from this meal and be liberated by Christ, for you have beautiful gifts to share?

This kind of heart knowledge is the pearl of healing. It comes to you simply because you trust in a good and gracious God, creator of all things, who sent Jesus into the world to live and die and rise, thus teaching us what God was all about. In the healing words of Romans 8:39, now nothing will separate you from the love of God in Christ Jesus.

This is the kind of love that knows no boundaries. This is the kind of love that plays no favorites. This is the kind of love that looks upon the woman who bleads and says yes. This is the kind of love that looks upon the orphan and the refugee and says yes. This is the kind of love that looks upon the convict, and then towards the billionaire, and says yes. This love says yes to the one who can’t be bothered, and to the addict, and to the man who feels much, but cannot cry.

This love, this healing power of Jesus, knows no boundaries. This love simply says yes.

And lest we fear that those we love who do not express their faith in the same way we do will be deprived of the love of God, our Gospel today provides yet another example of how to help others touch the cloak of Jesus.

And that is simply to believe in them fervently, no matter what: to believe in their worthiness of love, in their worthiness of life, and in their worthiness of health the same way that God does. Without boundaries.

This is the kind of fervent belief in God’s unconditional love that leads Jairus, the other character in our Gospel story this morning, to pursue Jesus and healing for his daughter with every last hope, even though his daughter had already been proclaimed dead.

“Talitha, cum,” Jesus says to his dead daughter, which means in Aramaic, “Little girl, get up.” And immediately, she did, getting up to walk about as if nothing had happened.

Oh, what we wouldn’t give to see Jesus show up on the spot in the midst of tragedy and say to those we have lost in death, “You, Beloved Child of God, get up!” Would we not rejoice and sing with the Psalmist: “You have tuned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy!” (Psalm 30:11)

And yet, is not another miracle our belief that Jesus’ healing touch transcends each and every boundary we create for one another, including and up to the clearest and most significant boundary we experience as humans, that being death. Our Gospel tells us that Jesus has failed to heal someone in time, he has the power to raise her, to draw her up.

This week, let this miraculous news sink deep into your bones. Jesus’ healing touch knows no boundaries, even in death. The power of God simply refuses to be contained. Let us imagine what is beyond imagination: the embrace of the Gospel of Jesus – an embrace is too deep and too wide to leave anyone on the outs.  

 Will you pray with me?[1] 

Dear Jesus, we are just like the father Jairus who loved and believed in his daughter to the end. And at times, we bleed like the woman who suffered and felt cut off from God and from relationships with others. We want to touch you with the faith you give us. We want to touch others with your love that knows no boundaries. Help us and heal us. In your most blessed name we pray, Amen.

[1] Adapted from a prayer written by Anne Osdieck, and posted on The Sunday Website of St. Louis University. http://liturgy.slu.edu.

Awe and Wonder

Flooding in Texas. Hurricane season on the coast. Tornadoes, wind and rain. We know storms –storms that swamp boats or wash out homes and take down powerlines, storms that can send wind, rain, snow and tornadoes, storms that demolish everything in their path, storms that can threaten our lives. We know storms.

The disciples, being fishermen were no strangers to storms either. The sea of Galilee is only about the size of Lake Minnetonka, but because it is nestled like a bowl between the Galilean hills and Golan Heights, if the wind comes over the Heights and drops into the sea, a storm can erupt suddenly – even today.

So maybe because they knew the power of this storm or maybe because they knew that their little boat could not take on any more water and stay afloat, they became afraid. They might also have been angry that while they were working, trying to keep the boat from sinking, Jesus was sleeping on a pillow. But whether out of fear or anger, desperation or despair, they cried out to Jesus, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” 

Not their best words. But then… which of us are at our best when we are afraid, when we are at the end of our rope? Which of us are our best selves when we wonder… where is GOD? Doesn’t God care? Is God asleep?

In the Gospel story, Jesus actually was sleeping. But he heard the cry for help – maybe it was really a form of prayer - from his followers. Our reading says, He woke. But I like another translation better – he arose. In other words, he got up and responded. He proclaimed to the chaos “Peace. Be still.” And it was still. 

They knew storms. But at this moment they realized… they did not know Jesus.  And at this was the moment, the disciples went from fear to awe and from certainty of their fate “we will perish” to the beginnings of faith, starting with their questions, wondering who is this Jesus? But they wouldn’t have gotten there without the storm.

We know storms – and have experienced lots of storms this past year – not only thunderstorms, hurricanes, and tornadoes, but also “storms” of a different sort.  The pandemic affected us all – not equally – but in one way or another. There have also been storms on our streets – protests against injustice, but also riots and blockading of streets. And like the disciples, we and countless others have prayed to God for relief from this virus, for health and healing for our nation, our community and for the world.

And just as Jesus heard the cries of his disciples, Jesus hears and answers our cries and our pleas too. The coronavirus reports are improving. We are able to be back together for worship, for gatherings of family and friends and even for weddings and funerals. Oh it isn’t according to our timeline or our plan or the virus and the protests would be all wrapped up and we would be back to “normal.” But just as the disciples were not “back to normal” after the storm – we can’t be either.

While it is tempting to try to just put the pandemic and the protests behind us and move on, like the disciples, we can only learn from the storm – if we take a little time to reflect. You can’t reflect when you are bailing water. But when the boat is still and peace has come – at least for a time – that is the time look at the way that God has been working in the world – even while we were isolating at home.

As I look back on this past year, I have noticed that there are more people in the parks than ever before. And I’ve noticed that when people do gather, there is so much joy just at being together. We gathered a group of kids for VBS out on the lawn this past week and we had so much fun just getting together, learning about God’s word, playing games, making crafts and singing God’s praises. What have you noticed? Where do you see God at work in ways that you did not notice before … maybe in surprising ways?

