Mark 6:14-29

14 King Herod heard of [the disciples’ preaching, teaching, and healing,] for Jesus’ name had become known. Some were saying, “John the baptizer has been raised from the dead; and for this reason these powers are at work in him.” 15 But others said, “It is Elijah.” And others said, “It is a prophet, like one of the prophets of old.” 16 But when Herod heard of it, he said, “John, the one whom I beheaded, has been raised.”
  17 For Herod himself had sent men who arrested John, bound him, and put him in prison on account of Herodias, Herod’s brother Philip’s wife, because Herod had married her. 18 For John had been telling Herod, “It is not lawful for you to marry your brother’s wife.” 19 And Herodias had a grudge against John, and wanted to kill him. But she could not, 20 for Herod feared John, knowing that John was a righteous and holy man, and Herod protected him. When Herod heard John, he was greatly perplexed; and yet Herod liked to listen to John. 21 But an opportunity came when Herod on his birthday gave a banquet for his courtiers and officers and for the leaders of Galilee. 22 When Herod’s daughter Herodias came in and danced, she pleased Herod and his guests; and the king said to the girl, “Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give it.” 23 And Herod solemnly swore to her, “Whatever you ask me, I will give you, even half of my kingdom.” 24 The girl went out and said to her mother, “What should I ask for?” Her mother replied, “The head of John the baptizer.”

25 Immediately Herodias rushed back to the king and requested, “I want you to give me at once the head of John the Baptist on a platter.” 26 The king was deeply grieved; yet out of regard for his oaths and for the guests, he did not want to refuse her. 27 Immediately the king sent a soldier of the guard with orders to bring John’s head. The soldier went and beheaded John in the prison, 28 brought John’s head on a platter, and gave it to the girl. Then the girl gave it to her mother. 29 When John’s disciples heard about it, they came and took his body, and laid it in a tomb.

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Please pray with me this morning, church:

Life-giving God,

Our stomachs ache. We hunger.

We fill ourselves with that which does not satisfy.

Fill us again this morning.

Make us to be that which we receive,

Your very self—the body of Christ—

Given for the life of the world.

Amen.

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Well that’s one way to throw a party, right?

I can’t recall a time I went to a soirée and the favors the hosts handed out was someone’s head on a platter. It’s a bit too…Game of Thrones for me.

But different from Westeros, where gratuitous violence is rampant, this story does have a function in the Gospel of Mark. More on that in a minute.

Today we’re beginning the 2nd half of our summer with a new worship and sermon series called Bread of Life. Catchy and original…I know. Beginning this Sunday, we’re entering a stretch where the Gospel readings focus a lot on eating and feeding and nourishing, and at the end of July and throughout August we’ll have 5 weeks in a row from the Gospel of John that all have Jesus saying “I am the bread of life.” So, yeah…super-original series title. And, just a fair warning to those of you who have gluten intolerances or suffer from celiac disease…you’re going to be hearing a lot about bread…but there’s nothing to suggest that Jesus wasn’t referring to himself as a rustic loaf made from tapioca flour…I mean, there’s nothing to suggest that he was, either…but, you know, just…use whatever imagery is helpful for you.

In this series, we’re going to be talking about nourishment. What is it that nourishes you? What truly fills you up and sustains you? What’s missing from your diet…spiritually, I mean? What gifts do you have that can then be used to fill up and sustain others? How can we combine and use our individual gifts more effectively for the sake of each other and the world? What does it look like and how much more filling and sustaining is it if we try and create a whole recipe from our individual gifts and ingredients, rather than withholding the ingredients to stand on their own?

This is some of what we’ll be talking about during this second half of the summer.

But today, we have a banquet. And this is not Jesus’ banquet. Obviously, the author of Mark tells us this was Herod’s party, but even if we didn’t have that, if we look at what happened at this party…this doesn’t sound like Jesus, right? This doesn’t fit with what we know and what we believe to be true about the kind of person Jesus is, the kind of party Jesus would host.

I invite you to go ahead and grab your Bible if you brought it, or open the Bible app on your phone, or even pull out one of those handy pew Bibles if you’re here in the Sanctuary with us. Go ahead and open them up to Mark chapter 6. We’re going to be rummaging around in these verses. Our Gospel reading begins in Mark chapter 6 verse 14.

New Testament…2nd half of the Bible…Matthew, Mark…2nd book……got it…? Great.

So this is a story that takes place out of time. In verse 16 we read, “When Herod heard about all the things Jesus and the disciples were doing…right, the teaching and preaching and healing and curing…all that stuff…Herod said, probably frightened, or paranoid, ‘John, the one I beheaded, has been raised.’” And then verses 17 and after are all a flashback of what happened when Herod threw a party and John lost his head. But it’s function here, in this place in the Gospel of Mark, is important. Just before this, you’ll recall, at the beginning of chapter 6, you can see in your Bibles there, was our Gospel reading from last week, when Jesus, the hometown hero, finds out that not everyone in Nazareth is thrilled with what he’s doing, and Jesus finds that it’s those who know you best that might be most reticent to hear what you have to say, especially when what you have to say is at odds with the very comfortable way of living that they’ve carved out for themselves. Hmm…that cuts a little deep, doesn’t it…? And then Jesus sends the disciples out to carry on the mission of healing and teaching and curing, and the disciples start healing and anointing and curing. And today, Herod hears about what Jesus and the disciples are doing and gets frightened. But then after our Gospel reading for today, something we’ll pick up a little bit next week is Mark’s version of Jesus’ feeding of the 5,000. You can see it there in Mark chapter 6 verses 30-44.

So this story we have this morning is really meant to draw a stark contrast. A contrast between Herod and Jesus, and contrast between the powers of the Empire and the kingdom, or the reign, of God.

Herod throws a party…the powers of the empire throw a party…and death is served up as the main course.

Jesus hosts a get-together…and people are fed…their bellies are filled and they are given assurances and promises that not only does God supply their material needs, but their spiritual hunger is satisfied, as well.

The ways of God are life, and life abundant. The ways of empire and the powers of this world are death…they take away life and take it violently.

What do we truly hunger for?

What does your stomach truly ache for?

Are those hunger pangs of the reign of God? Or are they actually something else?

We get told that we should hunger after all sorts of things…a promotion, a different job, more money, security, a bigger house, more friends… I heard it on the radio on the way in this morning, we here in the U.S. are caught in this unwinnable game, this neverending pursuit of one-upmanship. We’re rarely ever just satisfied. We’re always working feverishly after more. Even if “more” isn’t realistically within our reach. Even if us having “more” means someone else goes without. We’ll pursue more at the expense of others, even at the expense of our own well-being.

