Sunday, February 18, 2024

Growing in Faith: Trusting God with our Everyday Lives

Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

Have you seen the bumper sticker: “God is coming back, and boy is he mad!”  It sounds like something that a preacher in the ilk of John the Baptist might say to stir up the people to repent.

 It’s got a point: God would have lots of reasons to be mad. People have made a mess of the world. There is a lot of saber rattling going on and far too much war and even in places, like here, where there is peace--there is violence and discord. We haven’t loved our neighbor as ourselves and we haven’t been good stewards of the earth. Our crazy winters – with record breaking weather -- from snow and cold last year to almost no snow and oddly warm temperatures this winter. A man stopped by my office the other day with a question: what is your church doing about Climate change? My first thought was, “what can we do?” But when he continued to press me, I told him about synod and ELCA efforts and that locally, we have worked with Enerchange to change our lightbulbs to LED. These are good things, certainly, but to really combat climate change? Our efforts felt pretty meager and that problem – and the rest of the problems facing our world feel overwhelming.

 But the message that Jesus gives in our gospel is not: “God is coming back, and boy is he mad!” and it’s not the other bumper sticker that I’ve seen that says, “Jesus is watching… better get busy.” Instead, Jesus says, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” Or, if you were to put that in a bumper sticker, you could say, “God’s reign is coming – and boy is that good news!” 1

 Jesus is not sugar-coating the way of the world. After being baptized, and undergoing 40 days of temptation, Jesus comes out of the wilderness to discover that John the Baptist has just been arrested. The world is not a good and safe place for John...or for preachers like Jesus who do not bow to the forces of empire. Jesus knows this but does not respond with fear.  Instead, he says, “The time is fulfilled, the kingdom of God has come near…” In other words, “The time that you have been waiting for – is NOW and the kingdom of God at hand.”  So, what shall we do? Jesus says, “repent and believe the Good News.”

 Like John the Baptist, Jesus calls for repentance. The Greek word for repent is “metanoia” which means to change direction. So, while John called for a repentance of forgiveness and a change in the way that people act; Jesus calls people to repent and believe the Good News.

 But what does this mean for those of us who are already baptized and who already believe?  This is the question a very faithful woman asked me after I preached a sermon in which I talked about Jesus’ call for us to “repent, to turn “180 degrees” and to change our ways. She said, “if I already believe, how can I turn 180 degrees to follow Jesus? Won’t I just be spinning in circles?”

Although it gave me a very funny image of her spinning in circles, it was a fair question. For those of us who are already baptized, we are called to repent of everything that draws you away from God and turn towards believing in the Good News of Jesus Christ with your whole self – body, mind and spirit. 

This is the purpose of this season of Lent, to draw people into a closer, deeper, relationship with God. So, while it was was created by early church leaders as a time of learning and preparing for baptism at Easter, it has become a time for all Christians, regardless of where we are in our journey, to grow in faith.

Grow in faith. This is one of the charges that we proclaim at the end of every service. Lent gives us a concrete timeframe to seek to grow in faith.

The next question, is how can we do that? There are many spiritual disciplines that you can explore, but I would like to suggest three that I am drawn to this year: Notice; Reflect and Pray.

Notice the ways that God is at work in our world. It is tempting to look at only the ways that we have failed as stewards of God’s world but God has not abandoned us. Jesus came as God Emmanuel, God with us and sent us the Holy Spirit to continue to be with us. God is not coming back to destroy the world. As we read in our lesson from Genesis, God made a promise to Noah and all people and all creatures, that no matter how hard life gets, now matter how awful people and nations become, God will not let the waters rise and destroy the earth. God said, “As for me, I am establishing my covenant with you and your descendants after you, and with every living creature that is with you, the birds, the domestic animals, and every animal of the earth with you.” Notice that God makes this covenant – a promise that is not dependent upon our actions – but only upon God’s will not only to Noah and all people, but to all the birds and animals too. God gives a sign – the rainbow – as a reminder to God – and to us – that God will keep God’s promise.

Notice the rainbows when life seems hard. A few weeks ago I was able to take a vacation to Kauai - a very beautiful part of the world. But unlike other people who maybe enjoyed simply relaxing on the beach, I thought it might be fun to go hiking in the wilder part of the Na Pali coastline that is not accessible to cars. And it was. But it was also hard. The path was not always clear or well maintained and after it rained, the path turned to mud. As we were making our way with our big camping packs  – I walked very slowly so as not to fall off the edge of the mountainside – a runner came up behind us wanting to pass. Of course I scooted as close as I could to the mountain to make room for him, and as I did, I looked up and I saw a spectacular waterfall – and I was filled with awe. And then, after he passed by me, I looked the other way… and there was a rainbow, peaking out of the clouds. It’s good to trust the promises of God and to notice – whether you are sitting on a beach, clinging to a mountainside or stuck in traffic or at home… God is with us and will not forsake us ever. I invite you, this Lent, to join me in noticing God in nature and God at work in the world.

 The second thing that I want to invite you to join me in doing is to reflect and pray. There are lots of options for devotions (there are a number of them in the narthex). But I want to especially call your attention to Psalm 25. We are going to be reading and singing and chanting this Psalm in worship throughout the season of Lent because it is a wonderful prayer to God for this time in which we are seeking to grow in faith.

 It begins with a call to God: “To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul. My God, I put my trust in you.” This is a great way to begin any prayer, being open to God and committing to trusting in God. The Psalmist continues asking for help and protection against those who would hurt or shame him. – “let none who look to you be put to shame.” The prayer goes on to asking God for help in growing in faith – “Show me your ways, O Lord, and teach me your paths. Lead me in your truth and teach me.”  The Psalmist also reminds God – and him or herself – of who God is: “Remember, O Lord, your compassion and love, for they are from everlasting.”  And then… we join the psalmist in asking for that very compassion to not remember but rather forgive “the sins of my youth and my transgressions.”  The Psalm continues both remembering and asking God to remember that God is “gracious and upright” and that God’s path is full of “steadfast love and faithfulness.”

 This is a Psalm worth learning, worth remembering and so I commend it to you this Lenten season as a way to begin or end your day as a scripture reading and a prayer. And then, as you pray this Psalm prayer, I invite you to reflect on your day. Was there a transgression for which you need forgiveness? A word spoken in anger or irritation? Take a moment to ask for God to forgive “the sins of your youth and your transgressions.” Was there someone who did something or said something hurtful to you? Ask for protection from shame and from enemies and the ability to forgive the wrongs of others. Did you notice God acting in the world through an act of loving kindness of someone else? Or did God help you to act with grace this day? If so, thank God for those moments. Finally, are there things, concerns in your day or in your life that you need to entrust to God – at least for safekeeping for the night so that you can rest and be renewed? Try to entrust these things to God’s care. 

 Brothers and sisters, friends in Christ, let us begin this Lenten season, this season of repenting from all that keeps us from God’s love and instead frees us to believe in the promises of God by noticing God’s work in our world; reflecting on the way God is present in our lives and pray that we may grow in faith so that we may go out in grace and serve the Lord. Thanks be to God, Amen.

 1 Minneapolis Area Synod Blog

2 A Very Brief History https://blogs.elca.org/worship/430/

Ash Wednesday, February 14, 2024

Altered by the Spirit of Love – Ash Wednesday 2024 - Pastor Pam

 Ash Wednesday and Valentines’ Day do not often land on the same day. However, it has happened before. My internship pastor, Vern, told me that after one Ash Wednesday service he overheard a woman who worked at Bachmans complaining about how tired she was after spending the whole day on her feet, making bouquets. Curious, he asked her, “Really? Do many people send flowers on Ash Wednesday?” She took one look at him, shook her head, and went and found some flowers to make a bouquet for his wife. She gave the bouquet to him and whispered: “It’s February 14 – Valentines’ Day? Give these to your wife.”

 Tonight’s preaching scripture is 1 Corinthians 13, otherwise known as the “love chapter.” I don’t think that I’ve ever preached on it other than at weddings. But when Pastor Colin, one of our Wildfire pastors told me that he was going to use this scripture for this Ash Wednesday/ Valentines’ Day mashup, I couldn’t resist following suit. Our theme for our mid-week Lenten series is “Altered” by the Spirit” – and there is nothing that “alters,” changes, and transforms us more than God’s love.

 After describing the great variety of gifts that people are given to share and the need to value and celebrate each gift, rather than competing for which one is best, Paul writes, “Let me show you a more excellent way…”  This is an invitation – not to compete – but rather to follow, together, the way of Jesus.

 While we may be used to hearing 1st Corinthians preached at weddings, Paul was actually writing to a congregation, a church community who was having some challenges. But whether we hear this scripture as a way to begin a healthy and loving marriage or as a way a community can come together – despite the disagreements, factions, diversity of ideas, culture and politics that surrounded the Corinthians and also surround us today – Paul shows us a more excellent way. This way, the way of love, is Christ’s way.

To show us this way, Paul turns to the language of poetry. Somehow, the beautiful words and cadence of poetry and music can disarm us, soften and warm our hearts, expand our minds and touch our soul.

 I’d like you to turn to the second paragraph of 1st Corinthians 13 and read it with me: “Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth.” It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”

This is beautiful tribute to the power of love – and I love this passage. But we always miss something when we translate. What we miss hearing in this sentence is that all the verbs are active. There are seven things that love does: Love shows patience; love acts with kindness. Love rejoices in truth. Love bears. Love believes. Love hopes. Love endures.  There are also eight things that love does not do. Love does not act out of envy. Love does not act boastfully or arrogantly or rudely. Love does not insist that it is my way or the highway. Love does not act out of irritation or resentment. Love does not rejoice in wrongdoing. As theologian Brian Peterson wrote, “love is a busy, active thing that never ceases to work. It is always finding ways to express itself for the good of others.” 1

So if, as Paul asserts, we as followers of Christ, are called to seek out and act in love for the good of our brothers and sisters in Christ and if we are to extend that love to the communities we live, work, and play in, and if, together, we are to extend that love even further to encompass of of God’s creation … what does this look like? How can this be anything other than aspirational? 2 

 If love acts with patience… what does that look like?  Perhaps it looks like a daughter, a son, a parent, a friend sitting by the side of an ill mother, father, child, or neighbor in the ICU.

