Ninth Sunday After Pentecost

Luke 12:32-40

[Jesus said:] 32 “Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is God’s good pleasure to give you God’s kingdom. 33 Sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. 34 For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

35 “Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit; 36 be like those who are waiting for the bridegroom to return from the wedding banquet, so that they may open the door for him as soon as he comes and knocks. 37 Blessed are those servants whom the master finds alert when he comes; truly I tell you, he will fasten his belt and have them sit down to eat, and he will come and serve them. 38 If the master comes during the middle of the night, or near dawn, and finds them so, blessed are those servants.

39 “But know this: if the owner of the house had known at what hour the thief was coming, the owners would not have let the house be broken into. 40 You also must be ready, for the Son of humanity is coming at an unexpected hour.”

 

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Please pray with me this morning, church:

Loving God,

You persist in lavishing us with good things.

Give us hearts that yearn after those

People for whom your own heart yearns.

Mold us into compassionate disciples

And give us courage to boldly live into our values.

Amen.

 

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A good friend and mentor, who is a pastor out in North Carolina, often tells the same story whenever he talks about stewardship. He tells the story of his grandmother who was meticulous in keeping her checkbook, showing my colleague all the entries and how much went to this person or organization and how much went to this thing or that thing. And the way he tells it, as she was doing this she said to him, “You can tell a lot about a person just by looking at their checkbook. If you want to know what or who a person values, look at their checkbook.”

 

If you want to know what someone’s values are, look at how they spend their money.

 

Our gospel reading from the Gospel of Luke this morning isn’t inherently a stewardship text, it seems like it’s more just like a collection of sayings attributed to Jesus that the gospel compilers didn’t know where else to put so they just kind of rammed them in here in the middle of chapter 12…but I do think these verses speak about values. And if my friend’s grandmother is correct, and I think she is, our values are necessarily linked to our stewardship.

What are your values, church? What do you say you’re passionate about? Who do you say you’re for? What causes and ideas will you put yourself and your reputation on the line for?

 

The verses this morning come after our reading from last week when we talked about the wealthy landowner who gave no thought to the poor and marginalized in his midst, and also after this lovely teaching from Jesus that we didn’t hear in worship about worry and how worrying doesn’t add life to your years or years to your life, and how much more valuable are you, dear child, than birds and lilies. Jesus continues this morning, “Don’t worry…and don’t be afraid, for it is God’s good pleasure to give you the treasures of God’s kingdom. And where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

 

We’ve talked about these good gifts that God gives to God’s people now for quite a few weeks. And today Jesus says that God delights in giving God’s people those good things, namely the treasures of God’s kingdom. And it’s interesting that Jesus is talking about the treasures of God’s kingdom, instead of saying that God will give you the treasures of your heart. But like we talked about with the Lord’s Prayer, like we talked about last week with storing up wealth and riches for yourself without a thought toward those in need, God is intent on bringing about God’s dominion, God’s kingdom, God’s reign of peace and love and justice and equity—not what our heart desires, but what God’s heart desires. Your dominion come, God, your will be done.

Because when we confuse God with a divine vending machine, we think that God will give us whatever we want or ask for, but God promises to give us the gifts of God’s kingdom, which isn’t necessarily our own heart’s desire. But…Jesus says…”Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” If God gives us the treasures of God’s kingdom, if we receive those gifts as treasures, our hearts will long after those treasures of God’s kingdom as well.

 

What are your values, church? What are those causes and ideas and people that your heart longs after? Are they the same things that God’s heart longs for? I wonder, how have your values changed over the years, over the past 2 and a half years of a pandemic, and as you’ve gotten older…?

 

We’re in a season of clarifying values here at New Hope, as well.

 

We value worship.

We value thoughtful, engaging, inspiring worship. We value worship that draws you closer to God and propels you to be close in proximity to your neighbor. We value making a joyful noise; whether it’s your lovely voices joined together in song, our extraordinary organ and musicians, our outstanding choir, and even the shrieks and laughter of our young people, the Psalmist tells us to make a joyful noise to praise God, and so we do.

It also means that we need you to do it. The fullness of our expression as a worshiping community that praises God depends on you and on your presence. It’s been a real gift of the pandemic that we can now worship wherever we are, that new people to our worshiping community can join us from across the United States, and that you can join us when you’re away from this place. It’s why I have you wave hi to our friends every single Sunday, because they, too, are part of this community. But we do recognize that it’s a mediated part. I hope that livestreaming doesn’t become a substitute for joining worship physically in-person. Because when you are here, present, and physically in this space, we are more reflective of the fullness and the beauty of our worshiping community. I long to see our friends who join us every week on our livestream, at such time as they are able to be here.

 

We value consequential faith.

We value asking questions, exploring together, in dialogue, in conversation. We believe that faith doesn’t stop developing at Confirmation. We believe that we are, all of us, on a lifelong journey of growing and being challenged and being changed in our faith. It’s why we try and offer so many options to grow and ask questions. From bible studies to book studies to Sunday School classes to retreats…just as important as worship, is a regular practice of growing in your faith. As we get ready to start a new program year, I deeply hope that you will find an education class on Sunday morning, that you would bring your kids and grandkids regularly, and that you would invite someone to join you. Pastor Janelle is doing a truly wonderful job at pulling everything together, but similar to worship, your presence is needed. Not just to attend, but to volunteer, to teach, to lend your voice, and to help shepherd and lead our young ones. We will give you everything you need, but if you feel called to help our youngest members grow in their faith, would you reach out to me or Pastor Janelle and let us know? We could really really use your help this year.

 

We value inclusivity.

We value the beautiful spectrum of all of God’s children, and we want to be clear that all are created in God’s image. We recognize that some of us is not all of us, and when there are some who don’t feel welcome at God’s house and around God’s table, this community is, once again, less reflective of the fullness and the beauty of God’s creation and the magnificent diversity with which God has blessed us. Over the coming weeks and months, you’re going to be hearing more about how we’ll begin having this conversation about welcome and hospitality and inclusion, and how we hope New Hope comes to be known as a place that is clear and explicit about it’s welcome, hospitality, and inclusion.

 

We value service.

We value showing love, compassion, and kindness to our neighbors, to those we don’t know, and to those who aren’t here yet. We know that sometimes we, too, have needed a hand up, and we strive to look for opportunities to be those hands for others. We value being the hands, feet, and heart of Christ in our community, in our neighborhood, in our city, and in our world.

 

The common theme throughout all of these, church, is you.

We cannot grow into the fullness of any of our values without you. We need your presence. We need your commitment.Yes, if we want to fund these things, we need your offerings…

But we need you.

Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

 

You’re going to be hearing from our Council over the next couple of weeks, and things aren’t super-great financially, and not as good as we’d hoped over the first half of this year. We’re trying to do as much as we can, but if you could make an extra gift or give a little bit more, it’d certainly go a long way to help us out. I do have faith that we can make it through these times, but like I’ve said lots of times this morning, we need you, we need all of us, to do it.

 

It’s during these times, I find that one of things I’m valuing more and more is connection. I value reconnecting with people. I value seeing people and spending time with them.

So whether it’s the Sugar Land Space Cowboys game coming up, that we hope you’ll wear your new New Hope shirts to, or our “God’s work. Our hands.” service Sunday coming up in about a month, or any of the Faith Formation and bible studies and Sunday School classes that are coming up…I deeply hope I’ll see you there.

I value trying to live into this new thing God is doing here at New Hope.

 

It’s been a long 2 and half years of a pandemic. And we’ve tried as best we can to keep things moving through this in-between time as we figure out how to live well together in the midst of all this strangeness, but it’s been hard. And so I’m asking.

Will you be here? Will you commit?

Will you show up and trust God to do what God does…to move mightily among us, to do so much more than we could ever ask or possibly imagine, to multiply our gifts and resources and energies, to make them so much more than they could ever be on their own…will you hold that faith with me, church?

 

Jesus urges the disciples and the crowd gathered to be watchful and alert.

Be on your guard, for you don’t know when the bridegroom is coming to the door.

Pay attention, church…attentive to the new thing God is doing here at New Hope.

I am excited.

I’m thrilled to see the ways God will move in this place.

As we come together in faith, as we learn from each other, and as we live into our values.

I’m thrilled to see the ways God will move through you.

 

Eighth Sunday After Pentecost

Luke 12:13-21

13 Someone in the crowd said to Jesus, “Rabbi, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.” 14 But Jesus replied, “Friend, who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you?” 15 And Jesus said to the crowd, “Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” 16 Then Jesus told them a parable: “The land of a rich man produced abundantly. 17 And the landowner thought to himself, ‘What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?’ 18 Then he said, ‘I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. 19 And I will say to my self, Self, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’ 20 But God said to the landowner, ‘Fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’ 21 So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God.”

 

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Please pray with me this morning, church:

Loving and generous God,

With so much to worry about these days,

So much that demands our attention,

So much that dials up our anxieties,

You keep calling us and turning us toward our neighbor.

Call us and turn us again this morning.

Keep reorienting us toward those in need

And toward you.

Amen.

 

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There’s a game that gets played between Tiffany and I and our families. Whether it’s my parents or my in-laws, every time we go out to dinner or for a meal, there’s a gamesmanship and jockeying that happens for who’s going to get the check. It’s a lighthearted game, but there are some meals where the winner has had to get pretty creative in how they will get their card to the waiter. There was once when my father-in-law gave his card to the waitress before they even seated us for the meal.

All in good fun.

 

Generosity is a learned habit, and it’s usually learned by seeing it and experiencing it from others. I never saw my parents decline an opportunity to be abundant with their generosity toward others. I noticed that, I picked up on it, and it’s a habit I strive to keep to in my own life. Even knowing now what I didn’t know then, which is that there were certainly some lean times…we weren’t rich, by any stretch, but my sister and I always had everything we needed and so much more. What I know now, and what you certainly know, church, is that there are lean times, but generosity isn’t just limited to picking up the check when you go out to eat.

 

We can become preoccupied with materiality during those times. Obsessively checking our bank accounts or our wallets. Constantly refreshing your retirement account. It’s like the doomscrolling you’ve heard me mention before about social media, but with money. It gives you anxiety. And it’s needless. And look, I get it, I can fall victim to that same trap. Preoccupied with worry, preoccupied with what we don’t have…and I’m called to help lead and shepherd this small non-profit, so I’ve got two bank accounts to worry and fret over! Double the anxiety! Double the fun!

