Luke 19:36-48

36 As Jesus rode along, people kept spreading their cloaks on the road. 37 As he was now approaching the path down from the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power that they had seen, 38 saying,

‘Blessed is the king

   who comes in the name of the Lord!

Peace in heaven,

   and glory in the highest heaven!’

39 Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, ‘Rabbi, order your disciples to stop.’ 40 Jesus answered, ‘I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.’

41 As Jesus came near and saw Jerusalem, he wept over the city, 42 saying, ‘If you, even you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. 43 Indeed, the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up ramparts around you and surround you, and hem you in on every side. 44 They will crush you to the ground, you and your children within you, and they will not leave within you one stone upon another; because you did not recognize the time of your visitation from God.’

45 Then Jesus entered the temple and began to drive out those who were selling things there; 46 and he said, ‘It is written,

“My house shall be a house of prayer”;

   but you have made it a den of robbers.’

47 Every day Jesus was teaching in the temple. The chief priests, the scribes, and the leaders of the people kept looking for a way to kill Jesus; 48 but they did not find anything they could do, for all the people were spellbound by what they heard.

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Please pray with me this morning, church:

Holy God,

Journey with us this Holy Week.

Even as we walk alongside you on your way to the cross,

Walk with us.

Uphold us and sustain us.

Remind us of your great love for us.

Amen.

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This past Monday, April 4, was the 54th anniversary of the assassination of the Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr. Of course, broadly and nationally we remember King every year in January close to the date of his birth, but in the church, we remember saints on or near the date of the death. If you’ve listened to any number of my sermons over the years, you’ll know that I consider the Reverend Doctor King a theological mentor, and I certainly consider him a saint.

And I think, and I hope, that collectively we consider King an important teacher that still has much to teach us.

But as most of you know, it was not always this way. King was vilified in the last years of his life. His family was targeted, he was under ruthless surveillance by the FBI, he was beaten within inches of his life multiple times, imprisoned… Those that were in power at the time, those that benefited from the status quo, from the way things were, would do anything to keep Martin Luther King, Jr. and the movement for civil rights from taking hold and succeeding. Power never gives up that power voluntarily.

The Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr. wasn’t assassinated because he was a nice guy. It wasn’t because he talked too much about love. The Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated because his work threatened to upend the established order and the way things were.

As we begin the culmination of our Lenten pilgrimage and enter into this holiest of weeks, this is your yearly reminder that Jesus, too, wasn’t killed for being a nice guy. Jesus wasn’t crucified because he preached too much about loving your enemies and looking out for the oppressed and vulnerable. Jesus was killed because he threatened the status quo, the established order, and the way things were.

We can hear that pretty clearly in the move from the triumphal entry into Jerusalem to the driving of money changers out of the temple complex. “They kept looking for a way to kill Jesus; but they did not find anything they could do, because everyone was spellbound by what they heard.”

Are you spellbound by what you’ve heard, church? Are you moved deeply? Would you join the stones in shouting out?! When you hear our Gospel narrative this morning, from the parade on a colt and shouts of “Hosanna!” to the lament over Jerusalem and the driving out of commerce in the temple, where do you find yourself? Where do you identify?

Particularly during Holy Week, I think it’s one of the most interesting questions we could ask ourselves: “Where am I in this story? What’s my role in this narrative?” I also happen to think it’s a great spiritual practice, too, by the way; a great piece to add into your bible study or devotion or study of scripture, to ask this question of where you find yourself in the story. Your answer to that question will tell you a lot about yourself, about what’s currently going on in your life. It’s a great tool for self-examination.

So where do you find yourself in this story, church? Where do you participate?

For one, likely in one of the more joyous moments of Holy Week, in an otherwise mostly serious time, is our collective participation in the procession of palms at the beginning of worship. Waving our branches, “All Glory, Laud, and Honor,” the whole bit. So certainly we might imagine ourselves in this processional, in this parade. Perhaps you imagine yourself taking off your own jacket or cloak and laying on the road. Maybe you might climb a tree to get a better view. Waving your branches, shouting “Hosanna!”, hailing Jesus as Lord and king…that’s a fairly easy entry point, I think. But what about the temple complex later? Do you find yourself there, with Jesus and the disciples? Are you one of the ones being drive out by Jesus? Are you doing the chastising and chasing along with Jesus? Do you find yourself more in alignment with the religious leaders…”This kind of trouble-making just can’t continue… Something must be done about this Jesus…” Are you more of a bystander…waiting to see which way the winds of public opinion shift and change?

Where you find yourself in these stories will tell you a lot about what’s going on in your life and within yourself.

I think a lot about the shift from triumphal entry to the meat of Holy Week—the betrayal, arrest, and crucifixion. How many of those folks who cried out “Hosanna!” were echoing shouts of “Crucify him!” only a few days later? Was it the situation in the temple complex, the driving out of commerce that clued them in? “Whoa…I don’t know about all this, Jesus…”

Do you ever find yourself in a situation that you thought was going to go one way, but then takes a hard turn and now, all of a sudden, you’re not so sure if this is the same thing you showed up for in the first place?

The triumphal procession into Jerusalem is a fairly easy entry point because we literally walked a similar path at the beginning of worship. It’s joyous, it’s celebratory, it’s a little like Easter, and it’s everything we imagine following Jesus would be like. But this kind of parade wasn’t necessarily a joyous occasion for all that were present that day. Was it a parade? Or was it a protest march? The lines between those two can get rather fine.

I’ll explain.

The whole gospel narrative this morning, from procession to the actions in the temple courtyard, all of it is best understood as street theater—using very public displays as a way of conveying a message or making a statement to a large crowd. A parade? Or a protest?

I’ve been to and even participated in a fair number of parades. 4th of July parades, holiday parades, Pride parades… I’ve also been to and participated in a fair number of protests. Rallies for marriage equality, protests for affordable housing…just a few years ago, I joined some other New Hope folks and the Fort Bend Interfaith Council and some student leaders from Fort Bend ISD who had organized a March for Our Lives in response to gun violence at schools. Pride parades kind of walk this line, I think… Is it a parade? Or a protest? …yes… It’s kind of like all protests are parades but not all parades are protests, right?

See, when the emperor, the Caesar, won a military victory, there was a parade. The Caesar would ride into town on a white horse, with trumpets blaring, wearing a crown of olive branches or laurels. The people would throw down flowers at the Caesar’s feet and shout things like “Hail, glorious ruler! Praise be to the savior! Praise be to our messiah! Praise to the Caesar, the son of god!”

Sound familiar? The words should…

Jesus’ triumphal entry is a total inversion of this. Not a majestic white horse, but a colt. Not flowers and olive branches, but cloaks and garments spread at his feet. Not a wreath of laurels, but later a crown of thorns. Jesus’ parade walks this line of protest. It’s a mockery of Rome and the Caesar and the Roman imperial rule. Jesus completely cuts against the grain of what they thought a Messiah was. And honestly, Jesus completely cuts against the grain of what we think a Messiah is like, too. Not a mighty conqueror, but a humble servant. Not ruling through victory and oppression, but the Prince of Peace. Not a crown of gold, but a crown of thorns. Not a throne, but a cross.

