Food Box Packing & Delivery

Want to serve in some way? Have a free hour or two? Each Saturday afternoon, we deliver food boxes to Grace friends and neighbors as well as foster families and refugee families referred to us by Lutheran Social Services of the Southwest. Masked volunteers pick up 2-3 food boxes between 2:30 and 3:30 pm from Grace and deliver to somewhere in the metro area. Volunteers need not help every Saturday; the more volunteers we have, the less often anyone needs to help.

Prior to delivery, different volunteers pack the food boxes. In order to maintain safe social distance, we can only have 2-4 people pack each week.

To help with either part of this ministry, please email Pastor Sarah at pastorsarah@graceinthecity.com.

Check-In Chats

Our community building goal for July, August, and September is to reach out to a Grace friend or acquaintance once a week over the phone, a practice we are calling “Check-In Chats.” You can check in with the same person each week or choose a different person each week. We all need opportunities to share how we are doing, perhaps now more than ever!

Remember that some of us are willing to share more than others. Whatever we choose to share—or not—about how we are is completely fine.

The Grace directory will be attached to the weekly email so that you have the numbers you need to connect. If you are not currently on the email list but would like to be, please email Pastor Sarah at pastorsarah@graceinthecity.com.

Discipleship in a Democracy

Discipleship in a Democracy: The Church’s Expectations for Our Government

What purpose does God have for both Church and State? How does a personal faith in Christ shape a call to public service in government?  Should our government serve citizens over neighbors? What are just limits to personal freedom for the sake of the common good? What about racism effect on government systems? What does a Christian do when our government fails?  

Monday nights in July, beginning July 6, 6:30 to 7:30 pm.  

Join Zoom Meeting https://zoom.us/j/94858136555

This four-week class will examine “A Draft Social Message on Government and Civic Engagement” It will be taught by Pastor Dan Hoeger of All Saints and Jonathan Levine, an Assistant Attorney General with the Office of the Arizona Attorney General. This class will be taught as part of Phoenix Fusion program of ELCA congregations.

Conversation around Race & the Criminal Justice System

Join Phoenix Fusion for a book study and discussion of The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness by Michelle Alexander, led by Pastor Kristin Rice of All Saints Lutheran Church. This is a Phoenix Fusion offering, meant for all the ELCA congregations in Phoenix.

This study will be especially helpful for those who are:

· Wondering what we mean when we talk about “systemic” racism (i.e. why the problem is bigger than a few “bad apples”)

· Interested in history and context that informs the current protest movement

· Frustrated that we’re still talking about something that supposedly ended decades ago

· Interested in becoming allies to African Americans in their continued struggle

· Looking for concrete ways we can work towards a more just and equitable society for all people that reflects the reign of God

These discussions can be tough. Our aim in this course is to create a safe, shame-free space for listening, learning, and personal transformation, starting right where you are.

Thursdays 6:30 pm

Introduction: July 2

Study: July 9, 16, 23, and 30

Meeting virtually on Zoom

To ask questions or enroll, send an email to Pastor Kristin at krice@allsaintsphoenix.org.

To learn more about the book or find out where to order your copy, visit newjimcrow.com.

Note that physical copies of the book are sold out in many places, but ebook versions are available on many platforms. See newjimcrow.com for a list of sites for purchasing electronic copies.

The GLOW SHOW: Episode Eleven

We begin a new series on the GLOWSHOW, titled: “Generosity Stories”. Over the next several episodes, you will hear stories of generosity from our community— stories from Grace members, ministry partners and people who share our physical space (in non-COVID times, of course). We hope that through these stories you will feel encouraged and inspired to look for the ways God is generous in our world, and practice generosity in your own life. In this particular episode, Pastor Sarah and Vicar Beth explore two stories from the Bible that offer perspectives on generosity. Click the play button below, and leave us your comments and questions right here on the blog. We’d love to hear from you.

Enjoy!

