June Celebrations

During the month of June, we celebrate with members & friends of Grace.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Solveig M.

Nina A.

Kenda K.

Erica K.

Hannah K.

Clark G.

Frankie A.

Pastor Mary Louise

Ruth E.

Dana D.

Adam H.

Donna M.

Phyllis S.

Elias R.

Sara W.

Brian F.

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!

John & Linda

Taylor & Leiana

O Day Full of Grace

One of the common hymns sung on Pentecost Sunday is “O Day Full of Grace” from our hymnal Evangelical Lutheran Worship #627. Christoph E.F. Weyse 1774-1842 composed the poetry while the music is a Scandinavian folk hymn. In celebration of Pentecost and as a gift to the Lutheran Church, the Association of Lutheran Church Musicians performed a stunning arrangement of this hymn virtually, each of the 1300 organists, violinists, and singers performing in their own home but melding with the gift of technology to share “…bring light from our God that we may be abundant in joy this season. God, shine for us now in this dark place; you name on our hearts emblazon.” Click on the link below to enjoy!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ldITpkTYM0U&feature=youtu.be

Sermon for Sunday, May 24

Ascension Sunday

Gospel Reading: Luke 24: 44-53

When I was six years old, the training wheels of my Disney princess bike were taken off. Up until that point in my young life, I was comfortable with my training wheels; they made me feel safe and secure and confident in myself as a bike rider. So confident, in fact, that I was convinced my dad could take the training wheels off and I would just ride off into the sunset perfectly balanced on two wheels.

You can imagine how that went. I fell. Hard. Many times. 

Despite falling over and over again, my dad told me I could do it and all I needed was practice. He said he’d help me learn. So, day by day we went up and down the street with one of my his hands on my handle bar, and the other rested on the back of the seat. Day by day, I grew more confident and his hand disappeared from the handle bar. Day by day, we went up and down the street with only one of his hands on the back of the seat. Until one day, he let go. Of course, I didn’t realize he had let go until I was half down the block and looked back to see him in the distance. 

He was right. I learned to ride to a bike without training wheels. Grinning ear from ear, I kept on riding. All the way around the block, because I was too afraid to make a sharp turn. But I was just ecstatic! I was filled with joy! Upon the return from my victory lap, I was greeted with smiles and hugs. It was a moment to celebrate.

Metaphorically, Jesus’ ascension into heaven is a moment when the disciples’ training wheels come off.  They watch as their Savior is whisked into the heavens, and now, they are on their own. Jesus is no longer present in his physical form. Now, they’ve got to figure out how to ride this bike without training wheels. 

But the disciples are not wholly unprepared for this moment in Bethany. They have followed Jesus around for about three years, they have witnessed his teaching and healing; they have watched Jesus break bread with tax collectors and sinners, they stood at a distance on the day he was crucified, and have just stood in his resurrected presence. The disciples have been by Jesus’ side throughout his whole ministry and now the Gospel writer of Luke is making space for the disciples to carry on the work of the resurrected Jesus. 

The work of bringing good news to the poor, proclaiming release to the captives, recovery of the sight to the blind, to set the oppressed free and to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor (Luke 4:18-19). Jesus’ story moves forward in their stories. And now, the disciples share in the story of resurrection. They have the insight that death does not have the final word because they have seen Jesus in his resurrected body. The disciples have resurrection faith. 

Perhaps this is why they do not cry out with sadness or shout angry curses to the heavens when Jesus departs? Instead they are filled with great joy and they return to the Temple continually praising God. 

Jesus’ ascension is not a moment of grief, but a moment of hope. It is not a moment of experiencing God far away, but a moment of sensing God drawing near; a realization that God’s story in the world does conclude with Jesus’ ascension but continues on through the lives of the disciples, through our lives as disciples. 

This past Friday, I read an online blog post from a person named Daudi Msseemma, an ELCA representative in East Africa. In this blog, Msseemma talks about the lived experiences of rural people in his area of Tanzania, particularly the Maasai people: an indigenous ethnic group who reside in the northern, central and southern regions of Kenya and the northern region of Tanzania.