But what if the ways of the world are incompatible with the ways of God?

What if hungering after the reign of God puts you at odds with the kinds of hunger the world tells you to desire?

God’s vision—the reign of God—preferences those on the underside, those without, those deemed not as worthy, the vulnerable. “Those who want to save their life will lose it…those who lose their life for my sake and for the sake of the Gospel will save it.”

The good news is that this message persists. Herod cut off John’s head, but John’s voice echoed in the ministry of Jesus. The empire—the powers of this world—lynched Jesus, strung Jesus up on a tree…they could not silence Jesus’ voice.

You can try and kill the prophet…but the prophet’s voice, the good news of God’s liberation for the oppressed and the marginalized, you’ll never be able to silence that message.

How can you lose your life for the sake of the Gospel?

We’re connected to a lot of feeding ministries here at New Hope—feeding in lots of different senses of the word. Coming up next week is our turn to host Family Promise. While still operating under pandemic protocols, churches are asked to provide meals for the families in the program. Every. single. time. the signup goes out, the slots to prepare and bring food are filled within a few days. But more volunteers are always helpful…many hands make light work. Family Promise could certainly use your hands.

We have a handful of faithful volunteers who make time every week to serve at East Fort Bend Human Needs Ministry and the Food Pantry over there. But they could certainly use more. They could certainly use your time and energy.

The past couple of years have seen us nurture a relationship with Armstrong Elementary across the way. Helping to feed young people with the nourishing gifts of relationships through Reading Buddies, Mentors, and even ESL classes for their parents. We could use more…we could use your gifts.

Our sister congregation, El Buen Pastor, in El Salvador is spiritually and physically feeding the people in their incredibly impoverished communities every single week. And we’re walking alongside them as partners in ministry as they do. Your interest and input into this relationship is needed…we could use your help.

The thing about hunger is…that it’s not a one-and-done kind of thing. Hunger happens regularly. We need to eat. And we need to continue eating.

These ministries we partner with…one need gets filled, but then there’s more to come. All these wonderful ministries try to address some of the root causes of these needs, but that’s tough and long work. In the meantime, there are still needs to be met.

How can you find a way to get plugged in, either with one of these ministries or in another way? As we begin to emerge from the fog of a pandemic and start re-engaging with opportunities to serve, what ministries are speaking to your heart this morning? What opportunity do you find yourself hungering for?

Serving, loving others, meeting their needs…it doesn’t just fill them up. I’m certain you’ll find that your own hunger is filled, as well.

That nagging in your belly? That may just be a nudge from God, an invitation to try filling your own hunger by filling the needs of others.

The way of discipleship is a hard one.

It asks a lot of you. Just ask John the baptizer.

But it is in losing, in giving up, that you gain your life.

It is in filling up others, that you yourself are filled.

Mark 6:1-13

1 Jesus came to his hometown, and his disciples followed him. 2 On the sabbath Jesus began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astounded. They said, “Where did he get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him? What deeds of power are being done by his hands! 3 Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us?” And they were scandalized by him. 4 Then Jesus said to them, “Prophets are not without honor, except in their hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house.” 5 And Jesus could do no deed of power there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them. 6 And Jesus was amazed at their unbelief.
  Then Jesus went about among the villages teaching. 7 He called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits. 8 Jesus ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; 9 but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics. 10 Jesus said to them, “Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place. 11 If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them.” 12 So the disciples went out and proclaimed that all should repent. 13 They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.

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Please pray with me this morning, church:

Loving God,

We are only free because you have made us free.

Free to live for others.

Free to serve others.

Free to love others.

Remind us this morning, and help us recognize

That we are interdependent upon one another.

Amen.

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This is not how you imagined your Senior year would go. Am I right?

And truthfully this is not how any of us imagined this past year would go, but even more so for y’all. And even before that…this has been an 18-month ordeal. It’s been a tough slog. No doubt.

I mean, Friday night lights, friends, parties, concerts, prom, graduation……this has been a very different year than what you imagined.

And I’m sorry for that. You deserve a little bit more “normal” in your lives. And, I think we’re all trying to get there.

And we will get there. Eventually. Hopefully soon.

In the meantime, we took what would typically be a late-May event, and pushed it back a couple of months. Tried to plan it when things could be somewhat normal and everyone could be here.

That’s really my hope for today, that this could be some small touchstone of “normal” for you in the midst of a very abnormal world.

I have a lot of words for our graduating Seniors today, but I hope there’s some good news and some challenge in here for all of us. Because the truth is, none of us imagined that this is how these past months would have gone. And certainly, none of us imagined that we’d still be here where we are now. And I imagine more than a few of us are frustrated by that. And I don’t have to imagine all that hard, some of you have told me as much, so I feel pretty confident in saying, more than a few of us are frustrated by where we are.

This week is the last Sunday in our worship series called Together. We’ve been in this series for the first half of the summer, this series that focuses on 2nd Corinthians. We’ve been talking about how we live together in the midst of such challenging times. We’ve been trying to wrestle with how to live well together amidst so many differing viewpoints. What does it mean for us to make decisions and live our lives in service of and in the interest of others, maybe instead of or in spite of my own preferences and desires and what I want.

That’s a difficult question, right? What if what’s best for someone else requires me to give up something of myself or my own desires or preferences…what do I do with that?

How seriously are we to take Jesus’ call to discipleship?

In short, it’s interesting to me that on a weekend and a day when so many are focused on independence, that what we’re talking about is interdependence.

The ways in which we are interdependent on one another. The ways in which our lives are intricately bound up together. How what I want may not be what’s best for you, and so what do I do with that, do I live my life differently so that it serves to benefit my neighbor?

These are the difficult questions of togetherness. These are the questions of interdependence.

Seniors, you’re about to discover a whole new world of independence. Some of you will physically move away from the home, from the people you’ve known your entire life…for 18 years. What will you do with all this freedom? Some of you are going to hang around, but you’ll be no less enjoying some newfound independence. What will you do with it?

Sugar Land/Missouri City/Houston/this place…will be different when you come back. I mean, just ask Jesus. For one thing, places change. But so do people. So do you. You’ll be different people when you come back. And that’s a good thing.

But it won’t always be appreciated. Just ask Jesus.

Jesus comes back to Nazareth, maybe Capernaum…the hometown boy, the hero, of sorts…and to his friends and relatives and those that knew him, he wasn’t what they expected…he was different.

Dear friends, change is inevitable.

Change is something that this group of Seniors is intimately familiar with.