And then later, in the temple courtyard, Jesus messes with the economics of things, the economics of the religious system and the economics of the empire. And once you start messing with the money of the people in power, the people in power don’t let you do that for much longer.

“They kept looking for a way to kill Jesus; but they did not find anything they could do, because everyone was spellbound by what they heard.”

Jesus was crucified because the message he was preaching threatened the established norms and systems of power.

How many of those who cried “Hosanna!” and lauded Jesus as Savior didn’t stick around once things started to get heated at the temple? I wonder if they found themselves in a situation that they thought was going to go one way, but then took a hard turn and now, all of a sudden, they’re not so sure if this is the same thing they showed up for in the first place. Is this a parade or a protest? “You know, I was with him through the love your enemies thing and making a mockery of the emperor, but I just don’t know if I can go along with the whole destruction of property…” Right…? Right…?

What does it mean, church, to follow Jesus?

What does it mean to go where Jesus calls his disciples to follow?

Where will you find yourself in this story? Where will you participate?

As we conclude our Lenten pilgrimage and begin our journey through Holy Week, I would remind you, as I do every year, that this is the most important week in the life of a Christian, and each part of the story, each piece of the narrative is important. Your participation is critically important.

Easter Sunday is incredibly joyous, but you don’t get to the resurrection without first going through the tomb. It’s really only because of the context of Maundy Thursday and Good Friday that the joy and celebration of Easter matter at all.

Don’t opt out. Commit.

Commit to being present for the full depth of these worship services.

Decide.

Decide how you will participate.

Commit to your role in this story.

Commit to making time and space in your life for this story of your salvation.

You will confront some pretty deep truths about yourself… The need to have your feet washed…the need to adopt the humble posture of Christ…the ways in which we still sacrifice and seek to silence those that speak difficult truths to us that maybe we don’t want to hear, but by God, we need to…the ways in which we still try to bury love…and the ways we continue to dig graves for ourselves…

But here’s the thing, church…we don’t confront these ugly truths not knowing what’s coming on the other side of Good Friday…

But…you do have to go through Good Friday.

You don’t get resurrection without the cross.

But resurrection is coming, church.

Love dies, but Love is also resurrected.

Reborn anew in you, in us, in the world…

Commit.

Participate.

I promise you, you will find renewal in these stories and in these rituals…

This is the story of your salvation.

Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

1 Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to Jesus. 2 And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.”

 3 So Jesus told them this parable: 11b “There was a man who had two sons. 12 The younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.’ So the father divided his property between his sons. 13 A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living.

14 When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. 15 So the younger son went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. 16 He would gladly have filled himself with the pods and tubers that the pigs were eating; and no one gave the son anything. 17 But when the young son came to himself, when he came to his right mind, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough, and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! 18 I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.”’ 20 So the younger son set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; the father ran and put his arms around his son and kissed him. 21 Then the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ 22 But the father said to his servants, ‘Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23 And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; 24 for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!’ And so they began to celebrate.

 25 “Now the older son was off in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. 26 He called one of the servants and asked what was going on. 27 The servant replied, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.’ 28 Then the older brother became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. 29 But the older son answered his father, ‘Listen! For all these years I have been working like a servant for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!’ 31 Then the father said to his older son, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.’”

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Please pray with me this morning, church:

Loving God,

You are lavish and extravagant with your gifts.

Especially your gifts of love.

Love us back to life, this morning.

Love us back to ourselves.

Love us back to you.

Amen.

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Who doesn’t love a good party…?

Well, the older son, apparently… A long while ago, when Tiffany and I were planning our wedding (Gosh, we’re getting old, y’all…) there wasn’t a lot of back and forth spent on the kind of celebration we wanted to have and where we wanted to have it. We got married out of college and had attended a fair number of weddings at that point and they were all great times, but we both had this idea of the kind of party we wanted to have and the people that we wanted to be there. For us, it was much more about having our family and friends there and everyone just really enjoying themselves. So we ended up having our reception at the Ballpark in Arlington, and we had hamburgers and hot dogs and cracker jack and lots of cake and an open bar. And it was one of the best parties I’d ever been to.

I mean, who doesn’t love a good party?

This parable, known as the prodigal…well, you probably learned it, like me, as the prodigal son, right? Well folks smarter than me have started calling it just “The Prodigal” or even “The Prodigal Father” which I find interesting. So I went to my trusty google machine…see, I guess I always thought that prodigal meant like, “the returning son” or “the son who came back” and as it turns out, that’s not what prodigal means at all. To be prodigal is to be lavish, very loose with money, “wastefully extravagant” is what Oxford says. Wastefully extravagant. Well, in that way, I suppose the younger son is prodigal; he squanders the inheritance, he blows through all his money. But I wonder, is the younger son the only wastefully extravagant person in this story? No, I would argue. Because when the younger son comes to himself and returns home, his father throws off his robe, throws of his shoes, goes bounding down the road, scoops up his son into his arms, dresses him, feeds him, clothes him, lavishes gifts on him, and says, “We’re going to have a giant party! Kill the calf. Invite everyone. This. Is. A. Celebration!” A wastefully extravagant party.

Who doesn’t love a good party?

When I was planning out our worship theme for this Lenten season and reading through the lessons and everything, this parable was one of the ones that really spoke to me and one of the reasons I landed on Unburden as our Lenten theme. See, the whole idea is that we’ve all really been through a lot over the past couple of years and, truthfully, a lot of us are carrying around a bunch of stuff that’s built up, and we really need a place where we can come and set some of that stuff down. As I’ve said, the invitation to Unburden is an invitation to live into an expansive idea of Lent—rather than the idea of taking away and depriving, what if Lent was a season that invited you to fill up, to be refreshed and renewed? Unburden yourself.

I was also thinking about the fever pitch we’ve all been living with the past few years or so, this feeling that we’ve been drifting further and further apart from one another, even apart from folks we might have been very close to before. And when we start to see each other not as siblings and co-workers in God’s vineyard, but rather as viewpoints and opinions to be won over, we start to view one another as combatants, and so we sort of hurl aspersions at each other, lobbing insults or snide remarks, these kind of stones and rocks and boulders that, I think, we really do intend to harm one another. And so the invitation this season is to unburden yourself, not just of those stones and aspersions, but of the weight that builds up on you when you carry around these feelings of ill-will and opposition and distrust and distaste for your neighbor.

Unburden yourself, dear church.

Because that weight eats at you. It weighs you down further and further until you’re stooping lower and lower until you can hardly stand under the heaviness of it. But it does eat away at you. Sort of, gnawing at you from the inside. I would even say slowly choking the life out of you.

Unburden yourself, so that you might live.

I wonder who you think needs the unburdening in Jesus’ parable this morning? Where do you see life being choked out? Whose shoulders are stooping lower and lower under all that weight?

Is it the younger son being crushed by the weight of having to return home to his family having blown through his entire inheritance? Is it the father carrying around the weight of letting his young son go off in the first place? Is the older son’s grudges and resentfulness of his younger brother, and maybe even his father? Is it the scribes and Pharisees that Jesus is talking to in the first place? Is it you, dear reader and hearer?