Msseemma writes how rural people, like the Maasai, are accustomed to cycles of plenty and poverty. During a severe drought in 2008-2009, he spent time in villages where the carcasses of livestock littered the ground and hungry children fainted in classrooms. He witnessed a lot of suffering. But he did not encounter hopelessness. He describes a saying common to the people of that area: “God is far, but he is very near.”

In the Maasai traditional religion, there is a belief that in the good times God is near with all God’s communal blessings. In the times of drought and communal suffering, God is far. But even when God is far, it won’t be long before he comes back. 

Msseemma is careful to note that this belief is not intended to minimize the suffering of those experiencing hardship. He writes there is no healthy outlook or ideology that will help you pass painlessly through losing loved ones or being unable to feed your children. Rather, it’s a hopeful posture through pain—an understanding that pain is a season and it will pass. 

In times like these, when we are weary of sheltering in place and watching this pandemic continue to affect the people of the world, it would be easy to say that God is far away. But Scripture tells us that God is a present help in times of trouble (Psalm 46). God never leaves us.  

On the day Jesus departed for the heavens, he made a promise. A promise to send upon the disciples power from on high. He tells the disciples to wait in Jerusalem until they have been clothed with this power from on high. The promised power of the Holy Spirit is coming.

It the power of the Holy Spirit which will give birth a new kind of community: the church. The body of Christ. It is power of the Holy Spirit poured out upon all flesh that will empower the disciples to ride their bike and bring the good news of the resurrection to every nation, to all people.

On the day we were baptized, our Lutheran theology tells us that we received the gift of the Holy Spirit. The same Spirit promised by Jesus on the day of Ascension. The same Spirit poured out upon the disciples on the day of Pentecost. The same Spirit who is walking alongside us in these days—  encouraging us to ride our bikes through these times of weariness and uncertainty to proclaim good news, to do justice and to love our neighbor. As we wobble on this bike together, as we find our new rhythms, as we anticipate the new thing that God will do when this season passes: we are not alone. God may feel far away, but God will never leave us.

Thanks be to God! 

Pentecost Pause

Beginning Tuesday, June 2, Vicar Beth and Pastor Sarah will offer Pentecost Pause on Tuesdays and Thursdays at 12:00 pm on the Grace Facebook page via Facebook live. Our theme will be “Spiritual Practices for the Weary,” and each week, we’ll explore a different spiritual practice that can be done at home.  Please join us!

Heat Respite Update

We are suspending Heat Respite at Grace this year as we normally offer it. However, Grace will continue to share food, water, and hygiene supplies with members of the community who are experiencing homelessness. These items are set out behind the gate near the church office for anyone who needs them, Monday-Sunday, 9:00 am-12:00 pm. We are also providing iced cold water bottles every day 9:00 am–5:00 pm.

We welcome donations of bottled water, packaged snacks, and small-size hygiene items for this outreach. To ensure someone is here to receive your donations, please contact Adrienne in the church office or Pastor Sarah to set up a time to drop off donations. Thank you!

As the summer progresses, we hope to expand what we are able to provide for the community, but this will depend entirely upon the trajectory of Covid-19 transmission.

Congratulations!

Congratulations to Grace Pastoral Intern, Vicar Beth Gallen! She is receiving a Master of Divinity degree from Luther Seminary over the weekend. We are so happy for her and proud to be part of her call to leadership.

Feel free to share notes, emails, or text messages of congratulations with Vicar Beth!