But it’s this worry and this preoccupation that Jesus is addressing this morning.

 

After a word of caution against greed, Jesus launches into a parable about an extremely wealthy landowner who has a great year. A few notes of context: landowners in the 1st century, unlike the farmers many of you are thinking about, many of which may be your relatives, landowners did not necessarily do their own work. Landowners, obviously, owned the land, and paid others, hired servants, to do the work on their land for them. It wasn’t an inherently oppressive system, workers were paid, but as with all things, and as all of you are well aware, in economic systems, if you’re making money, you’ve gotta make your money somehow. Landowners paid hired servants to do the work, but if they were turning a profit, it’s because the proceeds of the sale of their crops brought in more money than they were paying out in wages and spending on equipment. Economics 101. Revenue vs. expense.

It’s also important to note that Hebrew law, Torah, expressly forbid charging interest on loans, making vast amounts of money at the expense of others, and hoarding and keeping for yourself without a thought toward those on the margins of society—the poor, the outcast, the downtrodden, the stranger, the immigrant, the sojourner, and the vulnerable. Torah commanded that you leave the edges of your field, about 10% of your crops, unharvested for those folks to glean from. This was apart from the 10% that you were to dedicate to God, right? That was your tithe, your first fruits, the first 10% of your harvest that was to be given to God, offered at the temple. So you were left with about 80% of what your produced.

 

The landowner in Jesus’ parable doesn’t do this. He has a great year. So great, that he has more produce than he has space to store it. “I’ll pull down my barns, level them to the ground, and build bigger ones, with enough room to store it all. And I’ll say to myself, ‘Self, you’ve done well. Relax, eat, drink, and be merry.’” 

  1. My. Myself. Self. I. Me.

Without a passing thought to those who actually did the work in the fields. Without a passing thought to those with whom he’s commanded to share his abundance.

Then all of sudden, God shows up, calls it curtains for the landowner, and now whose stuff does it become? Who gets to enjoy the proceeds of this abundant harvest? The workers? The laborers? The poor, the strangers, the immigrants, and the outcast?

 

The author of Luke spends more time talking about wealth and money than any other gospel writer, and Luke certainly has some harsh words for the wealthy in their society, but Luke’s harshest criticisms are for those who make and enjoy their wealth at the expense of others, who make their money through the systemic oppression and subjugation of others. Jesus’ condemnation here isn’t that the landowner had a great year of abundance, but that his plan for storing this abundance gave no thought to others. No thought to his workers, no thought to the downtrodden and those in need, no thought to anyone who wasn’t himself.

 

It’s the same thing we’ve been talking about this whole month. It’s the lawyer’s question to Jesus from a few weeks ago: “Who is my neighbor?” How will I utilize the opportunities given to me to show compassion, hospitality, mercy, and love toward my neighbor, toward those in need, toward those who I don’t know very well at all but who are still in need of a hand-up just the same?

Church, it’s the question at the heart of baptism, at the heart of who we are called to be as followers and disciples of Christ. If God has been so abundantly and extravagantly generous in faithfulness, love, compassion, and goodness with you—those incredibly good gifts like we talked about last week—if God has been so faithful and loving toward you, how much more are you, as baptized Christians and disciples of Jesus, called to be abundantly and extravagantly generous with others, with your neighbor, with strangers, with your community, and with the world?

 

This is the call placed on Colson’s life this morning. It’s the call placed on you and on your life through your baptism, church. It is who we are called to be as baptized members of the household of God and as followers of Christ and disciples of Jesus.

 

In the Psalm we read this morning, the Psalmist recounts God’s faithfulness throughout history. From creation, to the deliverance from Egypt, and the Israelites’ sojourn in the desert…throughout all of time, God remains faithful. “Her faithful love is everlasting.” The very character of God is faithful and loving. God remains faithful in her love toward her people. God has been faithful in love toward her people before, and we can trust that she will act faithfully and lovingly toward God’s people again, toward us, in our present, and in our future.

This is God’s great promise made to us through baptism, that nothing in all of creation can separate us from the love of God. Whatever we do, however far we wander, however much we mess up, God remains faithful and loving toward us. And if this is God’s posture toward us, how much more, then, is it a model for us in our posture toward God and toward one another? Since God has been so faithful and loving toward us, part of our baptismal calling is to be vessels of that same faithful love toward our neighbors.

 

The wealthy landowner was preoccupied with himself. I. My. Myself. Self. I. Me.

When we are consumed by our self, and our stuff, and our things, we are incapable of turning our focus outward. This is Luther’s definition of sin, interestingly, that we are incurvatus in se—to be “turned in on one’s self”—to be so focused on me and my and my self that we are incapable of seeing and responding to our neighbor in need.

 

The liberating good news of the Gospel is that God’s love and faithfulness unbends our backs. God loves us back to upright, and calls us not only to see our neighbor and those in need, but to extend hands and hearts of help, mercy, compassion, forgiveness, and love to the world.

If God has been so abundantly and extravagantly generous with you, dear people, how much more are you called to be generous with others?

Generosity begets generosity.

Not a preoccupation with your self.

Not a preoccupation with what you have or don’t have.

Not a preoccupation with having enough space.

But a preoccupation with your neighbor.

And making sure your neighbor has enough.

 

Seventh Sunday After Pentecost

Luke 11:1-13

1 Jesus was praying in a certain place, and after he had finished, one of the disciples said to him, “Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.” 2 Jesus said to them, “When you pray, say: 

 Father, Mother, Parent, hallowed be your name.

  Let your dominion come.

  3 Give us each day our daily bread.

  4 And forgive us our sins,

   for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us.

  And do not bring us to the time of trial.”

5 And Jesus said to them, “Suppose one of you has a friend, and you go to that friend at midnight and say, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread; 6 for a friend of mine has arrived, and I have nothing to set out.’ 7 And your friend answers from within, ‘Do not bother me; the door has already been locked, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot get up and give you anything.’ 8 I tell you, even though the friend will not get up and provide anything because of the friendship, at least because of the neighbor’s persistence the friend will get up and provide whatever is needed.

9 “So I say to you, Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. 10 For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. 11 Is there anyone among you who, if your child asks for a fish, will give a snake instead of a fish? 12 Or if the child asks for an egg, will give a scorpion? 13 If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will God, the heavenly Parent, give the Holy Spirit to those who ask!”

 

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Please pray with me this morning, church:

Holy One,

Teach us to pray.

Give us words when we feel lacking.

Give us energy to serve and devote to others.

Give us melodies to sing our prayers to you.

May our very lives be prayer and praise.

Amen.

 

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I’ve long been jealous of folks who can just rattle off eloquent and thoughtful prayers at the drop of a hat. That’s not me.

One Thanksgiving a few years ago, we were celebrating with Tiffany’s family and I got asked to pray before the meal, because when you’re in seminary, and later when you’re a pastor, you generally get asked to pray at things…unless we’re with Tiffany’s grandmother, who was a Pentecostal pastor way back when…when Gigi’s around, Gigi prays… Anyway, I have a bad habit of fidgeting and shuffling my feet when I get nervous, so I started in on this prayer, thanking God for the abundance of blessing of family and food and gathering together, and I took a step backward right into the dogs’ water bowl…which really threw me off and so then I just kind of had to wrap it up at that point.

These days I tend to plot out a prayer in my head if I think there’s a chance I’ll get asked to pray at something. Just in case. It really helps the nerves.

I also take note of any rogue water bowls in the immediate area.

 

I have a theory that most folks’ aversion to prayer isn’t so much about praying as it is about public speaking, but there’s also a little bit of crossover with public speaking about something as close to us and personal as our faith. There’s a sense of anxiety and nerves and not wanting to “mess it up” when we think about praying with or in front of others. We may feel like we want a little bit of training first, or some pointers. Like the disciples, we ask God, “Teach us to pray.”

 

What an honest urging…”Teach us to pray…”

 

When I was doing my chaplaincy internship, one of my learning goals was to learn how to pray better. I wanted to have something meaningful and comforting to say to folks and patients in their hospital rooms and at these most important times in their lives.

 

Lord, teach us to pray.

 

Last week, we talked about the need for balance between the hustle and bustle and doing of Martha and the attentive listening of Mary…and how part of that attentive listening is done through prayer and conversation with God. And so if we’re going to pray, how, then, should we pray?

Jesus lays out the very familiar Lord’s Prayer…not the one we’re most used to that comes to us from the gospel of Matthew, but a fairly similar one here in the gospel of Luke.

 

First of all, Jesus says, begin by blessing God. “Heavenly Parent, bless you, holy is your name.”

The prayer begins by defining the relationship between God and the one praying, the relationship of a parent to a child. It’s a relationship of respect, but one that also names a kind of dependency. We are dependent on God for the things that we need. We need God to provide for us. It’s a vulnerable posture, especially for those of us who are used to acting and believing that we do everything ourselves, bootstraps and all.

 

“Your kingdom come.”

We ask that God’s kingdom, the reign and the dominion of God, the fullness of God’s vision for our world…would be made manifest in our present time and place. A recognition that the fullness of God’s vision has yet to be realized among us, so we entreat God to make it so, and to make us agents in bringing that about. It kind of flies in the face of this idea that the kingdom of God is some far-off reality only to be wished for and only to be glimpsed and realized when we die. Asking the reign of God to be made known in our present is an affirmation of what Jesus will say in Luke chapter 17, “The kingdom of God is within you.” It’s among you. It’s here, and now, and is a promised future that is ready to be lived into in this present time and place. It’s one of my favorite verses in the Bible and I never get to preach on it because it never comes up in the lectionary…”The kingdom of God is within you.” A powerful statement that I think shifts our focus from some far-off, imagined, hoped-for time and redirects our attention and focus to the here and now and those in need in our midst.

Sometimes prayer looks like action, doing what we can with what we have to make God’s dream a reality here, by serving those most in need. It’s what we did this week with Family Promise and what we talked about just a bit ago with our New Hope 101 session about how so much of the ethos and DNA of New Hope is a focus on Service and Mission, and particularly serving the most vulnerable of our neighbors. We talked about how our hope is that every single person at New Hope finds at least one internal ministry and one external ministry to give your time and energy to. Sometimes prayer is action through service.

 

“Give us each day that which is needful for life.”