I have a bit of a soft spot for this particular group. (Don’t worry…all of our young people are my favorites…**but y’all are my favorite favorites**…) There’s a particular spot in my heart for this group of 4 because they were my first Confirmation class at New Hope. I came in right at the beginning of their 8th-grade year. I was their 4th Confirmation teacher in 2 years. Y’all had seen a lot of change happen. And Miranda joined us the next year, and that next year, we went to the ELCA Youth Gathering just down the road in Houston, and 2 years after that everything changed…and now here we are. Change is kind of built-in to your systems.

You’ve done really well through all this change, y’all.

I am so, so proud of you. I can’t wait to see what passions you discover and the ways you change and shape the world.

Just know that you won’t do it on your own.

This life…in its entirety…all of it…is a collaborative effort. It’s not a me or I thing…it’s an us and we thing. Our lives are “caught up in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied together in a single garment of destiny” as the Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr. said. “Whatever affects one…affects all.”

Don’t forget that. You don’t do this alone.

We do this…together…

We need help along the way, right? When Jesus sends the disciples at the end of our gospel reading today, he says don’t take anything with you. Leave your bag, your food, money…leave it all.

Travel lightly. Don’t get weighed down with all your stuff. Because if you’re weighed down with all your own stuff, how do you have space to help carry someone else’s, or hold their story, or their hurt?

When we are burdened with the baggage of everything we have carried before, we aren’t free to hold the gifts of the present.

Rely on the hospitality and generosity of others. If they welcome you, great; stay there until you move on. If they don’t, turn around and leave, go somewhere else.

There’s no greater find in a college student’s life than free food.

It’s true. You and your friends will seek out who’s throwing what sort of event or get-together, you’ll figure out who’s serving hot dogs or hamburgers or whatever, which student organization is sponsoring which thing…it’s like a competition. How many days a week can I find something free to eat, versus paying for my own lunch or dinner.

You rely on the hospitality of others. Interdependence.

And when you come home at whatever breaks in the semester, you’ll bring all your laundry with you. Because the only thing better than free food is free laundry.

Rely on the hospitality of others. Interdependence.

The thing that I’ve been trying to communicate, certainly today, but over these past 6 weeks with this series from 2nd Corinthians is that we absolutely are dependent upon one another. As much as we try and tell ourselves and try and live otherwise.

We hear that, and we nod our heads, and we think we agree…but dang, we sure don’t live like it.

Because if we did, I have to think that we’d be less focused on me and what I want, and more in-tune with the needs and cares and concerns and safety of our neighbors, and the outcast, and the marginalized, and the other, and the vulnerable. Because God’s power is made perfect—made complete—in weakness. In weakness, we are made strong. God is strong in weakness.

We won’t always get it right. Even Mark says that Jesus couldn’t do any deeds of power in Nazareth among the hometown crowd. Except… Except…well, he did lay his hands on a few people and healed them.

Even at our weakest…God still finds a way to work through that.

We’re very proud of you.

Don’t forget all the people who helped you along the way to get to where you are today. Don’t forget all the help you received, and don’t neglect to help others.

This is an interdependent thing. We need each other.

Call your parents. Regularly.

Tell them you love them. Regularly.

Go be awesome.

You already are.

Just be who you are.

Be who God has created you to be.

Mark 4:35-41

35 When evening had come, [Jesus said to the disciples,] “Let us go across to the other side.” 36 And leaving the crowd behind, they took Jesus with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. 37 A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. 38 But Jesus was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and the disciples woke him up and said to him, “Rabbi, Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” 39 Jesus woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. 40 Jesus said to the disciples, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?” 41 And the disciples were filled with great awe and said to one another, “Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?”

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Please pray with me this morning, church:

Sustaining God,

Storms rage around and within us.

It’s hard to find a place to hold on.

Draw near to us again this morning.

Remind us that you are in these storms with us.

Quiet the storms. Send us peace.

Amen.

—————

There’s a story that I’ve told very few people about the time when I heard what I think was God’s voice the clearest in my life. I’ll save the story for another time, but what I will say is that it was, like, almost the middle of the night, and I was by myself, and everything was perfectly quiet.

It was in that absolute stillness that I believe I came the closest so far in my life to hearing God most clearly. Which tracks with Elijah’s experience on Mt. Horeb, you’ll recall…when God is not in the wind or the earthquake or in the fire, but rather in the sound of sheer silence.

But it doesn’t track, in some other ways we say God is revealed…in the way we say that God is revealed in the midst of devastation and hurting, right? That if you want to see God, go to the places of suffering. Look for God in the faces of the outcast and the downtrodden and the tossed aside. And that’s also true, too, I find, right? I do find God in those places and in those people…but rarely are those places quiet places…holy, absolutely…but rarely quiet.

So which is it? Is God revealed in the midst of hurt and anger and suffering and devastation—rarely quiet places? Or is God felt clearly in the stillness and silence…once everything else has fallen away?

Yes…

Both, I think.

I think we truly experience God in the clamor of disaster and tragedy. And I think we also need to cultivate quiet spaces in our lives where we can truly listen for God. And I don’t think these 2 things are mutually exclusive. I think we need both. Sometimes I think we need to be able to find the one within the other.

If you’ve been keeping score at home, this past week marked 15 months since a pandemic brought our world to a grinding halt. And if the shutdown was jarringly abrupt, the restart has been anything but. Resuming life, we’re finding out, comes in fits, and starts. Different people are in different places with regards to just how comfortable they are with this idea of re-entry and getting back on with it. We didn’t really have a choice when things shut down. There are a lot of different feelings about just how quickly people are ready to move forward in the midst of this pandemic.

We’re not necessarily all on the same page about how and how quickly we go forward from here.

Different speeds. Different comfortabilities.

We need to be willing to give one another a lot of grace in this.

Patience…which is not our strong suit…is the order of the day. Certainly patience with each other.

It’s been a stormy 15 months.

“Rabbi…Teacher…don’t you even care that we are perishing…?!?”

How many times have you said that over the past more than a year?

When we’re the ones in the midst of those storms, and nothing seems to be working, and there seems to be nothing we can do about it, it can feel as if the one we say can do something about it doesn’t care. At best, is unaware. At worst, is apathetic.

But in Jesus’ defense, I mean, have you ever tried to sleep on a cushion in the cabin of a boat?

I mean, it’s not really that difficult. Especially if you’ve been out on the water all day. I’m thinking about a time last summer when we were out on the lake with my family, and Ollie and his cousins passed out in the cabin and the wind was hawking so the water was extremely choppy and we’re just bouncing up and down and up and down on the water, seemingly hitting every. single. wave., and the kids are in the cabin and catching like 2-feet of air each time, but they stayed dead asleep.