Vicar Beth, Associate the Bishop Rev. Jacqui Pagel, and Pastor Sarah on one of Vicar Beth’s first Sundays at Grace

Vicar Beth, Associate the Bishop Rev. Jacqui Pagel, and Pastor Sarah on one of Vicar Beth’s first Sundays at Grace

The GLOW SHOW: Episode Seven

People of Grace,

In this and the next couple episodes of The GLOW SHOW, we continue to explore the theme of friendship. We hope that these episodes might inspire you to reach out and make new friend connections or deepen your existing friendships. Click the play button below, and you will hear from Ruth and Renee, two members of Grace Lutheran Church, who have been friends for many years and share the story of their friendship. Thank you for sharing your story, Ruth and Renee, we are grateful! Leave us your comments and questions right here on the blog! We’d love to hear from you.

Enjoy!

With love,

Pastor Sarah and Vicar Beth

The GLOW SHOW: Episode Six

People of Grace,

In this and the next couple episodes of The GLOW SHOW, we explore the theme of friendship. We hope that these episodes might inspire you to reach out and make new friend connections or deepen your existing friendships. Click the play button below, and you will hear from Brian and Solveig, two members of Grace Lutheran Church, who have been friends for many years and share the story of their friendship. Thank you for sharing your story, Brian and Solveig, we are grateful! Leave us your comments and questions right here on the blog! We’d love to hear from you.

Enjoy!

With love,

Pastor Sarah and Vicar Beth

Sermon for Sunday, May 17

Gospel Reading: John 14:15-21

In today’s Jesus story, Jesus continues his long good-bye to his disciples on the night before his crucifixion.  Because he knows he will physically leave them, he promises to send the paraclete, a Greek word meaning “advocate.”  Later, on the day of Pentecost, it becomes clear Jesus was referring to the Holy Spirit.  Jesus further informs the disciples: You know the Spirit because the Spirit abides in you, and the Spirit will be in you.  Our Lutheran baptismal liturgy echoes Jesus’ promise that the Spirit would reside in the disciples.  Indeed, one of the gifts of Holy Baptism, as understood by Martin Luther, is the presence of the Holy Spirit in the life of the baptized by which we receive gifts and talents to be used in service to God and God’s people.  But in Greek, the preposition we translate here as “in” may also be translated as “among.”  Jesus not only promises the presence of the Holy Spirit in the lives of individual followers but among the whole people of God.  Instead of embodying the Holy Spirit only in our individual acts of love and service, Jesus promises that the Holy Spirit is embodied among us, in the ministry we do together. 

That may not sound at all noteworthy.  You may wonder why I even bring it up.  Of course, the Holy Spirit is embodied among us.  But consider our culture, our common stories, our beloved heroes.  Superheroes like Superman and Wonder Woman.  Civic heroes like the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Sojourner Truth.  Arts heroes like Virginia Woolf and Wendell Berry.  Everyday heroes like police officers, first responders, nurses.  We celebrate and lift up these heroes who give of themselves for the sake of the common good, whose work benefits each of us, whose influence pervades our society.  We do so quite rightly.  Not only do we celebrate our heroes, it feels good to be a hero.  A family friend of mine is a lineman for his local electric company in the Midwest.  After tornados, thunderstorms, and ice storms, when his community doesn’t have power, he is the one to climb up telephone poles and fix them, restore power to furnaces and A/C units, to refrigerators and medical equipment, to bring power and with it, safety to his community.  He loves being the hero, not because he is self-centered.  The very opposite, in fact.  He loves it because he loves to help and serve and do something truly useful for others. 

In a culture that celebrates heroes and among people who love to serve in hero roles, we sometimes fail to remember that no one works alone, that we need multiple hands and ideas and talents for any project, that the Holy Spirit equips and empowers the whole people of God for shared ministry that is impossible to do alone.  Each of our heroes and each one of us are a product of many people on whose shoulders we stand, a product of parents and other loving adults who nurtured us, a product of teachers and pastors and coaches who challenged us to grow.  Certainly, our individual acts of service are the building blocks of ministry together, but we do nearly all work, nearly all ministry together, not individually, no one hero claiming all the glory.  