Sermon for Sunday, June 21

Gospel Lesson: Matthew 10:24-39

The cross is ubiquitous within Christianity, ubiquitous meaning everywhere, hanging inside sanctuaries and around our necks, on the tops of church steeples and on the walls of our homes, featured on bulletin boards and as part of children’s arts and crafts projects.  The most identifiable symbol of Christianity, the cross lies center stage among Christians not just aesthetically but theologically.  As Lutherans, we embrace a theology of the cross; that means we see God present in suffering.  In this morning’s gospel story, Jesus teaches the disciples about the cross: Whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me.  Of course, ancient followers of Jesus did not write down the gospels until well after Jesus was crucified and raised, but Matthew, Mark, and Luke all include this teaching of Jesus in the middle of their gospels.  Presumably, the disciples heard these words before they knew and far before they believed that Jesus would be crucified, that Jesus would die on a cross, that Jesus would literally take up the cross on his own back and walk to Golgotha.  Two thousand years later, we 21st century Christians can hardly pull apart the deep meaning, the rich symbolism of the cross from the life and ministry of Jesus.  But histories from the first century—not just the Bible—reveal to us that the Roman Empire used crucifixion, meaning death upon the cross, to silence opposition to the empire.  The Roman Empire used crucifixion to make an example of political dissidents.  The Roman Empire used crucifixion to publicly punish criminals.  In a world far more accustomed to brutal violence, crucifixion topped the list of tortuous devices meant for the very worst offenders, meant for those who challenged the authority of the empire.  That’s the cross Jesus teaches the disciples to take up. 

And this morning, Jesus’ transparent political message makes me laugh...and cry.  We Christians and definitely we preachers steer clear of political messages, but there is no doubt that in his own historical context, Jesus’ message is highly political.  He challenges the Roman Empire by calling his disciples to take up the cross, to deeply identify with criminals, rebels, slaves, to enter the cause of criminals themselves, people named criminals, that is, by the Roman Empire.  Jesus calls the disciples to get mixed up with people of disreputable intent, again, disreputable according to the empire, in order to embrace the way of Jesus. 

Ha!  Jesus, you make me laugh…and cry.  Following you is hard for a nice, Scandinavian, Minnesotan girl like me.  As a teenager and young adult, I really wanted to be nice.  I mean, I still do, but I took my nice crusade to another level a decade ago.  For me, niceness was sometimes grounded in deep kindness, love, and respect.  At other times, niceness was just a surface politeness coupled with internal judgment or indifference.  Jesus’ command this morning challenges this latter form of niceness.  Because Jesus does not command the disciples to pity criminals nor does he command them to help political dissidents.  Instead, Jesus commands the disciples to actively enter into the struggle of criminals and rebels, slaves and dissidents by taking up the same cross.  Which sounds beautiful rhetorically but looks super messy and feels very uncomfortable and actually painful at times.

I would say that sums up my personal journey of becoming aware of how I usually unconsciously express the racist values and norms of our culture and my journey of discovering my white privilege, that is, the ways my being white makes life easier for me.  I am grateful for some very kind people who clued me in for the first time about twenty years ago that my niceness wasn’t the same thing as right relationship.  Cringes all around—even in my memory.  And my journey, my anti-racist journey, continues, messy, uncomfortable, and sometimes painful.  For me, this journey is part of what it means to take up the cross, to walk the way of Jesus.

Jesus’ command to the disciples to take up the cross, to identify with those deemed problematic by a violent, unjust empire likely seemed an intellectual exercise to them…until Jesus himself took up the cross and erased all doubt about the group of people with whom he identified.  It occurs to me that Jesus too lived with a certain privilege.  We who believe that Jesus is God acknowledge that Jesus could have walked away from the cross, could have engineered a life without suffering, could have found another way to redeem all creation.  Of course.  But instead, Jesus took up the cross alongside two others deemed criminals by the Roman Empire.  He was one of them.  He didn’t pity them.  He didn’t help them.  He didn’t begin programs to reach out to them (however much those programs are good and helpful).  He was one of them. 