That’s one of my favorite things about parables…many, many entrances and many, many exits…infinite ways of interpretation…

I think very often we view ourselves as the younger son…trotting off to some exotic place with all God has given us, only to end up squandering these gifts and feeling guilty and so we feel like we have to return to God with nothing to show and kind of beg God to be forgiving and to take us back… I think that’s kind of a classic interpretation.

I wonder if this morning you might see the ways in which you’re very often much like the older son…responsible, doing what you’re supposed to, but you turn indignant and self-righteous when those that you feel like squander the gifts they’re given come sulking back and receive such lavish gifts of compassion and forgiveness even though you were the responsible one, not them… Scandalous grace… That’s the kind of stuff I’m talking about that eats at you from the inside…that’s the kind of stuff that slowly deprives you of life…

Could you receive the father’s gifts to the younger son as invitations to you, as well. See what love the father has for his sons… See what love God has for God’s children… I do think the father figure in this parable tells us something important about the nature of God. The father didn’t even let the younger son finish his rehearsed apology. The son couldn’t even ask to be treated like a hired hand. “Clean him! Dress him! Feed him!” the father says. The father doesn’t wait for the son to trudge all the way up the long winding road to the house…the father sees his son from far off and throws off all decorum and propriety, robe flapping in the wind, shoes flying off his feet, “My child! My child!”

See what love God has for God’s children…

The wasteful extravagance of the father. “Kill the best calf. Throw the biggest party. Invite everyone.”

“This child of mine was dead…and is alive again…”

God loves us back to life. Even, and especially when we’re so good at holding onto those things that slowly deprive us life from the inside.

God is wastefully extravagant with you, dear child… Always seeking you out. Always calling you home. Guiding you to return. Loving you. Forgiving you. God’s nature is one of extravagance and abundance.

Like the father in the parable, God is always longing for a reunion, running toward you, gathering you up, calling you by name, rejoicing in your return, celebrating your change of heart, forgiving you.

Loving you back to life. Even and especially when you find it so difficult to love yourself, dear one.

And if this is the nature of God, how then are we to be, those of us who bear the name of Christ?

Set down your heaviness, dear church. Set down your stones and aspersions.

Set aside your grudges and indignation. They do not serve you.

Unburden yourself, dear child.

Come join the party.

Luke 13:31-35

31 At that very hour some Pharisees came and said to Jesus, “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.” 32 Jesus said to them, “Go and tell that fox for me, ‘Listen, I am casting out demons and healing people today and tomorrow, and on the third day I complete my work. 33 Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is not possible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.’ 34 O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her babies under her wings, and you were not willing! 35 But see, now your house is left to you. And I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when you say, ‘Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.’”

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Please pray with me this morning, church:

God of refuge,

Like a mother hen, you desire to draw your children close.

Draw us close to your heart this morning.

Help us to trust in the midst of life’s difficulties.

Give us courage and boldness

To carry that trust and hope for our neighbors.

Amen.

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1 year, 11 months, 26 days, 22 hours, and 46……47 minutes…

2 days and 2 hours shy of 2 full years.

It was nearly 2 years ago this morning—730 days—that we were sitting over in the Community Center, in Room 3, our Jr. High/Confirmation room, with our Capital Campaign Leadership Team, plus a couple of folks from our Church Council, planning what was supposed to be the kickoff and launch of our Capital Campaign the next day.

Instead, my mind was split. Our Council President at the time, John Tipton, and I had both been poring over news reports and data and this new tool that Fort Bend County had come out with to begin tracking this new virus that no one had heard of before but was apparently spreading very rapidly.

So instead of launching our Campaign the next day as originally planned, we finished our morning of planning and John and I got on a call with as many Council members as we could rustle up and made the excruciating decision to cancel in-person services the next day, to go “virtual” (whatever that means, we thought at the time), and to just play it all by ear as we were reluctantly dragged into a global pandemic, the ramifications of which we certainly didn’t understand at the time, and I would argue, we’re still learning more and more each day.

It’s been a long 2 years, friends…

And by the way, a pandemic isn’t the only thing we’ve been dealing with in our lives, right? Conversations about racial justice, fights for equality, divisive politics, stock markets going wild, economies all over the place, extreme layoffs, hiring freezes, now-record job numbers, inflation, recession, gas prices…you name it… We’ve been through the ringer, church.

And yet, if you’re like me, you still get up every morning, God-willing, wash your face, and try to put one foot in front of the other, and do the best you can with what you have…trying to be kind to as many people as you can and help as many people as you can, because certainly folks are fighting battles that you know nothing about.

“Oh Jerusalem…city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it.”

Once again, the author of Luke is trying to set Jesus up in line with the prophets, specifically probably Isaiah, but for the author of Luke, Jesus certainly stands in this lineage. Jesus knows the fate that awaits the prophets…Jesus knows the cost of speaking with a prophetic voice. Remember just a few weeks ago, “Very truly, I tell you, a prophet is never welcomed in the prophet’s own hometown.” And then right after that, the good God-fearing people of Nazareth ran Jesus out of town right to the edge of cliff to hurl him off. The hometown kid is cheered and celebrated right up until the hometown kid speaks a word of challenge or threatens to turn things upside down…even if by turning things upside down, God’s vision for the world gets turned right-side up.

What is it about challenging words that bristles us and makes us act out?

Maybe we could all just use some more hugs…

Now, look…I am fully aware that hugs are not for everyone. I’m serious in this suggestion, but I will say with full disclosure that my love language is touch…I love hugs. But not everyone loves hugs. Some of you are sitting here this morning thinking, “I swear to you, if you try and hug me, we’re going to have a lot bigger issues than how I feel about prophetic words…”

Noted. But…have you ever tried to be mad at someone or a situation when you’re being hugged? I’m just saying. I try to do this with Oliver when he gets upset, I try and hug him until he calms down……it doesn’t work. I get kicked and punched and walk away with bruises and black eyes and a crushed spirit… He’s like Tiffany…they don’t like hugs…clearly their love language is not touch.

But one of the things that has become a favorite pastime in the Michaelis house in recent months is building forts…or “schforts”…or, we’ve started calling them “yurts”… y’s are just easier than f’s at this point… So very much against my desire to have all the couch cushions and pillows stay on the couch, we’ve developed quite the elaborate way of getting these walls built up with doors and windows in them, and then covering the whole thing with a large sheet to act as a roof. Do you remember building pillow forts? Have you crawled in one recently?

I forgot how awesome they are. There’s a sense of hiding, a sense of imagination, a sense of security, and a sense of protection when you’re in this small enclosed space…at least, I find that for me. There’s a sense in which the outside world kind of melts away and you could just hide out in this little house, or yurt, or cave, or whatever you wanted it to be…

“How I have longed to gather you together like a mother hen gathers her babies under her wings…”

God’s desire is to provide shelter. To provide safety. To provide security. God’s desire is to cover her children, wrap them in her arms, and protect them with her wings. If I’m honest, most days I feel like I could use a little protection, a little safety and security. I’ve already told you, most days a hug wouldn’t be the worst thing I’m offered.