 If love acts with kindness…. What does that look like? Maybe it looks like the woman who visited another in a temporary care unit – a TCU. A TCU is a place to be when you out of the hospital but not well enough to go home, and so, sometimes, a TCU can be a depressing place.  But, from what I heard, this visit started out with a little chat and it ended up in yet another patient’s room with the whole group laughing and enjoying one another’s company.  Who knew that “ladies aide” could happen in a rehab room?

 If love does not act with envy or arrogance, then it must act humbly and generously. Maybe it looks like women with artistic gifts providing materials and tools and encouragement so that – regardless of artistic talent or lack thereof – all  were all were able to make beautiful Valentine’s Day cards for our homebound members and RobbinsWay neighbors.

 If love does not insist on its own way… what does that look like when we disagree? Maybe it looks like a woman who told me that when she is on a group chat with her relatives – and they often disagree – she listens first before suggesting, politely, that perhaps the issue could be seen in another way. By having listened first, she has not only honored her relatives but has also created an environment in which they may be more open to hear her point of view.

 Paul never said that the way of Jesus, the way of love, would be easy. But it is a more excellent way – because it is the way of Jesus Christ.

 We begin our journey to living the way of love, Christ’s way, by looking at ourselves. It’s not always easy to do. Paul writes, “now we see in a mirror, dimly. In Paul’s day, they did not have mirrors like we have today – which reveal sometimes more than we wish they did about our physical appearance.  One could only catch one’s reflection in a window – or maybe in a shiny spoon. But it isn’t one’s physical appearance that Paul is referencing here. Rather, it is looking inside of ourselves to see the times in which we have acted in ways that are not in keeping with Christ’s way. It isn’t easy or comfortable to look within and see the times when we said a cruel or hurtful word, the times in which we acted out of jealousy or self-centeredness, the times we have been boastful or arrogant. Nor do we like to see the times we have selfishly kept our gifts to ourselves, whether out of insecurity or false pride; the times we have not dared or been willing to use the gifts God gave to us to share. 

 Friends in Christ, God sees our whole self - the good and beautiful and the bad and the ugly. God sees it all – and loves us – no buts. And, God wants us to see ourselves and confess the times we have failed to be the people we yearn to be so that God can set us free from the things that bind us.  When we empty ourselves of the sin, guilt, shame and fear that we have been holding onto, then God can fill us with Christ’s own body and blood and we can be transformed, altered, freed to love as Christ loves us. We will be free to pursue love – just as Christ has pursued us. Amen.

 1 Brian Petersonhttps://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/fourth-sunday-after-epiphany-3/commentary-on-1-corinthians-131-13-5

 2 Karoline Lewis

https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/fourth-sunday-after-epiphany-3/commentary-on-1-corinthians-131-13-3 

Sunday, February 11, 2024

Seeing God- Vicar Karen Peterson

For the last several weeks we have been reading from the Gospel of Mark, and still haven’t finished the first chapter.  But this week, because it is Transfiguration Sunday, we jump ahead eight chapters in the Gospel of Mark to the mountain top experience where the disciples witness Jesus undergo a dramatic metamorphosis.  That’s a huge jump forward, so I think it’s important to give you some context for this story.  Jesus has been accused by the teachers of the law of being demon possessed, to explain that he is able to cast out demons.  His own family has tried to take Jesus away, saying that he is “out of his mind, and he has denied them, saying his family are those who do the will of God. The Pharisees and Herodians began plotting against him in chapter 3.  He’s been speaking in parables, calming a storm, walking on water, raising Jairus’ daughter from the dead, feeding thousands.  John the Baptist has been beheaded.  And in chapter 8, Jesus heals a blind man, and then immediately preceding the gospel for today, Peter declared that Jesus is the Messiah, after which Jesus told the disciples that the elders, chief priests and teachers of the law would hand him over to be executed, and that he would rise on the third day, after which Peter scolds Jesus for such crazy talk.  Jesus replies, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

Sight and perception are an important theme in the Gospel of Mark, especially the lack thereof, especially when it comes to the Jewish leaders and Jesus’ own, hand-picked disciples, and their failure to recognize or perceive the truth about Jesus.  In fact, it is fair to say that they are deaf as well as blind.  Jesus tells them quite openly and honestly about his approaching death on the cross, and then tells them that “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”  But they turn a deaf ear.  They have preconceived notions of who God’s Messiah is and what he is fated to do, and they refuse to see or hear anything that contradicts those assumptions and expectations.  And this mountain top experience, which ought to transform their own ideas and expectations and conform them to those of Jesus, is similarly dismissed.  As far as Peter and the gang are concerned, Jesus is the long promised, fully human God-anointed prophet-king who has come to free Israel from Roman oppression and reestablish the sovereign kingdom of Israel, over which he and his descendants will reign forever.  When Peter proclaimed Jesus as the Messiah just six days before the transfiguration, this is what he meant.  The disciples are not alone in these Messianic expectations. 

The truth is, these are not crazy ideas or outlandish interpretations of these prophecies, if you think about it.  God had raised up many rulers and saviors of the Jewish people before this:  Noah, who saved two of every living creature on earth; Moses, who freed the Israelites from slavery in Egypt; Joshua who led the Israelites and helped them take possession of the promised land; Samson and Deborah and all the other judges, king Saul who defeated the Ammonites; king David who saved the Israelites from Goliath and the Philistines; Cyrus the Great, the king of the Persian empire who set the Israelites free from Babylon and helped them rebuild the temple… all of them totally human, complete with warts and character flaws, most of them warriors, law-givers or leaders of their people, all of them defenders and builders of the nation of Israel.  God has always worked through human beings, and does so even today.  Once again, the Israelites were living as oppressed, conquered and colonized people, and they wanted desperately to become a free people in a sovereign nation once again.  It’s perfectly natural for them to interpret their Messianic hope in light of this dream and this reality. This who they understood Jesus to be, because this is who the Jews wanted, needed and had, for half a century, prayed for the Messiah to be.  They believe they see Jesus clearly.

My three oldest boys, Forrest, Dacotah and Ellery, were once sure that they knew who Jesus was too.  When Kevin and I began talking about marriage, we started attending a Lutheran church in Fargo.  I had always told my boys that Jesus promised that wherever people gathered to worship, he would be there with them.  They absolutely believed me, and they kept their eyes open, looking for Jesus.  To be honest, I told them that, in part, to get them to pay attention, give them something to watch for, so that I could sing with the praise band and not feel guilty about leaving Kevin stuck with trying to corral three boys under the age of seven and keep them quiet by himself for a whole hour of church.  Little did I know that every year during Lent, this church enacted the stories in the life of Jesus, and that Pastor Derek, a tall and fair-haired man always played Jesus, and grew his hair and beard out for this very reason every spring.  He looked just like a traditional white Jesus in a painting.  To top it off, these plays sophisticated and realistic, complete with market vendors trying to sell us their wares, and Pharisees and Sadducees wandering about in the sanctuary telling us not to listen to Jesus, and dropping real rocks when Jesus stopped the townspeople from stoning the woman caught in adultery.  That’s right, my boys were absolutely convinced that Pastor Derek played Jesus, dressed like Jesus, talked like Jesus and answered to the name of Jesus every Wednesday night for at least six weeks every year—Lent and Holy Week.  I was able to dispel this misidentification in the older two without too much trouble, but little three-year-old Ellery tenaciously clung to this misconception for at least four years, until we moved and the pastor at our new church was shorter, with black hair and beard, and never pretended to be Jesus. Like the disciples, Ellery was absolutely certain he knew who Jesus was, and nothing anyone said to the contrary could change his mind.

Like Ellery, the disciples saw in Jesus what they wanted to see, what they had been told to expect to see and hope for in the Messiah.  But Jesus isn’t the only blind spot these men have.  Let me paint the scene for you, so you can see and hear the same thing I do.

Jesus takes Peter, James and John, and they climb to the top of a mountain.  On that mountain are two shining prophets, and Jesus starts to shine too, as they are talking to him.  There is also a dark cloud that overshadows them on the mountain, out of which emanates the voice of God.  Forget about Elijah and Jesus, and just ask yourself, where else in the Bible do you have a shining Moses on a mountain with a pillar of cloud, and the booming voice of God?  Raise your hand if you’ve ever seen the old movie “The Ten Commandments.”  God shows up in Deuteronomy as a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night.  Moses goes up on Mount Sinai/Horeb to speak face to face with God, the pillar of cloud, and when he comes back down with the commandments, his hair and beard are whiter than white and his face shines like mercury headlights on hi-beam, so bright that he has to cover his face with a veil because his shininess frightens his people.

Moses and Elijah are Israel’s two greatest and most celebrated prophets, both of them known to have worked great miracles; both of them dead for many centuries, but believed to be alive in the presence of God in Heaven.  Both of them are shining like beacons as they converse with Jesus, another even greater prophet, also shining and dazzling white, in the presence of the cloud on a mountain top.  And what are they talking about?  According to my professor, Moses and Elijah are telling Jesus about his impending suffering and death.  The disciples recognize Elijah and Moses, whether or not they hear any of the conversation.   But when God’s voice booms from the cloud, “This is my beloved Son.  Listen to him,” it seems fairly obvious that this is intended for the ears of the disciples.  They witness it all, and not only do they still not understand who Jesus is.  Peter wants to build tabernacles, like the tent of meeting in Deuteronomy, and remain on the mountain top with the prophets.  Worst of all, the disciples seem to be completely oblivious to the presence of God on that mountain, even though Moses’ shining face should be a clear sign of God’s presence, not to mention God’s voice. 

So they go back down the mountain, and not a single word is said about what they witnessed or what it meant.  Instead, in the next verse, Peter asks why the scribes say Elijah must come first.  What an odd question to ask, after he shows up on the mountain.  Jesus tells them to keep it a secret until he rises from the dead, and they wonder what he is talking about, and what that means.  They don’t seem a bit different.  Jesus tells them about his death twice more, and they still don’t get it.  The third time James and John even ask for positions in the kingdom, assuming it is an earthly kingdom. 