Another reason why we can’t just go back to “normal” is that while the coronavirus reports are improving – at least in our neighborhoods – it is not better in other parts of the world – and if we have learned anything about a pandemic, the illness of one part of the world affects the health of the whole world. One of our challenges is to learn to live as citizens of the world – rather than just our family, our church, our community, our nation, we need to care for all God’s people.

This is not new. One of the reasons the disciples boat got caught in this big storm was that Jesus had wanted to go over to the “other side” of the lake. That was the place where Gentiles lived and the Israeli people did not go. It was foreign, it was “other.” But Jesus stretched the boundary of who was a part of God’s people. And Jesus is still stretching us.

We are also learning to live with some uncertainty. We don’t know if a variant of the virus will emerge or if we, like India and parts of Europe will have to go back to wearing masks and staying distant from one another. I hope not. But what do we do with this uncertainty? 

I read a story about one man who was seeking clarity.  He had studied ethics and was successful but was facing uncertainty about his future. He decided to go to Calcutta to work with Mother Theresa at “the house of the dying” in an effort to seek a clear answer as to how best to spend the rest of his life.  

On the first morning there he met Mother Teresa. 

She asked, “And what can I do for you?”

“Pray for me,” said the man.

“What do you want me to pray for?” she asked. 

“Pray that I have clarity.”

Mother Theresa looked at him and said firmly, “No, I will not do that.”    

“What? I’ve come to work for you and I’ve travelled thousands of miles seeking clarity and your prayers. I know you pray for others. Why won’t you pray for me?”

Mother Theresa replied: “Clarity is the last thing you are clinging to and must let go of.” 

“But you always seem to have clarity. That’s what I’m longing for.” 

Mother Theresa laughed and said, “I have never had clarity; what I have always had is trust. So I will pray that you trust God.”1

The disciples had less clarity after watching Jesus still the storm. And after the storms that we have been through, we may have less certainty about what our future holds. We are in a liminal space. We can’t go back to the way that things “always were”. Or maybe we can’t go back to what we nostalgically remember as the way things “always were.” The world is always changing. This pandemic storm forced all of us to notice.  We do not know what the future holds.

But this we do know: God is still Lord of heaven and earth and God is still and always will be active in our world and in our neighborhoods. And so, like Mother Theresa prayed for trust for the man who visited her, let us pray that we too may trust God with our future. Let us listen for the ways in which God would have us engage in our neighborhood and with our world. And in the meantime, let us sing God’s praises and stop striving long enough to simply be in awe of God. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen

1~ Story from Sue Miley, Christian therapist in Baton Rouge, LA

Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane                     Faith- Lilac Way                                  June 20, 2021

Stewardship and Mark 4:26-34

Jesus always spoke to the crowds in parables – parables, these seemingly simple, everyday stories about life meant to teach us lessons in unexpected ways. This week, Jesus challenges us to imagine the secret of the kingdom of God. I don’t know about you, but the more I dig into one of Jesus’ parables, the more of a puzzle it becomes. For example, take today’s two short parables about seeds…

·       What are the seeds of God’s Kingdom? Are they our gifts of time, talent, and money that will later be harvested?

·       Why take the time to scatter such valuable seeds on the ground, and then be passive as the seeds sprout and grow?

·       And why, when there were plenty of great and mighty looking trees around, should we picture the kingdom of God…as a shrub?

 One translation of our text today says that Jesus “was never without a parable when he spoke [to the crowds]. [But] when has alone with his disciples, he went over everything, sorting out the tangles, untying the knots.” (The Message, Mark 4:33-34) Don’t you wish you could be alone in private with Jesus, just like one of the disciples, so he could make sense of it all and put all the pieces together?

 But perhaps acknowledging our unease in not knowing the big picture, leads us somewhere important: and that is that we have to trust God. When we scatter our seeds of time, talent, and money on the ground, we can trust that God is always providing a way to grow our seeds into good grain. We can sleep and rise night and day going about our business, and while nobody is looking, God makes our seeds sprout and grow, first the stem, then the bud, then the ripened grain to be harvested, in all in God’s time. We can neither hasten nor delay the work of God.

 This, it turns out, is an important stewardship lesson for me. See, as my husband will attest, I’m a planner and a saver, perhaps some of you are too. I am the one in charge of the finances in our household, and I take great pride in researching our purchases and our giving carefully, and understanding exactly how it fits into my family’s financial plan. When we pledge to the church, I want to understand exactly how our gift of money will be used. What will it produce? How will it impact the bigger picture? Will my giving make a difference to the mission of Christ in the world? As a family, we have always volunteered at church in significant ways, which is of course, a very important type of stewardship. But for me, giving money requires a little more trust. It requires a little more faith that God is in charge of the big picture.

 A beautiful illustration of this kind of trust comes in the story of a partner that Faith-Lilac Way knows very well, Wildfire EveryMeal, the organization that mobilizes the community, at the end of each school week, to put healthy food into backpacks for children in need.

 EveryMeal is now a large organization. They have a website full of information about how they source their food, how communities can get involved, how to contribute, and how much of one’s donation translates into real food for real families in need. They make it easy to see just how your dollars can make a difference.

 But did you know that EveryMeal was born of a small group of Christians from a new church start ,Mill City Church, who asked the Principal of Sheriden School in Northeast Minneapolis if they could begin meeting as a church in their auditorium each week? After months of building a relationship with the school, they asked the school community one question: how can we help? And the answer was provided to them: will you help the hungry kids in our school?