But here’s the other thing about being covered and being sheltered…when we feel safe…when we feel protected…when we feel secure…it’s then that we can drop our guard a little bit, let down our defenses, and maybe unload some of the heaviness we’ve been carrying around. As we talk about Unburden-ing this Lent, one of the ways we feel safe to do that is when we feel protected and secure. It’s from that place and feeling of security that we are free to be vulnerable, to name our fears, and to work out together how we’ll move forward from here.

It’s one of the things we haven’t been largely able to do as a congregation for 2 years. Being physically separated from one another, for the health and safety of all our members, we haven’t really had the opportunity to work through together some of the big things that have happened in our lives and in our world. We haven’t had the space to be vulnerable with one another, to look each other in the eyes and tell one another how we feel and how we wish things were different.

But church, we do have that opportunity now.

As we begin to make our way, God-willing, through the end of and out of this pandemic, we’re doing so at a time of critical importance to this congregation. Next week, March 20, will be the Commitment Sunday of our Building on Hope Capital Campaign. We’ll have a great morning of worship and then a celebration of the Grand Re-Opening of our Community Center. I so hope to see every one of you next week. In worship, we’ll pray together and fill out our pledges together, and offer what we can to help us continue Building on Hope.

It’s also when I feel safe and secure that I find that it’s much easier for me to trust God to do what God promises God will do. Like Abram, sometimes I have trust issues. But when I feel covered and protected, I find that trust comes a little easier. 2 years ago, right as we pivoted to virtual worship, right when we were about to launch our Campaign, Tiffany and I talked about what our response to this opportunity would be. How would we lend our help to help New Hope continue Building on Hope. “What if we just…doubled our offering?” I said. “Like, what if we just gave as much to the Capital Campaign as we do in our regular offerings to the General Fund?”

I got an eyebrow raise… Tiffany asked, “I mean, can we do that? Does that still work with our budget?”

“I think so…but…what if we just took this step in faith?”

I’m a numbers and data guy. I like to know something’s going to work out before I try it. But in this case, it felt like a very faithful thing to do. And so for the past 2 years, we’ve given as much to our Building on Hope Capital Campaign as we have in our General Offerings…and we’ll continue doing it for the next 3 years. Because what we’ve found for the past 2 years is that God has provided. God, indeed, keeps God’s promises. God does intend abundant life and flourishing for God’s people.

There has always been enough. Even when things were tough…there has always been enough.

My family believe in the mission and ministry of New Hope, church.

We believe in this church. I believe in you, church.

I believe in you because for 5 1/2 years, I’ve seen the ways that you provide shelter and refuge and safety and security for others, for your neighbors. This is the mission and ministry of New Hope Lutheran Church. This is the hope and vision for our Building on Hope Capital Campaign…to continue being a place of safety and refuge, a shelter from life’s storms.

This is the vision, church. And I’m asking for your help to do it.

I’m asking you…to step out with me in faith.

When we feel secure and protected, we trust God to do what God does…we trust God to keep God’s promises, we trust God to provide, and we trust God to help us out when we inevitably mess it up.

Good stewardship is recognizing that all we have and all we are comes to us from God. We give because God first gave to us. We are generous because God has first been generous to us.

It’s a relationship founded on trust.

Good stewardship is nothing more than trust in God.

It’s been a long 2 years, friends…

But I can’t wait for what’s next.

I’m so excited for all the years to come.

Luke 4:1-13

1 Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit into the wilderness, 2 where for forty days he was tempted by the Accuser. Jesus ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished. 3 The Accuser said to Jesus, “Since you’re the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.” 4 Jesus answered the Accuser, “It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone.’”

  5 Then the Accuser led Jesus up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world.

6 And the Accuser said to Jesus, “To you I will give their glory and all this authority; for it has been given over to me, and I give it to anyone I please. 7 If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours.” 8 Jesus answered the Accuser, “It is written, 

 ‘Worship the Lord your God,

  and serve only the Lord.’”

  9 Then the Accuser took Jesus to Jerusalem, and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, “Since you’re the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, 10 for it is written, 

 ‘God will command the angels concerning you,

  to protect you,’

11 and 

 ‘On their hands they will bear you up,

  so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’”

12 Jesus answered the Accuser, “It is said, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’” 13 Having finished every test, the Accuser departed from Jesus until an opportune time.

————————

Please pray with me this morning, church:

Holy God,

So much weighs on us these days.

We carry around so much with us and it is heavy.

We come to you, seeking relief this morning.

Help us to unburden.

Lighten our loads so we can help others with theirs.

Amen.

————————

When I was in high school, about 16 or 17, I had the opportunity to spend 2 weeks out of my summer backpacking in the foothills of the Rockies in New Mexico, at Philmont Scout Ranch. It’s a pilgrimage, of sorts, for most Boy Scouts, at least it was then, so I was very grateful to get to go. You spend almost the full 2 weeks out on the trail, averaging 5-6 miles a day…certainly not for the faint of heart, and I’m not exactly sure these knees could handle it anymore…sleeping in tents, under the stars, showers few and far between, meals cooked on fires or camp stoves, mostly canned meats and MREs (meals ready to eat)…

I told you, not for the faint of heart.

You get your first stomach grumble about day 2.5 or 3. I’m not sure I’ve ever had such an overwhelming urge for a Snickers as I did on that trail.

I didn’t exactly know what I was hungry for, I just knew that I was hungry.

While you’re on the trail, there’s also this kind of overwhelming sense of just wanting relief. All of you are hiking around with 40lbs. or so on your back, and after a certain amount of time, you just want to set it down. Take a break. Get a little bit of relief.

You figure out pretty quickly that the easiest way to get relief is actually not to take your backpack all the way off. See, then you have unstrap it, take it off, set it down…but then when you get ready to go again, you have to sling it back up on your back, hoist it up on your shoulders, strap it down, and cinch it up again. No, the quickest and easiest way to get relief is to find a tall rock and rest your backpack on it and let your butt hang down. Then you don’t have to readjust any of your straps, but your shoulders and back get instant and substantial relief. #ProTip

After his baptism, Jesus is led into the wilderness by the Spirit and is tempted for 40 days while he fasts. 40 days is a long time to do anything, certainly to go without food, so you can imagine, at this point, that Jesus just wants some relief, just a bit of easing of the harshness. Jesus is ripe for temptation after these 40 days.

Do you ever notice that? Do you ever notice within yourself how it’s when things seem to be going their worst for you that it feels like the obstacles and the stumbling blocks and the temptations crop up the most? It’s the most inopportune time… It’s like when things are already going poorly and you’re at the end of your rope, that it feels like someone is pulling that rope the most forcefully, trying to yank it out of your hand…like you’ve already got such a large pile of stuff and it’s just then that the universe seems to be conspiring against you to add more and more stuff to that pile. 

When you’re already feeling heavy, it feels like the addition of just. one. more. thing. is going to break you. You just want some relief.

The temptation is to give into that struggle. To throw up your hands and stop trying so damn hard to fight because it doesn’t seem like it’s making that big of a difference anyway.

It’s when we feel like we’re at our weakest that the temptation seems strongest to give in to easy ways out, to lean into hoisting blame onto others, or to fall back onto our basest fears and judgments.