Just as an example, consider the ministry of GLOW, Grace Lutheran on Wednesdays, an evening meal and study.  After two months of not meeting, GLOW seems a distant memory, but I can still call to mind the many people who make GLOW work.  Marlene does the meal planning and makes the shopping list.  Evalyn buys the groceries and later counts the GLOW offering.  Donors donate the money for GLOW, and periodically, I write grants for it.  Lori, Chris, and Alex receive food donations throughout the week in the church kitchen and document each donation.  Adrienne and office volunteers send thank you notes for the donations.  Marlene, Lori, Devalyn, Ann, Ron, and sometimes others cook the food.  Come 5:00 pm on Wednesdays, Sheila, Fran, Carol, Emily, and others arrive to serve the meal and wash the dishes.  Vicar Beth and I decide on a theme for the Bible study and spend time over a number of weeks inviting guests and preparing powerpoints.  Finally, on Wednesday at 5:15, the doors open, and Ray or Brian or someone else sits with us at the welcome table to sign people in.  I lead announcements and prayer and dismiss tables.  We all eat together, all who have gathered giving of themselves in conversation, building relationships for the sake of the community.  Then, Vicar Beth and I lead the study.  Ray operates the powerpoint.  Fran plays piano as we sing.  Everyone asks questions and shares insights.  The Holy Spirit is among us.  Yes, we all utilize our individual gifts and talents, and those individual gifts and talents shared add up to a whole ministry.  No one has to do everything.  You don’t want me to cook for a crowd or count the offering, and you will never catch Devalyn leading a Bible study.  But we don’t have to do those things…because other people with the appropriate gifts will.  We each receive gifts from the Holy Spirit and get to use them for the sake of the common good.  The Holy Spirit is among us, not just in us.

As Jesus says his long good-bye to the disciples, the promise of the Holy Spirit at work among the twelve of them—and not simply in each of them—shines with good news.  They didn’t know it that night, but the disciples were about to embark on an adventure.  Jesus would die and be raised and ascend into heaven.  In the wake of Jesus’ ascension, the Holy Spirit would fill the disciples on the day of Pentecost.  The Spirit would call them to establish the Christian church on earth, to heal people and feed them, to forgive sin and baptize, to establish and nurture Christian communities throughout the known world.  Regardless of the Spirit’s presence in them, the multitude of these tasks and relationships would be too much for any one person.

So too for us.  When we look to our heroes or our mentors or just people we admire, we may wonder: how do they do it?  How could so much talent and energy and passion live alongside such organization and focus and dedication?  The answer to that question is almost always that they didn’t do it alone.  The Holy Spirit comes among us as, together, we do the work of God.  If we feel stuck today, unable to do the things God is calling us to do, even with the help of the Holy Spirit, perhaps God is inviting us to ask for help, to include others in our vision, to admit what we don’t know and learn from others.  For truly, the Spirit not only dwells in each of us but abides among us for the sake of the common good.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.

If we feel stuck today, unable to do the things God is calling us to do, even with the help of the Holy Spirit, perhaps God is inviting us to ask for help, to include others in our vision, to admit what we don’t know and learn from others.

Covid-19 Update

People of Grace:

Even though I long for us to be together in person and even though the governor has allowed businesses to reopen across the state of Arizona, we continue to meet virtually only.  The reason is that, according to the CDC and other scientists working to understand Covid-19, the risks of gathering groups of people for an extended period of time inside a building are simply too great right now.  Those most vulnerable are people over the age of 60 and anyone with underlying health conditions.  Because of what I have read by epidemiologists and other scientists, I fear that we will see a huge spike in the number of deaths from Covid-19 in the coming weeks, and because meeting for worship in person is one of the most risky situations we could participate in in terms of virus transmission, we cannot meet.  For me, this is a matter of loving our neighbor--and specifically, one another.  The death of a member of the Grace community—due to Covid-19—would devastate us.  So, please be patient and hopeful in this time when we must refrain from gathering.  We--the Grace community guided and loved and strengthened by God--will get through this together!