Martin Luther, in the Small Catechism, says that daily bread is everything we need to live—food, housing, shelter, family, relationships—everything that is necessary for a full and abundant life. Again, naming that we are reliant on God for the things we need. A recognition that everything we do have comes to us from God. God is the one who provides.

 

Then Jesus launches into this story about a persistent neighbor and uses it to illustrate those who are persistent in prayer. And while I would certainly advocate for our need to pray more and pray persistently, I do think we misunderstand or mischaracterize the imperatives to “ask, seek, and knock.”

A neighbor shows up to your door in the middle of the night, asking for a few loaves of bread to feed their guest who has just arrived. Church, I don’t like getting out of bed to take my toddler back to his room, much less to answer the door for someone who needs to borrow bread. Come back tomorrow. I’m already in bed. The kitchen’s closed. I really identify with the posture of the neighbor behind locked doors.

 

And isn’t that where a lot of us might prefer to stay anyway, right? I’m in bed, my children are with me, we’re asleep, don’t bother us, we’re safe here… There’s so much that’s so scary in the world right now…behind locked doors, with my family, safe…truthfully, that’s where I’d prefer to be. Sometimes prayer is a deep sigh at all the scary things in the world, because sometimes all we can do is sigh and trust that God knows what we mean. Especially in a world where it seems as if we are so good at giving our children evil gifts rather than good gifts, as Jesus talks about later in today’s reading. We who are evil might know how to give our kids good gifts, but these days, we certainly do seem to be handing out snakes and scorpions to our young ones, rather than fish and eggs. Bulletproof backpacks, active shooter drills, a world where civil liberties seem to be regressing…these don’t feel like good gifts… No, I think I’d like to stay here behind my locked doors with my family. At least here I feel like we’re safe.

Can you relate?

 

“But then, because of the neighbor’s persistence, their neighbor will relent and give them what they need.”

God is persistent in loving you, church, and in lavishing you extravagantly with good things. How much more are we called to persistent in love and generosity and abundantly lavishing good things on our neighbors, on our young people, and on those who haven’t been given a fair shake in this world?

 

I think we tend to interpret Jesus’ imperatives to “ask, seek, and knock” as an indication that if we just pray more, if we just ask God more persistently for what we want, then God will relent and give us what we’re asking for. But friends, that reduces God to a vending machine…doling out the things you ask for if you just put in enough quarters or ask nicely enough. And church, we know that’s not how these things work. You’ve prayed for things often enough that haven’t come to be, that you know that’s not how prayer works. Church, it’s not how God works…

Countless theologians from Kierkegaard to Luther to the Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr. to the Reverend William Barber III to even Pope Francis have all said some version of this about prayer—prayer is not a way to bend God’s will to conform to your own…rather, prayer reorients us and opens us up to having our will shaped and molded to conform to God’s.

 

Notice the shape and direction of the Lord’s Prayer, and particularly note the reason for the neighbor’s persistence. The neighbor is asking on behalf of a guest who has visited them, they are asking so that they may show the hospitality required of them to their guest. The Lord’s Prayer asks God to forgive us, as we have forgiven those indebted to us. In both cases, the direction is outward. Prayer beseeches and asks God on behalf of others, prayer is focused and located outside of ourselves. Not what I want…but what you want, God…make me to be that which my neighbor needs, use me to care for my neighbor, to provide what they need, to lavish them with good things as you have have given those things to me.

 

In that way, prayer’s really quite simple, church.

God, thank you.

Help me to be for others what they need.

Use me to help make our world just a bit more reflective of your dream and vision for us.

 

And if all that still feels like too much, the Psalmist today reminds us that our worship and praise is prayer, too. Let the liturgy today be your prayer. Let this community’s prayers be your prayer. Let these hymns be your prayer. Our Sending Hymn today is an exceptional prayer based off a prayer of St. Patrick. “God, be the love between us. Christ, surround me.” Let this singing be your prayer.

 

There are so many ways to pray.

Try it, church.

I can tell you prayer is one of those things that really does get easier with practice.

 

Sixth Sunday After Pentecost

Luke 18:38-42

38 Now as Jesus and his disciples went on their way, Jesus entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. 39 She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. 40 But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to Jesus and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.” 41 But Jesus answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; 42 there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”

 

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Please pray with me this morning, church:

God of our moving and our being,

There are seasons of our lives when

We are called to more active doing and and busy-ness.

And there are seasons of our lives when

You call us to slow down, listen, and reflect.

Help us to discern these seasons in our lives.

Give us wisdom and boldness to join you

In the movement in which you are already active in our world.

Amen.

 

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Summer’s a good time for vacation.

 

I’m not exactly sure why or how we’ve collectively arrived at this conclusion, but it does seem as if we’ve all just kind of decided that summer is when we’ll take the majority of our vacations. Although if I knew who to write my letter to, I’d petition for vacation season to be shifted to my personal favorite season of autumn, but I’m not sure it’d get much traction with the school administrators or even here around the church with our own program year calendars. Oh well…

 

Many of you have taken vacations recently. Some of you, newly retired, with all your new-found freedom, “Every season is vacation season!” Good for you.

You know I just recently took my own time away, and this was really the first time that I took some time off in this way before, with such a big chunk all at once. And honestly, I’m not sure I’ll go back to 5- and 7-day stretches ever again. Because I found that it usually takes me about 3-4 days to really unplug my brain and get into time-off mode. And so if I’m only taking a week at a time, I’ve got to start ramping up just as soon as I’ve ramped down. But this time was different. This time, I was really able to refresh and rejuvenate, and it was really good. So thank you, church, again, for the time.

But the flipside and tradeoff of this is that it’s taken me a little bit longer than usual to get back into the flow of things. I’ve been back for like, 2 weeks now, and I’m really only just now starting to get my feet back under me.

Good and needful refreshment……little bit longer to ramp back up…

 

In so many ways my body was…(is…?)…still inhabiting the restful rejuvenation of Mary, and my brain was…(is…?)…racing trying to pull and force my body to get back to the doing and the work of Martha.

 

Over the past few weeks, we’ve kind of methodically been making our way through chapters 9 and 10 of Luke. Next week, we’ll just briefly touch chapter 11 and then begin making our way through chapter 12 the week after. But what’s important to remember and recognize is, recall a few weeks ago when Jesus said “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests; but the Son of humanity has no place to lay his head.” And remember just before that how the reading began “When the time drew near for Jesus to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem.”  Jesus is on a collision course with the cross. Nothing can deter or detract from this mission. Not an unwelcoming Samaritan village, not burying dead family members or long goodbyes, not people and towns who will not receive the message of the disciples, not upstanding religious folk who fail to see their neighbor in need right in front of their face…not even the generous hospitality of one of Jesus’ closest companions, Martha, can be allowed to push Jesus off-course. In corporate jargon, they call this scope-creep or mission-creep.

Nothing can be allowed to deter or detract from the mission. Jesus is on his way, and the cross and the crucifixion is the only thing that matters.

Many things might be good and necessary in this moment, only one thing is needful, only one thing is essential.

The essential thing is Jesus’ journey to the cross.

The essential thing is for Jesus to teach, and for the disciples to learn and soak up as much of this Jesus knowledge as they can while Jesus is on this mission.

 

“You are worried and distracted by many things.” Well, geez Jesus…rude…just tag me in your social media post next time… Church, these are Jesus’ words to Martha, but how many of us are worried and distracted by many things? In a world of the constant and endless news cycle, over the past 2 years when many of us occupied our quarantine time with doomscrolling, we are inundated with the next breaking story, the next mass hysteria, the next tragic injustice, the latest loss of civil liberties, the latest officer-involved shooting, the most recent war halfway around the world…to say nothing of the very real cares and concerns of your own household, your partner, your spouse, your kids and grandkids…there is no shortage of things that demand our attention.

 

Jesus says, “Just for a moment…sit…and be still…and listen.”

Set down your phone. Turn off the notifications. Shut your computer. Put your day planner away.

Just sit. And be. And listen. And soak in. And learn.

 

When we are attentive to what Jesus is saying, we just might hear the most important words Jesus will ever tell us, which is that you, dear child, are loved beyond measure. You are precious, you are worthy, you are valuable, you are valued, you are extraordinary, and you are enough.

And you are called to share that beautiful and wonderful message with a world that is desperate to hear just a bit of good news. You are called to share that beautiful and wonderful word of love with your neighbor who is certainly longing deep within their heart of hearts to hear just that about themselves.

 

Which isn’t to say there isn’t work to be done, or that there won’t be work to be done. Lord, we know that’s true. But it does mean that we shouldn’t endeavor to take on the work without first pausing and listening and reflecting on just what God and Jesus and the Spirit might be calling us to.

 

I’m so excited for this current season at New Hope. As we continue to make our way out of the worst parts of this pandemic, I feel like we really have an opportunity to lay everything out on the table, listen intently for God and the Spirit, discern together, and to respond faithfully to what we’re hearing. Our Capital Campaign has been on a tear recently. The interior of our Community Center is effectively finished. We’ve got a new gym floor, updated rooms and classrooms, new doors, new paint…and starting this week, we’ll be hosting the Family Promise families in there for dinner. I really encourage you to stop by and spend some time with these extraordinary families this week if you can. Let them know this church prays for them and is deeply invested in their success in the Family Promise program to move them from housing insecurity to more stable footing.

 

Just today we started a series of conversations with new members and visitors and long-time members, and we’ll be welcoming new members in a couple of months, which is something we haven’t really done since the start of the pandemic.

In just a short couple of months we’ll start a new program year and everything that comes along with that. New Faith Formation classes, getting back into Christian education and Sunday School, small groups and bible studies kicking back up… We’ve got new bible studies starting, a new book study especially for parents coming up in August, some fellowship opportunities, ways for you to reconnect with this community of faith and with one another…which is something I think we’re all recognizing is super-important in our lives right now. Also coming up soon, I’m so so so excited that we’re going to be starting an intentional conversation about Welcoming, Hospitality, and Inclusion.

 

And y’all…can I just say…have you seen the Nursery yet?