Whatever language you want to use…devil, tempter…I think this is what the Accuser was after with Jesus in the wilderness. Offering Jesus an easy way out…seeding doubt and feeding on and preying on that doubt that maybe Jesus isn’t who people say he is. “Maybe you’re not God’s beloved, Jesus… Where is your God to help you?”

Certainly Jesus is wanting just a little bit of relief.

Those are the doubts and the fears that prey on us, too. “Maybe you’re not who you say you are. Maybe you’re not all the good things others say about you. Maybe you’re not all that exceptional.” Or even more insidious, “Maybe you’re not who God says you are…”

These are the fears and temptations we wrestle with as a congregation, as well, make no mistake. You look around and you see fewer people than you remember, and those fears and doubt start to creep in, and the temptation is to give into those fears and doubts. “Are they ever coming back? Where is everyone? What are we doing launching a Capital Campaign at a time like this?”

And the thing is, church, it’s precisely for a time like this that the church exists. It’s precisely when things are most dismal, precisely when hope seems lost, precisely when doubts and fears arise, that the church is at it’s best. Because it is our call to shoulder those burdens for one another. Not to gloss things over and bury our head in the sand and pretend as if all these realities aren’t present…but to to be reminded and to remind one another that the whole reason we’re here is because of the promise of the resurrection—God brings life from things that die. God’s desire, dear people, is life and life abundant. And as long as we’re leaning into the call that God has placed on this congregation, as long as we’re aligning our mission and ministry with the work God has called us to…I trust that we’ll be ok, I have faith that God keeps God’s promises.

This is precisely what Building on Hope is reminding us. I can’t wait to share with you all the incredible work that you’re making possible and all the incredible ministry that will happen because of your faithfulness. Please make plans to be here on our Commitment Sunday, March 20, when we’ll also celebrate the Grand Re-Opening of our Community Center…I promise you, you’re not going to want to miss it.

This season of Lent we’re exploring the theme Unburden. We’re reflecting on the heaviness of our world and the weightiness of all the extra things that we carry around with us. We’re exploring how it feels like in recent years we’ve grown further and further apart from one another—ideologically, socially, spiritually—and we’re inviting you to live into an expansive idea of Lent this year. One that invites you to set down some of the heavy things you’re carrying around. An expansive Lent that creates more space, fills you up, draws you closer to God and closer to your neighbor. And expansive Lent that reminds this congregation that God is a God of life and God keeps God’s promises. An expansive idea Lent that reminds that you are exactly who God says that you are…dear beloved child.

We’ll talk about unburdening ourselves from unrealistic expectations, from our propensity to shovel blame onto others, and from our fears that wrap us up and consume us. 

My prayer is that rather than a trudge that seems to get heavier with each step, that you would find yourself lighter as you journey through Lent this year. We’ve got a lot, friends, that we’ve built up over the past couple of years. This Lenten season, you’ll be invited to set it down. Here. At the foot of the cross. Where mercy and compassion flow forth. Where grace is poured out. Where love doesn’t give death the last word, but instead cultivates and nurtures life. Life and love that is birthed out of a wounded side.

Throughout his tempting ordeal, Jesus’ response to these offers from the Accuser was to return to that which formed him—his Bible. Instead of shouting down the devil or trying to out-argue the tempter with eloquent well-outlined rhetorical arguments, Jesus quotes scripture.

Seeking relief, Jesus returned to that which formed him.

Just a couple of days ago, on Ash Wednesday, you heard that you are dust, o mortal one. Beautiful, gleaming, magnificent stardust. And to dust you will return.

You were formed from dust.

God breathed life into your dusty self.

Unburden yourself this Lent, dear church.

Return to that which formed you.

Return to God.

Luke 9:28-43a

28 Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. 29 And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. 30 Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to Jesus. 31 They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. 32 Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw the glory of Jesus and the two men who stood with him.

33 Just as the men were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah”—not knowing what he said.

34 While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. 35 Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” 36 When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.

  37 On the next day, when they had come down from the mountain, a great crowd met Jesus.

38 Just then a man from the crowd shouted, “Teacher, I beg you to look at my son; he is my only child. 39 Suddenly a spirit seizes him, and all at once he shrieks. It convulses him until he foams at the mouth; it mauls him and will scarcely leave him. 40 I begged your disciples to cast it out, but they could not.” 41 Jesus answered, “You faithless and perverse generation, how much longer must I be with you and bear with you? Bring your son here.” 42 While he was coming, the demon dashed him to the ground in convulsions. But Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit, healed the boy, and gave him back to his father. 43a And all were astounded at the greatness of God.

————————

Please pray with me this morning, church:

God of glory,

Your brilliance illumines our lives

and sometimes we struggle to be

the people you have called us to be.

As we make our ways through

mountains and valleys, walk with us.

Transfigure and transform our hearts again this morning,

Help us to reflect your light in our lives.

Help us reflect your love in our world

Amen.

————————

I had my first taste in the Summer of 2000. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced. I knew I had to have more. I was hooked.

I could have had it again in the same way 3 years later, in the Summer of 2003, but opted to try it in a little different form. This way was even better! So I would do it again and again and again, 3 years in between each time. 2006…2009…I had to miss 2012, but I was able to pick it up again in 2015 and 2018…

It’s not hyperbole to say that the ELCA Youth Gathering is a fundamental cornerstone of my faith story. I was blessed to attend in 2000 as a participant, and while I was eligible to go as a participant again in 2003, I opted to try serving in a volunteer capacity that year, and in each subsequent Gathering year, as a Hotel Life or Community Life volunteer, and then later as an adult chaperone. My experiences of the ELCA Youth Gathering have fundamentally shaped my view and my experience of God, that it will be one of my singular missions as Pastor for as long as I serve, to do everything I can to help our young people attend the Gathering as they are able.

We would have been scheduled to go again in 2021, which got postponed to this year, 2022. And through a confluence of really unfortunate events, some of which were outside of the organization’s control, the Gathering team made the difficult decision to cancel the Youth Gathering for this cycle. But not to fear, because we’ll pick it back up again in 2024.

And I absolutely plan to be there. With our high schoolers.

When we get a taste of, when we glimpse, an experience of the mountaintop, our very natural reaction is to want to have that same experience again and to share it with others.

(*again*) When we have a mountaintop experience…our very natural reaction is to want to have that experience again and to share that experience with others.

The problem is…rarely are two mountaintop experiences the same, and rarely is the same event experienced the same way by two different people. And…if all we do is chase mountaintop experiences…where does that leave us in the inevitable in-between times and the valleys of our lives?

Peter’s reaction is so understandable and so typical of us… “Rabbi…permit us to build 3 dwellings here…one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” Peter, James, and John are literally standing in the embodied presence of God, they are literally looking God in the face…of course Peter wants to preserve and memorialize this moment. This moment is so beautiful, so perfect, so unimaginable…there’s no way this moment can simply be relegated to only a memory…”Teacher, we want to preserve this experience, bottle it up, take it with us.”

The heartbreaking thing about mountaintop experiences is that they seem to happen so rarely and yet they make us feel so good. How cruel is it then, that those experiences are so fleeting?