With whom do we identify?  Who is part of our community?  Who do we let it and make one of us?  Whose struggle do we enter, and how do we enter it?  I fear providing too pat an answer for these complex questions.  I fear offending or misspeaking.  I fear being labeled “political” in my preaching.  I fear my own lack of understanding about racism and white privilege—and how I look to others who are further along this journey.  I fear misinterpreting Jesus’ words.  I also fear presenting Jesus’ words only through the frame of race when, in reality, many peoples are marginalized.  And quite honestly, I fear the shame of not ever having preached this before. 

In my fear, I hear the words of Jesus from earlier in our scripture reading: ‘Have no fear’ of those who malign you.  ‘Do not fear’ human authority.  ‘Do not be afraid’ for you are of much value in the eyes of God.  Jesus acknowledges that the journey of following him is challenging, but he also releases the disciples from fear. 

Jesus preaches a deeply political message to the disciples who face political problems both during Jesus’ lifetime and after, during the formation of the early Christian church.  Jesus releases them from fear so that they might take up the cross, identify with those who suffer, enter into the struggle of those who are marginalized.  To take up the cross and follow Jesus is to live with a measure of messiness, uncomfortability, and pain.  But do not fear.  Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for Jesus’ sake will find it.  Thanks be to God!  Amen. 

Sermon for Sunday, June 14th

Matthew 9:35-10:23

One of the questions that seminarians often get asked is: “What’s your call story?” When committees or professors or congregation members or internship supervisors ask this question, they want to hear how this particular person expresses an interest in ordained ministry. They want to hear the stories about how this person has heard the Holy Spirit’s voice calling them to serve and lead in God’s church for the sake of the world.  

I’ve been asked this question a number of times; as I’m sure Pastor has been asked a number of times in the course of her life. How did you know you were called to serve as a pastor? This is a question about vocation. A fancy word for calling.

I’m not opposed to articulating my call story. It’s good question. I sometimes wonder, though, if there is an assumption that pastors and deacons and other clergy type are the only people expected to have call stories or at the very least, they might be the only people we ask to articulate a call story.

In Martin Luther’s time, “calling” or “vocation” was understood to apply only to those called into religious service. That is, only priests, monks, nuns and others called “away from the world” to serve God had a “true” vocation or a “true” calling.

Part of the 16th century Lutheran Reformation offered a radical redefinition of the term “vocation”. A human being is not called away from the world—with all its beauty as well as all its suffering. Rather, Martin Luther and his colleagues argued that all people are called to enter and engage the world, especially those who are in need, who are powerless or who are suffering. This means that every person is called to live their life in relationship with others within the daily rhythms of life. 

While the young Luther was raised with the notion that only the work of religious professionals “mattered” in the world, his emerging reform insisted that all persons form part of an interdependent web in which life and health are sustained and supported. He called this the priesthood of all believers.The qualification for living into our daily vocation as the priesthood of all believers is not dependent upon how much money we earn, how how long we attended school or whether we know the Bible inside and out. What qualifies us for entering and engaging the world with all its needs and untold suffering is our baptism. That’s it. Our identity as beloved children of God received in the waters of baptism is what makes us qualified for loving a hurting world. The test for our callings is not “are we doing something religious? But are we serving the real needs of our neighbors?”

In today’s Jesus story, we hear Jesus has been traveling from town to town. He’s been preaching and teaching and healing all kinds of sickness and disease. As the crowds continue to grow, Jesus makes an observation about the people following him: they are like sheep without a shepherd, harassed and helpless. We living in the 21st century, and primarily city dwellers, might not fully grasp the meaning of this comparison. In agrarian communities, it is dangerous to leave sheep unattended. Without the guidance and protection of a shepherd, sheep are vulnerable to their environment and fall prey to predators. When Jesus looks at the crowds, he sees vulnerable people, lost people. He sees people in need. Instead of blaming them for their predicament, Jesus feels compassion for them. 