 And the church began, in 2010, by providing one bag of non-perishable food to 27 kindergarteners each weekend. I wonder what those original volunteers and funders thought at the time. Could they, in their wildest dreams, have anticipated how God would be working in and through their seemingly small-scale gifts of time and money and relationships to create what is now a separate nonprofit that has, as of 2021, provided 6 million meals, serving over 10,000 children across 400 locations.

 Seemingly small gifts grow into amazing and significant missions, with God’s help. As Jesus said, “the kingdom of God…is like a mustard seed, which is the smallest of all seeds on earth. Yet when planted, it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds can make nests in its shade.” (Mark 4:30-32) Mill City Church’s work, and the work of all the people and organizations that partnered with them in mission along the way, started small, but grew in ways no one could have anticipated, by the grace of God. Just as the birds make nests in the shade of the mustard shrub, so too are millions of children and their families now finding food security through EveryMeal.  

 But sometimes trusting that our contributions of time, talent, and money are making a real difference is hard. We see our individual contributions, but it is harder to see the big picture, because the big picture is being revealed in God’s time and on God’s terms.

 How many of you have put together more than your fair share of puzzles during the pandemic? Our family certainly has. Now, my question is: have you ever put together a big puzzle without looking at the picture on the box as a guide? It is hard and frustrating!

 You might start by:

·       turning over all the individual pieces;

·       getting all the edge pieces together;

·       grouping pieces by similarities like color, shades, shapes, and texture;

·       picking up patterns, seeing what kind of themes come out;

·       looking for clues and discovering more subtle hints; and

·       taking lots of breaks and coming back at it with a fresh mind and heart for puzzling.

 Maybe this is what discipleship and stewardship in God’s kingdom is like. We all have pieces to lay down the table. They are different sizes, shapes, colors, and textures to be sure. But they are all absolutely necessary to the big picture, the completed puzzle. As we are giving our individual pieces, laying them down, fitting them together, our faith is engaged and our hearts are changed, but we often cannot see exactly what God is doing in our midst. We can’t always see what the final form of the puzzle will be.

 But the Good News is this: God puts our pieces together. God uses each and every gift we offer to the church and puts them together with a power beyond our understanding.

 And when we trust that God is active in the world, that frees us:

·       to give joyfully;

·       to say “yes” to following the Spirit’s lead;

·       to co-create something important with God; and, yes

·       to be held in suspense as we marvel at the way God works to revitalize our mission and ministry.

 Thanks to all of you for the beautiful gifts each one of you have to contribute to the witness of Jesus Christ, in this faith community, and in the world. And thanks be to God, for it is God who puts all our pieces together. Amen.

You're Family

Do you remember who taught you how to ride a bike? How to write your name and tie your shoes? How to drive? How to cook? How to pray? Odds are that you were taught some – or all of these things by a member of your family.

 Families are important. Jesus knew it too. “Honor your Father and your mother” is in the ten commandments after all. So in today’s Gospel, it seems odd that Jesus doesn’t respond to his mother and his brothers when they call for him.

 It’s only the 3rd chapter of Mark’s Gospel, but already Jesus has been teaching, healing people (even on the sabbath), forgiving sins and proclaiming Good News to people who were considered unclean and unworthy. He was challenging “the way things always were.” Those in power – including the scribes – wanted him to stop. But instead of engaging Jesus as a rabbi, they started telling lies about Jesus and tried to shame his family.

 Families are important now, but in Jesus’ day, your family was your life, your reputation, your honor. The commandment to honor your father and mother was held in such regard that anything that you did that was considered bad or wrong – reflected shame on them.  And, any perceived disrespect to your parents or family was an affront worthy of being disowned.

 Jesus still takes care of his mother – remember, he asked his disciple John to care for his mother while he was hanging on the cross. But does not follow the dictates of the shame and blame rules of the culture nor does he let even his mother or his family come between him and his mission from God to save the whole world.

 Turning to those who are surrounding him, listening with open ears, Jesus says, “Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.” Jesus expands his family beyond the traditional boundaries of blood and marriage, of race, nationality, creed, gender or any other humanly defined division. What had been an exclusive relationship with the people of Israel was now opened up to all people.

 People then – and now -- are quick to find the differences between us. We are taught from a young age to sort – “one of these things is not like the others.” We are quick to divide. And that can be a helpful tool, I suppose, when sorting blocks. But it’s not so helpful when it comes to people. Too often, we focus on what divides us and we forget to notice, to remember, what unites us.

 Looking at the people who have gathered to hear his words, without regard for who they are or what they have done or not done, or what their heritage may be, Jesus includes each one and makes them a part of his family. Jesus included despised tax collectors, poor fishermen, women like Mary and Martha, and “sinners” like you and me in his circle. In God’s kingdom, Jesus welcomes and includes all kinds of people.

 I never met Cody. Although he read the Bible, he wasn’t a church-goer. But his mother, Judy, told me a story that I will never forget.

 Cody was a chef so usually worked weekends. But one Friday afternoon, he happened to be off and so he said to his mom, let’s go get an early supper. It was a little too early to eat so they went into the bar. Cody saw a couple of friends there and they started to play darts. After a while, his mom noticed Cody go over to a guy sitting by himself at the bar. They chatted a bit and then Cody came over to her and said, “Mom, mind if Jeff joins us?” Of course not, she said, “Any friend of yours is a friend of mine.”

 After the dart game was over, Cody invited Jeff join them in the next round of darts. But Jeff hung his head and said, “I can’t. I can barely afford the beer I’m drinking. I should go.”

 Cody said to him, “No, I want you to play with us. Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” Jeff turned to Judy and she encouraged him, “Go on. If he says he’s got you, he means it.”

