The GLOW Show: Theological ABCs on Original Sin & Sin

During fall 2021, we explore Theological ABCs from a Lutheran perspective! Each week, we define and discuss the words that shape our faith and their meanings. Today, with the assistance of the now-Pastor Beth Gallen, we lift up O for Original Sin & Sin!

Sermon for Sunday, September 26

Day of the Church Year: 18th Sunday after Pentecost

Scripture Passage: Mark 9:38-50

You may remember that, last October, I stumbled and fell while running.   I limped home, and after I cleaned and bandaged my knees, I faced the reality that I couldn’t actually walk very well.  More accurately, I couldn’t easily bend my knees.  So, I struggled up the one step from the welcome mat on my front patio to inside my home, certainly couldn’t walk up the stairs to the sanctuary, and could hardly get up and off the couch the first few days.  I actually stumbled on a Sunday morning, so this generous community understood when I had to livestream my sermon from home and cancel that morning’s Walk-Up Holy Communion.  My stumble impacted all of us, not just me. 

In today’s Jesus story, Jesus warns the disciples: If any of you put a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea.  He then goes on to describe, with dramatic hyperbole, severe recommendations for those whose hands, feet, or eyes cause them to stumble.  Cut off your hand.  Cut off the offending foot.  Tear out your eye.  For it is better to enter life lame than to go to hell, Jesus says.  Lutheran preachers all over the world today are saying: Heavens.  Really, Jesus?  I want you to know that Jesus truly does speak in metaphor and hyperbole here.  For instance, the word that is translated “hell” in this passage is actually the name of a valley south of Jerusalem where people dumped their garbage.  Over time, this valley became so despised and was considered so disgusting that ancient people referred to this valley, to this dump as hell.  In other words, Jesus encourages his disciples to rid themselves of toxic elements so that their whole bodies would not end up in the garbage heap, perhaps like cheese that has grown moldy on one side.  Instead of throwing the whole, lovely chunk of cheese into the garbage, we can instead cut off simply the moldy parts and enjoy the rest.  

We might read this passage casually and assume that Jesus advocates a moral standard that is well familiar to us.  You do something wrong, and you get punished.  Because it’s the Bible, we might assume the punishment is eternal, not just temporal.  But I invite us into a more complex reading of this Jesus story. 

Jesus begins his teaching by discouraging the disciples from putting a stumbling block before a vulnerable follower of Jesus.  But instead of describing intentional acts of sabotage of others, Jesus speaks of activities that cause us to stumble, that cause us harm for he recommends: “If your hand causes you to stumble, cut it off.”  Jesus speaks not of someone else’s hand, not of someone else’s sins but our own, mistakes and mis-steps that impact us.  While these stumbling blocks make our lives difficult, they also create stumbling blocks for others.  Because what we do in the world creates a ripple, like a stone thrown into a lake.  The stone enters the lake at one particular place, but the ripple in the water extends far beyond.  Imagine someone—and it’s probably not too hard—who has trouble identifying and processing their emotions, someone who is easily provoked by someone else’s mindless comments, someone who is having a bad day and doesn’t have anyone to talk to about it.  And then imagine that person getting behind the wheel of a car.  Sure, that person who is struggling with their emotions is angry and also hurt and maybe sad, maybe overwhelmed, maybe exhausted.  But when they get behind the wheel of a car, they drive in ways that impact not just them but everyone else on the road.

If we tend to our own health and wholeness, to our own growth and development and thereby let go of whatever is toxic within us, that affects others in positive ways.  If we neglect our own health and wholeness, if we neglect our own growth and development and allow toxicity to grow within us, that also affects others.  It creates stumbling blocks that may have real and sometimes serious consequences.     

In many ways, Jesus’ teaching is refreshing for aren’t we all wondering these days: What can I do to make a difference in this upsidedown world?  According to Jesus, our lives make a difference regardless of what we do; what is up for grabs is what kind of difference: a life-giving difference or a stumbling block-creating difference. 