I guess if you’re worn out enough…

Funny enough, I can’t say the same thing about myself trying to fall asleep on a cruise ship in rough waters. Talk about sea-sick…

“Rabbi, don’t you even care that we’re perishing??”

“Well honestly, I might not have even known…but now that you mention it…”

And then Jesus does what we expect Jesus to do. Jesus rebukes the storm. Which even that is a little too kind of a construction. The Greek is much more emphatic. Jesus curses the storm. He tells the wind to go kick sand. “Peace! Be still!” your translation says. More accurately, Jesus says, “Be muzzled.” “Sit down. And shut up.” Jesus tells the storm.

It’s the language of exorcism. The same sort of forcefulness of language Jesus uses with demons and spirits in the Gospel of Mark.

What we’d expect Jesus to do.

Because of course, Jesus cares that the disciples are terrified. Of course, Jesus cares that they feel like they’re going to die. Of course, Jesus cares that we’re perishing.

Do we?

Do we care that there are some among our neighbors who are caught up in some pretty vicious storms of their own right now? Do we care that there are some among our neighbors who feel like they might not make it through the particular storm they’re battling? Do we care that, in some cases, we have the ability to help calm some of those storms that our neighbors and siblings are experiencing…or at least to help them navigate the waters a little better?

We’re all in the same boat.

You’ve heard this said, I’m sure, by more than a handful of well-meaning people, particularly in distressing or challenging situations. I think it’s meant to kind of drum up a sense of togetherness in the midst of life’s storms, to point out how, in some ways, we’re all going through some of the same challenges.

I think it’s well-meaning, and I think the intent to prompt a response of togetherness is a good one, but I’m just not sure it’s true.

I heard a good take on this well-meaning phrase recently, particularly in the context of a collective trauma or challenge, like a pandemic.

“We’re not all in the same boat,” it goes. “We’re all in the same storm, but we’re in very different boats.” Wow. True, I think. Some of us have yachts or 25-footers or even fishing boats. Others are trying to make it in a rescue life raft or a couple of pieces of cardboard and some duct tape.

We’re all in the same storm.

But we’re in very different boats.

And it has been a stormy 15 months.

As we’ve been working our way through 2nd Corinthians the past few weeks, and using St. Paul’s letter to talk about how togetherness and living and loving and serving for the sake of our neighbors really is our only way out of our collective struggles, our reading from this morning from chapter 6 feels a little bit like a form letter. It feels somewhat disconnected from the overarching theme.

But I think Paul is still speaking to this sense of togetherness here. ““We aren’t putting any obstacles in anyone’s way…As God’s servants, we have commended ourselves to you…We have spoken plainly to you; our heart is wide open to you.” All the hardships and troubles Paul and his companions endured—the beatings, imprisonments, hunger, sleepless nights—all they did, they endured for the sake of the Corinthian community. Living and serving in the interest of others…enduring difficulty and hardship for the sake of others…is a central Christian tenet. We are called to bear one another’s burdens, to shoulder on another’s loads, even when they’re heavy.

Together…really is our only way out of this.

There have been some intense storms over the past 15 months. Not just a global pandemic…but an ongoing struggle for racial justice and equity, deep political divisions, vehement disagreements among family members, medical struggles… It’s June and Pride month, and the fight for LGBTQIA2+ justice continues… These are some choppy seas.

We need one another.

We are given to rescue one another.

Literally, to save one another.

To hold one another through these storms.

It may feel as if these storms will never stop.

I don’t think that’s true. I think storms do end. But I also think storms persist. As soon as one is gone, another one starts churning. Think of hurricane season, right? Another one is likely on its way.

Which is why it’s important to cultivate and lean into those moments of stillness when they come.

Those are the sustaining moments.

Jesus does calm storms. Or rather, Jesus is with us in our boat, and weathers these storms with us.

It’s a hard thing to trust, but it’s true.

—–

Being without a musician is tough as we’re trying to regather, and as I said, we’re working on it. But there’s a hymn in our new hymnal, All Creation Sings, that has a Taize-like feel to it and comes from the Holden Prayer around the Cross resource. It’s called Peace, Be Still and it’s really quite simple, and I wonder if you’d sing quietly with me, with your masks on, please.

I’ll sing it through once, and you can join in if you feel comfortable, and we’ll just sing it through a few times.

It goes like this:

Peace, be still.

Peace, be still.

The storm rages.

Peace, be still.

Peace.

Be still.

Mark 3:20-35

[Jesus went home;] 20 and the crowd came together again, so that [Jesus and the disciples] could not even eat. 21 When Jesus’ family heard the commotion, they went out to restrain Jesus, for people were saying, “He has gone out of his mind.” 22 And the scribes who came down from Jerusalem said, “He has Beelzebul, and by the ruler of the demons he casts out demons.” 23 And Jesus called them over to himself, and spoke to them in parables, “How can the Accuser cast out the Accuser? 24 If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. 25 And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand. 26 And if Satan has risen up against Satan and is divided, the evil one cannot stand, but their end has come. 27 But no one can enter a strong man’s house and plunder his property without first tying up the strong man; then indeed the house can be plundered.
  28 Very truly I tell you, people will be forgiven for their sin and whatever blasphemies they utter;

29 but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit can never have forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin”—30 for they had said, “He has an unclean spirit.”
  31 Then Jesus’ mother and brothers came; and standing outside, they sent to Jesus and called him. 32 A crowd was sitting around Jesus; and they said to him, “Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside, asking for you.” 33 And Jesus replied, “Who are my mother and my brothers?”

34 And looking at those who sat around him, Jesus said, “Here are my mother and my brothers!

35 Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister, my sibling, and mother.”

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Please pray with me this morning, church:

Healing God,

Together is difficult.

Together isn’t easy.

But it is what you call us to.

Stand amidst our division.

Remind us whose we are.

Call us again to be joined to you

And to one another.

Amen.

————–

Ah…summer…

That magical time of year.