 They spent the afternoon playing darts and then ordered food for themselves and Jeff. As they were walking out, Judy asked her son, “How long have you known Jeff?” Cody replied, “Oh. A couple of hours.”

 Like Jesus, Cody knew how to include others. He had the gift of seeing people, regardless of who they were -- as a friend he hadn’t yet met. Even … or maybe especially… if they were down on their luck. Cody had the gift of knowing how to include others. Unfortunately, Cody did not know how to extend the grace that he freely extended to others – to himself. Like his new friend, Cody was also experiencing some really hard times. But unfortunately, whether it was depression or demons of another sort, Cody did not have ears to hear Jesus saying, “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” Instead, Cody took his life this past winter.

 Cody is in God’s tender care now.

 But you and I are still on our journey. That journey is not always easy and it is not without challenges. But let me remind you – in case you have forgotten -- that you, as a baptized child of God, have been named and claimed as a Child of God, a brother or sister, a sibling of Christ Jesus. You belong to Christ. Jesus has said to you, “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” 

When I think about Cody, I wonder – how can I, how can we as a community of Christ, reach out a hand of welcome to people like Cody? How do we include people like Jeff? How do we include people who either do not know the Good news of Christ or who have been told for one reason or another that they do not belong?

 This is our challenge, as people in God’s family. It’s easier to point out all the differences between us. But Jesus claims you and me and our neighbor across the street and across the world all as a beloved part of his family and he invites us to do the same.

 It isn’t always easy. There’s no guarantee that we will always agree with or even like our brothers and sisters of Christ. And yet, Jesus has made us siblings of one another. And so I proclaim to you the words of the Psalmist to “ put your hope in the Lord, for with the Lord is unfailing love and with God is full redemption.” After all. There is no reason to worry. For Jesus says to you and to all of God’s children, his siblings: “I’ve got you.” Thanks be to God. Amen.

Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran Church   June 6, 2021   Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

The Holy Trinity

The Gospel according to John, the 3rd Chapter: John 3:1-17

Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. He came to Jesus by night and said to him, "Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God."

Jesus answered him, "Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above."

Nicodemus said to him, "How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother's womb and be born?"

Jesus answered, "Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not be astonished that I said to you, 'You must be born from above.' The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit." Nicodemus said to him, "How can these things be?"

Jesus answered him, "Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things? "Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen; yet you do not receive our testimony. If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.

 "For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. "Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.

Holy Trinity: God as Father, Son, Spirit; Creator, Redeemer, Advocate

The word “Trinity” isn’t in the Bible. So why do we devote a Sunday every year to it?  Is “Trinity” a helpful way to think about God? Does naming God as Father, Son and Holy Spirit or as Creator, Redeemer and Advocate affect the way we think about or interact with God?

 Those are some of the questions that I had as I began thinking about this day and what I wanted to say to you. It is true that theologians came up with the term “Trinity” to try to not explain God, but as a way to talk about what we, as Christians believe.

 The disciples and the church leaders had a quandry. They were Jewish and believed in ONE God. That was the signature difference between Jewish people and all of the other religions of the day. The proclamation in Deuteronomy “Hear, O Israel: The Lord is our God, the Lord alone”Deut. 6:4 distinguished their faith from other faiths. And they still believed this.

 But, after the resurrection and after Pentecost, they also believed that Jesus was Lord and that the Spirit was Lord and that the one Jesus called Abba was Lord. So you can see why other people would say, “It looks like you have three gods.”

 One of the scriptures that theologians turned to in order to try to explain what they had come to believe and yet could not comprehend is our Gospel for today.

 Nicodemus is having a problem trying to figure out who Jesus is and what his teaching means. Sometimes when I have read this text, I have been pretty judgmental about Nicodemus’ character and skeptical of his intentions. What kind of a leader would sneak around and come in the dark of night? But this time as I read the Gospel, I saw Nicodemus differently. He was curious and wanted to know more – maybe he even wanted to believe but was afraid to ask in front of the others And yet, despite his fears, he found a way to come to see Jesus. It could be that the Holy Spirit was tugging on his robe. But Jesus doesn’t give him any “answers.” Instead, Jesus completely baffles him, and rather than giving him understanding, gives him even more questions until all Nicodemus can say is, “How can this be?”

 Like Nicodemus, we too seek understanding. Sometimes we wonder, “How can this be?” And yet, unlike Nicodemus, we have the benefit of seeing these events in the light of the resurrection and Pentecost.

 We can hear in Jesus’ teaching that the Spirit is like the wind – it goes where it will. It is a mystery that cannot be contained, or controlled or reduced to an orderly systematic accounting.

 Our understanding of God cannot be contained either. And this is why, when we talk about God, we need to use lots of images, not just one. We can pray to God as Abba, Father, and to God as a mother hen. We see the Holy Spirit as an advocate, as a comforter, as a guide. After all, Jesus uses lots of metaphors – using concrete images such as “I am the Good shepherd, I am the light of the world” and “I am the door”. He also speaks of himself using words that express ideas such as: “resurrection,” “truth” and “life.”

 Theologians chose the symbol of a triangle and the word “Trinity” to express the interconnected unity and the relationship between God the Son and God the Father and God the Holy Spirit.

 This relationship is a model for what God wants for us. For while we cannot understand the mystery of God, one thing that God wants us to know is that God wants a relationship with us – with you and with you and with you.

 At the end of his conversation with Nicodemus, Jesus makes a profound statement about who God is and what God wants.

 First, Jesus says, God loves the world. God loves the “world” -- which in the Gospel of John doesn’t mean the beautiful creation or only believers but instead includes the whole “God-hating world.” God loves – no matter what.

 Secondly, Jesus tells Nicodemus and all of us why he came. He, the Son of God, came so that we may have life forever.