One of the main jobs of the church is to bear witness to the activity of God in the world—to point and say, I see God there, and describe what God is doing.  As Lutherans, we believe God is present and active everywhere, all the time.  We claim that Jesus is present whenever we gather for worship.  But how good are we at recognizing God in our midst, regardless of whether it’s the Creator, the Savior or the Holy Spirit?  How do we know when we are in the presence of God?  How do we recognize what God is doing?  How good are we at naming it?  Are we awake and alert enough to register when God shows up?

When Ellery was a senior in high school, he organized a group of students to do service projects in the community.  At Christmas, he arranged for them to go caroling at the local nursing home.  Only a couple kids showed up, and he wanted to call it off, but the kids that did show up insisted that they go through with it, so they did.  They wandered through the nursing home popping into any room with an open door serenading the residents.  One resident began clapping her hands when they finished, and this caused quite a commotion among the residents and staff.  This particular resident had been catatonic for some time.  She never moved, never spoke—she was completely unresponsive—until those teenagers came in singing Christmas carols.  Ellery knew their little group of carolers made a difference that night.  Although he has never said it to me, I want to believe that Ellery recognized God’s presence in that room with them that night, working through them to reach this woman who had all but completely withdrawn from the world.  I hope he never stopped looking for God or Jesus in the world around him.

Since I came here to FLW, I have witnessed God at work here many times.  I saw God’s presence at the big band bash.  I know it was God because I’ve been a Lutheran all my life and I am convinced that only an act of God to make Lutherans get up and dance in the sanctuary, especially the Lindy and the jitterbug. 

I experienced God’s loving presence in the warm way you all embraced me immediately, and continue to encourage and support me, and worry about my long commute. 

I knew God was present in the sanctuary on New Year’s Eve, because, not only did no one fall asleep during my message, but most of you came out discussing what decoration to leave out to help you keep Christmas in your hearts all year.

I saw God at the Wildfire retreat when everybody got super excited and eager to participate in, not just one, but three different mission activities that were proposed.

I saw evidence of God’s handiwork in keeping a little boy from being sucked out of a 747 when the door plug came off in mid-flight and depressurized the plane.  And when, right after takeoff a planes engines malfunctioned and successfully made an emergency landing on a highway without any fatalities—I saw God’s fingerprints all over that.   

So where have you seen, heard or otherwise sensed God’s presence and activity recently?  What signs do you look for that tell you God is present and up to something?  Is it an energy in the area? Is it a feeling?  A sign of hope?  An outpouring of love?  An expression of gratitude?  An occasion when grace was offered or received?  A response to disaster?  Unexpected generosity?  A helping hand extended to someone in need?  An act of heroism?  An answered prayer?  What turns coincidences into God incidences?  When was the last time you pointed out God’s presence or activity to someone else?  Where do you see God working in the world, in the country, in the neighborhood today, even in the sanctuary today?  Is there someone you want to tell—someone who needs to hear it, who needs you to point God’s activity out for them?

Sunday, February 4, 2024

Sermon:  Mark 1:29-39                  Prayer and Relationship as Self-Care

One of the things I love most about the Gospel of Mark is that Mark takes the Incarnation seriously.  Mark doesn’t paint Jesus as God incognito, as God camouflaged in human form, but retaining all the omni-powers and the inexhaustible strength of God Almighty, totally devoid of human weakness.  No.  Mark portrays Jesus as extraordinarily human, with human needs and frailties.  Mark’s Jesus gets frustrated, irritated, angry, impatient, grumpy, sad, disappointed, and in Gethsemane, even reluctant and frightened.)  I’m not suggesting that Mark denies the divinity of Jesus.  Only that he emphasizes Jesus’ humanity. 

Emphasizing the humanness of Jesus is important to Mark because Mark also takes discipleship very seriously.  Mark recognizes that there is more to salvation than the cross and resurrection.  The life and the teachings of Jesus are also important and need to be followed as examples for kingdom living.  A disciple is literally a student who follows in the footsteps of his or her teacher—learning to walk and talk and think and live his life the same way as the teacher.  By stressing the humanity of Jesus, Mark can insist that Jesus is, indeed, someone we can truly follow and imitate.  It makes discipleship something doable, something reasonably possible.  It obliterates the excuse that being like Jesus is impossible because no human can become perfect, like God.  Mark insists that Jesus’ way of life and his teachings are to be studied thoroughly and applied and incorporated into our own lives.  Jesus is our example to follow and emulate. 

In today’s gospel, Jesus goes to Peter’s house, (right after he casts a demon out of a man in the synagogue) and heals Peter’s mother-in-law.  He and his new friends then sit down and relax as she gets up and sets about the business of hospitality, providing them with food and lodgings, as was an important custom in those days.  Somehow, the whole town hears the news that there’s a miracle worker in town who can heal people, and as the saying goes, good news travels fast—even without cell phones, radio, or newspapers.  Come evening, every person in town that is diseased or disabled or emotionally disturbed shows up outside Peter’s house, hoping to be healed, and the rest of the town comes to witness the event.  Jesus dutifully obliges and goes about healing many who are sick or disabled, and casting out demons. 

Now if we think of Jesus, as we tend to do, as God with all God’s strengths and powers, we might imagine that this is a nearly effortless task for Jesus, who just walks along touching them all and saying, “Be well,” or “Be clean,” or “Get up and go home and sin no more.”  But we know that when the woman who had been hemorrhaging for twelve years just touches his cloak, Jesus feels power drain out of him, and looks around to see who touched him.  So, if we think of Jesus as a human being who must take some time and expend some energy, feel some empathy, show compassion as he heals person after person, well, then you can imagine Jesus might feel exhausted, drained physically, emotionally, and spiritually, by the time everyone finally leaves. 

I know a little bit about how tiring it is, physically and emotionally, to work for hours with people who are sick, or dying, day after day.  I spent a whole summer doing just that.  Every Seminary student that intends to become a pastor or deacon is required to take one unit of Clinical Pastoral Education—CPE for short.  I did mine two summers ago, at the hospital in St. Cloud.  Yep… my commute was almost twice as far—too far to make every day.  So, I had to rent a dorm room in a nearby Catholic college for the summer and drive home on weekends whenever I didn’t have overnight weekend shifts in the hospital.  CPE is intense.  It’s not just spending lots of time ministering to patients in every part of the hospital and learning and practicing ministry skills, which can be exhausting by itself.  CPE also includes difficult self-analysis, identifying personal biases, strengths and weaknesses and emotional triggers, analyzing personality traits, questioning everything you say and do and why you say and do them, and helping others to do the same.  It can be a very stressful and confrontational process.  And the instructor is always looking for red flags, evaluating your progress and your fitness for ministry. As you might imagine, I felt totally drained at the end of every day.  And to top it off, there was homework every night.

I expected it to be hard.  I was in a strange town, in a dorm that was practically empty aside from myself and a couple of monastics.  My dorm was on the third floor, with no A/C and the temperature was about 90 degrees every night the entire summer, so I got very little sleep.  I didn’t have my family and friends with me to lean on or cheer me on.  It was the first time I was ever away from my husband and kids and pets for such an extended time.  I also had to give up my gardening, which was always very therapeutic for me.  It wasn’t an ideal situation, but this was where God had led me.  As you can imagine, I often found myself feeling lonely and stressed, and my eyes tended to sprout leaks whenever it was time for the class to focus on me, my strengths, and my deficiencies.

The college I was housed at had lots of beautiful monastic gardens, but they were off limits.  Ther was also a lake with hiking trails, so, I tried hiking along the paths.  But it was hot and muggy, and the mosquitoes were unbearable on the trails.  Worse yet, when I got back to my dorm, I discovered I had picked up lots of hitch-hiking wood ticks.  All the next week I was continually finding more and more of them, in my bed, even crawling on the walls and carpet.  So, suffice it to say that hiking in the woods along the lake was not a viable replacement for the garden solace I was longing for.  

My classmates were two women from Luther that I hadn’t met and two Catholic priests-in-training from Wisconsin.  We spent so much time questioning and analyzing each other, that we got to know each other well, really fast.  My new friends quickly realized that I was getting run down and having a hard time finding a way to recharge my batteries.  The guys figured out how much I loved and missed my gardens and being outdoors and started scouting out the neighborhoods around the hospital and locating all the yards with beautiful gardens and began taking me on walks with them during breaks, making sure to stop by all the gardens they had found.  The girls quickly followed suit and located walking paths along the river behind the hospital, lined with wildflowers, and started inviting me to hike with them.   We all started having lunch together, outside, as often as possible.  This was all helpful, but still not enough.  No matter what I tried, I just felt my cup running dry, and I just couldn’t understand why.  So, the next time I went home, despite how exhausted I was, I decided to spend a few hours sitting in the grass weeding my flower beds.  That’s when I figured it out.

I had forgotten one of the most important lessons in this gospel reading.  It was the same lesson my prayer professor tried to drill into all her students.  And it was the reason I missed my gardens—because in my gardens, whether I am pulling weeds, planting seeds or picking beans or tomatoes, I am constantly meditating and praying, constantly talking to God.  Sometimes, when there’s no one else around, I even talk to God out loud.  Don’t get me wrong, I was praying all the time. I was praying with and for my patients and their families, and for the doctors and nurses who tended them, praying with and for my classmates, praying for my family and friends.  I was praying more often than I think I had ever prayed in my life, and I had lots of people praying for me, too.  And I was listening, as well.  I listened as I entered each patient’s room, for the Holy Spirit to guide me in what to say, what to ask, what to offer my patients and their families.   I was even practicing guided meditation with some of my patients whose pain wasn’t managed well enough by medication. 