Holy cow…there’s so much room for activities! Seriously, if you haven’t already, please go check it out. And Pastor Janelle… Y’all…Pastor Janelle… Not only did she cover for me while I was away…not only did she take on the sprucing up of the Prayer Garden and getting new benches and new flowers and plants out there…not only is she doing all the regular ministry things as our Pastor of Faith Formation…she’s also getting our Faith Formation classrooms set up in the Community Center, as well as the supply closet (which is a monstrous undertaking)…but she’s also taking the lead on this Nursery project and trying to get our brand new Nursery outfitted with all the things it needs to be a wonderful ministry here. Will you just join me in thanking her for her incredible dedication and so much hard work…? Y’all…seriously…

And…we are trying to get some more things for our new Nursery, so check out our Amazon wish list in our Anchor newsletter, and if you can’t get one of the big ticket items, will you make an extra monetary gift with your offering and just designate it to the Nursery project and we’ll make sure it gets to where it needs to go. We could really really use your help.

 

Church, I’m so excited for this next season of life and ministry here at New Hope. You are not going to want to miss what’s coming up.

 

It feels like a big season of doing, but I think there’s just as much intentionality and thoughtful reflection infused throughout. We are listening in this moment. And praying. And having conversation.

Many things might be necessary in this moment—many things feel and are important—and…the first needful and essential thing is to first listen to Jesus. To pray, to invite the Holy Spirit, and then to listen, and to pay attention.

 

It’s an exciting season, church.

I invite you to rest and renew and listen and pray with us.

And I invite you join in the doing and the work where your gifts can be best used.

It takes all of us…Marthas and Marys alike.

Thank God it takes all of us.

 

Fifth Sunday After Pentecost

Luke 10:25-37

25 Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. “Rabbi,” he said, “what must I do to possess an abundant life?” 26 Jesus said to the lawyer, “What is written in Torah? What do you read there?”

27 The lawyer answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” 28 And Jesus said to him, “You have answered rightly; do this, and you will have life.”

29 But wanting to justify himself, the lawyer asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” 30 Jesus replied, “A certain man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. 31 Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when the priest saw the man, he passed by on the other side. 32 So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw the man, passed by on the other side. 33 But a Samaritan while traveling came near the man; and when the Samaritan saw him, he was moved with compassion. 34 The Samaritan went to the man and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then the Samaritan put the man on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. 35 The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, ‘Take care of this man; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.’ 36 Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” 37 The lawyer said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to the lawyer, “Go and do likewise.”

 

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Please pray with me this morning, church:

God who is our salvation,

We call out to you in our distress and you find us.

You seek us out and pull us out of our despair and hurt.

Make us bold and courageous to extend those same hands

Of compassion and care to those who are in need.

Help us to be neighbors, and make us mindful

Of the help and saving being offered to us from others.

Amen.

 

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It’s been way too hot recently to do much of this, but up until a few weeks ago, one of our favorite things to do in the afternoon was to go to the park. We still like to go to the park, we just have to get it out of the way early in the day. And recently, Oliver’s been wondering aloud a new question, “Dad, these are our neighbors? This is our neighborhood?”

“Yep, this is our neighborhood and these are our neighbors.”

 

Last month when we were at my parents house for a few days, we were walking to the park by their house, and then came not a question but an exclamation, “Wow! Grammie and Gramps have lots of neighbors!”

“Yep. Grammie and Gramps have lots of neighbors.”

 

Who’s your neighbor, church?

Do you have lots of neighbors? Or just a few neighbors?

 

I’ve recently started trying to get to know our neighbors better. Now, I’m an extrovert, so in some ways, the conversations come pretty naturally for me. But with all the craziness in our world right now, I’m kind of doubling-down on this idea that one of the ways to overcome the division and hatred and violence in our world is to just get to know our neighbors more. And I figured I should just, like, practice what I preach.

Having good relationships with your neighbors can go a long way, too, especially in times of distress or need. Maybe you’ll recall a few years ago during Hurricane Harvey, I bet you were checking in on your neighbors, making sure they had what they needed. Maybe they did the same for you. Or during the February freeze last year.

Having and being a good neighbor is invaluable.

 

So do you have lots of neighbors, church? Or just a few?

A different question—who’s not your neighbor?

 

A lawyer gets up to test Jesus—more like a scholar in Jewish law, in Torah, less of a lawyer in the legal sense that we think about—this person knows their Scripture, and the lawyer isn’t really asking for clarification, this is an adversarial encounter. The Torah scholar wants to know who Jesus is, where Jesus stands…”Which school do you belong to? How do you, Jesus, interpret Torah?”

“Rabbi, what must I do to obtain a full life?” So notice, this is not a question about a life that never ends, the idea of a never ending life is not a Jewish idea…it’s not really a Christian idea either, at least in the biblical sense, but that’s for another time…this is about a quality of life, a fullness of life now, in the present. “How can I enjoy a richness and a fullness of life now?”

“Well, what’s written in Torah? How do you read what’s written there?” Jesus replies.

“Love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your strength, and all your mind. And love your neighbor as yourself.” The first part from Deuteronomy, the second part from Leviticus.

“Great,” says Jesus, “go and do that.”

“Yes, but who is my neighbor?” comes the reply. I told you…this is adversarial.

So Jesus answers these antagonistic questions with a story. Classic Jesus…

 

Jesus tells a story about a person, likely Hebrew, traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho, who is attacked and left for dead. And all the people who you would think would stop and help pass on by. The nice, upstanding religious folks keep to themselves and pretend not to notice their neighbor in need. But the Samaritan is the one who stops to render aid. And not only does the Samaritan stop and literally and figuratively stop the bleeding, but the Samaritan takes care of this person’s immediate needs, loads them up on the Samaritan’s own transportation, takes them to the next town and shells out 2 denarii, enough to prepay this person’s lodging for 2 months, and also prepays their medical bills. This is absurdly extravagant generosity.

But most striking, and certainly most controversial, wasn’t the generosity of the Samaritan…it was the fact that in Jesus’ story, it was the Samaritan who did these things. For those who remember such things, or those playing along at home, recall from the gospel of John, that Jewish people do not share things in common with Samaritans. In fact, they were enemies. More like mortal enemies. Hebrew people and Samaritans hated each other. They were culturally, ethnically, racially, religiously, socially…every possible dividing line you could think of, they were on opposite sides of that spectrum. Hebrew people and Samaritans hated each other. And so the fact that it was the Samaritan who stopped and who did these things, the fact that it was the Samaritan who was the hero in Jesus’ story is shocking and scandalous of the highest order. Those who were hearing this story were incensed that it was their enemy who was the hero of Jesus’ story.

 

Who’s not your neighbor, church?

 

Like so many of Jesus’ teachings, this one, too, is scandalous. It’s the Hebrew, the Jewish person, who is attacked and robbed and left for dead. It’s the good upstanding religious folks who pass by their sibling in need. It’s the enemy of one who was attacked that stops to give aid. And similar to so many of Jesus’ teachings, the Samaritans are the oppressed group in this power dynamic. Jesus is always lifting up the sacred worth of oppressed peoples. Samaritans were impoverished compared the wealthy city folks in Jerusalem. Samaritans had been oppressed for many years, by the Hebrews and by Rome. The hero in Jesus’ story is the unlikely one, the oppressed one, the one from the margins.

So often, church, we’ve heard this story of the compassionate Samaritan and imagined ourselves as the one who stops to help. Monica Perin forwarded an article to me last week from a couple of years ago that said that the Christian church in the United States suffers from a bad case of “Disney princess theology.” We have a bad habit of placing ourselves in the place of the oppressed groups. We love to imagine that we’re the ones swooping in to help. We’re the saviors. We’re always the heroes and sheroes and they-roes in the stories. “Well, that’s what good Christians do, they stop to help out.” Yes, truly, but in Jesus’ story that’s not how it went. Church, in the power dynamic, we western Christians who live in the United States are the powerful ones. We’re the ones with the wealth and power worth being robbed of. We’re the ones in the ditch, figuratively and literally. We’re the ones in need of saving. Like, most of all, from ourselves. At best, we’re the upstanding religious folks passing by on the other side.

 

Can you see, church…within someone you despise…the capacity to save your life?

Can you see your enemy as having the capability and capacity of saving you?

Would you let your enemy save you?

 

Interestingly, in Hebrew the words for “neighbor” and “enemy” aren’t that different. Leviticus 19:18 is where we first see written that ubiquitous teaching, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Every major world religion has a version of this teaching in their sacred texts, by the way. Amy Jill-Levine, professor at Vanderbilt Divinity, notes that the Hebrew word translated as “neighbor” in Leviticus 19:18 is re’a (“one who dwells nearby”). And it uses the same consonants as the Hebrew word for “enemy”—ish’ra. And in the original texts, as some of you know, the vowels are not present. So is the command to love your neighbor as yourself? Or is it to love your enemy as yourself?

Who’s not your neighbor, church?

In other words, as Amy Jill-Levine says, “When Jesus asks the lawyer, ‘What do you read there (in Torah)?’ Jesus is asking, ‘Are you able to see, in Torah’s words, the command to love both neighbor and those you would see as enemies?”

 

Can you imagine your enemy, someone you despise, as possessing the capability and the capacity of saving you? Maybe not your enemy, but what about that person that you really just can’t stand? What about the person who just does something to you that you can’t explain, but they make you feel like a not great version of yourself? Can you imagine them as being the one to save you?

 

It’s a difficult teaching, and a convicting one. Certainly for me.

I don’t know if I want to be able to see my enemy or the person who annoys me or someone who I really dislike as the source of my saving. A lot of times I prefer having someone or something I dislike or despise, because at least then, I have someone else outside myself to blame when things don’t go the way i want. We love a good bad guy. Because then we have someone we can project all kinds of wrongs upon.

But do you have the capacity to love that person? Can you imagine that person saving you?

 

Psalm 116 this morning reminds us that our saving comes from outside ourselves.

We do not save ourselves. Contrary to everything you’ve ever been taught.

We are a people in need of saving. And dear church, you do not…and you can not…save yourself.

It is God who saves.

The one who has inclined her ear to your cries for help. The one who is life. The one who loves deeply. The one who is faithful. The one who delivers you from death.

And so very often our saving comes from God through the gracious, loving, compassion, and kindness of our neighbors. Those you know well. And those you don’t know well yet. Those you might even consider to be enemies.

 

Keep your eyes open, church.

You never know when someone might be saving you.

Even someone you least expect.

And keep your eyes open for opportunities to offer that same kindness and compassion to someone else.

We could all use some more neighbors.