 Third, Jesus clarifies that his job is not to condemn but rather to save you and you  and you and the whole God-hating world too.

 We don’t know if Nicodemus heard this last statement, but something happened to Nicodemus that night. He shows up later in John’s Gospel when he urges his fellow Pharisees not to condemn Jesus without at least a trial. And then at the foot of the cross, we see a bolder Nicodemus bringing a hundred pounds of spices to wrap around Jesus’ body before he, with Joseph of Arimathea, buries Jesus in the tomb. What a transformation! What changed Nicodemus? Was it rereading the scriptures? Was it hearing Jesus’ teaching? Was it the nudging of the Holy Spirit? However it happened, it is clear that God did not give up on Nicodemus that night.

 And God does not give up on you or on me or on anyone else in this whole God-hating world. Instead, God comes to us seeking relationship, seeking connection.

 As Martin Luther wrote in the Small Catechism, God the Holy Spirit calls, gathers, and enlightens me – and each of you – seeking to sanctify, to restore and renew and make whole – our relationship with God. This is Good News. The Holy Trinity – GOD – who is our Creator, Redeemer and Advocate, not only loves you but wants to be in relationship with you and me and each and every person. We may wonder with Nicodemus, “How can this be?” It’s a mystery for us. But thanks be to God, Jesus came to make it so. Amen.

Love

It’s All About Love…

Every week or two I get a little ping on my phone - and I am rewarded with pictures of my friend’s grandson. He is adorable - and so are the pictures of him with his mom and dad. I especially loved the pictures of them at the airport.  You see, the dad is from Spain - but has a green card to work here. In the years before covid, they were married - with a celebration in both countries, traveling back and forth fairly easily.

 But, last fall, when they visited his huge extended family in Spain with their new baby, they discovered that the dad could not return to the US with his family because of Covid restrictions and some confusion about his green card. They were upset, frustrated and anxious but… then they got to work to find a way. It is amazing what people will do because of love. It took three months of working through bureaucratic paperwork, lots of covid testing and five flights but finally he was able to get on a plane to Minneapolis. The pictures at the airport were pictures filled with love — and relief.

 John 3:16. It’s about love too. It’s about God’s love. Many of you have probably memorized this verse by “heart” in one translation or another. My Sunday school teacher taught me this version: “For God so loved the world that He gave his only begotten son that whosoever believeth in him should not perish but have everlasting life.”  It’s a great verse to memorize. Martin Luther called it the Gospel in a nutshell. It tells the Good News about Jesus - and when you have it memorized - it sticks with you - in your heart and for your life — especially in those days when you need it most.

 But sometimes - after we have repeated a scripture or anything really again and again, it loses its “punch” and we stop listening. When this happens to me, I sometimes try reading the scripture in different translation for a different insight.

 I’ve been thinking about translations a lot lately. I’m taking a beginners class in German and am reminded of the importance pf the little words in a sentence. This is also true when translating from Greek to English.

 Luther Seminary professor Sarah Henrich points out that the Greek word that is often translated as “so” in John 3:16 -“God So Loved the world” is often understood as God loved the world so much. But, she says it actually means “just so” or “in this way”.  She argues that the verse isn’t about how much God loved but rather the way that God loves the world. The way God loves the world was by sending his Son Jesus to take on flesh and blood, to become like us, to save the world.  

God loves the world.  When I think of the “world” I often think of the created earth and sea and all of God’s creatures. But theologian and pastor David Lose says that throughout the Gospel of John, including John 3:16, the Greek word “kosmos,” which we translate as “world,” is not referring to the created world. Instead, it refers to a hostile world, a God-hating rather than a God-loving world. It refers to a world like the one that crucified Christ; a world very much like ours.

 So, using both these insights, our translation of John 3:16 becomes: This is the way God loved the GOD-HATING WORLD … God gave God’s only Son, in order that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.”

 In other words, out of love, God sent God’s beloved son into a harsh, hostile world in order to save you and me and everyone else too. As we read in the next verse, John 3:17, “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the God-hating world, but in order that the God-hating world might be saved through him.”  It is the people - not the plants and animals - that need God’s transformational saving.

 But, when Jesus proclaimed the Good News of God’s love for all to a broken God-hating world, not everyone wanted to or was able to hear these words as Good News for them. Eugene Peterson Message Bible translation describes it as a “crisis we’re in: God-light streamed into the world, but men and women everywhere ran for the darkness… Everyone who makes a practice of doing evil, addicted to denial and illusion, hates God-light and won’t come near it, fearing a painful exposure.” 

 This image of hating exposure reminded me of the time I visited a friend in Chicago. She lived in an apartment over a bakery. When we got to the door, she looked at me, grinned and said, “Watch out!” She flicked on the lights and suddenly a host of cockroaches went scurrying into the cracks of the floor and under the radiator. I was speechless for a second and then asked, “How can you live here?” She just laughed… and then said, “Shake the toaster before you use it in the morning.”   

I just about got sick. I couldn’t imagine living with these creepy creatures that scattered when you turned on the light.  And yet… isn’t that what John is describing as the way of the world? The world who hates God and God’s way and so runs off to hide, so that their lies cannot be exposed. The world – our world - is still full of injustice, suffering and pain. 

This past week, jury selection began for the trial of former officer Derek Chauvin who is charged with the murder of George Floyd.  Many of us were shocked and appalled when we first saw the video that went viral of Chauvin kneeling on the neck of George Floyd. We saw, with our own eyes, the way that George was treated by officers of the Minneapolis Police Department, officers who were sworn to protect and serve.  This sparked outrage at the racism in our country that many of our black and brown brothers and sisters deal with every day. 