But I wasn’t doing these things for myself.  I wasn’t praying and meditating the way I do when I’m gardening.  I wasn’t having the same sort of personal, two-way conversation with God.  When I’m gardening, I remember that God is my best, closest and most devoted friend, and that I can tell God anything and everything.  I can be completely honest with God, and I can be me, and that is enough.  When I’m gardening, I pour out my heart and soul to God the way I would to my husband or a dear old friend.  And I ask God questions about things I wonder about and things I wrestle with, about whatever pops up in my head when I’m hot and sweaty and covered with dirt, all by myself in my back yard.  I take time to be still and listen, waiting patiently and expectantly for God’s reply to come floating on the breeze, or whispered amid the chatter of the birds, or fluttering to me on butterfly wings.  And I listen to the sound of my heart, the sound of leaves rustling, the buzzing of the bees, and let them inspire me, forming images and ideas in my mind.  When clouds pass by, I imagine them raining down God’s love on me, soaking me to the bone.  This is the sort of prayer that fills my cup.  This is prayer that keeps my batteries charged for ministry—because it nurtures my most important relationship—my primary source of strength.  Because "my primary relationship,” as my prayer professor told us over and over and over again, “is my relationship with God.”  

Drained and exhausted though Jesus is after healing a whole town full of ailing people, Jesus gets up, well before dawn, and goes to an isolated spot to pray. Jesus is fully aware that his relationship with God is his most important relationship.  Jesus never forgets that, and he always carves out time and space for conversation with God.  It is this primary relationship that gives him strength, guidance, power, hope, assurance, and confidence.  Like every other human being, Jesus is designed for relationship, relationship with other humans, and more importantly, designed for relationship with God.  Jesus constructs for himself a support network of human beings, but above and beyond that, what Jesus needs most, what Jesus relies on most, is a close and healthy relationship with God, and such relationships are founded on prayer, one-on-one, private, open, honest, conversation with God that includes asking questions and listening long and close with an open mind and open heart, in the pre-dawn stillness, for answers.  No matter which Gospel we read, we will find that Jesus goes off to pray frequently, before and after big miracles, to recharge his batteries, to replenish his energy and refresh his spirit.  This is a lesson we all need to learn—and something we should all be practicing. 

So, I have a few questions for you to ponder.  How is your relationship with God?  How often do you engage in deep, one-on-one conversation with God?  Is it part of your daily or weekly routine?  How often do you listen for God’s voice in the stillness?  Is there a place or time that works best for you?  Remember, we are all in ministry together, and ministry is most effective when supported by frequent conversation with God.  Take time to nurture that primary relationship.  God wants to hear from you.  Take it from someone who learned the hard way—it’s worth the time and effort.  It’s more than worth it—it's nourishment for your heart and soul, fuel for your journey through life. 

Sunday, January 28, 2024

Love Builds Up!

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

Have you ever been to an exorcism? I’m guessing that most – if not all of us – would say no. I know that exorcisms still happen. I’ve had conversations with Africans who have participated in exorcisms as a part  of their church life. But for most of us, what comes to mind when you hear the word, “exorcism” is a movie which, personally, I can’t watch. Even spy movies give me nightmares. 

 But in the very first chapter of the Gospel of Mark, not long after Jesus has called his first disciples, he goes to the synagogue in Capernaum. Capernaum is on the northern side of the sea of Galilee, a home base for Jesus after his neighbors in Nazareth, the town he grew up in, tried to throw him over a cliff after he preached there. Jesus goes to worship but instead of a welcome committee, he is challenged by a man with an unclean spirit who says, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.” Notice what is happening the demonic forces ask Jesus what he is doing there. It is almost like a turf war.1  Like the bad guys in an old western movie they say, “this is our town. You’re from Narazeth. “You don’t belong here. We run things here.” This is going on in the middle of the sanctuary – in God’s house.

 But Jesus is not willing to give up any “turf” or any child of God no matter where they live or who they are. And so,with just a few words, Jesus rebukes him and the evil spirit immediately comes out of him. As it says in the Psalms, “God is Lord of heaven and earth and all who live and breathe therein” – and that includes the spirits both good and evil.

 Jesus set this man free from the power of the evil spirit – and Jesus has set you free. You, baptized child of God, are marked with the sign of Christ. You are claimed as God’s child, a brother or sister of Jesus Christ. And there is nothing that can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. There is no spirit – on heaven or on earth that can come between us and the love of Jesus. Jesus has not only set you free but Jesus also gives you, and all children of God, the freedom to choose how you are going to use this gift of freedom.

 In his letter to the Corinthian Christians, Paul writes to the church about how they can faithfully use the freedom God has given them. In today’s lesson, he weighs in on an argument the Corinthian Christians are having over eating meat offered to idols. At first glance, this looks like a weird problem that is specific to the Corinthians at that time. We’ll get to why this has any relevance for us, but let’s first look at the problem that the Corinthian Christians are having.

 At that time, in Corinth, one of the community gatherings – a civic affair - was held in the temple of the pagan god. The whole community was invited to come and gather and eat the meat that had been offered to the local idol. Some of the Corinthian Christians argue that, since they believe that our God is Lord of heaven and earth and they have been set free, they can eat anything – including the free meat that the priests of the idol are offering. Meat was hard to come by in those days, so if it doesn’t mean anything, why not?  However, others were arguing that – if you take the bait, the free meat – you are on the idol’s fishline – and no longer following Jesus.

 Paul’s answer is interesting. He tells the Corinthians that those who argue that the meat is just fine to eat are right. Jesus has given them the freedom to eat anything they want. In terms of your soul, what you eat is “adiaphora.” That’s my favorite Greek word. It’s even fun to say: Adiaphora. Try it!  Adiaphora.  It means, “it doesn’t matter.”  It’s up to you what you eat - whether you eat meat, are a vegetarian, are gluten-free, dairy free or keep kosher. The real question for Paul is this: just because you have the freedom to eat the meat offered to idols, should you? 

 Paul reminds them that they live in a community and that what they do affects not only them – but also their neighbor.  As a result, if their neighbor is less capable of understanding that the eating of meat offered to idols is “Adiaphora” and are likely to relapse into following the idol again if they eat the meat, then, for the sake of your neighbor, choose on the side of building up the neighbor and the neighbor’s faith – even if it means you miss out on eating the free meat at the barbeque, because love builds up!

 This issue is completely “adiaphora” for us. Thanks to the USDA, the meat available to us is safe and sacrificing meat to idols and having BBQs is not really a thing anymore. But the problem isn’t really about the meat. The problem is over who is right – and what they should do about the problem that is causing a schism in their community. Knowledge was highly valued in Greek culture – and in our own. We often make decisions based on what we think, on what we know. But Paul asserts that knowledge, while wonderful and good, is not the greatest good. He says, “Knowledge puffs up.” Knowledge – feeling like we know the “answer” can appeal to our ego and our sense of being “right.” Like the Greeks, we have been taught to seek what is right – and to do it. Furthermore, we know, as Christians, that we have been set free by Christ to make decisions. So… if we know something is “adiaphora,” we are free to choose to do it or not.

 However, Paul writes that yes, you are free to choose, and so when making a choice, the best choice is to act out of love and do whatever it is that builds up the neighbor and avoids causing harm to the neighbor, because love builds up!

 In our ordinary lives, this happens when we take time to think about our neighbors’ needs as well as our own. For example: if I was looking for a place to hold a meeting and I knew one person was allergic to nuts and one was a recovering alcoholic, the best choice for a location would not be a bar that only serves beer and nuts. So even though I would have the “right” to do so, and it would be fine for most of the people, I would be endangering two people. Instead, out of love I should do something that builds up all the people – for love builds up!

 Another example might be the woman I met at the Wildfire retreat last Saturday who attends a game night her church holds – not because she likes to play games, but so that she can give a ride to someone else and hold the cards for one of her new friends. Or Ben, the vocal teacher that I met at the retreat who adapts his curriculum so that he can teach students who have a difficult time hearing. Or the daughter who cares for her mother with dementia even though, much of the time her mother doesn’t know her as her daughter anymore. Or the children who alter their game to include a little kid who doesn’t understand the rules. Love builds up the weakest, the smallest and the most vulnerable among us.

 There are many ways – some that make no difference to us and some that require some sacrifice – that we give up some of our freedom in order to care for our neighbor, our fellow child of God. This does not mean, however, that we are called to “give in” to everyone’s stated need or desire. There is a difference between accommodating the needs of our neighbor – which is love - and giving in to the demands of a bully – which is often done out of fear.

 There are times that we are called to take a stand for the sake of truth and for the sake of our faith. For example, Rosa Parks took a seat on the bus because she could no longer tolerate the laws that distinguished and separated people on the basis of the color of their skin. Others, who had nothing to gain personally, joined her in that quest. As Americans, we are not done with that goal. We are still on the journey of using our freedom for the sake of others, especially those who are most vulnerable, so that all of God’s children may be free.

 I have heard it said, if you must choose between being right and being kind, choose kindness. I would extend that even further to say, if you must choose between being “right” and showing love for someone who is vulnerable, choose love. Out of God’s great love, Jesus came to set us free, each one of us. So let us choose to respond to God’s love by using our freedom to care for all of God’s children. For this is the mission to which we have been called. Thanks be to God. Amen. 

Sunday, January 21, 2024

Follow Me

 What does it mean to follow Jesus?   That is the question that our scriptures have raised for me this week. Last week, you may remember, we heard the story of Jesus calling two other disciples – Philip and Nathaniel as recounted in the Gospel of John. Jesus invited them to “Come and See.” They did – and their eyes, hearts and minds were opened.

 But this week, we are back in the Gospel of Mark – and this Gospel moves fast. Already, Jesus has been proclaimed as Jesus Christ – which means Messiah- and the Son of God. The prophecy of Isaiah is declared fulfilled. John the baptizer witnesses to his coming. Jesus is baptized, goes into the wilderness, is tempted and prevails against the devil. And, John has been arrested, a foreshadowing of Jesus’ own arrest. That’s a lot of territory that’s been covered in the fourteen short verses prior to today’s Gospel. And it doesn’t slow down.

 After John is arrested, it is as if Jesus picks up his mantle and declares, like John, that it is time to repent – to turn away from those things that have come between you and God. But while John preached repentance in preparation for the Messiah, Jesus says, believe in the Good News. The time is now. Immediately. It’s one of Mark’s favorite words. He uses it 40 times in the Gospel. Immediately, Jesus calls his disciples, saying, “Follow me” and, on the spot, they leave their nets, their jobs, their family and everything that they owned behind – and followed Jesus.  