This is not some nice sentiment on Jesus’ part. Compassion literally means a stirring in the bowels or stirring in the gut. It’s not sympathy. It’s not pity. Jesus is feeling with the crowds. Their dire situation becomes his situation. Similarly, Jesus will respond with compassion to the hunger of the crowd in both feeding accounts in the wilderness. Jesus’ deeds of power are not simply displays of divine authority. Rather, they well up from a deep sense of care for the needs of the people. 

Needs that are great and many. So great and so many that Jesus needs help. So he enlists the disciples in the work of caring for people. He calls the disciples to him and renames them as apostles. Meaning, sent ones. The disciples are no longer just students of Jesus’ ministry and mission, but agents of it. In my view, the disciples have left the safety of the classroom and are heading out on internship! Putting all of what they have learned into practice. The apostles are called into the very same mission of Jesus: proclaiming the good news of God’s kingdom, teaching, raising the dead and healing the sick.

Church, we are apostles, too. Named and claimed in our baptisms, nourished in community and at the table, we are sent out to proclaim the nearness of God’s kingdom. By God’s grace, we are sent out to join God in meeting the needs our neighbors, to love a hurting world, to speak peace and offer healing. 

After all, God’s mission has a church. We, God’s church, the priesthood of all believers, are a continuation, through the ages, of Jesus’ ministry. We bring our own energies and passions and gifts to the ever flowing and unfolding of God’s kingdom.

And the world we live in is hurting. The world we live in right now needs a word of good news and a word of healing. If we have been following the news at all, we see the hurt and the pain of those fighting for racial justice and equity. We see the fear and the pain of those whose loved ones are undergoing treatment or who have died from COVID-19. We see how the world keeps turning: natural disasters continue to threaten people and ecosystems, people we love receive medical diagnoses, and unjust laws are passed to disadvantage of the most vulnerable in our society. We look out into the world and see the same vulnerable, hurting people that Jesus sees. 

Church, this is the world we are called into to love and serve. Each one of us, by virtue of our baptism, is sent by Jesus into the world to speak peace. We are sent by Jesus, and in some sense to be sent by Jesus is to be sent as Jesus. “Our’s are the eyes through which Jesus looks compassion on this world”(Teresa of Avila). 

Jesus equipped and sent out Matthew, a tax collector. Tax collectors are not the most popular characters in the first century; they were Jewish people who worked on behalf of the Roman Empire. Jesus equipped and sent out Simon the Cananaean, a religious zealot who was likely a revolutionary actively opposing the rule of the Roman Empire. And finally, Jesus equipped and sent out Judas Iscariot, the one who would eventually betray him.

Pastors and deacons and other clergy type are not the only people with call stories. God has called each one of us by name and enlists us in caring for people by proclaiming the good news of God’s kingdom and offering a healing. Jesus isn’t waiting for you to be your ideal self before he sends you to love this world. Jesus isn’t waiting for you to be thinner or married or more stable or more spiritual or less of an addict before he calls you to speak peace into the hurting places of this world. Jesus is sending you, the actual you, the lovable and precious you into this world.

The sent-out life is inherently relational. And when we venture out, we learn very quickly that we rely on others rather than our own power or devices or equipment to proclaim the good news of God and offer healing. This can feel scary and intimidating. We don’t even get to take our Bibles with us! How will know what to say?  Jesus said: “Do not worry about how you are to speak, for it is not you who speak, but the Spirit of God the Father speaking through you…” (Matthew 10:20) Church, the Spirit of God goes ahead of us showing us the way. And it is the Spirit of God who will give us the words and the courage to look with compassion and speak peace.

Thanks be to God!

The GLOW SHOW: Episode Ten

In this final episode of this series on “Friendship Stories”, Pastor Sarah and Vicar Beth discuss the importance of openness and honesty in friendships. We hope that through these stories of friendship, you feel encouraged to reach out and make connections with others or deepen the connections you already have. Thank you for listening to this series! Click the play button below, and leave us your comments and questions right here on the blog. We’d love to hear from you.

Enjoy!