Re-Opening Plan

Guided by the CDC recommendations and the recommendation of our synodical bishop Deborah Hutterer, the Grace congregational council will decide at what point we will hold in-person gatherings at Grace. When they do decide to move forward with re-opening, we will do so in 5 steps.

  1. Small groups begin to meet in person if they wish, including KnitWits, Bells of Grace, Praise Band, Prayer Group, and Council. When people are ill or otherwise susceptible to virus transmission, they will be encouraged to stay home.

  2. Small rental groups begin to meet in person if they wish, including The Trunk Space, Native Elders, and New Life in Christ Fellowship.

  3. In-person worship, Grace Time Bible Study, Kaleo, and Native American Urban Ministry (NAUM) resume with significant protocol changes; see below for a partial description of changes. When people are ill or otherwise susceptible to virus transmission, they will be encouraged to stay home.

  4. Pancake breakfast, Kaleo meals, NAUM meals, fellowship, and Grace Room distribution resume with significant protocol changes.

  5. Everything resumes, including regular office hours, Trevor’s Vision, and heat respite—but likely with caps on the number of people and significant protocol changes.

In-Person Worship Changes

As we wait and take good care of ourselves and our community, you may wonder what worship will be like when we return to in-person worship. We will not know for sure how long these changes will persist, perhaps until there is a vaccine for Covid-19. Also, please note: we will continue to live stream worship on Facebook at least until there is a vaccine and perhaps indefinitely.

We will worship at either one or two services, most likely both services in the Sanctuary. Every other pew will be designated for sitting in order to ensure six feet between all worshipers, with the exclusion of families sitting together.

Because singing is the most risky activity in terms of virus transmission, we will not be singing but instead inviting everyone to read the words of hymns or songs as the music is played by Brandon or the praise band. If you have your own percussion instrument (e.g. tambourine), please bring it with you, and if you play a string instrument, please contact our organist Brandon or praise band leader Chad to figure out how you could contribute to worship music.

Even choral reading—all of us speaking at the same time—is risky, so our unison reading will be cut down.

If you have your own mask, we will ask you to wear it to worship. For those who do not have a mask, we will provide one for you and will ask you to wear it the entire time you are on the Grace campus.

Hand sanitizing stations will be provided, and every person will use sanitizer as they enter the building. We will not pass the offering plate but instead invite people to bring their offering forward to a plate in a central location. Bulletins will not be handed out but set out a few days prior on the pews. Hymnals and other materials will be cleared out of the space; words to hymns and songs will be printed in the bulletin.

These and other changes will be made for the well-being and safety of us all—and the well-being and safety of everyone else with whom we come into contact. Because it will be vitally important that everyone honor these changes in our life together, when someone is not following these protocols, we will ask that person to comply with them. If they do not, we will ask them to leave immediately.

I hope we are over-reacting! Because of the nature of the pandemic, if we take good care of our community and do not see the transmission of the virus in the Grace community, it will look like we over-reacted. But in fact, it will mean we made the best choices for the health and safety of us all.

Of course, I hope that we will be able to move rapidly through these steps and get on the other side of this pandemic. We all hope for that! In the meantime, we nurture our connection with God through a variety of spiritual practices, love one another, and serve our neighbors.

With so much love for each of you,

Pastor Sarah

Free Exercise Equipment Available

By the grace of an individual and his family who used to rent space at Grace, we have a few pieces of exercise equipment to share with anyone in the Grace community who would like them.

The following are available: 2 elliptical machines, a stationary exercise bike, a beam scale, boxing gloves, jump ropes, and exercise balls.

If you or someone you know would put any of these items to use, or you would like to receive pictures of particular items available, please contact officemanager@graceinthecity.com.

eliptical machines and a stationary bike
boxing gloves
balance discs
scale.jpg

Thank you, people of Grace!

For the past two years, Emma Fernandez has worshiped with us and played bells as part of Bells of Grace. Now graduated from ASU with a degree in journalism, Emma moves on to the next phase of her life. We wish her well and God’s blessing on all that is to come!