What I appreciate about the Gospel accounts of the Transfiguration is that none of the authors let us dwell very long on top of this mountain. Perhaps more than the others, the author of Luke moves right on from the Transfiguration to coming down off of the mountain onto the healing of this young boy possessed by a demon. The call and the work…ministry…waits for no one. We have to get down off of this mountain because the mission continues, there is healing to be realized, work to be done, sight to be restored, and liberation to be proclaimed. Ministry must continue.

It’s one of the things you’ll hear from our own Danny Sigmon in just a few moments. As we claw our way through and out of this pandemic, God-willing, and we’re careful not to put things back in exactly the same way as they were before, the truth is, as we look to restart and reimagine ministries here at New Hope, we need your help to do it. It’s why for our Annual Stewardship Campaign we called it Reigniting Hope, and it’s why, along with a pledge card for your annual offering commitments, we also included a pledge card for how you’ll be involved with ministry at New Hope this year. The intention is to take time in discernment, to think on and pray about the gifts and abilities and time and resources God has blessed you with, and then to commit to offering those in tangible way to serving others and serving each other. Your gifts are needed here, church, to help ministry happen. We simply cannot do it without you. Ministry must and does continue, as it always has.

But don’t discount the sustaining power of mountaintop experiences.

As Peter rightly notes, “Teacher, it is good for us to be here.” Yes, Peter, it’s very good to be there, in the presence of Christ. And not just in the presence of Jesus, your Rabbi that you’ve been following around for a year or two at this point, but in the presence of Christ whose likeness is reflecting brilliantly the glory and majesty of God. A brilliant likeness, by the way, that is reflected in every single living thing that God has ever created. As St. Paul will remind us in 2 Corinthians, “All of us…are being transformed into that very same image from one degree of glory to another.” Every single beloved child reflects the very same radiance and brilliance that shone forth from Christ’s face. You…me…your neighbor…the oppressed, the marginalized, our LGBTQIA2+ siblings, especially our trans* siblings this week, Ukrainians, Russians, refugees, immigrants, indigenous people…there is not one single person on earth that isn’t made in God’s very own image and that doesn’t reflect God’s magnificent glory.

What Peter witnessed on top of that mountain is the same so many of us remember about our mountaintop experiences, the same so many of us hope to witness in the mountaintop experiences to come—God’s glory come to earth…the brilliant and moving image of God’s very self standing right in front of us.

That’s what it is for you about mountaintop experiences, right? They’re memorable and you long for them because if even for just a fleeting moment you have seen God. The same light that was called into being when the foundations of the world were being laid, the same brilliance that was called “very good,” is staring you in the face and it’s the most wonderful thing you’ve ever laid eyes on.

It’s why we chase them, these mountaintop experiences. It’s why we want more of them. It’s why we long for them. It’s why it pains us to wrestle with the reality that the entirety of our lives isn’t lived on top of that mountain. Because it is good to be there. It is good to behold the glory and power of God.

So how do we reconcile our very real and very good experiences on top of the mountain with the truth and reality of our lives that there are valleys, that all of life isn’t lived on the mountaintop?

What if we reframed our experiences of beholding the glory and majesty of God? What if instead of only on the mountaintops, we strove to see the image and likeness of God in every single person we encounter?

The good news, church, is that Jesus doesn’t stay on top of that mountain. Jesus descends with Peter and James and John and they get right back to the ministry to which they are called. But they are not the same as they were before. It is the transfigured Christ who goes with them. The glory of God and their experience of God’s majesty journey with them.

And so it is for us.

The transfigured, brilliant, shining-with-the-glory-and-majesty-of-God Jesus journeys with us. Up the mountain, down the mountain, on the plain, in the rough places, through the smooth patches, and especially into our valleys.

Whether your heart is in Ukraine today. Or with relatives in Russia. Or with a servicemember stationed in Eastern Europe… Whether your heart is at MD Anderson today. Or Houston Methodist. Or Memorial Hermann. Or wrestling with decisions about hospice… Whether your heart is breaking for your beloved friends and family who are trans*—who, again, unequivocally, are bearers of God’s divine image and who brilliantly radiate the transfigured glory of God. Or with friends and family who are struggling to get the resources they need. Or behind on their rent. Or struggling with the rising cost of food. Or wrestling with what your children or grandchildren are hearing in school—from bullies, from friends, from caretakers…

Wherever you are today…Christ is walking with you.

As we prepare to enter into our Lenten pilgrimage…as we continue in our Capital Campaign Building on Hope…as we discern the ministry to which God is calling us as New Hope Lutheran…this is where I’m drawing immense comfort. It’s where I implore you to seek comfort and refuge.

God has not abandoned God’s people. God does not abandon God’s people.

Mountains…valleys…and every place in between…

Yes, this journey down the mountain will ultimately take Jesus to Jerusalem, to Golgotha, and to the cross…but the journey does not end there. Because it will ultimately take Jesus to the tomb and through death to the glorious and brilliant joy of Easter. This journey does not end in a valley…but rather in resurrection. And in transformation.

And as we travel with Jesus, remember that we, too, are being changed as we journey…being transformed into the very same image of Christ, from one degree of glory to another, through the Spirit of God.

So we journey with faith.

We journey with hope.

We journey with Christ.

Luke 6:27-38

[Jesus said:] 27 “But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you,

28 bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. 29 If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. 30 Give to everyone who asks of you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again.

  31 “Do to others as you would have them do to you? 32 If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. 33 If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. 34 If you lend to those from whom you hope to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, in order to receive as much again. 35 But love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, who is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. 36 Be merciful, just as God is merciful.

  37 “Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven; 38 give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap; for the measure you give will be the measure you get back.”

————————

Please pray with me this morning, church:

God of new and amazing things,

Sometimes we have difficulty seeing

The new thing you are calling us to.

Sometimes our inability to see

Comes from a lack of holy imagination.

Inspire us this morning.

Give us new eyes and new ears.

Give us a new spirit to dream a new thing with you.

Amen.

————————

Over at the Michaelis household, we’re not exactly garden people. We aspire to be, and we’re working on some plans to be, but look, I’ve talked before about my thumb and how it’s less green and more brown or black. We needed some space in our backyard along the fence and we recently had some trees removed and now we’ve got this wonderfully open space that gets a good bit of sun, perfect for some raised beds. And actually, Ollie and I put together a couple of raised beds yesterday. Like I said, we’ve got some plans in the works, so check back with me later to see how it’s all going.

The journey from seed to seedling to full blown plant is a long one. And if you’re like me, and extremely confident that at some point along the way you’re going to miss a step and really mess things up, it’s a journey fraught with a decent amount of anxiety and second-guessing, as well.

But when you stop to think about it, and you’re holding these seeds in your hand, and you look down at these little kernels of potential…I find it really difficult to conceivably imagine that this tiny, rigid casing could possibly become a cucumber, or a tomato, or a jalapeño, or a blueberry. The process seems so far outside my ability to imagine.

And yet…that’s precisely what happens. With a little good soil and some water and a healthy amount of sunlight, those little kernels germinate and sprout and grow and become something beautiful and wonderful, and in some cases, quite tasty. The process of growing something from seed to plant is to observe transformation in real time.