Living in community is not a choice.  Whether that community is Grace or our workplace, our school or our neighborhood, our nation or our world, what we do impacts our community. What we do affects others, either in life-giving or stumbling block-creating ways.  What we do affects others, whether or not we intend it.  There are few private choices, friends, but instead mostly public ones with public consequences...or at least, that’s the way Jesus seems to see the world.  Throughout the gospels, Jesus rejects narrow moralism and instead commands the disciples and us to seek the common good—to seek what is good for the neighbor, the stranger, the world.  And wouldn’t you know, what is good for the neighbor, the stranger, and the world is good for us too.

Jesus loves the neighbor, the stranger, the world.  Jesus loves us.  The command to cut off the toxic parts of ourselves is not a command coming from a fierce God but from a wise and gentle savior who sees how we struggle and wants to free us from all that would make us and others stumble.  For this wise and radical love, we can say: Thanks be to God!  Amen.

Cursillo & Tirosh Release Party

After years of joyous involvement in Cursillo & Tirosh, our Parish Representatives Donna Martin and Fran Fry have learned that Cursillo is significantly changing. With the change, they have discerned, along with Pastor Sarah, that we are no longer feel called to take part in the Cursillo & Tirosh community. Individuals are most welcome to participate in ongoing activities if they would like, but as a community, we will no longer have Parish Representatives and no longer sponsor new participants. In order to bring closure to many years of faith-forming weekends, all who have participated in Cursillo & Tirosh throughout the years are welcomed and encouraged to join us at a Cursillo & Tirosh Release Party on Sunday, October 10 at 9:45 am in the Sanctuary. We will tell stories, give thanks to God, and sing alleluia to the Lord!

Noche en Blanco

As one of the organizations surrounding Hance Park, Grace is part of the Hance Park Conservancy. Each year, the Hance Park Conservancy puts on a fundraiser for park improvement called Noche en Blanco or, literally, White Night. Noche en Blanco brings together people from around the community but especially those who love our neighborhood for a beautiful and elaborate picnic in Hance Park, with lights, live music, good food, and every guest dressed in white. Funds raised are separate from the Hance Park Master Plan; the Conservancy itself determines how these funds are used to improve the quality of the park.

This year’s Noche en Blanco is Saturday, October 30, 5:00-10:00 pm. You may book your table or find more information at Hance Park Conservancy announces the sixth annual “Noche en Blanco” multicultural community dinner — Hance Park Conservancy Phoenix. Tables with food provided must be purchased by October 15.

This year, Grace is helping sponsor the event at the level of “community stakeholder.”

The GLOW Show: Theological ABCs on Love

During fall 2021, we explore Theological ABCs from a Lutheran perspective! Each week, we define and discuss the words that shape our faith and their meanings. Today, with the assistance of the now-Pastor Beth Gallen, we lift up L for love!

Sermon for Sunday, September 19

Day of the Church Year: 17th Sunday after Pentecost

Scripture Passage: Mark 9:30-37

I invite you to open your Bibles to Mark 8.

Once again today, Jesus teaches the disciples what it means for him to be the messiah: that he will be betrayed, die, and rise again. Even though he teaches this lesson three times in the gospel of Mark, the disciples never understand. If you flip to Mark 8:31-38, you’ll recognize last week’s gospel. What’s the first thing Peter does after hearing about Jesus’ upcoming death and resurrection? Rebukes him because he doesn’t want Jesus to die. In today’s gospel, if you flip to Mark 9:30-37, what’s the first thing the disciples do after hearing about Jesus’ death and resurrection? They argue about who is the greatest. If we look forward to Mark 10:32-40 where Jesus again teaches them about his upcoming death and resurrection, what are James and John’s first words? Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you. And what do they want him to do for them? They want to sit one at his right and one at his left in his glory.

The disciples, fundamentally, do not understand the nature of Jesus’ reign as messiah. They’re consumed with power and glory and avoiding pain, but Jesus walks right into betrayal and suffering and death and each time speaks about humility and service. Humility and service as the essence of Jesus’ reign, humility and service as the way Jesus exercises his power. Amusingly, in today’s gospel, the disciples argue about who is the greatest. Is that up for debate? Isn’t Jesus the greatest? I wonder what criteria they are using to discern who the greatest is, such that they fail to see Jesus’ greatness. And I wonder what criteria we use to determine who the greatest is in our culture. What are your thoughts? How do we determine who the greatest is? In both worship services, we discussed how the world defines greatness through wealth and material possessions, prestige and popularity.