 

Fourth Sunday After Pentecost

Luke 10:1-11, 16-20

1 After this the Lord appointed seventy others and sent them on ahead of him in pairs to every town and place where he himself intended to go. 2 Jesus said to them, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers for the harvesting. 3 Go on your way. See, I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. 4 Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals; and greet no one on the road. 5 Whatever house you enter, first say, ‘Peace to this house!’ 6 And if anyone is there who shares in peace, your peace will rest on that person; but if not, it will return to you. 7 Remain in the same house, eating and drinking whatever they provide, for the laborer deserves to be paid. Do not move about from house to house. 8 Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you; 9 cure the sick who are there, and say to them, ‘The reign of God has come near.’ 10 But whenever you enter a town and they do not welcome you, go out into its streets and say, 11 ‘Even the dust of your town that clings to our feet, we wipe off in protest against you. Yet know this: the reign of God has come near.’ 16 “Whoever listens to you listens to me, and whoever rejects you rejects me, and whoever rejects me rejects the one who sent me.”

17 The seventy returned with joy, saying, “Lord, in your name even the evil spirits submit to us!”

18 Jesus said to them, “I watched the Accuser fall from heaven like a flash of lightning. 19 See, I have given you authority to tread on snakes and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy; and nothing will hurt you. 20 Nevertheless, do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”

 

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Please pray with me this morning, church:

God of peace,

In the midst of a world that feels like a lot recently,

You call us and send us out into the harvest.

Give us courage as we go,

And a willingness and boldness to share our story.

A story of wonderful love, incredible grace, and fervent hope.

A story about you.

Amen.

 

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Whenever we leave for any kind of trip, whether a long extended vacation like I just got back from or even just a weekend away, I always go through the same ritual. I’m usually the last one out the door because I’m always late; and our cat, Piper is usually in her tower by the fireplace watching everyone rush out the door and looking at us with judging eyes, as cats do; and I always walk by her scratch her head and say, “No parties. Or at least if you do, just clean up after yourself.”

And it always works. We always come home to a house just as we left it, maybe a hairball or two or a pile of vomit, just to let us know who’s actually the boss. But in 11 years, I haven’t had to clean up a single red solo cup or a game of kitty beer pong left set up on the kitchen counter.

Things tend to be just as we left them.

 

I am very glad to say that things are mostly just as left them here, too, church. Truly, such is the mark of an incredibly capable and gifted Staff. And my thanks to Pastor Janelle for covering for me, to Danny, Jessica, Jeffery last week and Hsiao-Lan this week, Wanda, and Aimee, as well as our Council and everyone who helps out with worship and everything else. Thank you for the time away, it was very refreshing for me, and I am truly able to rest because I know New Hope rests in such lovingly capable hands that are not my own. So thank you, and I am grateful.

But not only are things mostly just as I left them, things are actually much much better since I’ve been away. The Community Center is almost all the way done, we have new locks on all our doors, a brand new Conference Room in the Community Center, brand new doors on the Community Center and the Sanctuary…y’all have been busy!

It all looks really really good.

 

Things are much better here at New Hope than when I left.

Things in our country and elsewhere…? Ehhh…… Debatable… Maybe we’ll work on that next time.

 

It’s been a wild few weeks…amen, church?

Lots of folks are scared. Lots of folks are despairing. Some folks are rejoicing. Some of us don’t really know what to think. Some of us are feeling a whole lot of different things.

And it’s all ok. And it’s all holy.

 

But if you’re feeling overwhelmed. If you’re feeling sad or hopeless or despairing…particularly if you’re feeling sad or hopeless or despairing…I want you to pay close attention real quick. Because one of the real gifts, I think, of our Lutheran understanding is that we view the Gospel—God’s good news of restoration and wholeness and liberation—as Lutherans, we say that, yes, that good news is for all people, but it is especially for those moments in our lives when we are sad or hopeless or despairing. A Lutheran understanding of the Gospel doesn’t shy away from the hurt and the pain in our world. Quite the opposite, Lutherans acknowledge that hurt and pain and say that God is most especially made known in those moments. Lutherans say those are pretty well universally felt, right? We all have times and seasons in our life where hurt and pain and discomfort and dis-ease and anger and hopelessness are very present and very real. This is simply part of what it means to be human in a very broken world.

But God has something to say in those moments.

God is not indifferent to the suffering of God’s people.

 

What I’m saying is that a very Lutheran understanding of the Gospel says that God’s good news of liberation and restoration and wholeness is most powerfully felt and experienced when we are feeling at our least, when we are feeling hopeless, when we are feeling hurt and broken and shattered.

That’s a real gift, I think.

So if that’s you today, I want you to hear me for the next couple of minutes.

 

Psalm 146

1 Hallelujah! Praise the Ageless One, O my soul! 

2 I will praise the Ever-living God all my life; 

I will sing praises to my God throughout my living 

3 Put not your trust in the great, nor in any child of earth, 

for there is no help in them. 

4 When they breathe their last, they return to earth, 

And in that day their thoughts perish. 

5 Happy are these for whom the God of Rebekah’s line is their help, 

Whose hope is in the Creator of All, their God. 

6 Maker of heaven and earth, the seas, and all that is in them;  

Keeping faith forever. 

7 Bringer of justice to the oppressed, 

Bringer of bread to the hungry;  

The Compassionate God sets the prisoners free. 

8 The All-Seeing God opens the eyes of the blind, 

The Just God lifts up those who are bowed down; 

The Righteous God loves the righteous. 

9 The Mother of All cares for the stranger,

Orphan and widow she bears up,

But the way of the wicked she confounds. 

10 The Majestic One shall reign forever, 

Your God, O Zion, from generation to generation. Hallelujah!

 

Don’t put your trust in people who claim to be great. There is no help for you in them. When they breathe their last, they return to the dust, just like everyone else, and their thoughts and their wickedness and their evil and their attempts to exert power and control all die with them. Happy are those who trust in God, the God of Rebekah, the Creator, the One who laid the foundations of the earth, the One who brings justice to the oppressed and food to those who hunger, who liberates those in captivity, who heals the sick, lifts up the lowly, cares for the immigrant, upholds the vulnerable and marginalized. She disrupts the ways of the evil and wicked ones. She shall reign forever and ever.

Amen. And Alleluia.

 

I’m so thrilled to be using these Psalms for the Summer, these translations from the Reverend Doctor Wil Gafney out of Brite Divinity in Fort Worth. I’m so grateful to Pastor Janelle for suggesting this and for putting these together. And I’m going to try and preach from the Psalms these next few weeks and see how it goes. It’s a bit of a new challenge for me, but one that I kind of also love because I think we have an opportunity to hear some new words in new ways, words we might not have heard before or might not have paid much attention to.

These are part of our story, too.

 

I’m going to steal a line from our Presiding Bishop Elizabeth Eaton, the Presiding Bishop of the ELCA, she preached at our Synod Assembly about 6 weeks ago, she said, “We have a better story.”

The world tells us one thing, the world and the powers that be, very often leave us feeling sad or hopeless or despairing, the world often tells us a story of hurt and pain and divisiveness and wickedness and evil…we have a better story.

Not that those things aren’t true, at some level…but we have a better story.

 

And friends, it is a story that the world needs to hear. There are those who aren’t here this morning who need to hear. There are those you know in your life and in your circles who need to hear. There are those who aren’t here yet…who need to hear.

And friends, you are the ones to tell them. You are the ones sent out. You are the seventy. You are the ones entrusted and called and equipped and sent out to tell this story.

 

It’s interesting that on a weekend when we remember and celebrate the independence of this country, that we hear a gospel story about co-dependence, about being sent out together, about having to rely on one another and to rely on the hospitality of others. Over and over and over again, the Christian narrative is one of reliance and dependence on God, and interdependence on your neighbor and on the stranger. There is no independence in the life of a Christian. Your life is not your own. Your life is claimed by God for God’s purposes, for the sake and for the well-being of your neighbor, the stranger, the outcast, the immigrant, the vulnerable, the have-nots, and those that the world sees as less than…the hurting, the despairing, and the broken.

These are the ones who need to hear this story, and this is the story that you are called to share, dear siblings.

 

And the thing I probably take the most comfort in in all of this is that these 70 didn’t have special training. They got a pep talk from Jesus, but they didn’t have a crash course in Evangelism 101 from Jesus. Jesus called them together, said, “Don’t take anything with you,” and sent them out. That’s it. No special training required. Go out and share your story. All they had was a call, instructions to share peace and show and receive hospitality, and to announce the imminence of the reign of God. That’s it.

 

No special training required, church. I promise you.

You already have everything you need.

Only a willingness to share your story.

To share where God has moved powerfully in your life.

A word about a time when you were hurting or despairing or broken, and someone showed you kindness.

A word about when you felt seen and found by God.

About when God didn’t leave you just like God found you.

A word about when you felt loved back to life by God.

What a story worth sharing.

 

Pentecost 2022

John 14:8-17, 25-27

8 Philip said to Jesus, “Lord, show us God, and we will be satisfied.” 9 Jesus said to Philip, “Have I been with you all this time, Philip, and you still do not know me? Whoever has seen me has seen God. How can you say, ‘Show us God’? 10 Do you not believe that I am in God and God is in me? The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own; but it is God who dwells in me who does these works. 11 Have faith in me that I am in God and God is in me; but if you do not, then have faith in me because of the works themselves. 12 Very truly, I tell you, the one who trusts in me will also do the works that I do and, in fact, will do greater works than these, because I am going to God. 13 I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that God may be glorified in the Son. 14 If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it.

15 “If you love me, you will keep my commandments. 16 And I will ask God, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. 17 This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees nor knows that Spirit. You know that Spirit, because that Spirit abides with you, and will be in you.

25 “I have said these things to you while I am still with you. 26 But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom God will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you. 27 Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”

 

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Please pray with me this morning, church:

Holy Spirit,

Move in this place.

Stir our hearts, rouse us from complacency.

Settle over us with your comfort and peace.

Move in us, again, this morning.

Call us, enlighten us, and move us.

Amen.

 

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I want to start by saying thank you, church. Last week was a difficult week. For all of us. No one wants to see and experience what we collectively went through last week. But if we are to be stirred in our hearts and in our spirits to create meaningful change in our world, we must be honest about the brokenness, hurt, and pain in our world, we must be willing to look at and not look away from that hurt. It is by beholding the wounds of our siblings and honoring their hurt that our own hearts are broken open for the Spirit to do their work in stirring and rousing us to action.