Caring for our refugee neighbors

A couple days ago, I attended a webinar hosted by Lutheran Social Services of the Southwest to learn more about how Covid-19 has impacted refugee families.  While I already knew that most refugees work in the service industry or other industries basically shut down by Covid-19 and that most refugees have been out of work at least temporarily, what I didn't know was that access to technology has been the most challenging barrier for refugee families.  All the resources available to people during this time are available online; even getting information about non-online resources is online.  Given that, if you would like to be of service to our refugee sisters and brothers, you are most welcome to donate gently used (and fully working) iPads and computers to Lutheran Social Services of the Southwest on Mondays or Tuesdays between 9:00 am and 1:00 pm at 2502 E University Drive, Suite 125, Phoenix.  If you would like to be partnered with a family so that you could provide wifi access for a particular number of months, please let me know you are interested.  LSS-SW is still figuring out how to make that happen best. 

One of the other needs of refugee families right now is hand soap and cleaning products as an EBT card (food stamps) does not allow these items.  Again, to donate, bring your items on Mondays or Tuesdays between 9:00 am and 1:00 pm to their Phoenix address: 2502 E University Drive, Phoenix.  If you have questions about donations to LSS-SW, please contact Jenny Tatum at jtatum@lss-sw.org or 480-450-0411.

"Curbside" Grace Room Service

“Curbside” Grace Room service will resume Monday, June 22, 9:00-10:30 am!  Those needing clothing and hygiene products are welcome to come to the northwest gate of the church any time during the distribution window to share sizes and particular needs with (masked, gloved) Grace Room volunteers. 

All Grace Room donations received will sit bagged and unopened for 14 days to ensure safety. 

Grieving Racism

This week marks 5 years since the shooting of 9 Bible study participants at an AME church in Charleston, South Carolina. On Wednesday, June 17, the ELCA is gathering virtually for a service of commemoration at noon Eastern time or 9:00 am Arizona time. The service will include leaders from around the ELCA and ecumenical partners, as well as a sermon by Presiding Bishop Elizabeth Eaton. We join in a time of repentance, mourning and prayer as we remember these nine martyrs and renounce the sins of racism and white supremacy. View the service at ELCA.org/EmanuelNine.

Our sister congregation, Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church at 12th Street and Glendale, will be holding a 30-minute outdoor vigil at 7:30 pm, also on Wednesday, June 17.  We gather to remember George Floyd and many other victims of racism and will sing, pray, and kneel in silence (as you are able) for 8 minutes and 46 seconds. Please wear a mask.

Finally, also on Wednesday, June 17 at 2:00 pm, all are welcome to a discussion of the film Just Mercy.  Based on the life work of Civil Rights Attorney Bryan Stevenson, this movie is a resource in helping those interested in learning more about the systematic racism that plagues our society. Please watch the movie prior to our discussion, which will be held via ZOOM (click here to register).

The film is available on several platforms for free all June. Click on this link:   https://www.justmercyfilm.com

Interfaith Prayer Vigil

Arizona Faith Network, of which the Grand Canyon Synod of the ELCA is a member, will offer a Virtual Interfaith Prayer Vigil for Global Health and Peace each Thursday in June, 7:00-8:00 pm.  Interfaith and community leaders throughout Arizona will offer prayers of strength, hope and healing. Together we will unite during these difficult times to remember those who have lost their lives, are ill, and are impacted due to COVID-19.  Special prayers, reflections, music and readings will be offered by diverse faith and community leaders.  RSVP at https://www.arizonafaithnetwork.org/ by scrolling down the homepage to Virtual Interfaith Prayer Vigil and clicking on "Please register." 
 

ELCA 101

For the next 2 weeks, you are invited to participate in a series called ELCA 101 about the church body of which Grace is a part. This is offered as a collaborative educational opportunity with other Lutherans in metro Phoenix via Zoom and will take place Thursdays, June 18, and 25 at 7:00 pm.  Here's the zoom link: https://us02web.zoom.us/j/82978115993?pwd=dmZSVFp1Yy9sSDJ1MUtpbHdKMnJyUT09

The GLOW SHOW: Episode Nine

We continue to explore the theme of friendship and 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 Tim and Chris, and their particular friendship story. Thank you, Tim and Chris for sharing with us the story of your friendship! Leave us your comments and questions right here on the blog. We’d love to hear from you.