Can’t you just feel it in the air? It’s finally June, and you know what that means… School’s out, the days are starting earlier and ending later (at least for a couple more weeks), companies are switching to summer hours, time for camping trips and beach weekends…

And this year feels a lot different than last year, right? We’ve got a lot of vaccines rolled out and continuing to roll out, people are feeling a bit freer to stretch their legs… Maybe you’re planning some time off, or some vacation travel…

And…June is also the start of hurricane season. Something we’re intimately familiar with here. So, it’s not all good…not all cupcakes and puppies…

Plus, I don’t know if y’all have noticed or not, but you live in Houston, so June and the start of summer means…it’s mosquito season! You know, Satan is never described in detail in the Bible, but I’m pretty sure the mosquito is the same archangel Lucifer that fell from heaven…I’m just saying…

Summer is also time for summer camps…and lucky for you, we’ve great a great Lutheran camp right here in the Gulf Coast Synod. Shameless plug: New Hope will be attending Lutherhill from June 27-July 2. See Pastor Janelle for more info.

Camping in Texas is a little different than, like, anywhere else in the US. You’ve gotta take extra precautions because of heat and things like that…watch out for those afternoon rain showers… But there really is nothing like summer camp. I highly recommend it to you. Some of my favorite memories growing up in the church are from summer camp. You come together with your cabin for a week, cabins are grouped into villages, all about the same age…and there’s a kind of…rivalry…that develops between all the villages and the different age groups.

And each cabin and village has a covenant. You come together and decide “How will we be together this week?” Your covenant is the agreed-upon set of guidelines—rules, even—for how each village will treat one another and how we will interact with the rest of camp.

I wonder if we should have something like that, like, as a people. As a society and a culture. I wonder if we should have some sort of set of guidelines that we all agree to, that this is how we will treat each other. It might have made the past 14 months go a little differently. What do you think?

It’s difficult, right? This whole…living together thing… I mean we’ve got laws and governance and people of faith have our religious texts…but even that, as I think we’ve discovered in recent months and years, even then, we’re not so sure that we’re talking about the same things…at least maybe not interpreting them the same. It’s a lot to try and work out how to live well together.

And this was the problem in the Corinthian church. I mean, it’s kind of a universal problem, right? But similar to the church in Galatia and many of the early Christ-believing communities, there were vehement disagreements between Jewish Christ-believers and Gentile Christ-believers. I mean, Jesus was Jewish, so did one have to be circumcised in order to belong to the community? Throughout his letters, St. Paul refutes this claim.

But particular to the Corinthian community was this question of class or status. See, in the Corinthian community, as with most communities, there was a broad mix of social classes and economic statuses. And the central thing to worship for the early Christ-believing communities, as it still is for most of us, was the communal meal, what we recognize as communion or the Eucharist. And there became this habit in the Corinthian community where the wealthy, because they didn’t have much to do during the day, would gather before the official meeting time, before their siblings of the lower class who had to work later into the day would get there. And they would eat and drink together, as you often do when you get together, kind of a social gathering, but they would consume the best food and drink and save the not-so-good stuff for the worship meal. Maybe it started out innocent, but it came to be this real stratification of the different classes of the worshiping community.

The haves and the have-nots.

The wealthy and the working poor.

Those with means and those without.

And this is kind of the crux of the issue that Paul is speaking to in his letters to the Corinthians. And it’s in this background, in this environment, that our worship series for the next few weeks is going to center.

What does it mean to live together?

What does it mean to live well together amidst division?

Are we even able to overcome some of our deepest divisions to imagine a future of living well together?

Is that even something we want? Do we want to live well together? Or is that kind of ideal just too pie-in-the-sky, Pollyanna nonsense, ignorant of the harsher realities of our world?

It’s a tough nut, for sure. It’s a question I’ve asked myself a lot over the past few years.

Because the truth is, we’re still stratified…and sometimes we live into that stratification, rather than God’s great truth that there is no longer Jewish believer or Gentile, servant or free…you are all one in Christ Jesus. Even here, there’s still division and stratification…and sometimes we live into that.

The haves and the have-nots.

The comfortable and the paycheck-to-paycheck.

Those with means and those who might be struggling a bit.

Elders and younger folks.

Vaccinated and unvaccinated.

The still-cautious and the antsy-to-return.

It’s a difficult question for me… But I keep getting drawn back in by our weekly pattern of worship, I keep getting drawn back into the Gospel, keep getting pushed and convicted and urged on by Jesus…I still think this ideal of living well together is worthwhile. I still think that’s what we’re called to, by God. I still stubbornly believe that’s God’s hope and dream for our world.

Together.

Together-ness.

A house divided against itself cannot stand.

What does it take—what will it take for us—to bind up the strong men of rhetoric and vitriol and contempt for one another? What will compel us to finally plunder our communal spaces from division and bigotry and hatred?

Nothing less than the radically subversive love of Christ that commands we see and treat one another as siblings, that we bind up the wounds of the afflicted, and heal those desperate for restoration and wholeness.

What got Jesus so riled up? What was it about what the scribes were saying that got Jesus so worked up that his family had to come out to calm him down?

Just before this, at the beginning of Mark 3, Jesus heals someone on the sabbath. The second half of chapter 1 and the first part of chapter 2 are more of the same—Jesus’ healing. So what is it about healing that’s so offensive to the religious leaders?

When you teach people that their proper place isn’t in some stratified class system…when you tell people that the kingdom of God is among and within them and that God isn’t to be found in offerings and temple systems, but among the poorest of the poor and the hungry and the outcast and the downtrodden…and not only is God there among them, but your call, Christian, is to serve them and love them, even at your own expense, even at the expense of what makes you comfortable…because it’s not about you…when you preach that love is what conquers all, not might and domination…when everything you say and do runs counter to the status quo and you actively work to upend that status quo…that’s when people in power start to get upset. And they start saying things like, “This healing that you’re doing, this love that you’re preaching…it sounds like it must be from the evil one.”

I imagine you’d be pretty outraged, too.

But it is a cautionary tale.

It is absolutely true that our only way out of this mess is together. But together isn’t what the world and the powers that be want to see you as. Our status quo thrives on division, on pitting us one against another, on telling you that this person over there is the source and cause of all your problems, and of course, your problem isn’t with the system, it’s with them over there.

But you need to know, dear people, that this is a lie.

Here are your siblings. Here is your mother, and your brother, and your father, and your sister. You are one. But this world will do all it can to tell you and convince you that you are not all part of the same family, and it’s going to take a lot to overcome that. It’s going to take a lot to overcome that within yourself. You will find yourself needing to be convinced that this is true.

That what’s best for the community might come at the expense of my own preferences and desires.

It’s been a challenging 14 months, church. And it’s going to take a lot to overcome where we are and get to where we hope to be. But we can do it…together.

Don’t lose heart.

This is a momentary affliction, but it’s nothing compared to God’s eternal glory.

Together is difficult. Together is challenging.

But it is the way forward.