 

So thank you. I know it wasn’t easy, and I pray it never becomes easy for us. But I do hope and pray fervently for the day when sermons like last week’s, and prayers and litanies for victims of gun violence are no longer needed.

 

In the liturgical wisdom of the early church mothers and fathers, the Day of Pentecost comes 10 days after the Feast of the Ascension, 50 days after the celebration of Christ’s resurrection. After Jesus is taken away from the disciples, their instructions are to return to Jerusalem and wait for the arrival of the Holy Spirit, which indeed does arrive as we heard in our readings this morning. This is the beginning of the church movement, the beginning of the ministry instituted by Jesus that begins from Jerusalem and then spreads into Judea and Syria and the surrounding areas, and then through the mission and ministry of the earliest apostles—Peter, Paul, Silas, Tabitha, Thomas, Apollos, Lydia, and so many others—the church spreads beyond that, into modern-day Turkey, Iraq, Egypt, Greece, and even into Italy and Rome. And the Holy Spirit is the driving force of this movement.

 

I’ve found it helpful to try and understand the Holy Spirit as that which moves me, that which propels me, in the work of discipleship that I’ve been called to by God through my baptism.

Once more…for me, I’ve found it helpful to try and understand the Holy Spirit as that which moves me, that which propels me, in the work of discipleship that I’ve been called to by God through my baptism.

The Holy Spirit is an active, moving force. It inspires, it enlightens, it mediates between people. It’s the Holy Spirit that draws God’s people together, and is active in their midst, mediating their conversations and discernment, and ultimately propelling them out into the world to be the people God has called them to be through their baptism.

 

I lament that we don’t have more days celebrating this movement and the activity of this holy troublemaker. Because let’s be honest…the Spirit…she can be a troublemaker…

We set apart this Day of Pentecost with our red paraments—which, it should be noted, are different than our scarlet paraments that we use for Holy Week—and I suppose I’m grateful that, at least in the Lutheran tradition, we also bring out these same red paraments for Reformation Sunday in October, but I lament that we only get 2 Sundays of red paraments because it means I only get 2 Sundays to wear my red stole. And I love my red stole because it was gifted to me at my ordination, as are most pastors’ red stoles, and I would just like to wear it more often. So if the liturgical powers that be would get to work on that, I’d be appreciative.

But it does strike me as highly appropriate to so closely align the Reformation with Pentecost because the Reformation, too, was and is about the movement of the Spirit among communities, the drawing together of God’s people, and the spread of the Gospel message throughout and beyond Germany and Europe. The Reformation was about finding something central and true amidst a wide diversity of expression within the church.

 

Pentecost, too, I think, is about something central, true, and universal in the midst of great diversity. Like we heard in our reading from Acts, the Spirit loves diversity, the Spirit births diversity. Can we see and view and honor that diversity in our faith communities as a gift and something to be celebrated, rather than something to be overcome or argued about, or at worst, glossed over and assimilated?

 

“All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages as the Spirit gave them ability.”

What “other languages” has God given New Hope to speak? Think beyond the wide diversity of spoken languages you’ve heard already heard and will hear this morning. Hasn’t God given New Hope the gifts of language, or the ability to speak the language, from other communities as well—the gay and lesbian community, the trans* community, the queer and questioning community, the LGBTQIA2+ community broadly…(Happy Pride, by the way, beloveds)…communities of color, the African descent community, the Latino community, the South American community, the community of South Asian descent…the neurodivergent community, those in the communities of mental illness, the community of parents, grandparents, the community of parents who struggle with infertility…divorced folks, single folks, the cancer community, the alcoholic community, the recovery community—we have so many gifts, so many different languages that are spoken here, beyond just spoken languages.

 

I think the question of Pentecost is how to honor all of those gifts, how to lift them up and celebrate them. Can we see our giftedness as cause and reason for celebration and excitement and something to be witnessed to and something to invite others to experience?

 

The Spirit of Pentecost is one of witness and testimony and invitation. The Spirit gave the disciples the ability to say something true about God…something true about what they had experienced in the life, ministry, death, and resurrection of Jesus…gave the disciples a way to speak and witness and testify to that truth in a way that others could hear it and receive it.

 

“We hear all of them in our own languages. We hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.”

What has God done in your life, church? How has God blessed and enriched your life and your family’s life as a result of experiencing the giftedness of New Hope?

 

This same Spirit of truth and love and equality and justice is alive and active and moving in this place. Where do you see the Spirit at work? How will you witness to what you’ve seen and experienced?

 

The Spirit moves and invites you to extend the invitation.

An incredibly overwhelming majority of people visit a church and a community of faith because someone they know, someone the trust, someone they have a relationship with invited them. Even if they’ve already got a worshiping community they’re a part of, most folks will take you up on the invitation to join them. (Especially if you tell them that you’ll take them out for brunch afterward…)

 

The Spirit loves diversity.

The Spirit births diversity.

Your beautifully designed, colorful tapestry, rainbow of diversity is a gift.

To me. To the church.

And to God.

Listen and look for the Spirit, church.

She’s moving. They’re moving. Mightily.

 

The Ascension of Our Lord 2022

Luke 24:44-53

44 [Jesus said,] “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you—that everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled.” 45 Then Jesus opened the disciples’ minds to understand the scriptures, 46 and said to them, “Thus it is written, that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, 47 and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. 48 You are witnesses of these things. 49 And see, I am sending upon you the Spirit, that God promised; so stay here in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high.”

50 Then Jesus led them out as far as Bethany, and, lifting up his hands, he blessed them. 51 While he was blessing them, he withdrew from them and was carried up into the heavens. 52 And the disciples worshiped Jesus, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy; 53 and they were continually in the temple blessing God.

 

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Please pray with me this morning, church:

Holy and mighty God,

Sometimes our sighs are too deep for words.

Thank you for your Spirit,

Who intercedes on our behalf,

When we are unable to even muster a prayer.

Hold us tightly, God.

Amen.

 

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*sigh*……

I’m so tired, church… So tired…

Aren’t you? In the words of Viola Davis, playing Aibileen Clark in Kathryn Stockett and Tate Taylor’s seminal film The Help, “Ain’t you tired…?”

 

Yes… Bone tired… Down to my soul tired… Worn, weary, crushed…tired…

Aren’t you…?

 

The last time I brought out these candles was 4 years ago, May 20, 2018, Pentecost Sunday that year, after a 17-year-old brought a shotgun to Santa Fe High School and murdered 8 classmates and 2 teachers. And now, just over 4 years later, here we are again, with countless murders, mass shootings and otherwise, in between. Just 2 years after the murder of George Floyd. The massacre in Uvalde happening just 10 days since a horrific racially-motivated, white supremacist rampage in Buffalo took the lives of 10 others. But did you know, church, that in those intervening 10 days, in the 10 days in between Buffalo and Uvalde that 15 other mass shootings occurred in this country, according to gunviolencearchive.org…? 15…!

 

Ain’t you tired…?

Hell yes, I am! I ran out of candles! I ran out of places to put them! That’s obscene!

 

The prayers that we used at the beginning of worship come from a Prayer of Lament for Gun Violence from our newest worship resource from our denomination, the ELCA, called All Creation Sings. Hear that again…there’s a litany of prayers, in a denominational resource, the largest Lutheran denomination and one of the largest Christian denominations in the United States, there’s a litany of prayers for victims of gun violence! Please let that sink in! That is obscene!

 

How are we ok with this?

Every single time we want to say, “This is just not who we are.” when I am very sorry to tell you, church, it very clearly is. It is exactly who we are. It may not be who we want to be, or who we hope to be, but I’m devastated to tell you that it is exactly who we are.

We have accepted it.

 

Because if it wasn’t who we are, if we hadn’t accepted this, we would do something to change it.

 

But we don’t. So we offer “thoughts and prayers” and we ask questions to the wind and to no one in particular like “How could this happen again?” and in less than a week something new will overtake our news feeds and we’ll move on just like we have for over 20 years since Columbine High School.

 

But there are those who can’t move on. There are those who are too close to these endless tragedies that can’t simply move past it. We must be aware that every single one of these instances leaves a devastating wake of communities, neighborhoods, schools, families, and people.

Every single one of these massacres leaves a wake of destruction.

 

I ran out of candles to tell you about Ms. Katherine Massey, 72, who was a civil rights activist who called for stricter gun laws in Buffalo.

I ran out of candles to tell you about Andre Mackniel, 53, who was at the grocery store picking up a birthday cake for his 3-year-old son…who wouldn’t make it home for his son’s birthday party.

I ran out of candles to tell you about Ms. Ruth Whitfield, 86, who lived in Buffalo for more than 50 years and loved to sing in her church’s choir.

To tell you about Roberta Drury, 32, who was a caretaker for her brother and was buying groceries for them.

About Eva Mireles, 44, who taught in Uvalde schools for 17 years and used her body to try and protect her students.

About Irma Garcia, 46, who taught at Robb Elementary for 23 years, co-taught with Ms. Eva for 5 years, and whose husband of 24 years, Joe, died of a severe heart attack just 2 days later. They had 4 children.

Xavier Lopez, 10, who had just found out he made the honor roll.

Amerie Jo Garcia, 10, who just celebrated her birthday and gotten a phone she wanted, and tried to use that phone to call for help.

Lexi Rubio, 10, who made the All-A Honor Roll and received a good citizen award.

Tess Marie Mata, 10, who had been saving her money for Disney World and who loved doing TikTok dances.

 

Babies… Educators… Mamas… Daddies… Grandparents… Hermanos… Hermanas… Primos y primas…

 

Ain’t you tired, church…?

 

Of course you are. We all are.

 

It’s not part of the lectionary readings for today, but they are some of the most potent words in Scripture, from the prophet Amos, chapter 5: “Thus says the Lord, I hate—I despise—your festivals. Your worship is worthless. Even though you bring me offerings, I reject them. I refuse to listen to your songs and music. But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.”

God desires oceans of justice and raging rivers of righteousness. And the best we can do is offer thoughts and prayers?!

 

We can and should be sad. We can and should lament. Sorrow is holy.

But we must not remain in despair. We cannot stay in our sorrow. Because if we remain in that despairing place, we are incapacitated to do the work to which we are called. Pray and then act. This is the work to which you are called: the holy work of healing, of binding up the wounds of the broken, of repairing that which has been torn, and delivering love and mercy to those most in need of it. God desires justice. God desires righteousness. God desires so much more than thoughts and prayers.