 Jesus’ call to “Follow me” comes with urgency in Mark’s Gospel, but that is not the only way that Jesus calls people to follow. Some of us have mountain top transformation experiences. Others have a slow and steady call to follow Jesus from many mentors including parents, grandparents, Sunday School Teachers, camp counselors and church members who notice and care.

 There is no one way to hear Jesus’ call to follow – and there is no one vocation to which we are called. Martin Luther reminded us of the “priesthood of all believers” and that there is no task that glorifies God more than another. Instead, as Frederick Buechner once said, The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.  What is Jesus calling you into?

 A friend of mine was wrestling with this question. She felt the desire to serve Jesus and she did not want to say no to Jesus’ call – but she also loved being a teacher. She wasn’t sure what to do. She visited with her pastor and he assured her that not all calls from God are into the ministry. Being a teacher can also be a call from God. And, so can being an electrician, a postal carrier, or a caretaker. When my mother was ill, I suddenly realized that the one who had cared for me all my life now needed me to be one of her caregivers.  

 A recent study showed that people who are retiring are also asking this question in a new way. Where is God calling me now? Where is the place where my deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet?  Listen for God’s voice. God keeps calling you.

 The tale of Jonah -which some scholars call a parable and others call an allegory -- is the story of someone who refused to listen to God’s call. God calls Jonah to go to Ninevah to warn the people that God was displeased with their wickedness and would destroy them. Ninevah is the capital of the Assyrian empire – the heart of a country that has terrorized Jonah’s people. Jonah doesn’t want to go and preach to them because, he knows that the Lord God is a gracious God, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. He doesn’t want to give these people the opportunity to repent because he doesn’t want God to forgive them. He wants them to rot in hell. So, instead of following God’s call, Jonah runs away, in the opposite direction. Or, at least he tries to run away.

 God, of course, has other ideas, you probably remember that Jonah ends up being swallowed by a whale where he has a “divine time-out.”1 After three days, Jonah comes to his senses and promises to go to Ninevah and do the task he is called to do. The whale promptly regurgitates him on the shore close to Ninevah. ( I’ll bet he smelled awful, his clothes and his hair full of whale belly vomit.)

 Eventually, Jonah goes to Ninevah and walks through the streets crying: “Forty days more, and Ninevah shall be overthrown.” The king hears this 8 word sermon and not only believes it, but takes action, repenting and ordering all of his subjects to repent, fast and to put sackcloth on themselves and even on their animals.  God notices and relents from punishing them.

 This sounds like a nice end to the story. But it’s not. God’s forgiveness of his enemies makes Jonah mad. He goes and pouts outside the city. God notices and makes a bush to grow to give shade to Jonah. Jonah really likes the bush.  But when the bush withered the next day, Jonah becomes even more angry. Let me quote just a bit from the last words of the book of Jonah:

 “God said to Jonah, Is it right for you to be angry about the bush?” And Jonah said, “Yes, angry enough to die.” Then the Lord said, “You are concerned about the bush, for which you did not labor and which you did not grow…. And should I not be concerned about Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons who do not know their right and from their left, and also many animals?”

 One lesson from this story could be that when God calls you to do something, you should do it because God doesn’t give up. Jonah is a perfect “bad example” of what happens when you don’t listen to God’s call. But there is another lesson – one that is even more important for Jonah – and for us. The other lesson in Jonah is not about the call to do something but rather the call to be more like God, to follow God’s way.

 God was calling Jonah not only to preach the words that caused the whole city to repent, but was also calling Jonah to change his heart, his prejudices, and the chip on his shoulder against the Ninevites.

 The story ends there. We don’t know if Jonah was able to enlarge his heart enough to be glad for God’s mercy – or if he just stubbornly stayed by his withered plant and died. God gives us choices. We don’t have to follow in God’s way. But God’s way is the way to life, freedom and wholeness.

 When God calls Jonah --and us-- to follow, God calls us to follow in the way we live our lives. God’s way, the way of Jesus, is compassionate, “slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and ready to relent from punishing.” God’s way makes room for forgiveness and even reconciliation.

 As Thomas Merton once wrote to Dorothy Day, “Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy. That is not our business, and in fact, it is nobody’s business.  What we are asked to do is to love, and this love itself will render both ourselves and our neighbors worthy if anything can.” 2

 As we enter a year in which there are wars and rumors of wars on many shores, an election year and a very divided electorate, you and I are called to follow Jesus in our compassion for the “other.” That “other” can have many faces.  Maybe it is a homeless person – like Charles – who came in the church the other day to ask for a cup of coffee. Maybe it is someone who came as an immigrant seeking asylum and since asylum seekers are not allowed to work, they are reduced to begging on the side of the road. Or, maybe it is someone who voted differently from you. Regardless of who seems “other” to you, following Jesus means following Jesus’ way, the way of compassion for the other.

 Jesus says to you, “Follow me.” The next step is up to you. Amen.

 1 https://asermonforeverysunday.com/wp content/uploads/2021/01/Amy-Starr-Redwine-3rd-Sunday-after-the-Epiphany-January-24-2021-Jonah.pdf

2 Ibid

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

Sunday, January 14, 2024

Listen! God is Calling… Come and See

Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran Church + January 14, 2024 + Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

Former Bishop Mark Hanson was leading a Bible study and was just getting into the meat of the scripture when a cell phone starts ringing. Everyone – including me - freezes for a second, hoping it wasn’t theirs– it wasn’t mine. Phew. But Bishop Hanson took it in stride and said, “Is it Jesus? And if it is, you had better answer it.”

 Listen, God is Calling.

 God called for Samuel one night. It was an epiphany, an “Ah ha” moment for Samuel– and the beginning of his life as a prophet. But I love that it begins in such an ordinary way. Samuel hears his name called and dutifully reports to Eli, assuming, of course, that it is the priest who is calling him. It was his job to attend to the priest’s needs. But after three times, Eli is awake enough to have a little epiphany of his own. He recognized what was happening and so he says to Samuel, “It is the Lord. Go back to your bed and if he calls you, say, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.” Samuel listened – and this time, when the Lord spoke, he said, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.” And God spoke to Samuel.

 God was raising up Samuel to become a prophet and lead his people. But God also worked through Eli, the priest. It was Eli who recognized that it was the Lord who was calling him. Samuel’s role changed dramatically that night from acolyte to prophet/ priest in training. And it was Eli who then mentored him, encouraging him to listen – and to be open to God’s word.

 Who has been like an Eli for you? Who has encouraged you to listen to God’s word?  Was it a Sunday school teacher, a parent or grandparent who encouraged you to come and listen to Bible stories?  Was it a friend who brought you to Sunday school or VBS? Was it a neighbor or a spouse? Or was it a book or even someone on social media which piqued your interest? Most of us have had a mentor or teacher who was our Eli, who encouraged us to “listen” to the Word of the Lord.

 And, how have you been an Eli for someone else? I know many of you have read Bibles stories and brought your children, your grandchildren, your friends to Sunday school and Vacation Bible School.  You have done this – thank you for your faithfulness in fulfilling the promise to bring your child to the Lord’s house, teach them the ten commandments and bring them to the Lord’s table. Well done… AND… you – and I – are not done.

 God has a habit of working through ordinary people of all ages – like the boy Samuel and the very senior priest Eli. Eli was quite old when he was called upon to mentor Samuel – who changed overnight from being his servant into being God’s chosen intern priest and prophet. I wonder… how is God calling you now to help a neighbor, a friend at work or school or in the community in which you live to listen to the Word of God and to see how God is calling them?

 Listen! God is still calling.

 In his book, Stride Toward Freedom, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. writes about a time when he was at the end of his rope. The path forward was unclear. He writes, 

‘‘I was ready to give up. With my cup of coffee sitting untouched before me, I tried to think of a way to move out of the picture without appearing a coward. In this state of exhaustion, when my courage had all but gone, I decided to take my problem to God. With my head in my hands, I bowed over the kitchen table and prayed aloud.

The words I spoke to God that midnight are still vivid in my memory. ‘I am here taking a stand for what I believe is right. But now I am afraid. The people are looking to me for leadership, and if I stand before them without strength and courage, they too will falter. I am at the end of my powers. I have nothing left. I’ve come to the point where I can’t face it alone.’

At that moment, I experienced the presence of the Divine as I had never experienced God before. It seemed as though I could hear the quiet assurance of an inner voice saying: “Stand up for justice, stand up for truth; and God will be at your side forever.” Almost at once my fears began to go. My uncertainty disappeared. I was ready to face anything.1”

 When he was tired, worn out, and did not know where to turn, Martin Luther King Jr. turned to God for help. And there, at his kitchen table, God spoke the words that empowered MLK to continue to lead God’s people in the fight for justice and righteousness and freedom for all people – regardless of the color of their skin. It was a true epiphany that happened not so very long ago.

 Listen! God is calling…still… even now. God is calling you and me to:

Listen. Listen for God’s Word in the scriptures. We can do this at home in a devotional time and in Bible study with other Christians so that we can probe into the Word deeply. We can also, like MLK, listen for God’s Word and God’s Way as we pray.

 I’ve been studying contemplative prayer and one of the things that I have learned is that it is very hard to listen for God’s direction if I don’t stop talking.  So, in addition to sharing all of your cares and concerns with God --- which God wants you to share – I’d like to suggest taking some time to simply listen.  Pray for the Holy Spirit to lead and guide you and then, in silence, listen for God’s way, God’s word.

 Listen! God is calling… and invites your response.  

 In our Gospel reading, Jesus finds and calls Philip. Philip’s epiphany, his ah ha moment, is to spring into action. He goes to seek out his friend Nathaniel to share with him that the one that they have been waiting for has come! Jesus is the Messiah.

 Ever get excited about something and rush off to tell a friend – only to have them say, “What’s so exciting about that?” or “Nah. That can’t be.”  That’s sounds like Nathaniel’s snarky response, “Can anything good come out of Nazarath?”