It’s not the easy way.

It requires us to give up something of ourselves. Together requires that we do things in the interest of others, not only in our own interest. Together requires us to seek out the common good. To center and attend to the needs of those among us who are most vulnerable. To set aside our comfortability for the well-being and the health and safety of our neighbors.

But these afflictions are momentary, and they are nothing compared to God’s eternal glory.

How can you cross that dividing line this week, church?

What’s one thing you can do this week that seeks to bring someone in closer together, rather than driving them further away?

A divided house will fall.

But there’s nothing that can stand against a home that has been drawn together in unity and love.

Mark 11:1-11

1 When they were approaching Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two of his disciples 2 and said to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately as you enter it, you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden; untie it and bring it. 3 If anyone says to you, ‘Why are you doing this?’ just say this, ‘The Lord needs it and will send it back here immediately.’” 4 The disciples went away and found a colt tied near a door, outside in the street. As they were untying it, 5 some of the bystanders said to them, “What are you doing, untying the colt?” 6 The disciples told the bystanders what Jesus had said; and they allowed the disciples to take it. 7 Then the disciples brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it; and he sat on it. 8 Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields. 9 Then those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting, “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! 10 Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!” 11 Then Jesus entered Jerusalem and went into the temple; and when he had looked around at everything, as it was already late, Jesus went out to Bethany with the twelve.

—————

Please pray with me this morning, church:

Holy God,

In our lives full of burdens, of hurt, and of pain,

We reach out, searching for something to grab onto,

Something to save us.

Hear our cries of “Hosanna.”

Walk with us this Holy Week

From death into life.

Amen.

—————

We love a good story.

Some of you are avid bookworms. Some of you, like me, struggle to make time to read. But more than reading stories, almost universally, we love hearing stories.

There’s not much we enjoy more than sitting back with a cup of something warm or a glass of something cold and hearing, “Have I ever told you about the time…?” Unless, of course, we have heard about that time before…like 7 or 8 times…then it’s not always so enjoyable. But, in general, we like stories.

We’re story people.

We kind of construct our lives around stories. We tell stories about ourselves. We use stories to make meaning and make sense of what’s going on in our lives, of what’s going on in the world.

Stories are not only our history…they’re our present reality, and they’re the future we envision.

Stories tell us something true.

Palm Sunday—today—marks the beginning of a week of incredibly familiar stories. Holy Week is the most important week in the life of a Christian, and we know these stories well. And they’ve got all the elements of a memorable tale: great characters, shocking plot lines, heroic protagonists, detestable villains, high drama, and a surprising twist of an ending…this is the stuff good stories are made of.

One of the things about biblical stories, though, is that we have an overwhelming tendency to leave them there. We read them or we hear them in their historical context, but rarely, if ever, do we ask what these same stories might sound like in our time and place.

A different way of saying this might be, “Who would be Jesus in our time? What would this Jesus-person be doing in 2021?”

One of the things our Lenten series from A Sanctified Art called Again & Again: A Lenten Refrain has been trying to illustrate for us is how the biblical narratives don’t just reside in 1st century Palestine. In a way, the biblical stories we know so well are echoed throughout history, and in fact, are replayed and retold and reimagined in our own time. The whole premise of Again & Again is that these stories about Jesus and about the people Jesus ministered to repeat again and again, over and over, in an almost predictable pattern.

The biblical stories are part of a meta-narrative—or an overarching story—that has been true about us since the very beginning of our human history in God’s perfect garden all the way throughout the millennia. The biblical stories are about us because they are also our stories.

Again and again, powerful people act with impunity and seek to keep and exert their power over vulnerable populations.

Again and again, we dismiss and decry the ones in our midst who come to us telling us that we can choose to live a different way…a way marked by care and concern for our neighbor and the other.

Again and again, we cast aspersions on the prophetic voices that are sent to us and slap them with fluffed-up charges because they dare to challenge the status quo and dare to challenge us in ways that make us uncomfortable.

Again and again, injustice seems to win out.

Again and again, we kill innocent people in the name of safety, security, punishment, or justice.

Again and again, we seek to silence the voices of the ones who don’t tell us what we want to hear.

This is Jesus’ story.

But do you hear how this story also echoes throughout history? In fact, don’t you hear how this same story is still happening today?

Who are the religious authorities in our world? What are the occupying imperial forces in our time? Who are the ones for us that are in need of healing, in need of restoration, in need of wholeness?

Or what about the Palm Sunday procession…Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem…

Where do we see people demonstrating against an oppressive force? What are the powers and principalities of this world that movements rise up in opposition to? Who are the Messiah figures in 2021, the ones that we lift up and set on pedestals and proclaim them as our hope and our saviors?

Do you get it?

Do you hear how these stories are still so very true?

Do you hear how this very thing is still happening as we speak?

Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem was a mockery and a direct shot at the Roman Emperor and the occupying forces of the Roman Empire. That the crowd was adoring Jesus with palm branches and cloaks and shouts of “Hosanna!” was an intentional provocation and seditious act toward the religious establishment in Jerusalem.

Jesus is making a clear political statement here.

The emperors of war ride majestic horses in their parades. The Prince of Peace rides a colt.

The emperors of war have flowers thrown at their feet. The Prince of Peace has dusty cloaks and spare branches cut from the fields.

This is satirical political theater. It’s a direct action against the Empire.

Is it a protest march…? Maybe…

Jesus is showing how his rule and the kingdom of God are in direct opposition to the religious establishment, the occupying imperial forces, and the Caesar himself.

Jesus is a different kind of ruler. God is a different kind of king.

The idea of Palm Sunday and the reality of what Jesus’ procession actually meant don’t exactly match up for the people in Jerusalem.

And so when it finally sinks in for these people, these ones that are shouting “Hosanna!”, that Jesus threatening the power structures is going to have consequences for everyone associated with him, these people start to bail.

Even Jesus’ disciples will desert him.

Within a few days, those cries of “Hosanna!” will quickly turn to, at best, mutters of “I’ve never met the guy,” and at worst, shouts of “Crucify him!”

The stories of this Holy Week are salvation stories. They’re the stories of just how far God will go to rescue and save God’s people. And they’re relevant for us because we’re still very much in need of saving.

There are just a handful of words in the gospels that aren’t translated into Greek. They’re words that are untranslated Aramaic, which is likely the language Jesus spoke. Anyway, Hosanna is one of these words. Hosanna is an Aramaic word that means, very literally, “Save us.”