 

The Sunday of the Feast of the Ascension is the time in the church that we commemorate Jesus leaving the disciples. The day always happens 40 days after Easter. And for those who are paying attention, 40 is an important number, biblically speaking. 40 days of rain and flood. 40 days in the desert being tempted by the Accuser. 40 years journeying in the desert, traveling from slavery toward freedom. 40 is a good, long time. 40 is the amount of time it takes, biblically, to arrive at the moment you throw your hands up and cry, “Enough!” 40 is the time it takes to be done.

Ain’t you tired, church…? Haven’t you had enough? Of course you are. Of course you have.

 

In some ways, Jesus has had enough, too. He’s spent time with the disciples, he’s taught them things again that he’d already taught them. He’s been with them, but now it is time for Jesus to go. Because if Jesus doesn’t go the book of Acts doesn’t happen. Acts is a continuation of the Gospel of Luke, written by the same person or group of people, and there’s a reason it is called the Acts of the Apostles. This is the disciples getting on with the work—with the acts—of being the church. And if Jesus doesn’t go, they, and we, might be tempted to cling tightly to what we know, stay where we think it’s safe, and not get on with the work and the acts of being the church.

Jesus is tired… But if Jesus doesn’t go, the church doesn’t spread. If Jesus doesn’t go, the work of the church can’t begin.

 

“You Galileans, why do you stand looking up toward heaven?”

Church, why do we stand looking up toward heaven? What exactly are we waiting around for? Are we waiting for someone else? Waiting for Jesus to come back triumphantly in the same way in which he was taken?

 

Church, I have good news and bad news… The bad news is that Jesus isn’t coming back in the same way in which he ascended. The bad news is that no one else is coming to bail us out of this mess. The bad news…is that you are the ones God has called in this time and in this place to do the work of mending this horribly broken world. The good news…is that you are the ones that God has called in this time and in this place to do the work of mending this horribly broken world.

And the good news…is that you do not do this work on your own.

 

God has given you the Holy Spirit. You have been clothed with power. And God has given you one another. You do not do this work on your own. But you are called to do this work.

There is no one else. You are the ones.

 

Why do you stand looking up toward heaven? Look out. Look at your neighbor. Look at the kids across the street. Look at the people in your cul-de-sac. Look at the people in line at the grocery store with you. Look at the babies out at the restaurant with you. These are who you are called to, church.

Justice. Righteousness.

Our legislators will not save us. The people that we elected to represent us and make and pass laws to protect us and our babies have abdicated their responsibility. This is on us.

 

I’m so so sorry to tell you that help is not coming. But we do have what we need for this fight.

We do have the good news of God’s vision for the world, God’s hopes and dreams of a restored and whole and well earth. You have been given the Holy Spirit. You have been clothed with power.

And we have each other.

 

Of course you’re tired. I am, too.

Rest when you need to rest.

But do not stay at rest.

 

This fight is a holy and righteous one and the forces that would seek to deny life to God’s people can not stand against you when we stand shoulder to shoulder.

You have been blessed. You have been called.

You have been strengthened and nourished.

You have been blessed.

You have been anointed for this fight.

 

And you will prevail.

You will be victorious.

We must win. We must.

 

And we will.

 

We will because our kids are begging us to.

We will because our babies demand that we do.

We will because this is the promise of the resurrection. That death does not win. Death does not get the last word. God has promised life and life abundant, and you are the vessels and the messengers through which God is working and redeeming the world.

This is the work of the church.

Rejoice, people of God.

This is the work to which God has called you.

This is the work for which you have been clothed with power and blessed and anointed

Go and do likewise.

 

If you’re wondering where to start, if you look at all that’s happening and think, “There’s just no way I can effect any meaningful change.” I invite you to start with a prayer. Pray and beseech God that God would break open your heart and cause your heart to break for that which breaks God’s heart. Pray that God would give you the same eyes of love, tenderness, and compassion with which God looks upon the world. And then I invite you to start. Start somewhere. Start small. But start.

As a bit of Rabbinical wisdom goes, “Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world’s grief. Do justly, now. Love mercy, now. Walk humbly, now. You are not obligated to complete the work. But neither are you free to abandon it.” Or a Mother Teresa reminds us, “Not everyone can do great things, but we can do small things with great love.”

Start. Somewhere.

 

If you can find one hour a week in your schedule, I’d love to introduce you to some of our friends at Armstrong. Reading buddies, mentors, teachers’ aides… Young people having positive influences in their lives is the single biggest influencing factor in them being successful in their education and not growing up resorting to violence to solve their problems. That’s not made up, that’s research-backed.

Look, this is convicting for me, too. I haven’t made the time this year to volunteer. Will you join me? Will you commit with me to signing up to volunteer just one hour a week next year as a Reading Buddy or a Mentor at Armstrong? And will you hold me accountable?

 

We can effect change in our world, church.

We can and we will because we must.

Be of good courage, people of God. Do not be frozen in place by this enormous task.

Pray, and then act.

The crucified, risen, and ascended Christ has empowered, blessed, and anointed you for this work, and joins you in this fight.

Death does not get the last word, praise God.

Take heart. Hold fast to faith.

This is the hope to which you have been called.

God’s resurrection promise for a weary and downtrodden world.

Alleluia.

Amen.

 

Fifth Sunday of Easter 2022

John 13:31-35

31 When Judas had gone out from the room, Jesus said, “Now the Son of humanity has been glorified, and God has been glorified in the Son. 32 If God has been glorified in the Son, God will also glorify the Son in God’s own self and will glorify the Son at once. 33 Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me; and as I said to the Jewish believers so now I say to you, ‘Where I am going, you cannot come.’ 34 I give you a new commandment so that you love one another. As I have loved you in order that you also love one another. 35 By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

 

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Please pray with me this morning, church:

God of love,

Love us back to life again this morning.

Call us again and lead us by your example.

Show us the breadth and depth of your love.

Give us courage to live out that love

In our lives and in our world.

Amen.

 

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It’s been a tough few weeks at the Michaelis house. Well, honestly, it’s been a tough few months, but it all kind of runs together, and eh, who’s really counting and keeping score, right?

One of the, shall we say, “blessings” of having a pandemic child, or at least a child who’s lived more of their life within than out of a global pandemic, is that the germs and stuff around your house largely don’t change. So when they start going to preschool and interacting with other kids and other houses’ germs…well…it does a number on their immune system. Throw in an oppressively bad spring allergy season, and the conditions are ripe for a sickness that just won’t end.

 

And when the 2-, almost 3-, year old isn’t happy…ain’t no one happy.

 

Now, full credit to my spouse who is apparently the only one who can do literally anything that the toddler will approve of…but, as I said, ain’t no one happy right now at our house.

Such is life, for this season.

 

It reminds me of something that I heard from a good friend and mentor that I usually fit in somewhere to most wedding sermons I’ve done: “Marriage isn’t something you do when you’re in love; marriage is what keeps you together until you fall in love again.”

In times of particular strife in our household, usually onset by a severe lack of sleep, when I find myself having less than charitable thoughts and being less than kind toward my spouse and our kid, I need to be reminded of the promises we made to each other, and the promises I made to her, that help sort of bring me back to a centered place, a place where my emotions and feelings and knee-jerk reactions and flat-out jerk reactions can level out, and I can remember that even in the “worse” parts of “for better or worse”, my commitment to those promises and this person has to be greater than my very strong desire for a couple more hours of sleep.

Although honestly, the two can run fairly close to each other, you know?

 

I say all this because in our gospel this morning, Jesus has some very particular words to say about love. And marriage is one of, though by no means, the only, place where love gets lived out in relationship.

 

Remember that we just heard these words from Jesus about a month ago on Maundy Thursday. Just before our gospel reading today picks up, Jesus gets up from dinner, ties a towel around his waist, and washes his disciples’ feet. A humbling act of love and tenderness and service, when a teacher and Rabbi and master submits themselves to their students and servants and friends.

 

Now, a couple of weeks ago, when Peter and some other disciples were fishing, and Jesus was cooking brunch on the beach, and Jesus asks Peter three times if Peter loves him…you remember this? I mentioned in that sermon to ask me some time about the differences in the words Jesus uses for love and the word Peter uses for love. Because, I said, that sermon was not about this, but this one kind of is, so permit me to get a little nerdy on you for a second.

Back a couple of weeks ago, after brunch, Jesus asks Peter, “Do you have agape love for me?” And Peter responds to Jesus, “Yes Lord, you know I have philia love for you.” Jesus says, “Feed my lambs.” A second time, Jesus says to Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you have agape love for me?” Peter responds, “Yeah Lord, you know I’ve got philia love for you.” Jesus says, “Tend my sheep.” A third time, Jesus asks Peter, “Peter, son of John, do you even have philia love for me?” And Peter, now quite upset since Jesus asked him a third time, “Do you love me?” responds, “Lord, you know…everything…you know I have…philia love for you…?” Jesus says to Peter, “Feed my sheep.”

 

On the surface, and certainly in English translations, this doesn’t sound like much of an encounter. As I said 2 weeks ago, I think the author of John is using poetic devices to have Peter respond to Jesus’ questions 3 times to mirror or account for the 3 times that Peter denies Jesus in the courtyard of the high priest on the night of Jesus’ betrayal. But the differences in the words used for “love” is important here.

See, the Greeks had 4 different words that they used, all to describe love. C.S. Lewis has a pretty good treatment of all of these in his book The Four Loves. It’s not perfect, but it’s pretty good. The 4 types of Greek love are storge, eros, philia, and agape. There’s not so much a hierarchy as it is they all describe different aspects of love. The exception to this would be agape which is seen as kind of the highest form of love, certainly and especially for Christians.

Storge is empathy. It’s the kind of love between family members and friends and neighbors. It’s a form of love that comes more naturally for us; it’s affection, but it’s pitfall, as Lewis saw it, is that people come to expect it irrespective of their behavior and its natural consequences.

Eros is romantic love. You could have guessed that. It’s where we get our word “erotic.” It’s passion, sometimes sexual in nature, but it can be blinding, making us act in ways that would otherwise be very out of character for us.

Philia is strong friend love, brotherly/sisterly/sibling-type love—philia actually means “brother” or “sibling” in Greek. This is probably the least natural type of love for us because it’s not instinctive—you choose your close friends. Philia was very well known and prized in the ancient world, and Lewis saw it as all but being forgotten in our modern times.