Enjoy!

Sermon for Sunday, June 7

The early Christians who first articulated the doctrine of the Holy Trinity, that is, God, Jesus, and Spirit eternally co-existent and in relationship one with the others, were people who remembered the persecution of their sisters and brothers in faith in the not so distant past.  For three centuries, Christians built community in secret, prayed in secret, studied in secret.  Those who practiced their faith publicly were imprisoned, stoned, thrown to the lions, crucified.  A few years after Constantine declared Christianity the official religion of the Roman Empire, people of faith publicly gathered to debate and discuss the nature of God—a debate and discussion that produced, among other doctrine, the doctrine of the trinity.  This was no ivory tower, no theological conference among professional theologians, no heady intellectualism.  To those who gathered to debate and discuss, the nature of God mattered.  The doctrine of the trinity mattered deeply.  People—and not just a few people—had died to proclaim and pass on to the next generation the good news of God in Christ and the presence of the Holy Spirit in the world.  Perhaps most controversial, most powerful, most counter cultural was this: God did not deign to take a body.  God embraced a body in order to be with us in Jesus. 

Because the Greek ethos deeply influenced the Apostle Paul and other biblical writers, they articulated a Christian message that subjugated the body and lifted up the spirit, a dualism so ingrained in New Testament scripture and contemporary American life that we may not even realize there is a different way to view the world.  But the people of faith who gathered to debate and discuss the nature of God cast aside this dualistic view and instead declared God incarnate in the body of Jesus. 

God embraces a body, the body of Jesus who, like every other body, hungered and tired, yearned and ached.  At the very center of Jesus’ story is the story of his body, that he, his body, is delivered into the world at Christmas, that he, his body, fasts 40 days and encounters the tempter in the wilderness, that he, his body, is beaten and suffers and is crucified on Good Friday, that he, his body, is raised and transformed on Easter.  Christians disagree on many details of doctrine, but I think we all agree on this: that Jesus’ body matters.  Upon the ascension of Jesus’ body to the right hand of God, God pours the Holy Spirit upon all flesh.   On the day of Pentecost and in all the places and times the Holy Spirit appears in scripture, the Holy Spirit is incarnate, is embodied.  The Spirit doesn’t blow aimlessly but roots itself in the body of Christ and God’s beloved creation.  As Lutherans, we pray for and trust that the Spirit takes root in us on the day of our baptism, that the Spirit reveals itself through spiritual gifts and leads us in lives of faithfulness and love.  The Holy Spirit, who on this Sunday in particular we remember is the very same creator God, takes up residence in us.  Our bodies matter because God has poured out the Holy Spirit on our bodies, all bodies—according to the prophet Joel and Peter on the day of Pentecost. 

In these troubling days, when we witness across our country what I hope will lead to lasting change, when we witness yet another black body murdered without a conviction, without a trial, I pray that the doctrine of the Holy Trinity inspires us and leads us to say: Black lives matter.  Not that others’ lives don’t matter because, of course, every life matters, every body matters.  But in our beloved nation that strives to be a land of equality and opportunity and greatness, we continue to live in the stranglehold of racism.  I say stranglehold because racism is not just about what individuals say and do but about a system that is larger than any one of us.  Unfortunately, racism is so deeply embedded in US history that doing something other than unconsciously perpetuating it is difficult and requires much of us.  What exactly healing from racism requires, I’m honestly not sure, though I imagine it will be some combination of humility and listening, civic engagement and advocacy.  In the healing process, we will put our collective foot in our mouths.  I’m sure I will put my foot in my mouth.  We will make mistakes.  We will disagree about what constitutes racism and many other things.  We will move one step forward and three steps back. 