 Under the cover of darkness, after peaceful protestors went home, violence erupted in the streets and bad actors - the God-hating world - broke windows, looted and set fire to businesses.  Pastor Gholston told me that he gathered a crew in his neighborhood to stand guard in front of their local grocery store in North Minneapolis.  Three times a suburban van drove through the parking lot… but saw them and drove away. 

We have a problem. We need and want a police force that protects and serves - as I have experienced in my work as a police chaplain with the Robbinsdale, Crystal and New Hope Police. But we - as a country - still have a problem with the way that people treat one another based on the color of their skin. After the protests of last summer, Pastor Gholston said to me, “Everyone is ‘woke’ now, but…will it last?”  We live in challenging times…and yet… God still loves this God-hating world. God does not love acts of injustice or racism or oppression. But God still loves this God-hating world.

Love. I think love is only one thing that can make a difference.   It was love that made my Spanish friend keep trying to unite his family — despite all of the challenges with his green card and covid restrictions. It was out of love of neighbor that Pastor Gholston protected the only grocery store left in his neighborhood. And it is out of love that Jesus calls us to speak the truth and expose injustice, pray for justice and peace; and care for our neighbor.

 The world is still a sorry mess, full of injustice and hardship. But God still wants a relationship with us and with the God-hating world around us. And God keeps loving us, and extending to each one of us God’s compassion and grace.

 This is why we can sing. Despite the challenges of this world and all the worries and concerns that come our way. We can sing because we know God’s love and we know the end of the story. This is the story of God’s love for us all – and - as we read in the message translation of Ephesians, God has “all the time in this world and the next to shower grace and kindness upon us in Christ Jesus.” So, in the meantime, let our words and actions be full of love and compassion for all our neighbors and let us give thanks to God whose love, grace and compassion is boundless. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran Church                      March 14, 2021             Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

Faith Makes a Difference

This Gospel story is full of surprises. Imagine – a paralyzed man on a stretcher coming down through your roof.  Even Jesus seemed surprised – and amazed. But then, Jesus surprises everyone by saying to the man: “Son, your sins are forgiven."

I’m assuming that the friends were surprised because they were hoping that Jesus would physically heal the man. As for the scribes – they were surprised – but in a negative way as they wondered: who did Jesus think he was?

But Jesus isn’t done surprising people. He demonstrates his authority to forgive sins – something that cannot be seen - by doing something that can be seen – healing the man. Jesus says to the man, “stand up, take your mat and go to your home." And the man immediately stood up, took the mat and left.”  Again, everyone was surprised and gave thanks to God. 

I like this story in the Gospel of Mark not only because of the many surprises – but also because I think that we can see ourselves in this story.  We could be one of the friends – adapting to the challenge of getting their friend in front of Jesus. Or we could be part of the crowd – amazed at the sight of the man coming through the roof and then even more amazed as he walks out healed. We could be one of the scribes – protecting the law and tradition. Or we could be the homeowner wondering: what just happened to my house?!

But today I would like you to first imagine yourself as the one who was paralyzed on the stretcher. We don’t know much him except that he was helpless.  He may have heard about Jesus and his healing power. He might have wanted to go see Jesus. But he clearly couldn’t get there on his own. He was completely dependent upon his friends to lift him, to carry him, to adapt and find a way to put him in front of Jesus  – even though it meant carrying him up to the top of the house and then digging through the roof and lowering him down to Jesus.

The way that the paralyzed man’s friends brought him to Jesus was surprising and a bit unconventional but Jesus saw it as an act of faith – it was their faith that carried him to Jesus and it was their faith that Jesus commended.   

The paralyzed man was completely dependent upon others to get him to Jesus. The way that his friends did this is really unusual - but I wonder – haven’t we all depended upon the faith of someone else?  

I’m guessing that you can think of ways in which other people have carried you when you were in need. Maybe for some of you, like for me, it was the faith of your parents and grandparents that brought you to faith and literally carried you to the font to be baptized.  For others, maybe it was a neighbor who brought you to Sunday school, or a spouse who started going to church, or someone else who introduced you to Jesus.

As Lutherans, we believe that we all receive the gift of God’s love and grace and are made children of God in baptism not by our own doing – but as the free gift of God. As Martin Luther says in the small catechism,  it is the Holy Spirit who calls, gathers and enlightens us and keeps us in the true faith. However, the Holy Spirit doesn’t work alone but engages and works through people of faith as the body of Christ to do God’s work in the world.

As people of faith, we depend upon others to encourage, sustain and help us grow in faith.  When you were young, it might have been your Sunday school teacher or a camp counselor who taught you to trust in the word of God.  Later, perhaps a Bible study group, choir or a prayer partner nurtured your faith. Or maybe other people in the congregation inspired and encouraged you either by their example or perhaps because of the way they reached out with prayer and care in ordinary ways or in a time of need.

I know that I have been the recipient of ordinary care and prayer from people of faith who, especially during this pandemic, but also throughout my life, have sent a card or spoken a word of encouragement or care. In addition, I also know that I have been dependent upon the faith of others when I was in great need and unable to help myself.

I will never forget the feeling of helplessness that I experienced after being in a car accident and not even being able to tell the nurse that I wanted a drink of water.  I was flat on my back – and also suffering from a head injury. Like the paralyzed man, I could do nothing for myself – but like his friends, my family didn’t give up. They took me out of the hospital and away from the doctors that were ready to put me in a care center and throw away the key. Instead, they brought me to another hospital and another doctor who had some other ideas. Towards the end of my month-long stay in that hospital, this doctor came into my room and asked me if I had any questions. I had tons but could only say to him, “Am I going to be ok?”  He answered, “Yes, because you have faith.” And then he left.  I held onto that prognosis and trusted in that promise. But as I look back, I realize that it is not only because I had faith but also because my family had faith and he did too. It turns out that he was a missionary doctor – and knew quite a bit not only about medicine but also about faith. Faith makes a difference.