Agape, as you might know, is God love. Perfect love. It’s completely unconditional. It’s selfless. Completely. The Greeks and Lewis largely saw it as unattainable by humans.

 

Jesus asks Peter if Peter has agape love for him. Peter responds with, “Of course, Lord, you know I have philia love for you.”

For whatever reason, Peter couldn’t get all the way to where Jesus was in this expression of love.

 

I think we, like Peter, aspire to our Lord’s example and hope of embodying agape love in our lives…but imperfect beings that we are, we seem to always come up short of the mark.

 

In my best ideals about myself, I want to believe that the love I have for even my sick kid who upsets me when I just want to sleep or my spouse who gets annoyed when she, too, just wants to sleep is unconditional. I aspire for it to be, I want it to be. I don’t know that it is always.

 

Because the thing about agape love is that it is sacrificial.

There’s another line I include in almost every wedding sermon, and I said it in my sermon on Maundy Thursday when we last heard these verses from John, and that is “Love costs you something.” Love requires you to give something up. In my wedding sermons, I go on, “Love will cost you the need to always be right, and to win every argument. Love requires give and take and compromise. Love requires giving up your life for the sake of this new collective life.

Love will cost you not having the last say every time. It will cost you swallowing your pride and saying you’re sorry, unqualified and unasked for. Love will cost you the vindication of pulling all the blankets onto yourself because you’re so mad at the person that you think they shouldn’t get the blankets.

Love requires laying down your life.

Laying down the need to be right all the time. Laying down the need for the last word.

Laying down the need for vindication.

Love is costly.”

 

This is the kind of love that Jesus models for the disciples and the love Jesus asks his disciples to embody in the world.

“By this will the world know that you are my disciples, if you have agape love for one another, for your neighbor, for the world.”

 

Agape is sacrificial. It always seeks the absolute best for the one being loved, expecting and asking for nothing in return. It is completely turned outward. Agape is giving up of yourself. It is self-emptying—in Greek what is known as kenosis—literally, “being poured out.” Like water into a basin for washing feet. Like blood and water streaming out of a pierced and wounded side on the cross.

Emptying yourself for the sake of others and for the sake of the world.

 

Last week we talked about the love God has for you, how you are known and loved and named by God. And church, if God has such love for you, what kind of responsibility—what’s the call on your life—to embody that love in your relationships with others?

 

Church, what if we were a community that was defined and known by how well we cared for each other and our neighbors? What if our defining characteristic wasn’t our worship or our Sunday School or how many people call themselves members, but in a survey that asked “How well do you find yourself cared for, how well do you find your wounds tended and bandaged, how well do you find your joys celebrated and your sorrows held and prayed for at New Hope Lutheran Church?”…what if in that survey we could say that 100% of the people said 10 out of 10, I feel that I’m exceptionally well-cared for, and I feel like the people I worship with and share my life with are deeply invested in my life, and I in theirs.

What if we were a community of faith that our neighbors could say that about, as well? How many of our neighbors, church, do you think know how well we can love or how fervently we can show up in a time of need? Can you just imagine? Can you even imagine how much of an impact that would have, not just on you, not just on the people here…but the kind of impact it would make in a community and world that is desperate for good news?

 

May is Mental Health Awareness Month, and church, in so many of the conversations I’ve had with parishioners over the past couple of weeks, I need you to know that there are a lot of folks who aren’t ok. I also need you to hear me say that if you’re one of those folks if you’re someone who’s not feeling ok right now, that it is absolutely ok to not be ok. Your struggle matters. I am here during this time, God is here during this time, and I think and I believe that this church is here during this time. And if you need something, I am someone you can come to and I can try and get you connected with folks in my network who can help. But church, you need to know that a good number of people aren’t ok, they’re really struggling with any number of things. And overwhelmingly, it’s our young folks who are struggling. That might not be where you are. Things might be just fine in your life, but please hear me say that for a good number of our young folks, they’re really and truly struggling.

 

What could it mean for you to reach out? How could you give of yourself to extend a hand and invite them to coffee or lunch and let them share their life with you? How can you reach out in love and empty yourself for the sake of someone who just needs to know there’s a community of faith that cares deeply about them and truly loves them?

 

What if we were a community of faith that truly loved?

 

By this will the world know that you are followers of Jesus.

If you have self-giving, self-emptying, sacrificial love for each other.

For your friends.

For your neighbors.

For strangers.

And for the world.

 

Fourth Sunday of Easter 2022

John 10:22-30

22 At that time the festival of the Dedication took place in Jerusalem. It was winter, 23 and Jesus was walking in the temple, in the portico of Solomon. 24 So the Judeans gathered around Jesus and said to him, “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, if you are the Christ, tell us plainly.” 25 Jesus answered, “I have told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in God’s name testify to me; 26 but you do not trust, because you do not belong to my sheep.

27 My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. 28 I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand. 29 What God has given me is greater than all else, and no one can snatch it out of God’s hand. 30 God and I are one.”

 

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Please pray with me this morning, church:

Mothering God,

Hold us. Reassure us.

In the midst of so much in our world,

Remind us that we are yours.

That we are known.

That we are loved.

Amen.

 

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One of my favorite and tried-and-true ways of clearing my head and doing a good amount of thinking is to go for a drive. Actually, before Oliver was born that’s how I would start my sermon writing process—pull through Starbucks, get the big coffee, and drive while thinking about the scripture lessons and what I might preach about. If I get super-stuck, I’ll still pull that trick out, but my schedule’s much different now and I don’t have the same time in the same way that I had before. All good, all things change.

That, and with the price of gas these days…sheesh…it would be a very expensive part of my process.

 

But the thing about driving for clarity and thinking is that if you’re trying to work something out in your mind, you can’t be super-worried about where you’re going. You either need to be willing to find your way back with a map, or you need to be on a road or a route with not a lot of variation. Too many twists and turns and you’re defeating the purpose. It can’t be too complicated.

And although it’s no longer part of my regular sermon writing process, I still do enjoy a good drive. It’s uncomplicated. I find it’s easy. And I don’t have to be so sure of the end result before I set off.

But again…gas prices, you know…

 

I’d be willing to venture a guess that you, too, could use a little less complication in your life. Am I right? A little bit easier. A little bit more clear and certain. Yeah?

 

“How long will you keep us in suspense? Are you the Messiah, the Christ? Are you the real deal? Tell us plainly.”

Make it clear. Make it uncomplicated for us. Tell us.

 

The Jewish believers in Jerusalem want certainty. They want what Thomas wanted from Jesus (…if we had heard about Thomas on the Sunday after Easter instead of me changing it the Road to Emmaus…) These people want from Jesus what I feel like most of us all want from Jesus. Certainty.

Tell me, Jesus. Tell me who you are. Reassure me that you are who people say you are.

Tell me, show me, that you really can do the things that people say you can, because truthfully, Jesus…things are starting to feel like they’re getting a little messed up around here, and I really need to know that you can do the whole saving and healing thing. I don’t know if faith is enough to sustain me in this current storm, so I’m gonna need you to do the thing everyone seems to believe you can do…I’m gonna need you to do some fixing…

 

Certainty.

We crave it.

 

Former Senior Pastor of Riverside Church in New York City, of blessed memory, the Reverend William Sloane Coffin said, “All of us tend to hold certainty dearer than truth.”

Wow…even if it’s not true, we’ll still believe it as long as someone tells us we can be sure about it. This is how we start taking investing and medical advice from facebook, by the way.

 

So how do we work it all out? How do we work out what’s true, what we can be certain about? What can make things a little less complicated than they are?

 

“I’ve told you, and you don’t believe,” Jesus tells the Judeans who are pressing him. “The things that I do in God’s name testify to me and testify to God…If you’ve seen me, you’ve seen God.”

In other words, Jesus says, see my body of work. See what I’ve done. Refer back to the blind beggar whose sight was restored. Refer back to the wedding at Cana when abundance was served up for the celebration. Healing. Wholeness. 5,000 people fed on a side of a mountain from 5 loaves and 2 fish, and oh, by the way, there were bushels of leftovers. Religious, gender, ethnic, social, and societal boundaries crossed and expanded at a well in Samaria.

Over and over and over again, Jesus shows us a God of abundance, of extravagance, of healing and wellness, of wholeness. Over and over and over again Jesus shows us God in the flesh, and yet we struggle to believe and trust in it because it flies in the face of everything the world tells you is the way things are supposed to work—scarcity, sickness, illness, dis-ease, conflict, war, outrage…

When we desire certainty, God refers us back to the times and moments in our lives that God healed or provided wellness or wholeness or lavished us with abundance.

God’s desire is always for life. Always, always for life, and life abundant.

It is God’s desire, and it is God’s promise.

It’s not complicated, it’s just difficult to trust.

 

I love that we have a baptism this morning because I don’t think there’s any clearer example of trust and faith in the face of so much uncertainty. There’s so much we don’t know about what our lives hold and what the world will be like. But for just a brief moment, God reaches into our world…heaven and earth touch…and in the simple, uncomplicated ritual of water running over her head, Ellie will hear the voice of God whispering in her ear, “My dear, sweet child…you are mine.”

And with any luck, church, you will have heard it, too.

 

The simple, clear, uncomplicated truth…that you are God’s. That God delights in you. That God desires life for you. That there is nothing in all of creation that can take you from God’s hand.

Because you, dear, sweet sheep, are known. You are known, and loved, and claimed, and named by God. You…are God’s.

 

You, Ellie, are God’s beloved. You, Augie, are God’s beloved.

You, Andy…you, Ashley…you, Joanne…you, Buddy…you, Dwight…you, Julie, Andrew, Danny, Jessica, Judy, Suzanne, Piper, Tim, Janelle, Brad, Karen, John, Beth, Abby, Mike, Wanda, Linda, Cheryl, Kim, Diane…mothers, motherly figures, stepmoms, grandmothers, dads, single parents, divorced parents, aunts, uncles, cousins…you with no kids, you who don’t want children, you who want children but struggle with infertility…you, who struggle…you…are God’s beloved.

Mother’s Day can be a complicated day, but this truth is not.

 

You are loved. So much. So deeply.

Please, hear me say that.

Amidst so much else going on, hear this…know this…you are known by God. You are loved by God. So much.

That’s true. That’s certain.