Emma writes:

Thank you for being my church home for the last four years. Thank you for being so welcoming and loving. You could never know how much it meant to me. I wish our time together could have ended differently, but Grace will always hold a special place in my heart. Thank you, people of Grace!

Thank you, Emma, for joining in community with us!

The GLOW SHOW: Episode Five

People of Grace,

In this and the next few episodes of The GLOW SHOW, we explore the theme of friendship. We hope that these episodes might inspire you to reach out and make new friend connections or deepen your existing friendships. Click the play button below, and you will hear two stories of friendship from our friends at StoryScope. You can learn more about StoryScope at www.storyscopeproject.com.

Leave us your comments and questions right here on the blog! We’d love to hear from you.

Enjoy!

With love,

Pastor Sarah and Vicar Beth

Sermon for Sunday, May 10, 2020

Perhaps, like me, you have been reaching out to the people you love more intentionally than ever before.  Facebook, emailing, texting more frequently.  I hate talking on the phone, but I’ve succumbed to it, hour-long conversations with friends I would normally meet for lunch.  Zoom coffee meetings with my dad, FaceTime conversations with my niece, showing her the 3-week old baby chicks in my backyard, a Mother’s Day celebration today with the help of technology.  Striking up conversation with my neighbors, them on their porch, me on the sidewalk.  Even waving at and greeting complete strangers during my morning runs.  And of course, I don’t think I have ever been in so much digital communication with all of you, so many one-on-one contacts.  In the past eight weeks, the following truth has come into focus for me: In this moment, we have nothing else but one another and God.  In times previous, we may have deluded ourselves into thinking we could rely on something else: money or employment, health or intellectual prowess, prestige or power.  Turns out, each of these can all too easily end. 

Some of us already knew this, knowledge hard won.  Some of us—or dearly loved people in our lives—have endured accidents or medical conditions that resulted in months in the hospital, rehab, or isolation at home.  Some of us have experienced abuse or trauma.  Some of us have fought in wars or otherwise given of ourselves through military service.  Some of us live in bodies who by their very demographic leave us particularly vulnerable to prejudice and even violence, like Ahmaud Arbery who was shot and killed during his regular daily jog this past February in what appears to be a racially motivated crime.  These close-up experiences of uncertainty, fragility, and vulnerability have taught many not only the value of relationships with God and one another but the slippery nature of relying on anything else.  Now, we all live in a time of vivid uncertainty, fragility, and vulnerability, conditions difficult to avoid in this pandemic.  But if we allow them to, this uncertainty, fragility, and vulnerability can profoundly teach us what is real.

Today’s Jesus story sets us in the middle of Jesus’ long good-bye to the disciples after three years of ministry together.  In the gospel of John, though Jesus references his upcoming crucifixion and death, as usual, the disciples don’t get it.  They no doubt assume his glorious kingdom come will look like a political and even a military victory in a Roman occupied Israel.  But just prior to today’s story from John 14, in John 13, Jesus washes the disciples’ feet and shares that one of them will betray him and that Peter will deny him.  Immediately after, Jesus begins today’s story saying: ‘Do not let your hearts be troubled’ and then assures the disciples he is preparing dwelling places for them in the place where he too is going.  Hearing of betrayal and denial from among their own ranks and of Jesus’ imminent death, the disciples face the uncertainty of their own and Jesus’ future, the fragility inherent in life, and the vulnerability of God’s kingdom come.  Do not let your hearts be troubled?  Jesus’ words seem almost comical.  What could possibly soothe troubled hearts now? 

When Jesus references the dwelling places he will prepare for them, he is not necessarily talking about heaven or a physical place.  Rather, the root Greek word used here is meno which means “remain” or “abide,” a verb used many times in the gospel of John.  The dwelling place to which the disciples will find their way is a relationship with God, and a “way” there is a relationship with Jesus. 