Jesus ends the disciples’ argument about greatness by embracing a child and telling them: Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me. The call here, to be clear, is not that the disciples become like children but that they welcome children. Contrary to our own cultural norms, in the ancient world, children lived with the least status of any group of people. While the disciples are wondering who the greatest is, Jesus embraces a child who, in their eyes, is least and littlest and most vulnerable, and says: the greatest one among you will embrace this one. The greatest one among you will, in this honor / shame culture, accept the shame that will be brought onto you by embracing this child. The greatest one among you doesn’t care about your status at all. For whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.

Greatness is about power, and so, Jesus upends the nature of power. When he tells the disciples that he will be betrayed, die, and rise again, he’s teaching them about his power. When he allows the Syro-Phoenician woman to challenge his prejudice, he’s showing the disciples what power looks like—like admitting when you’re wrong. When he dares to put his hands in the ears of a deaf man to restore his hearing, Jesus is showing all who care to see what power looks like—like using your gifts for the sake of another’s healing. When he somehow multiplies the loaves and fish, he’s showing the crowd what power looks like—like tending the basic needs of God’s whole people.

Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all, Jesus says, like me. To the rest of the world then and now, power and service are opposites. But to Jesus, they are one in the same. He is everyone’s servant and calls the disciples and calls us to a similar way of life. It’s not simply that powerful people serve others; it’s also that those who serve all exercise great power, the power of the Holy Spirit.

For the skeptics among us who wonder: can’t humility and this service business get out of hand? I suppose. But to be humble does not mean denying our own gifts and skills and beauty. And I don’t think Jesus means we are to lack boundaries. Even Jesus escaped the crowd to pray and delegated responsibility to the disciples to do his ministry. We cannot and, in my view, should not do everything everyone asks of us. Sometimes, people ask us to do things that are not in the interest of the common good, not aligned with the mission of the church or our workplace, not consistent with our own sense of integrity. There are very real ethical trade-offs with nearly every decision we make. Still, the posture of humility is critical to understanding Jesus’ reign as messiah and our call to follow Jesus. If we have in our heads a ladder of power and greatness and see ourselves on a higher rung than others and if we thus ignore certain people and issues of justice in our world, like the disciples, we have not understood the nature of Jesus’ reign as messiah.

The good news of a messiah who comes as servant of all is that we get served. We get loved. We get forgiven and seen and accepted just as we are. Whether or not we exercise power through service, Jesus still serves and loves us—because that’s what true power looks like. Thanks be to God! Amen.

Story Circles

During the month of October, we are engaged in our annual stewardship appeal whose theme is “My Story / Our Story.” This year, we focus on how our giving in many forms contributes not just to us and our lives but to our communal life and the common good. As part of the stewardship appeal, we invite all who are interested to participate in story circles. Story circles simply give us an opportunity to share our story uninterrupted in response to a prompt—and to listen to others’ stories as well.

Story Circles

Wednesdays, October 20 & 27 @ 6:30 pm

Via Zoom

Please RSVP to Nicole Gallen at thegallens08@gmail.com no later than 5 days prior to each story circle to ensure enough facilitators. Your Zoom link will be sent out when you RSVP.

The GLOW Show: Theological ABCs on the Law

During fall 2021, we explore Theological ABCs from a Lutheran perspective! Each week, we will define and discuss the words that shape our faith and their meanings. Today, we lift up L for the law!

Sermon for Sunday, September 12

Day of the Church Year: Pentecost 16B2021

Scripture Passage: Mark 8:27-38

I have compassion for Peter this morning.  After Peter correctly identifies that Jesus is the messiah, Jesus tells Peter and the rest of the disciples about his upcoming suffering, rejection, death, and resurrection.  Understandably, Peter doesn’t seem to hear the resurrection part, but he’s super clear on the death part.  And he doesn’t want Jesus to go through it, so Peter rebukes Jesus.  In turn, Jesus calls Peter Satan and rebukes him right back.  Not Peter’s finest hour.  To add insult to injury, Jesus then instructs the disciples to deny themselves, take up their cross, and follow him, to go where Jesus goes.  So, you can see why I have compassion for Peter this morning...because who wants to follow a messiah who is going to suffer, be rejected, and die?  If you didn’t already know where I was going with this and had the choice in front of you: Who would you rather follow? A. a successful, brilliant leader or B. a rejected criminal who receives the death penalty, I’m guessing most of us would go for option A, the successful, brilliant leader.  Of course we would. 