 I love Philip’s response to Nathaniel. Instead of arguing or trying to prove his case or “unfriending” Nathaniel because he just is not getting it, Philip simply says, “Come and see.”  Nathaniel does, and, when he meets Jesus, something clicks inside. Nathaniel proclaims Jesus as rabbi, Son of God and King of Israel. It’s an“Ah Ha!” Another epiphany.

 Listen! God is calling. Come and see.

 Who has been a Philip in your life? Did someone invite you to “Come and see?” Or have you been or could you be a Philip to a friend, a spouse, a neighbor? 

 If Jesus is calling you to share the Good News – and he is – then perhaps the best invitation for you to share is the same one that Philip offers: “Come and See.” This invitation respects the other’s ability to discern and invites them to see for themselves and hear for themselves the Good News that transforms and sustains our lives as followers of Jesus.  Come and see. Come and hear. Come and receive the gift of life and love and grace.  Could you make that invitation to someone? It could transform their life. It did for Nathaniel.

 One more thing: maybe this is obvious – but when you give an invitation to “come and see” it implies that you are inviting them to come with you. I’ve been told that, for people unaccustomed to coming to church, the hardest step to take is over the doorstep of the church and the walk between the door and the pew.  It’s all new and unknown. They don’t know what to do or where to go. So… when you invite someone to “come and see” – it’s a good idea to meet them at the door and welcome them over the threshold. It’s not so scary if the invitation is to: “come and see – with me.”

 Listen! God is calling you.  God is calling you to listen to God’s Word – and be renewed in the knowledge that you are God’s beloved child.  God is calling you to bring your cares and concerns to God in prayer and to take time to listen for God’s response. And God is calling you to action, to invite your friends, family and neighbors to: “Come and see Jesus with me.”

 Listen! God is calling and Jesus has issued the invitation to you, God’s beloved child: Come and see.  

Sunday, January 7, 2024

Sermon:  Mark 1:4-11                        Mark’s Birth Story

 I know I’ve probably said it before, but it’s worth repeating, I love the Gospel of Mark.  It’s probably my favorite, with John coming in close second.  I know, Mark has a reputation for being difficult to understand, hard to preach on, and sparse on details, and his ending was considered so unacceptable even in the century it was composed, that at least one scribe tagged on a second, longer ending that he felt was more appropriate, more believable, and more similar to the other three gospels.  But to be honest, I even love Mark’s abrupt and seemingly impossible ending.  I loved Mark even before I took the class from Dr. Fredrickson.  And I love it even more, after taking that class.

You see, I knew Mark’s Gospel was the first written—the first attempt at telling the Jesus story.  So, I guess, in a way, I always trusted it more than the more elaborate gospels composed later. Furthermore, Mark was a pioneer.  He took a literary form (the evangelion or gospel) normally used exclusively as a sort of heroic biography of Kings and Emperors, and adapted it to tell the story of Jesus, a nobody from Nazareth that is secretly the Son of God, Emperor of the Universe, and Savior of the Cosmos.  So, despite its brevity and all its purported shortcomings (pun intended), Matthew and Luke each used it as their main source material, and incorporated almost all of it into their longer, more detailed gospels.  And since a biographical account, as anybody knows, logically starts with, or at least includes, a birth narrative, some might even question whether Marks gospel qualifies as a gospel, since Mark doesn’t tell us where or who Jesus comes from, nor does Mark record a single detail about Jesus’ miraculous birth.

Or so it would seem.  But today I want to challenge that idea.  Oh, sure, its true that Mark does not tell us about Mary and Joseph, nor about the multiple appearances of angels announcing the Messianic birth, nor about the shepherds and wise men that searched and found baby Jesus lying in a cattle trough in a barn.  Instead, Mark has Jesus show up on the scene as an ordinary Jewish guy at about the age of 30.  He’s just one of droves of adult Jews who go out to repent and be baptized by John, the Baptist, in the Jordan River.  John doesn’t recognize him and doesn’t argue about baptizing him.  He’s just like everybody else, so far as John knows—just another guy in a long line of guys to dunk in the river. 

What?   You don’t hear a birth story in that description?  Huh!  I admit, there’s no hint of the Christmas story we all know and love and just finished celebrating.  Maybe Mark didn’t know that story.  After all, when Jesus started his ministry, he was already an adult of about 30-ish.  He had disciples that, by all accounts, were essentially strangers to him when he invited them to follow him around.  When people heard about his miraculous healings, he began to draw crowds.  But I don’t think people were super interested in where he came from and who his parents were… They were preoccupied with what he could do, what diseases and malformations he could cure, how he could supply bread and fish to feed thousands…and then how he died.  There were no scribes or reporters following him around, asking for private interviews and exclusive stories.  There were not daily or weekly newspapers to read.  Nobody realized how important he was, until he rose from the grave.  That’s what scholars might say.  Biblical scholars like to say that the Gospels were written in reverse, starting with the resurrection and working backward, scouring the Jewish scriptures for clues to his origin, his identity—clues to solve the mystery of the Crucified Messiah. 

Maybe.  Maybe Mark didn’t know the birth stories that Matthew and Luke recorded.  Maybe he wrote his gospel before that information came to light, before that part of Jesus’s life was discovered.  Or maybe he did know them, but chose not to use them.  We can’t know the answer for sure.   We only know that the birth material that Luke and Matthew had access to didn’t make it into Mark’s Gospel. 

So, because I like Mark and think he is undervalued, I’m going to give Mark the benefit of the doubt.  I’m going to propose that Mark chose not to use that birth narrative we so love, for good literary reasons.  He didn’t need them.  He had something better.  That’s right—he had a better birth story to tell.  It’s right here in black and white, right under our noses, and sadly, all those critical scholars totally overlook it, fail to recognize it, along with the reasons Mark used this narrative instead.  The reason is that Mark wants us all to bond with Jesus, to identify with him, because all Christians share the same birth narrative.

Do you recognize it, yet?  If not, that’s okay.  You’re in great company.  I don’t know of a single scholar, no matter how brilliant or celebrated, who has ever pointed it out.  To be honest, I didn’t see it either, until about a week ago.  It’s the one thing that every Christian experiences.  It’s that thing the risen Jesus tells us to go out and do all over the world.  Of course, I’m talking about Jesus’ baptism. 

For Mark, Jesus is born, and anointed at his baptism.  Jesus is born of water and the Spirit.  Jesus becomes the Messiah when the Spirit descends into him as he comes out of the waters of baptism.  Yes, I said into him.  I know the English text says the Spirit descended on him like a dove, but that little Greek preposition translated as on, can also be translated as into, and into is a better translation, not just for grammatical reasons, but because that’s how the Apostle Paul understood it.   The only sources, aside from the Hebrew Bible, that we can say with some certainty that Mark knew of and probably had access to, were the letters of Paul.  Paul wrote frequently in his letters about baptism, insisting that the Spirit enters us in baptism and remains, dwells within us, thereafter, giving us spiritual gifts and equipping us for Discipleship and the Priesthood of All Believers.  After reading and studying the Pauline epistles, Martin Luther came to the same conclusion—the same understanding.  Baptism is the entry of the Holy Spirit into our personhood.

But there’s more.  There’s that voice from Heaven that only Jesus hears.  (Some epiphany, right?  How is it an epiphany if only Jesus hears it?)  It’s an epiphany for us because Mark, who knows that secret, shares it with us, his readers.  We know something no one else in the story knows.  We know God claims Jesus as God’s Son.  We also know, if we remember our catechism, that thing we studied as adolescents to be confirmed, that in baptism, God adopts us, too.   Through baptism, we are all adopted into the family of God.  We all become children of God in the waters of baptism. 

But for Mark, baptism is also the moment when Jesus becomes the Messiah, the anointed King.  These are words of adoption, used for Davidic Kings.  If you look back at the Psalm for today, Psalm 2, you will see similar words.  “You are my Son; today I have begotten you.”  It is believed that this Psalm was used as part of the liturgy in coronation ceremonies for Israel’s Davidic Kings.  Psalm 2 is not a Psalm by David, but for David and his descendants.  God is announcing Jesus as the newly anointed Messiah, the new and forever King of God’s people—the King of Kings who will rule heaven and earth for eternity.  In his baptism, Jesus’ true identity is disclosed, and Jesus is given the throne and the scepter of the power of the Holy Spirit.  But this is a secret Jesus must keep until the appropriate time.  After all, if Herod would kill all male toddlers in Bethlehem to remove Jesus as a threat, then Herod and Caesar would certainly move swiftly to remove the threat of an adult Messiah of Israel. 

But I’m getting off track.  The point is, in the gospel of Mark, Jesus, the Messiah, is born of water and the Holy Spirit, just like you and me.  Jesus is equipped for ministry by the power of the Holy Spirit that dwells within him.  And the Holy Spirit does the same for us.  We all have access to that same Holy Spirit, because it lives within us, transforming us day by day into better disciples, into the likeness of Christ, into the image of God that we were intended to be in this world, but which has been damaged and tarnished by sin.  We are all God’s children, adopted in baptism, chosen, and called to transform the world, or at least, the neighborhoods in which we live and work and minister. 

Okay, I admit, none of us probably saw the heavens open, or the Spirit descending into us.  But how could we, when we were probably all baptized indoors, and we probably weren’t looking up.  And maybe we didn’t hear God’s voice calling out to us that we are God’s beloved children, after all, some of us were probably busy exercising our lungs, crying about being rudely and repeatedly splashed with water.  But that doesn’t mean those things didn’t happen.  I believe God calls to each and every one of us, all the time, telling us that we are loved, that we are God’s, that we belong—and reminding us that we matter, that we have work to do, and that we have been given talents appropriate for the tasks we’ve been assigned.  Maybe, if we are quiet enough, and listen for that still, small, loving voice long enough, often enough, close enough…maybe, just maybe, we will here God whispering to us, telling us the truths we need to embrace in order to live into our baptismal identities as God’s beloved children, in whom God takes great pleasure.  And if we, like Jesus, accept the ministry tasks set before us, trusting the Holy Spirit to empower and sustain us, maybe we can make a difference in this world…one life at a time.