Almost three years ago, I embarked on a journey to Iowa for sabbatical.  The middle of the first day, I dropped off Richard, who is now my spouse, in Colorado with his bike and continued on my way.  For a month, I visited old friends from childhood, college, and seminary.  I sat for hours in a screened Iowa porch and wrote liturgy and about liturgy.  Most days, I ate meals alone, biked alone, walked alone, wrote alone.  I lived out of a suitcase.  Don’t get me wrong: I was perfectly content, delighted to be back on the campus of my alma mater, reveling in the green grass, largely pollution-free air, and cool evenings.  At the end of the month, I got back in my car and retraced my route through Colorado.  In a small town near Durango, I picked up Richard with plans to hike at a national park.  Together, we traveled to Utah, a place I had never been but is, I am convinced, the most gorgeous place on earth.  You all need to go!  It’s amazing!  I had never been there before, and I was still living out of a suitcase.  But I found myself at home, with Richard, at home with much laughter, lively conversation, and shared experiences.  Like falling into a deep armchair at the end of a hard day or being transported back to a memory of love through a particular smell.  Loving relationships include challenges for sure; this particular one for me includes much debate and discussion about an endless variety of topics and the occasional misunderstanding, miscommunication, or even disagreement.  Despite that, loving relationships provide safe space to be who and how we are, a jumble of silly and serious, wise and foolish, tearful and joyous.  We dwell in our most important relationships, or to borrow a cliché that in this case is true: Home is where the heart is.    

Today, Jesus says: In my father’s house, there are many dwelling places.  I go to prepare a place for you.  Or in other words, there is a home for us in the love of God.  A God who sees all of who we are and rejoices in us.  A God from whom we cannot hide a thing and forgives us.  A God on whom we may call at any time in prayer.  A God present with us in every difficult and joyous moment.  A God who comforts us in times of grief and challenges us through the Holy Spirit to use our gifts for the common good.  A God whose love for us does not end.  Not only that, through baptism and the life we share in Christian community, we are at home in our relationships with one another and all those who care for us tenderly in the jumble of our human experience.  Even though life in the present moment is uncertain and fragile, and even though we may feel vulnerable, the relationship we have with God and the relationships we have with one another sustain us.  Here and now, in this present moment, we love and are loved, and that is enough. 

The crisis we have endured and will continue to endure—because dear friends, this is not over—this crisis might teach us what has always been true, what has always been real: that our relationships with God and one another are all we have, but, thanks be to God, they are enough!  Amen.

Sermon for Sunday, May 3, 2020

I invite you later today to open your Bible and read in one sitting John 9:1 through John 10:21.  Read silently, it takes but a few minutes.  Read aloud, it would consume a good chunk of our time this morning.  To read John 9:1 through John 10:21 is to radically change how we hear the good news of our Jesus story this morning.

In John 9, Jesus encounters a man born blind, a man assumed a sinner because of his disability, a man cast out from community, a man who begged every day for food to eat.  In short order and on the Sabbath to boot, Jesus spits on the ground, makes mud, rubs it on the man’s eyes, commands him to wash in the pool of Siloam, and the man sees—for the first time in his life.  Then begins a comedy as the neighbors and the Pharisees try to make sense of the man’s sight and the One who granted it.  Both the neighbors and the Pharisees question the identity of the man born blind.  They question the parents of the man born blind.  They question who Jesus is and dismiss the man’s answer: that Jesus is a prophet.  They question all that the man says because he does not agree with them.  As a result, the neighbors and Pharisees drive out the man born blind; whereas he had always been socially marginalized because of his supposed sin, now he is physically distanced from community, not allowed in the presence of others.  When Jesus goes to find the man, Jesus reveals he is the Son of Man who comes to bring sight to the blind and to blind those who see, and the man worships him.  The man born blind, ironically, sees, sees who Jesus is.  To conclude the comedy, the Pharisees who overhear their exchange ask: Surely, we are not blind, are we? 

Jesus continues in the presence of the Pharisees and the man born blind: Very truly, I tell you, anyone who does not enter the sheepfold by the gate but climbs in by another way is a thief and a bandit…I am the gate for the sheep…Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. 