Those people waving palms in Jerusalem weren’t shouting praises, they were crying out for Jesus to save them. And when Jesus showed them what it would cost them…that the way of following Jesus is the way of giving up your life, of giving of yourself for others, the way of nonviolent resistance, the way of peace…they turned their cries of “Save us!” to shouts of “Crucify!”

Which, for us who sit on this side of Easter, who know that the cross was God’s act of salvation for all of humanity, know that they might have been shouting different words, but they were still crying out to be saved…

At our most basic and fundamental, we, too, are still crying out “Save us!” If you’re being honest with yourself, you know that you cannot save yourself.

…And deep in your heart of hearts, you know you don’t have to…

These stories of Holy Week are salvation stories.

They’re about God’s salvation for God’s people 2,000 years ago. And they’re about God’s salvation for you. For us. For this world. For our world.

Again and again, these same stories repeat time and time again.

Again and again, we find ourselves in need of salvation.

And again and again, God shows up to save us.

Welcome to Holy Week, church.

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

This is the story of your salvation.

Mark 8:31–9:9

31Jesus began to teach them that the Son of humanity must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. 32 He said all this quite openly. And Peter took Jesus aside and began to rebuke him. 33 But turning his back and looking at the disciples, Jesus rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”
  34 Jesus called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. 35 For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. 36 For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? 37 Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? 38 Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of humanity will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of God with the holy angels.”

1 And Jesus said to them, “Very truly I tell you, there are some standing here who will not taste death until they see that the reign of God has come with power. 2 And six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves, and was transfigured before them, 3 and Jesus’ clothes suddenly became dazzling, such as no one on earth could bleach them. 4 And there appeared to the disciples Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. 5 Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” 6 He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. 7 Suddenly a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is my child, the Beloved One; listen to him!” 8 Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus.
  9 As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of humanity had risen from the dead. 

—————

Please pray with me this morning, church:

Loving God,

We carry around so many things.

So many burdens weigh us down.

Help us to unburden this morning.

Help us to set down what is not ours to carry.

Help us to shoulder what we must.

Remind us of our call, that we are

Given as helpers to one another.

Amen.

—————

When we lived in Chicago, we lived on the top floor of a 3-story walk-up. And since it was just the 2 of us, we didn’t necessarily need to go to the grocery store every week. We could stock up, get enough groceries for 2 or 3 weeks, and for the most part, be fine.

Now, when we first moved to Chicago, I hadn’t yet discovered the joys or really understood the benefits of having my own reusable grocery bags, so when we would make these trips, we’d have like 20 or so bags of groceries. And, you guessed it, they all needed to make it up the stairs.

And…you also guessed it, they all needed to be carried up in 1 trip…because of course, they did.

And even once I wised up to reusable grocery bags, I found these wonderfully large canvas bags, so you could put even more groceries in them.

And, of course…all those needed to be carried up in 1 trip, too! Because of course, they did.

Now, I know you know what I’m talking about, church. Because I know that you do this, too. Raise your hand so I know that you’re with me…the true test of your grocery store prowess is not how quickly you can get in, get through your list, and get out…the truest test of your grocery shopping capabilities is can you get your bags from your car to your kitchen in one single trip.

Yes?

Yes. I knew I could count on you.

What if I told you you spend more energy on that one single overloaded trip than you would if you were to make multiple trips with fewer and lighter bags?

We are so good at weighing ourselves down unnecessarily.

We are masterful at carrying around extraordinarily heavy burdens that no one person was designed to carry.

You are not made to be weighed down, beloved child.

You are not created to shoulder such heavy burdens.

I want you to try something with me.

This Lent, with our series Again & Again we begin our time together with a kinesthetic—or an embodied—call to worship. The idea is that worship is a whole-body experience. I say it every Sunday, bring your full selves to worship. Including your body. Worship is something to be experienced by your full self, not simply something you go to or something you have going on in the background, but something you experience.

So I want you to try something with me.

Relax.

Slow your breathing.

Pull your shoulders down away from your ears…

How did I know you had your head hunched and shoulders up by your ears?

We do this when we’re stressed, or we have a lot going on, we tense up and our shoulders drift up and it actually causes us to be tenser. And so we’re caught in this increasingly perpetual stress cycle.

Straighten your neck and drop your shoulders.

And breathe.

Deep breath.

What are you carrying around with you?

What are you weighing yourself down with?

What heavy thoughts are trying to make their way into your consciousness right now?

What burdens are demanding your attention?

Breathe deep.

And let them go. Let them fall.

If even for only a moment, set them down.

You are not made to be weighed down, beloved child.

You are not created to shoulder such heavy burdens.

This is not to say that there aren’t very serious things in our lives that demand our attention. There certainly are. But it is to say, there are some things that are yours to carry, and some things that are not yours to carry alone.

Again and again, God calls us to listen.

To listen when God commands us to rest. To listen when Jesus says, “Come unto me all you who are weak and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.” To listen when God is calling us to a new way of living and being.

I’ve often asked you, in your prayers, if you listen for God as much as you talk to God. We’re so good at asking God for what we need or what we want. How well practiced are we in listening for what God is saying to us?

How well can we listen when our shoulders are so high up they’re covering our ears?

How well can we listen when we’re so preoccupied with all the bags of stuff we’re carrying around?

Look, church, there is stuff to be done, there is work that God is calling you to. It’s the work of discipleship, the work of being the hands and feet and heart of Christ in your neighborhood and in our world. “If any want to be my followers, let them deny themselves, take up their cross, and follow me.”

Why are you carrying around all those extraordinarily heavy burdens that are not yours to carry? Set them down and pick up the cross of Christ. I promise you, the cross of Christ is lighter and easier than those weighty worries. The cross of Christ is the cross of discipleship, a cross that demands from you nothing more and nothing less than your selfless, focused attention on your neighbor and those in your midst who are in the most need.

And here’s the gift, even the cross…is not shouldered alone.

Even Jesus…had help carrying his cross, you’ll remember.

This cross of Christ—this cross and this call to discipleship—is one that we pick up together…in community and with one another.

Never has that been more clear to us than in the aftermath of any number of disasters we’ve seen over the years. Certainly in the wake of that winter storm last week, that so many are still feeling the effects from, and will continue to be affected by for months to come. We only get through this together.

And we are.

Church, the ways that you have been reaching out, helping those in need, checking in on your friends and neighbors and family…truly this is what it means to be the church. We carry one another’s burdens.

And we rejoice in that. As the Psalmist writes this morning, our praise comes from God who has delivered us. Those in need are taken care of, the poor are satisfied, and those who seek God praise God.