Sunday, December 31, 2023

Reflection:    Keeping the Whole Story Together

I’ve always been told that Christians are Easter people.  And I’ve always assumed this to be true.  After all, Easter is Resurrection and Salvation.  And yet, every year I see the Christmas Spirit work the most beautiful transformation in all of us, supposedly Easter people.  We become more loving, more compassionate, more generous, more joyful—to be honest—we become more Christ-like.  I’m sure you’ve noticed it, too.  After all, there’s a reason that charities solicit and receive most of their donations at Christmas, right?  So, I began to wonder, are we really, truly, Easter people—the sort of Easter people God intends us to be?

Then a few years ago, I sang a duet with my son, Rhylan for church the week after Christmas.  It may have even been on New Year’s Eve, just like today.  The Song was “When the Angel’s Song Is Silent” by Mary Kay Beall.  Listen to the climax of the song.

When the angels’ song is silent

And the prophecy’s fulfilled,

When the swaddling clothes are folded

And the baby’s cry is stilled,

When the angels’ song is silent

And the drama is all done.

Then the promise of Christmas begins.

For the promise is more than a child in the hay,

More than shepherds and kings and a glad Christmas day.

Yes, the promise is more than a bright star above,

It’s a cross!  And a tomb!  And a Father’s great love.

When the angels’ song is silent

And the kings have come and gone,

All the world is changed forever

For the echo lingers on.

When the angel’s song is silent

God is nearer than before,

And the promise of Christmas…begins.

This song convinced my head of something that I think my heart, maybe yours too, already knew, but which my brain had somehow forgotten—that Easter is tied to Christmas.  Neither one stands on its own.  Easter is only part of the story.  Easter is the fulfillment of the promises of Christmas.  Without Christmas there could be no Easter.  Without Easter, Christmas would be a day like any other.  Each gives meaning to the other.  We need the whole story to experience a complete and lasting transformation of life and spirit.  The church has always known this.  That’s why we celebrate them both every year.  Separately.  But maybe we need to bring them together.  What might happen if we did that?  What might happen in us? in the world? 

So, the scientist in me wants to know—what would happen if we lived as though every day were Christmas in our hearts, AND as though every day were Easter in our souls?  To find out, I propose the following simple experiment.  This year, when it comes time to put away all your Christmas decorations, choose at least one to keep out all year long.  Put it someplace conspicuous—where you‘ll see it every day.  If you can, place it near a cross or an Easter decoration that you look at often.  And when you look at that Christmas symbol, hum a few bars of “O Little Town of Bethlehem” or your favorite Christmas carol, and whisper a little prayer asking Jesus to be born in your heart again, today, and every day, as long as you live.  Then remind yourself that Christmas is a promise fulfilled at Easter, and ask God to help you celebrate Easter in your soul, every day, eternally.  Because the Jesus of Christmas is always a light in the darkness that can’t be extinguished; Emmanuel, God with Us and within us; the babe in the manger full of hope and promise, who makes peace on earth seems possible.  And the Christ Jesus of Easter is always Christ crucified, the Resurrected Savior, the triumph of the empty tomb, Christ ascended and preparing a place for us where we can spend eternity with him; the one who brings heaven near, within our reach, and convinces us there is nothing to fear.  We need them both—all the time.

I’m not suggesting you’ll suddenly feel completely different.  We’ve been keeping Christmas and Easter separate for a long time so, it may take a while to notice a change.  Transformation tends to occur gradually.  But I dare you to give it a try.  I double dog dare you!  If I’m wrong, all you’ve done is leave out one or two Christmas decorations all year—decorations you won’t have to unpack again next year.  But, if my suspicions are correct, if it makes a significant difference… just think what we might do, as people who hold the entire story within us, people who celebrate it every day, who let it live in us and through us—as if it were always Christmas in our hearts, and forever Easter in our souls.  Some German soldiers initiated a temporary ceasefire and enjoyed meaningful fellowship with their enemies in the midst of World War I on Christmas day, 1914, just by singing some Christmas carols in the trenches.*  What might we accomplish as a community that celebrates both Christmas and Easter every day?  What’s possible for a people who carry the entire message in our hearts and souls, who know that the “Alleluias” beside the manger are echoed in the “Hallelujahs” beside the empty tomb?  I’d like to find out.  Wouldn’t you?

* https://www.history.com/news/christmas-truce-1914-world-war-i-soldier-accounts

Sunday, December 24, 2023 Christmas Eve

JOY!

December 24, 2023 + Faith-Lilac Way + Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

“Look at that! Are those Northern lights?”

 My eyes flew open. I must have fallen asleep. It had been a long day of planning, preparing, and packing – followed by delays of a car repair along the way. So, we were traveling much later than we had planned – but what a magnificent reward!

The driver wanted a better look – so we took the next exit and drove into the parking lot of a gas station at the top of the hill. There were other people there – but they seemed completely oblivious to the natural wonder that was happening right before our eyes. I was so excited that I almost said to them – “don’t you see the Northern lights? Look up!”  But then, as I peered into the sky, I discovered that I could see nothing – nothing but the glaring lights of the gas station. Not to be denied, we started down the road again… and this time, when it was dark enough for us to see the Northern lights, we pulled over and gazed at the beautiful colors in the sky. It was enough to take your breath away…

and when, finally, we went on our way, I couldn’t stop talking about it.

 Reflecting back on this moment, I was surprised to realize that I needed to get into the darkness, away from the blaring lights of the city – or in this case the gas station lights – in order to let my eyes feast upon the beauty of the night sky spectacle.

 While this beautiful and somewhat rare natural phenomenon is nothing compared to a whole host of angels, I wonder if that is how the shepherds felt that night as they returned, full of joy and “glorifying and praising God for all that they had seen.” 

 But… that’s not how they began.

 They began in darkness. Luke tells us that the shepherds were living in the fields “keeping watch over their flock by night.” This sounds rather pastoral. But… the night shift wasn’t a plumb job. Sheep are not the cuddly creatures that stuffed animal manufacturers have made them out to be. They tend to follow their nose to the next sweet blade of grass, with no sense of where they are going or what dangers might be lurking there. As a result, sheep are vulnerable prey to all sorts of predators. They need caregivers. As for the shepherds, sometimes they are given a bad rap as being ruffians – but they were generally quite ordinary people working to provide a livelihood for their families. Perhaps for some of them it was even a calling. But regardless of their status, in order to do  their job and to protect the sheep, shepherds needed to watch and listen and to always be on the lookout for storms and predators.

 I’ve heard that animals are often more sensitive to the world around them than we humans are. And so maybe the sheep were restless that night, sensing something, maybe even the rustle of wings. Perhaps their restlessness tipped off the shepherds to pay attention. Or maybe the shepherds were just doing their ordinary patrol. In any case, they certainly were not too busy or sleepy or distracted, because when the angel of the Lord stood before them, the shepherds noticed. In fact, they were terrified.1

 And yet, the shepherds were not so afraid that they could not listen.  They listened to the Good News that one angel gave them and then a whole host of angels sang to them.  And then they got curious. “Let’s go” they said. “Let’s go see!” And once they saw Jesus – identified as the baby who they would find in a manger – they were filled with JOY and couldn’t stop talking about Jesus and what they had seen.

 These shepherds are not so different from us. Like the shepherds, we can notice our environment; listen to the Good News of God – our messengers might be ordinary people rather than an angelic host, but like the shepherds, we can get curious, curious enough about where God is leading us, that we take action to follow God’s path.

 So what was it that gave them joy? Their situation had not changed. They hadn’t won the lottery. They were still shepherds and they still had to go back and care and protect their sheep even at night, even in the dark.  And it wasn’t even seeing the terrifyingly wonderful angel chorus. It was only after they had seen Jesus that a deep and rich joy started bubbling up inside of them, a joy that was not dependent upon their ordinary lives. 

 For the world did not suddenly become “nice” when the Christ child was born. The rulers and armies of Rome were still there oppressing the people. The world was not at peace.

 Instead, as Pastor Nadia Bolz-Weber writes, the Christmas story “reveals a God who has entered our world as it actually exists, and not as the world we often wish it would be.”2

 Jesus is not born into a fairy tale castle nor does he pose for a Norman Rockwell painting where everything is “perfect.” Instead, he is born to an unwed mother, supported by a man who is not her husband or his father. Jesus comes into the messiness of our world, into the darkness, the chaos and all of the challenges that we face… and stays. Jesus comes as Emmanuel, God With Us.  

 A father and his young son were walking on a path when they came to a long tunnel. As they continued on the path, the tunnel became darker and darker. When it got too dark to see, the boy grabbed his father’s hand and they walked in the darkness together.  It was only as the boy and his father neared the end of the tunnel, and they could see, once again, the path before them, that the boy unclasped his father’s hand and raced on ahead to explore, calling back to his father, “come and see.”

 Isn’t that the way it is with us? We come to dark, tough, challenging times in our lives. Sometimes the world seems so dark and hopeless that it is hard for us to see anything – not even that God – Emmanuel – God With Us is right beside us… and stays beside us - no matter how long it takes. God is With Us in all the dark places of our lives.

 A United Nations peacekeeper, Hizkias Assefa, works in some of the most violent nations of the world. It’s difficult, often heartbreaking work. When asked how he keeps going, Assefa simply replied, “I am Christian. For Christians, hopelessness is not an option.” 3 For God is With Us – even in the darkest of times, even in the shelled out ruins of apartment building, even in the wreckage of our lives after tragedy. God is with us – and never gives up loving us and caring for us.

 Instead, God offers us the opportunity to be transformed by Christ’s love and grace – every day. Wherever you encounter the power of God’s love and grace, whether it is in the bread and wine of communion – that’s God incarnate – or when you see Christ in the candlelight reflected in your neighbor’s face; or when you see Christ in the world around you, you, like the shepherds in Bethlehem, have seen the face of Christ. Jesus Christ is the source of all our joy. This is why we too can share the Good News of Christ. This is why we can join the shepherds in praising God and singing out with joy. Amen.