Honestly, though I preach and teach about Jesus on the regular, I somehow still have managed to avoid really taking it in that the One we follow was convicted as a criminal, received punishment as a criminal, and was rejected by everyone except for a handful of women who stayed near the cross.  I have managed to avoid thinking about Jesus being actually quite dirty from his ministry travels where he was, in effect, homeless.  In my head, I skip over these unsavory and gritty details and move right to the lovely parts of his radical love and wise teaching about non-violence and the kingdom of God.  But Peter’s rebuke of Jesus and Jesus’ corresponding rebuke remind me this morning that Jesus and the literal, historical path he followed was pretty grimy.  He was touching people who were sick, making mud with his spit, and in constant close quarters with the crowds seeking healing.  You and I may be here at church on Sunday morning looking for a shiny messiah, but that’s not the one we have.

That’s not all.  Jesus instructs the disciples and us to follow him.  So it’s not just Jesus who will be grimy.  Jesus’ disciples were probably equally odorous and grubby—because they were doing many of the same things Jesus was doing.  No wonder Peter protested.  And Peter especially didn’t want to end up on a cross.  He didn’t want to suffer.  He didn’t want to be rejected.  Who wants that?  But that, apparently, is the way of Jesus. 

We are so accustomed to following shiny, successful people, people who fit the conventions of success in our world.  But the reality is that Jesus was not shiny, and he was not successful by any measure we would use in our world, with the exception of Jesus’ extraordinary wisdom.  He was not wealthy.  He was not respected by the people who mattered.  He didn’t follow important social conventions about the sabbath and who and who not to touch and talk to.  We see him as a sinless, perfect god-human, but he brought shame to his family.  Sure, he was popular—with the unpopular people, with the sick people, with the poor people, but even with those who followed him, he was only popular when he was healing and feeding them.  Once he got to cross, where’d everybody go?

Right about now in my sermon preparation, I was wondering: Wow.  Why do I follow Jesus?  And: he really is a different kind of messiah than we expect.

A messiah is one who leads and saves, and if a messiah is to lead and save, at the very least, he has to be alive, in power, and popular enough for people to follow.  But our messiah, Jesus, takes up a cross and denies himself and tells us to do the same, to follow him into suffering and rejection and death.   

I still can’t quite articulate why Jesus is so compelling to me when he invites us to follow him into suffering and rejection and death.  All I know is that, when I deny myself, when I make my life about others and not about me, when I take up the cross and joyously use my time to contribute to my community, life is better.  Way better.  For me.  Ironically.  When I give up trying to be popular and shiny, when I stop trying to please people and instead focus on just having integrity, sure, some people reject me, but others are drawn to that kind of authenticity.  The same is true for communities—like Grace.  When we focus less on trying to offer perfect programs, when we give up pleasing everyone, which we can’t really do anyway, we are freed to welcome all people, to serve one another through the pancake breakfast and heat respite, by providing rides for a neighbor who needs it and teaching and befriending kids, by doing our part to contribute to this community—whether it’s serving as a liaison to breakfast serving crews, mowing the lawn, vacuuming the carpet, singing in the band or choir, reading scripture during worship, or any number of other things.  We’re not perfect people, but because we deny ourselves and take up the cross, life is better.  For us.  For our whole community.

Today, I have compassion for Peter who wanted to help Jesus avoid all that was gritty and unsavory and downright painful.  I get it.  Somehow, in a way I don’t completely understand, when we look suffering and rejection and death in the face, when we let go of making our lives the way we want and stop focusing on us, something happens.  Seriously, it has got to be God at work.  Of course, it is.  For when Jesus looks suffering and rejection and death in the face, when he walks the way of the cross, what he finds at the end of that path is resurrection, new life.  We do too. Jesus says: Deny yourselves and take up your cross and follow me.  For those who save their lives will lose them, but those who lose their lives for my sake and for the sake of the gospel will save them.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.