Jesus is the gate for the sheep, the One who determines who comes in and goes out, the One who holds the boundaries of the community.  The sheep go in and out, in for shelter and out for pasture, and Jesus the gate opens and closes the community to keep safe the sheep and also to grant them freedom.  When the man born blind used to sit and beg each day that he might eat, when the people of his community walked past him without seeing him, when he was but an object of pity without a name, the man born blind could not get through the gate of his own community.  After he receives his sight and testifies to the One who has granted sight to him, the people of his community literally drive him out.  And then, Jesus proclaims the good news: I am the gate.  Not the Pharisees, not the neighbors, not even religious tradition that defines right from wrong, that distinguishes sinner from saint.  I am the gate, Jesus says, and he swings open for the man born blind.   

At this particular moment in our life on this planet, gates or, more literally in the Greek, doors play a vivid role in daily life.  When the doorbell rings, before we open the door, we put on a mask.  Before we step out of our car and walk across the parking lot to the grocery store, we put on a mask.  Before we open the door of our home, wherever we are going, we wash our hands.  When we come through the door of a new place, we wash our hands.  Right now, closed doors keep us safe. 

But we know that doors or gates play a vivid role in our lives not only now but always.  Our locked doors stand between us and those who wish to harm us; gated communities allow in only those who belong there.  Here in Arizona, we know our southern border as gate.  The first poet laureate of Arizona, Alberto Rios, in a poem entitled The Border: A Double Sonnet writes: The border has always been a welcome stopping place but is now a Stop sign, always red…the border is a locked door that has been promoted…the border is mighty, but even the parting of the seas created a path, not a barrier. 

Rios, who incidentally, has worshiped here at Grace a few times because of a family connection, grew up in Nogales on the US side of the border.  His words paint with startling clarity how Jesus functions as gate.  For while we close our borders, our gates, our doors perhaps out of fear for what lies on the other side or because we seek to define community in a particular way, “even the parting of the seas created a path, not a barrier.”  Rios captures our biblical imagination when he references the story of Exodus chapter 14.  In Exodus, the Israelites have escaped slavery in Egypt but with the Egyptian army on their heels.  Through the leadership of Moses, God parts the Red Sea on the shores of which the Israelites stand, and they walk safely through the sea to freedom on the other side.  The sea border, in the story of God’s people, becomes not a closed gate or a locked door but a path to freedom. 

So too for the man born blind.  Instead of a closed gate or a locked door, Jesus swings open the gate to create a path to freedom.  Instead of begging every day for food to eat, instead of waiting on the charity of others, instead of perpetually sitting just outside the gate, the man born blind is welcome among God’s people, restored to community, health, and fullness of life.  He is welcome to come in and go out, as Jesus spoke of sheep coming in for shelter and going out for pasture. 

In this season of Covid-19, we define our boundaries more vividly than ever, personally, at businesses and airports, at churches and schools.  Who may enter a particular space and who may not shines with clarity, but we know that most homes, most communities, most nations have long both implicitly and explicitly defined their boundaries—and sometimes for good reasons like health and safety.  In the church, the body of Christ, Jesus defines and holds our boundaries.  Not me the pastor, not the council, not us the congregation, not the neighbors, not even our religious tradition that defines right from wrong, that supposedly distinguishes sinner from saint.  Jesus holds the boundaries of our community.  Jesus is the gate and thus the only one who gets to answer the question: who belongs here? 

And while I would like to tie up this sermon with a clear and certain answer, I do not believe our Jesus story allows this.  All I can say is this: Jesus swings open the gate for the man born blind, and the open gate surprises the Pharisees, the religious leaders.  When Jesus answers the question: who belongs here? in our own community, I think we too will be surprised for Jesus sees the world differently than we do.  Whoever we are, whatever position we hold, whatever authority we think we possess, the good news that brings us freedom and the challenging truth that surprises us is this: we are not the gate.  Jesus is.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.