The whole idea behind transformation is that it’s something completely different. What it was before is not what it becomes, and in fact, is nothing like what it was before, it is wholly and fully and completely different.

When St. Paul is talking about the resurrection in our lesson from First Corinthians, he’s getting at this idea of transformation. “What about the resurrection of the dead? What does that look like? What kind of bodies will the resurrected have?” “Fools!” Paul says…“What you sow doesn’t come to life unless it dies…what is sown is perishable, what it raised is imperishable.” Paul is saying, “You’re asking about resurrection and bodies, and you’re missing the point entirely.” You’re asking the wrong question. The resurrection isn’t about what kind of bodies we’ll have. You’re wanting to know if you’ll have that limp in the resurrection. “Will I have that nagging arthritis? Will my knee still pop in that funny way when I stand up after the resurrection?” Or even more to the point…“Will I have cancer in the resurrection? Will I still have cataracts? Will my blindness, or my lameness, or my mental illness…will I still bear these sufferings in the resurrection?”

“Dear sweet child of God…that’s…the wrong question…” Paul replies.

Resurrection is transformation. What comes after is not anything like what came before. The resurrection isn’t about your body…the resurrection is something experienced apart from and outside of your physical body. It is wholly and fully and completely different.

Part of the difficulty with things like transformation is that we are, in many ways, constrained by what we see and what we know. We struggle to imagine something completely different because what was before might be all we’ve known. It’s difficult to imagine something wholly and fully and completely different that may not look like anything we’ve ever seen before.

But what if we allowed ourselves to dream? What if we challenged ourselves to imagine something outside of and beyond anything we’ve currently experienced? If you weren’t constrained by your experiences and conceptions of “the way things have looked” or “the way things have been done,” what new and amazing possibilities could you dream up?

This is the gift and challenge of transformation. Transformation exists beyond what we currently know and experience.

So in the gospel of Luke, as Jesus is continuing this morning with what we call the Sermon on the Plain, it’s like we talked about last week, the kingdom of God, the reign and dominion of God that Jesus is describing sets itself overagainst worldly kingdoms and empires, but it looks nothing like those worldly dominions either. The reign of God exists outside of the constraints and conceptions of the way empires are supposed to operate. Last week we heard that God’s vision of the world is one of leveling, where the powerful and the haves are brought low and the lowly, despised, outcast, and downtrodden are lifted up. This week, Jesus uses all these examples of how the world that we know operates, and flips them all on their head. “Love your enemies, and do good to those who hate you. Bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. If someone strikes you on the cheek, offer your other. If anyone takes away your coat, give them your shirt, too. Give to everyone who asks of you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them back.”

Verse 31 is one of the most well known verses in all of Scripture. And interestingly, every single major world religion has some variation of this in their holy texts. On the Fort Bend Interfaith Council, of which New Hope is a member, we even have a subgroup of interfaith partners called the “Golden Rule Gang” and this group has taken under their specific charge seeking out ways to advocate for and be agents of tangible change in our community. Things like housing and food insecurity, rental and mortgage assistance, eviction cases, gun violence in schools… Advocacy…justice…protest…engaging elected officials… The Golden Rule Gang seeks out ways that our faith communities can add our voices to the public discourse to make real and lasting change for the betterment and health of our community.

But what’s interesting is that Jesus seems to take this idea even further. Some biblical scholars argue that verse 31 really belongs with the section below it, verses 32-34, and is really better posed as a rhetorical question. Hear it this way, the way I read it earlier: “Do to others as you would have them do to you? If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. If you lend to those from whom you hope to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to receive as much again.”

“But love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return.”

Do more, Jesus is saying. St. Paul will echo this in Philippians: “Treat others as better than yourselves.”

Go beyond just what you would want for yourself. Be part of transformational change. Break the cycle of this for that, giving only to receive back as much. Live beyond the ways of being that are operative in the world. Be transformed and live transformed lives.

It’s not a way of living in the world that is this way or that way…it’s a way of discipleship that is completely separate from the way the world works. It’s a way of life that is completely different altogether.

“How is it a credit to you if you only like those who like you? If you only are good to someone because they were first good to you? If you only give to someone hoping that they’ll give it back to you someday?”

“Love your enemies. Do good. And give away, expecting nothing in return.”

It is a completely counter-cultural, counter-intuitive way of living. It’s unlike anything we could imagine or have experienced in our lives up to this point. It’s a pattern of life that exists outside of our ability to understand. It’s transformational.

When we dare to imagine or dream beyond what we’ve experienced, beyond our conceptions of the way things have always been or the way we’ve always done things, then we’re starting to dream about transformational ministry.

These are the questions put before us in our Capital Campaign, Building on Hope. What new thing is God calling New Hope to in this time? How can New Hope serve Missouri City, Stafford, Sugar Land, and Fort Bend County in a new way?

ESL classes? They’ve got full ones going on right now over at Armstrong. Do they need more space to hold classes?

Affordable after-school care? There’s a whole elementary school over there with kids whose parents are working two and three jobs to feed their babies and families.

Job training and flexible work space? There’s a whole new generation of entrepreneurs and business owners that have only known remote work untethered to an office, but it can be helpful to have a spot to crank out a few emails and gather together with other young professionals to bounce ideas off of.

Sports leagues. Meeting space. Cooking classes.

A Community Center.

We are truly only limited by our imagination.

This is how we are Building on Hope.

This is what you’re being invited into, church.

This is the transformational mission and ministry to which God is calling New Hope.

And this is the transformational work you’re being invited into by joining with us in Building on Hope.

Say yes to this invitation.

The work is long.

Tending a seed from kernel of incredible potential to germination to seedling to full blown plant requires patience, consistent watering, sunlight, and a healthy dose of love.

But oh, when it blossoms… Oh, when it blooms…

The transformation is so much more than our wildest imaginations.

Luke 6:17-26

17 Jesus came down with the twelve and stood on a level place, with a great crowd of his disciples and a great multitude of people from all Judea, Jerusalem, and the coast of Tyre and Sidon. 18 They had come to hear him and to be healed of their diseases; and those who were troubled with unclean spirits were cured. 19 And all in the crowd were trying to touch him, for power came out from him and healed all of them.

  20 Then Jesus looked up at his disciples and said: 

 “Blessed are you who are poor,

  for yours is the dominion of God.

 21 “Blessed are you who are hungry now,

  for you will be filled.

 “Blessed are you who weep now,

  for you will laugh.

  22 “Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son-of-Man. 23 Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets.

 24 “But woe to you who are rich,

  for you have received your consolation.

 25 “Woe to you who are full now,

  for you will be hungry.

 “Woe to you who are laughing now,

  for you will mourn and weep.

  26 “Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.”

———————-

Please pray with me this morning, church:

Generous God,

We feel very blessed today, and we are.

Which might mean we find ourselves

Listed among your woes more often than not.

Remind us, again, of your incredible

Generosity toward us.

Help us to live generous lives

In response to your gift.

Amen.