 --------------------

1 Janet Hunt, Dancing with the Word
2Audacious Hope:Christmas 2016 ,Bishop Mariann | Dec 15, 2016 https://edow.org/2016/12/15/audacious-hope-christmas-2016/

3 Ibid

Sunday, December 17, 2023

Answering God’s Call                         Luke 1:26-38

Our Gospel text for today is generally referred to as the Annunciation, meaning the announcement of the impending birth of the Messiah, and it is definitely that—and more.  It is also Mary’s call story.  Although call stories don’t usually include conversations with angels, let alone an archangel who provides his name, miraculous birth announcements usually do come from angels.  In this story, Gabriel is doing double duty.  He is announcing the birth of the Messiah, and calling Mary, a teenager of about 13 or 14 years, to serve God in a very particular role—as the Mother of Jesus, the only begotten Son of God. 

Mary is confused by the angel’s presence, and the notion that she is favored by God.  She is an ordinary girl.  None of the Gospels indicate she comes from a wealthy or important family.  She knows, just as we do, that according to the Jewish scriptures, angels seldom appear to women, much less children or teenage girls. She listens to the message, and as most people who receive such a call, she asks a clarifying question.  She doesn’t ask “Why?”, or “Why me?”  She doesn’t argue or object, like the prophets usually do.  She doesn’t even ask when.  In fact, her one question suggests that she assumes this is all to take effect pretty much immediately.  She just asks, “How?  How can this happen?”

Either Mary’s mother hasn’t had that talk with her—you know the one I mean—the “what happens on the wedding night talk” or Mary expects this to occur almost immediately, before her marriage is to be consummated.  Gabriel’s response doesn’t really provide a clear answer, but the process doesn’t seem to involve Joseph.  The angel doesn’t just answer and leave.  He offers Mary a sign, which she never asked for, and tells her nothing is impossible for God, as reasons to believe the message, to trust God.  Then Gabriel waits for Mary to either accept or refuse the call. 

My call story doesn’t involve an angel, and I wasn’t called until I was about forty.  I first heard it about twenty years ago, when my family was living in Idaho.  We had 5 kids.  I had been leading worship, teaching and overseeing the Sunday school program, and I had written and directed a children’s Christmas program.  I had done nearly all of these things before, beginning at about the same age as Mary, but never all at once.  I received no dream, no vision. I didn’t hear the voice of God calling to me in the night.  It was just a feeling, a desire I had begun to experience—a notion I couldn’t shake.  It just felt right, like it was what I was meant to do.  Kevin and I had just gone to bed, and I decided to tell him about it. “Sometimes I wonder if, maybe, I missed my calling—that maybe I was supposed to be a pastor.” 

Kevin, bless his heart, didn’t stop to silently consider his next words.  Without missing a single beat, he replied, “You know, I’ve been thinking the same thing.  I think you’d make a great pastor.”  After talking about it for a little while, we agreed to look into the possibility of me becoming attending seminary.

We spent a few weeks of googling, looking into seminaries and talking to someone who had just graduated from seminary.  The nearest one was a Methodist seminary 755 miles away in Seattle, WA.  The nearest ELCA seminary was 800 miles away in California. At that time, seminaries were only just beginning to offer partially online programs, and even then, students were required to spend three months or more on campus each year, which wasn’t feasible with 5 young kids at home, and the cost was equally impossible.  So, just like Mary, we asked, “How is this possible?”  We didn’t get an answer, so we just agreed to keep praying, asking God for direction, a clearly marked path to follow.

Sometimes we receive our calling well in advance.  Often there is a journey required, and the road we must travel is long and winding and full of potholes, and the destination is unclear.  Every call, every journey is unique. 

Mary went straight to her cousin, Elizabeth, to confirm the sign, and maybe, to get an idea of what she had just signed up for.  She stayed three months, and it seems she was with child when she returned.

About two years later, we moved to Rochester.  Both Kevin and I had taken research positions at Mayo Clinic, having tabled the idea that I could start seminary until God sent a messenger who could supply a clear road map, and funds for tuition.  I was focused on setting up house, getting the kids adjusted to new schools, and the new baby into daycare, and of course, learning the ropes at my new job.  That winter my dad was diagnosed with a fatal disease and sent home to die.  I took a month off from my new job to help Mom care for him at the end, and help with funeral arrangements.  Seminary fell off my radar.

I’m embarrassed to admit it, but it took about five years for me to realize that God had planted me in the neighborhood of Luther Seminary.  I remember that I was actually looking at Luther’s web page when I got a call from my doctor.  She said I had cancer.  Suddenly there was a giant obstacle in my path, and there was no getting around it.  Every time I got past one roadblock, another cropped up.  My mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease three years later, and we brought her home to live with us. 

I wanted to give up.  I tried to give up, but that call God had put on my heart just kept tugging at me.  The more I tried to convince myself it wasn’t real, that I had been mistaken, the harder it tugged at me.  Worst of all, I felt this terrible guilt over my inability to just drop everything and follow the call.  That’s what I had always been taught you’re supposed to do.  That’s what Peter, Andrew, James and John and all the other disciples did.  They didn’t hesitate.  Neither did Mary.  I had become certain that, even if I could find a way to pay for it, the seminary wouldn’t take me, because I hadn’t just jumped in blindly.  And now I was much older, and doubted whether my brain could handle the curriculum, especially the languages, even if I could get accepted.  I still didn’t know how the process worked, and I still had no way to pay for school.

Answering God’s call is seldom easy.  You really have to be sure of your calling, dedicated, determined and committed to seeing it through.  It wasn’t easy for Mary either.  Mary’s pregnancy was a scandal.  Joseph almost divorced her.  Jesus was born in a barn, far from their home.  Herod would hunt them. They would flee to Egypt as refugees to protect him.   And many would whisper about the likelihood that Jesus was actually illegitimate, and therefore not descended from David, not the true Messiah.  And eventually, Mary would watch her son suffer and die on a Roman cross like a criminal. 

Once my mom’s condition worsened enough that we had to put her in a memory care facility, everything changed.  My pastor drove me up to the seminary, and stood by for moral support as I told the story of my long journey to get there.  To my surprise, they didn’t scold me or judge me as I feared.  Instead, they affirmed my calling.  They told me that God’s call doesn’t just magically remove all my earthly responsibilities.  And they told me that God’s call doesn’t ever expire, nor does it ever disappear.  Then they told me they could provide a scholarship to cover my full tuition for the duration of my schooling.  They explained everything and sent me to the synod to start the candidacy process.  The rest was a crazy roller coaster ride, that is, until now. 

God knew what was in store for me at every stop on this journey.  I just needed to live my life, patiently, until the time was right.  Easier said than done, of course.  The call was like a seed planted in my heart that stubbornly continued to grow so that I would be ready to do what was necessary when the time was right—ready for God’s crazy four-year roller coaster ride. 

Everyone has a call story.  And everyone’s call story is as unique as they are.  Answering any call requires a journey.  But just like Mary’s calling, every calling comes with promises that God fulfills along the way: the promise to equip us for the mission ahead, and the promise to accompany us and support us along the way.  

Looking back now, I realize that I had different callings at different stages of my life.  I was called to be a teacher, a mother, a wife, a scientist, a musician, and now a pastor.  But that may not be the end.  Even when I retire at age 75, God may still have another task for me to do.  And who can guess what that might be?  Mary was called to motherhood, to bring Jesus into the world, and to raise him so that he would be properly prepared for his mission.   Scripture doesn’t tell us, but I suspect that once Jesus was grown and following God’s plan for him, that Mary was called to be a disciple alongside the rest and maybe an apostle as well.  Or maybe God called her to other mission work within the new church. 

But that’s enough about me, and Mary.   Now it’s your turn.  I want to hear your call stories.  Whether you realize it or not, each of you has been called to some form of service as part of the Priesthood of All Believers.  Each and every one of you has been equipped with unique gifts, including both strengths and weaknesses for specific tasks or missions at various points in life.  So, I want to know, what is God calling you to do now?  What is tugging at your heart, urging you to respond somehow?  How has the Holy Spirit equipped you to respond?  Where and when do you feel God’s presence?  Or hear the Spirit whispering?  Where is Christ inviting you to follow?  How and where are you using your gifts?  Listen to your heart, give in to that tugging and pulling sensation.  If Jesus is calling, waiting for an answer, tell him, “Here I am, Lord.  I am ready and willing.  Send me.”

Sunday, December 10, 2023

The Light Shines in the Darkness

December 10, 2023    +   Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran    +    Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

 “Mommy Come! Come!”  My mother came quickly into my room. “What’s wrong?” She asked.“There is a skunk under my bed!”  She flipped on the light. “Let’s see.” Together we looked under my bed. My teddy bear and doll had fallen off the bed. But no skunks. Somehow things looked different with the light on.

 Mine was just a bad childhood dream -- but there are times when our problems are more than childhood nightmares. There are times that we can get discouraged, times when challenges of our world and of our life feel overwhelming and our world feels grim.

 It was into such a world that baby Jesus was born. Israel was occupied by Roman forces. Freedom from oppression seemed like a far-off dream. The people were poor. Nightmares happened during the day.

 John could have begun his Gospel by describing the world in this way. But instead, John turns the light on and casts a cosmic vision of God that hearkens back to the first words of the Bible. In the beginning…

 In the beginning was the WORD and the Word was God. And when God spoke – or maybe sang – the world into being, God created life – and the life was the light of all people.  John shines a light on something new that God is doing that began at the very beginning of time and is continuing today - in you.  Hear the word of hope and promise: The light shines in the darkness – and the darkness cannot overcome it. No matter what the darkness, the challenge, or the nightmare may be: The light of Christ shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot overcome.

Pastor and Poet Steve Garnaas-Holmes invites us to:
Listen for God singing the world into being.
Look for the light shining in the music.
Notice this cosmic song, this act of Creation,
rising in you, unfolding, radiating,
shining in the darkness.

The true light that enlightens everyone
is coming into the world.

And this is why we hope – even in the darkest and most challenging of times. This is why we sing. For the light of the world has come and continues to shine – and the darkness cannot overcome it.  So let us sing with joy-filled hearts for Christ our light has come into the world and no darkness can overcome the love and light of Christ. Thanks be to God. Amen.

1Steve Garnaas-Holmes, www.unfoldinglight.net Permission granted to reproduce a portion of the poem “True Light, Dec 2017”