This bit of Psalm 22 is a Psalm full of rejoicing, but if you’re paying close attention, you’ll know that Psalm 22 is all rejoicing. If you’ve got your bibles close by or the bible apps on your phones, check out the first half of Psalm 22. Check out verse 1… “My God…my God…why have you forsaken me…?”

Psalm 22 is the very Psalm quoted by Jesus as he hung on the cross.

So it’s important to note that all this rejoicing we heard this morning, comes after these intense feelings of feeling abandoned by God.

Declaring God’s praise comes after and in light of the Psalmist feeling abandoned by God.

Have you noticed that for yourself? That it’s usually only in hindsight and after the fact that we recognize God’s presence and action in the midst of our struggles…

When we name our hurts, when we are honest about the ways we feel distant from God or those feelings of God’s absence, when we can set down that baggage we carry around…then we find the space and the capacity within our selves to name and honor those times we recognize that God was faithful and present. Again and again, we see how God has always been present.

When we carry so much stuff around, when we’re so burdened and weighed down with so much extra junk, it can be hard to have the clarity of vision to be able to see God in the midst of all that stuff.

This is why it’s so important to take time to unburden ourselves, church. Those burdens, that heaviness…that is not yours to carry, beloved.

We are not meant to struggle under the weight of those things that hold us captive, oppress us, and prevent us from living full and marvelous lives…we are meant to enjoy the life our Creator has given us, we are meant to delight in God and shout and sing God’s praises, to remember and turn to the Lord, to bow down before God and to worship God.

That is our purpose.

That is our calling.

God delights so much in you, beautiful one. Would you make time and space in your life to delight in God?

Again and again, God offers to help carry your burdens.

You are not meant to carry them alone.

You are created to take up and carry the cross of Christ. A cross of discipleship. A cross of compassion and helping and sharing and love.

A cross that we carry together as a community of faith.

Set your burdens down.

Mark 1:9-15

9 In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan.

10 And just as Jesus was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. 11 And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”
  12 And the Spirit immediately drove Jesus out into the wilderness. 13 Jesus was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by the Accuser; and Jesus was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on Jesus.
  14 Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, 15 and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the dominion of God has come near, repent, and believe in the good news.”

—————

Please pray with me this morning, church:

Holy Wisdom,

Sometimes the wilderness feels endless.

Sometimes it’s all just too much.

Find us, this morning.

Find us, and lead us, and don’t leave us there.

Remind us of your nearness.

Amen.

—————

“I never thought my emergency preparedness or wilderness survival skills would be useful in the suburbs…”

How many of you had that thought this week?

Be honest…

Some of you know, I’m an Eagle Scout, and so while I’m thankful that I didn’t have to resort to pulling that far back in the skillset, I suppose it’s a comfort to know I could if I needed. I just…who would have thought that those kinds of skills would be useful or even needed in a time and a place like this? I mean, we have these hundreds of thousands of dollar homes, every creature comfort we could want, security systems, fireplaces, Egyptian cotton sheets… All reduced to naught…from a winter storm…

Wilderness survival, indeed.

We talk about Lent that way…wilderness, I mean.

It’s one of my favorite ways to talk about Lent actually…” a journey through the wilderness”…

We’re familiar with wilderness.

Maybe not camping, or backpacking, or sub-zero sleeping bags and MREs and starting fires with flint and steel…but we know wilderness. You know what it’s like to feel directionless.

You know what it feels like to feel so completely overwhelmed that you don’t even know if you can lift up your foot, much less which way to start traveling. You know what it feels like to have the icy blast of grief and hurt make its way all the way down your spine. You know what it’s like to expend more calories than you put in, working yourself to the bone, pouring so much out of yourself without ever pausing to receive and be filled up. You know what it feels like to lose your map, that thing in your life that no matter what else, that thing……or that person……would always tell you where you need to go…you know what it feels like to lose that…to not have them anymore…

Yeah…we know wilderness.

What are our survival skills? What helps you through those wildernesses?

In this season of Lent, what sustains you?

Church, to be completely honest, this whole pandemic event has felt like in some ways, Lent never really stopped. It feels like one long Lenten season.

And so you add a crisis on top of a disaster, and it becomes really hard to see your way through this wilderness…

And so in this season…in this wilderness…in this long Lent…what has sustained you? What has kept you going?

One of the first things I notice in our readings from Genesis and Mark this morning is the catastrophes. Maybe that’s true for you, too. Something about our news cycles that have us more tuned in to the bad stuff than the good. But the first things I notice are the flood, the loss of life, the temptation, the wilderness.

I’m initially kind of drawn to this negative part of the story, instead of what I notice on a second or third reading…God’s covenant, God’s promise, God’s declaration, God’s provision.

Isn’t that sometimes how it happens? Sometimes it’s only on a second or third reflection, only in hindsight, sometimes it’s only with some distance…that we’re able to see God present in those wilderness times.

Our theme for this season of Lent this year comes to us from a sanctified art and it’s called Again & Again: A Lenten Refrain. The theme reminds us that again and again, suffering and brokenness find us. Again and again, patterns of injustice, violence, hurt, and anger seem to win the day. Again and again is a familiar refrain, an unfortunately familiar pattern.

But even in the midst of that wilderness, our theme begs us to remember that again and again, God shows up. Again and again, God keeps God’s promises. Again and again, God chooses you, names you, claims you, and loves you back to life.

Again and again, God reminds us of God’s presence.

The covenant God made with Noah was a promise of presence. “I establish my covenant with you that never again shall all flesh be cut off…” Never again, will God’s people be cut off from God. God promises to remain. It’s a promise of presence.

God’s promise to Jesus in the Jordan is a promise of presence. “You are my Son, the Beloved. With you, I am so, so pleased.” God names Jesus, and God names you, as a beloved child. It’s a promise of presence.

“Jesus was in the wilderness for forty days, being tempted. Jesus was with the wild beasts, and the angels waited on him.” The angels served Jesus. It’s a promise of presence.

“The reign of God is near, it is imminent, it is close.” It’s a promise of presence.

Who needs your presence this week, church?

Who can you reach out to and check in on during this wilderness season?

We’ve heard so many stories this week, church, of you, stepping up and reaching out. So many stories of you showing up as the hands and feet of Christ in our community this week. I talked about it on Ash Wednesday, but when we put out the call this week that we had folks in our community without water and power, we had so many more offers to help than we had need.

You are the angels sent to serve in the midst of this wilderness, church.

You are the ones baptized and named beloved by God and sent out to live and love like Jesus in our hurting world.

Time to put those survival skills to work.

Yours is the presence we need in this wilderness.