Some of us will be angry because we have been hurt for so long by racism, and some of us will be angry because we don’t agree with the analysis of the problem.  Why single out black bodies?  And what about good police officers, those who truly serve and protect?  And some of us will be ashamed because we know we haven’t done all we could to unpack our white privilege, and some of us will be confused because we thought we did all our work just to be told we aren’t ‘woke’ enough.  Some of us will be frustrated because we’ve been on the anti-racism train for a long time, just waiting for others to jump on board, and some of us will be sad because we just want all humanity to live in peace.  Some of us will be tired, tired of the same fight, over and over again.   No matter how much we stumble as we go about this healing process, no matter how we feel, today, I hear in scripture and in the theological tradition of this church God calling us to care for bodies because bodies matter.  And the collective sorrow of our nation is that black bodies have never mattered, at least not in the way white bodies have. 

I was in college when I first read the work of Audre Lorde, a poet who taught at New York University, an activist, a mom, a black women.  In both her prose and poetry, she was a powerful, articulate writer.  This week as we communally grieved the deaths of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and so many others, I have not been able to get Lorde’s words out of my head from a paper she wrote and delivered in 1980 about the different experiences of black and white women.  She wrote: “Some problems we share as women, some we do not.  You fear your children will grow up to join the patriarchy and testify against you, we fear our children will be dragged from a car and shot down in the street, and you will turn your backs upon the reasons they are dying.”  Dear friends in Christ, as we give thanks to God for meeting us in the body of Jesus and in us, the body of Christ, through the pouring out of the Holy Spirit, let us not turn our backs on the reasons black bodies are dying. 

On the only Sunday in the church year where we lift up a doctrine, the doctrine of the trinity surprises us with its relevance.  Almighty God showed up in the body of Jesus, shows up in the body of Christ, and having met God in the beloved bodies of humanity, the doctrine of the trinity sets us on a path towards healing.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.  

Sermon for Sunday, May 31

You know that feeling when you get in the passenger side of a car with a driver you’re not sure you trust?  How you anxiously and immediately buckle your seatbelt?  How you helpfully inform the driver of upcoming red lights and cars in their path?  How you continuously scan the roadway, clutching whatever is handy?  How you discover you weren’t breathing when you pull into a parking space and finally draw a full, deep breath?  When we are passengers in a vehicle, we don’t control what the driver does, what the car does, what the traffic does.  We are simply along for the ride, maybe picking music, consulting the maps app, or making lively conversation. 

On this Pentecost Sunday, 9 days after Jesus’ ascension, though Jesus had instructed them that the Holy Spirit would come down, I imagine the disciples felt the pressure, the vacuum of a post-Jesus world.  I imagine they assumed they had better get to work, that they had better get on with ministry similar to that of Jesus.  If we read Acts chapter one, we learn that the disciples had no idea what that meant, though.  They appear to be stalling, to be stuck, to be…well, the same witless disciples we met in the gospels Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.  Thanks be to God that the Holy Spirit swoops in as wind, like fire, and through language.  Filled with the Holy Spirit, the disciples open their mouths and out comes the good news of Jesus in languages they had never spoken.  Filled with the Holy Spirit, Peter stands and raises his voice and quotes the prophet Joel proclaiming the outpouring of the Spirit upon all flesh, sons and daughters, young and old, enslaved and free.

As humans do, for the nine days between Jesus’ ascension and the day of Pentecost, the disciples likely assume they are in the driver’s seat of this ministry in a post-Jesus world, but they are wrong.  They are simply along for the ride, traveling in the direction that the Holy Spirit drives them.  They contribute, for sure.  Once the Spirit fills them, they don’t run for the hills like Jonah or ask to sit at God’s right hand in the kingdom like they did earlier in the gospels.  If you’ve been watching our Daily Meditations throughout the season of Easter, where we have been reading through the book of Acts, you already know that the disciples really do get up and follow the call of the Spirit.  They share the good news.  They heal people.  They forgive sins.  They baptize with abandon.  They empower new leaders within the early Christian community.  They’re on it.  Filled with the Holy Spirit, they do what God wants done in the world.  But equally obvious in the book of Acts is the fact that they are only on it because the Holy Spirit fills them.