———————-

When I was applying to seminary, I was invited to participate in a scholarship process that eventually awarded me quite a bit of aid for my entire 4 years of seminary. It would end up being a significant amount of debt that I didn’t have to take on. When it came to being assigned our ministry learning parishes during our second year, I got my first choice, exactly the site I wanted to learn at. Same with my Chaplaincy Internship, exactly where I wanted to serve. Same with my Internship, my first choice that was exactly the setting I wanted to serve in.

Do you ever get this foreboding sense in your life that things have just been going too well for too long, and you get nervous about the next choice you have to make because you just know that at some point the other shoe’s going to drop and your luck is going to run out…?

As we approached the end of my 4 years of seminary and got ready to release my paperwork out into the ELCA world, as we approached the time when the Bishops would get together and decide which seminary Candidates were going to be assigned to which geographical areas…I just knew that it was going to be that time that other shoe was going to drop. Like, of course it would happen during Assignment, this time after my 4 years of study that would literally decide where my family and I would move…a group of Bishops sitting in a room, in many ways deciding my family’s fate, at least in terms of where we would live. I’ve never felt so unlucky as I did during those couple of weeks.

It did end up working out. Quite well, I think. I ended up here, with all of you lovely people, and it has been extraordinarily good for my family. So, thank you. But have you ever felt that? Like at some point, that the blessings are going to run dry and you’ll get caught up in this cycle of woes that you’ll have to physically claw your way out of.

When things are going well for me, it seems as if all I can focus on is some indeterminate time in the future when they will stop. During my seasons of struggle, it seems as if I can only see how great everything is for everyone else around me, how much everyone else isn’t struggling.

So is it true that we are either blessed or not? Is it as cut-and-dry as it seems that the author of Luke is suggesting, either “blessed are you” or “woe to you”?

I don’t think so. I think there’s a lot of nuance.

But our lived experiences certainly would have us feel as if things are either “this” or “that.”

This section from the Gospel of Luke mirrors a similar section from the Gospel of Matthew. It’s a collection of sayings from Jesus, likely not all said at the same time except it makes for good storytelling, so the authors pulled all these stories and sayings together and structured them as if Jesus is preaching, and so we call it a sermon. For the author of Matthew this occurs on the side of a mountain, so taken all together we call it the Sermon on the Mount. The author of Luke writes that just before this Jesus goes up on a mountain to pray and choose twelve apostles from among the many disciples, and then Jesus comes down from the mountain and stands “on a level place”…and so this is known as the Sermon on the Plain.

This level place is important in the Gospel of Luke. Throughout the gospel, Jesus is constantly speaking to this great leveling—from Mary’s Magnificat where the lowly are lifted up and the powerful are brought low, John the baptizer being cast in the same vein as the prophet Isaiah “…crying out in the wilderness, ‘Prepare the way of the Lord and make the Lord’s paths direct. Every valley filled and every mountain brought low, the crooked places aligned and the rough places made smooth,’” to Jesus’ first words in the synagogue also from the prophet Isaiah “the spirit of the Lord has sent me to proclaim good news to the poor and release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind and the year of the Lord’s favor, the year of Jubilee,” to Luke’s version of the Beatitudes this morning where the kingdom of God belongs to the poor, the hungry are filled, the mournful laugh, and the reviled are given a great reward in heaven…but woe to the rich and the full and the carefree and the well-liked.

For Jesus, in the Gospel of Luke, the kingdom of God—God’s promised future and the fullness of God’s vision for the world—stands diametrically opposed to the kingdoms of the world, specifically overagainst the Roman Empire, but also stands overagainst our empires in our time. The kingdom of God is at odds with worldly powers. Worldly empires exalt the rich and famous and lift up the haves…the kingdom of God lifts up the lowly and the outcast, the hungry, the material poor, the housing and food insecure, the downtrodden, and the destitute. The kingdom of God is good news for the have-nots.

And if, like me, you find yourself in positions of relative comfort, just kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop amidst what is, quite truthfully, a fairly charmed life…it sounds like not-so-good news…

But, as I said earlier, what if the reign of God isn’t as cut-and-dry, this-or-that as we experience so much in our world? While the kingdom of God stands diametrically opposed to the kingdoms of this world, what if life within this promised future isn’t such a dichotomy?

In First Corinthians, St. Paul lays out his rhetorical argument that the resurrection is the key to everything. It’s a lot to try and work through and Paul doesn’t make it easy with the way he writes, but essentially, Paul is saying that for the Christian, resurrection is everything. “If there is no resurrection then Christ wasn’t raised, and if Christ wasn’t raised then our preaching is in vain and your faith is in vain.” If there is no resurrection of Christ or resurrection of the dead, then faith is nothing. The whole point is the resurrection.

God’s desire for God’s creation is resurrection, which is to say that God’s desire for the world is transformation, a journey and a through-line from death to life. God desires life for you and God desires life for your neighbors, and when your neighbor is suffering or is living a less than full life or a life that is anything less than abundant and thriving, then God’s desire for you is that you do what you can with what you have to help your neighbor live the abundant and thriving life that God intends for them. When each of us looks not to our interests, but to the interests of others, as St. Paul will say in Philippians, then everyone is looking out for everyone else, and collectively, we are doing what we can to ensure that everyone is living a full and abundant and thriving life that God intends.

This isn’t some strange ideology of a fringe remote commune, this is God’s vision for the world as laid out in the scriptures. This is exactly how the first Christ-believing communities lived—“they held all things together in common and they distributed to all as any had need.” Common good…sharing of resources…true equality…a great leveling…a truly level playing field…

And church, this is the kind of community we are called to be. This is what is means to live together in community, to live for the sake of one another. This is the kind of community that we are created for.

It’s the kind of community we’re seeking to nurture through our Building on Hope Capital Campaign. Through this Campaign, we’re seeking to make significant improvements to our campus and facilities in order to best serve our neighborhood and community. Our hope is for New Hope to truly be a center for our community. We’re imagining basketball leagues, youth groups, Scout troops, civic and community organizations…we’re reaching out to folks in our community who are looking for flexible work space; with the adoption and prevalence of remote work, we’re looking at renting out some of our unused space as work space for a new generation of entrepreneur and business owner…with some upgrades our kitchen could be used for cooking classes for young people and low-income families, food preparation for food trucks, and so much more.

Church, our vision, not just for our Community Center, but for our campus, is that New Hope re-commit ourselves…re-establish ourselves…re-root ourselves…here. To say New Hope is here…to stay…we’re not going anywhere… New Hope is in this community…for good.

Over the next few weeks, you’re going to hear a lot of talk about stewardship and generosity. That’s just the nature of a Capital Campaign. But more than that, I hope you keep your eyes and your ears open to the ways God is moving and active amidst all these conversations. Where do you notice God at work? What needs in our community do you see? Where can New Hope come alongside our neighbors to be a place of healing, a place of caring, and a place of love?

Ultimately the generosity we’re talking about is a generosity of yourself. Recognize where God and others have been generous to you, and work out what your response is to that generosity in your life.

We are created for generosity.

When we are all living generous lives, all are able to live the kind of abundant and thriving life that God intends.

When we respond to generosity with generosity, there’s no waiting for the other shoe to drop, because all are being truly blessed.

By one another.

By God.