Sometimes I have been – and you have been -- the one who, like the paralyzed man -  is in need and has been lifted and carried to Christ Jesus – sometimes literally and at other times in prayer. And sometimes the Holy Spirit calls upon me and you to do God’s work in the world around us. For example, on my block, one of my neighbors has just been diagnosed with cancer. Another neighbor immediately organized a meal-train to help care for their daily needs.

Brothers and sisters – friends in Christ –  Our faith – YOUR faith -- makes a difference not only for you – but also for your family, your friends, your neighbors and everyone else whose life you touch.  Your faith, active in your life, is the vehicle God’s YES to be proclaimed.

This has never been more evident than in this pandemic time in which so much of our ordinary life has been different.  I have noticed the many ways that you, people of Faith-Lilac Way, and friends and neighbors have responded in faith to care for others.  Some of you have been making phone calls to those who have been isolated in care centers. Others of you have sent notes. All of you have been praying. These are just a few of the ways that I know that you reach out and care for one another – and the community.

Brothers and sisters, friends in Christ, your faith makes a difference to you and to the world around you.  May you be blessed with the faith and courage to both carry others and their cares to Jesus and the grace to receive the care and kindness of others in Jesus name.  Amen.

Hope Is a Verb

In the traditional society in which the first disciples lived, it would have been extraordinary for grown men like Simon, Andrew, James, and John to desert their occupations and obligations to follow this man named Jesus. We are right to wonder what in the world would possess these fishermen to up and leave their nets and families in the lurch? May I suggest that this could only have been the work of the Holy Spirit – a burning hope in their hearts that God was up to something amazing in this man named Jesus, right then and there.

As Christians, we are a people of hope against all hope (cf., Romans 4:18). We believe in the inbreaking of God in the life, death, and resurrection of our Savior, and so we hope against all hope that God is alive and working in our world in and through Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit. We hope that the coming of God’s kingdom of mercy, compassion, and justice for all is not only possible, but that it is real, palpable, and near. Even as we look out upon a despairing world, we hope, do we not?

In the words of pastor, poet, and artist Jan Richardson, we hope nonetheless. We hope despite. We hope regardless. We hope still.[1]     

I am not going to sugarcoat it. It has been one difficult year to actively hope. And so, we pray to hold on to hope. And we pick up our Bible, and amazingly, our Psalmist today speaks directly into this very moment. He sings: God alone is my rock and my salvation. O people, trust in God at all times; pour out your heart. For God alone I wait, for my hope is from God (from Psalm 62: 5-8).    

I imagine the Pslamist’s steadfast hope to be the same hope the first disciples felt in their hearts as they leapt forward into unknown territory with Jesus to create something newk in the world. For God alone they must have been waiting. For God alone fueled their hope. For God, in that very moment, spoke directly to them through Jesus. The time was near. The time was now. Their hope was in motion.

Sometimes when we talk about hope it comes off as a comforting platitude or naive sense of optimism. This is not the hope I’m talking about. I’m talking about an active hope that believes that the kingdom of God is near and now, and looks and listens to move and turn and change with a God who breaks into the world.

Jan Richardson’s poetic voice calls it a hope that draws us past our limits; a hope that defies expectations; a hope that questions what we have known in the past; a hope that calls us into new life and blesses those to come.[2]

I call it a hope that gets up and leaves fishing nets behind and moves somewhere new. I call it a hope that says old ways of being—and old patterns of the heart—no longer suffice. As Jesus himself proclaimed, “the time is now, God is near” (Mark 1:15), it’s time to walk with me.

In my own life, I am reminded of the time when I knew it was time to move into a new vocation. I was a state budget official sitting in a tense meeting with political staff who were calling on me to help shape the dismantling a major social safety net program that served hundreds of thousands of marginalized people in the state. See, this was my job at the time: to provide objective analysis and information to support policymakers. All at once, in the middle of this awful meeting, I knew I was done with this job that frequently left me wanting to say more. I felt a hope rise within me to use my words to advocate on behalf of those on the margins. I had no idea where this hope would eventually lead me or my family, but the Spirit called. It was time to change my heart and my priorities, and yes, leave some things that had been important to me.

That’s the hard part about having an active hope in Christ: at times, you know the direction to take but seldom know exactly where you are going. Imagine Simon, Andrew, James, and John on their way to Capernaum with Jesus that day calling out to him, “Okay Jesus, we are with you, now…but where are you taking us?”

What might millions of healthcare workers in the world be saying right now? See, the Spirit called and said the time was near. They were needed. So many left concerns for their own safety, regular schedules, and even their own families behind to live in service to others. These “saints next door” – as Pope Francis has called them – have risked their lives and worked tirelessly for so many months, with no map and no end in sight, a tangible example to the rest of us of active hope in the heart of Christ.

We look for hope on the move in our churches, too. In the wake of the killing of George Floyd, the Spirit called upon congregations in Minneapolis and said the time is near. The dominion of God is upon us. Open your doors. Set up makeshift emergency centers and take care of wounded bodies. Feed the hungry and give rest to the weary. Wage peace. Remake yourself, church, in Christ’s image. 

And now, as we look upon the inauguration and the early first days of a new president and administration, we know that our country remains as bitterly divided, angry, and beset by racism as it has ever been. We cannot unsee those images of rioting and violence at the US Capitol on January 6th, and we wonder where followers of Christ are called to be right now.