We, the body of Christ, have also received the Holy Spirit at Holy Baptism.  Collectively, the Spirit fills the church on earth, empowering us to do together what we could not do alone.  We might think ourselves the drivers, but we depend on the Spirit to drive us.  Our own agendas, our own plans and ideas, our own attempts to do the work of God fall, sadly, flat.  When we seek out the direction of the Holy Spirit in prayer, when we relentlessly ask for the Spirit’s guidance, when the Holy Spirit drives us, we get where God wants us to go.

I am not a good passenger.  I was only able to describe the feeling of anxious passenger in a car because that is actually what happens for me when someone else drives.  I like control and struggle to give it up even when someone I love and trust who absolutely will do everything they can to keep me safe is driving.  I do a little better trusting the Holy Spirit but only because I have seen time and time again that the Spirit works.  In maybe year 10 of ordained ministry, after doing all I could to control situations, after dotting every ‘I’ and crossing every ‘t,’ after doing my homework and preparing for meetings, I learned to say: The Spirit will work.  And of course, then, once I am out of the way, the Spirit does…work!  The Spirit working is not my choice.  The Spirit doesn’t answer to me.  The Spirit blows where and how it wills.

Where the Spirit blows, a way is made, a way for acts of justice and forgiveness and grace, a way for community that not only tolerates diversity but celebrates it.  How else do we, people of Grace, account for the ministry we are able to do with so few people and so little funds?  Collectively, we are recipients of incredible generosity, and each one of us, each one of us contributes valuably to our life together.  But we would not be here still, in the city for good, if we were not already filled with the Holy Spirit, if we had not allowed the Spirit to drive our mission.   

The same is true of the ELCA and ELCA-affiliated institutions with our vast array of hunger, relief, public health, education, human service, advocacy, and faith formation programs both in the US and abroad through which we educate, raise up leaders, provide health care, build sustainable food systems and clean water resources, deliver aid to refugee camps and domestic disasters, resettle refugees, care for our elders in their homes, and many other acts of justice and grace.  Really, how is this possible?  We do it, yes, we get on board.  But this is the work of the Holy Spirit in us, through us, for the sake of the world God loves! 

In these days when Covid-19 continues to plague us, when police brutality continues, when those in power abuse that power, when we are staring a climate crisis in the face, we wonder: what are we to do?  On this day of Pentecost, we might instead wonder: what is the Holy Spirit already doing, and how can we get on board?  We might be anxious like a passenger in a car, having no control of where we go.  But the good news is, people of God, the Holy Spirit is the driver.  If we allow the Spirit to drive us, to set our course, we might be surprised where we end up.  We might be uncomfortable, but we, like those on the first Pentecost, will be amazed and astonished and discover God’s own purpose.  For the Spirit, for its presence in our lives, for the ways it drives and compels us, we say: thanks be to God!  Amen.     

The GLOW SHOW: Episode Eight

We continue to explore the theme of friendship and 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 us, Vicar Beth and Pastor Sarah, about negotiating in friendship and ending friendships. Leave us your comments and questions right here on the blog! We’d love to hear from you.

Enjoy!

Suggested Bible Readings for June

Suggested Bible Readings for June

June 7 (The Holy Trinity)

First Reading: Genesis 1:1-2:4a

Psalm: Psalm 8

Gospel: Matthew 28:16-20

June 14 (Pentecost 2)

First Reading: Romans 5:1-8

Psalm: Psalm 100

Gospel: Matthew 9:35-10:8

June 21 (Pentecost 3)

First Reading: Romans 6:1b-11

Psalm: Psalm 69:7-10[11-15]16-18

Gospel: Matthew 10:24-39

June 28 (Pentecost 4)

First Reading: Romans 6:12-23

Psalm: Psalm 89:1-4, 15-18

Gospel: Matthew 10:40-42