Where are you in all of this, dear Congregation? Do you hope, still? Where have you ceased to hope? How can we pray for one another better, that our hope would be fed, and that we would know when it is time to move with Jesus, as individuals and as a community of faith.

Brothers and sisters in Christ, may you be blessed with hope and may we walk together with courage in the name of the One who sustains us and comes to life within us.

Amen.       

[1] An adaptation of a portion of Jan Richardson’s poem “Rough Translations”, from a collection of poems called Circle of Grace.

[2] An adaptation of another portion of Jan Richardson’s poem “Rough Translations”, from a collection of poems called Circle of Grace.

A Full House – John 1:1-18

On this, the second Sunday after Christmas Day, we are treated to another story of Christ’s birth. This birth story that begins the Gospel of John contains no references to the manger, nor shepherds, nor singing angels, nor magi searching for the baby Jesus.

Rather, this beginning is a cosmic birth story if you will. It is the story of how Christ, the Word, existed from the very beginning of time with God, partnered with God in all of creation, and came to earth, in flesh and in blood. What is more, John’s prologue tells us that you and I only know how to see God because of the birth of Christ into the world (John 1:18). This kind of Christmas story is vast, mystical, and mind-blowing, indeed.       

When I try to imagine it, I find the eagle, a symbol for the writer of the Gospel of John, so very helpful. Picture an eagle, soaring high among the heavens, looking straight at the sun, and then almost like a thunderbolt, diving down to the ground. To me, this is a worthy image of Christ too, who from the beginning and now and forever, flies in these circles of creative relationship with God and who is also God, and who makes a sudden nose dive to come to us as child, just so that we could know grace and love God all the better.

Our reading today tells us that “… the Word became flesh and lived among us…” (John 1:14, NRSV). One of my favorite translations of this verse comes from Eugene Peterson, the author of the Message Bible, when he writes “the Word became flesh and blood and moved into the neighborhood…” (John 1:14, The Message). See, our God does not separate Godself from humanity, but in Christ, takes up residence and dwells wherever we may be.

I wonder if during this time of pandemic you feel you have room for another houseguest. I don’t know about you, but my house is feeling pretty full already.

Truth be told, all of this seemingly unending family time has a way of reminding me of my first tenuous days and months of motherhood. My husband Dave and I were older parents, but that doesn’t mean we knew what we were doing. In fact, we were petrified when the doctor told us we were cleared to bring our son Jacob home from the hospital. Where is the instruction packet, we wondered?

Once home, we got to know our baby better each day: when he wanted to eat; how he struggled to latch; how bouncing him on a yoga ball was the only thing that would put him back to sleep in the middle of the night, and that one MUST NOT stop. Jacob quickly learned that he was the light of my life, but also that I cried easily when sleep-deprived (which was often).

Oh yes, there were tears, spit-up stained shirts, dirty diapers overflowing in the trash can, and days and nights that seemed to go on forever. Still, there was joy and laughter in our little family house of three like never before. It was a holy time when Jacob came into our lives. The presence of Christ within us and through us and at the center of this happy, messy, sleep-deprived home was palpable. I confess we did not make it to church much in those early weeks, but everything we did seemed sacred. And Christ was in our home.

This is the wondrous truth underlying this mystical story of the Word in the Gospel of John. For somehow, in Christ, God knits together earth, ocean, sky, and all of creation with you and me in all of our utter humanness; in our joys and our sorrows; in our shining moments and in our foibles; in our Sunday best, and in our bathrobes sipping lukewarm coffee on the couch.

Because of the grace of Christ living in and among us, your home may be a sacred temple. Your glimpse of red cardinal in the bleak midwinter may be a burning bush.[1] Your daily walk to keep your sanity may be a wilderness wandering all of your own where you encounter God in unexpected ways. Hearing the babbling of a grandchild may be the song of an angel praising God.

When we glimpse this stunning unity of all things because of Christ, everything about our world is made new. We see that everything in the cosmos, from the highest of heavens to the minutiae of yet another endless day under the same roof is held together through the fullness of Christ’s grace upon grace. In the words of Father Richard Rohr, “it’s a Christ-soaked world”, a world where our body has spirit, and spirit has body. “In this world, everything is sacred; and the word ‘real’ takes on new meaning.”[2]

God becomes ‘real’ in our world, only through this lens of Christ who walked on the earth as a mortal at a given time and place, but who walks in and among us still. As our scripture says, “No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known” (John 1:18).

So this week I invite you, wherever you may be, to look for Christ taking up residence within your home and within you:

·         Perhaps…in signs of new life or new creation;

·         In how you love your life, or how you create or take care of your home;

·         In how you care for your own health, and how you care for your family or friends, neighbors;

·         In what you see when you look into the face of another, perhaps one who is different from you;

·         In the beauty and diversity of the world around us; and

·         In all the things,

·         Christ is there.

Beloved children of God, as we turn the corner on 2020 and enter this new year, we do so facing our future together. Even as we wait and pray to be able to assemble in the sanctuary for worship, to hear scripture, to be reminded of our baptism, to receive Christ in the bread and the wine, and to experience again all of these gifts from God; we are no less united than we were ten months ago when the pandemic began.   

For it is Christ who unites us. This Christ who existed from the very beginning of time; who was born and lived, flesh and blood, among us; and who lives still, binding us and all of creation together, with grace upon grace, even when we are masked and physically distanced.

Take heart, and take hope, dear ones. Christ has come. Emmanuel, God with Us, is here. And in all places. And in all things. And right where you are.

[1] Inspired by lyrics from Peter Mayer’s song, “Everything is Holy Now”.

[2] From Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditation, December 28, 2020, “The Politics of Prayer.” Accessed at: https://cac.org/category/daily-meditations/.