Sermon for Sunday, October 31

Day of the Church Year: Reformation Sunday

Scripture Passage: John 8:31-38

In the 15 years I have served as a pastor, I have been hesitant to encourage people to tell the truth.  Perhaps you think this strange because, of course, people who value integrity generally consider truth telling a key strategy for integrity.  I do. But telling the truth, knowing the truth, hearing the truth can be quite hard, and sometimes, we don’t want to live with the consequences of the truth.  There is practical truth: this happened, he said this, she said this, on this day and time.  Especially in this present moment, when we gather such truth from social media and news articles and opinion pieces—whose rigor in verifying information varies, shall we say, this type of truth can be difficult to discern.  There is scientific truth: over the course of decades or even centuries, we come to learn through experiment and study our best understanding of the laws of the universe—and expect that, as our knowledge grows, scientific truth will change.  There is emotional truth: how we feel, why we do what we do, truth that changes sometimes moment to moment.  There is theological truth: who and what God is, truth that is deep and wide, truth we cannot fully comprehend.  Telling the truth, knowing the truth, hearing the truth seems simple, but so many of us don’t like hearing the truth if the truth doesn’t square with the story we’ve been telling ourselves—about our childhoods, about why we made the choices we did, about whose fault or responsibility something really is.  Most of us would probably defend not telling the truth if it involves information we believe would hurt other people.  Instead, we tell so-called white lies to avoid hurting others, because we assume others can’t handle the truth, or maybe just because we don’t want to be uncomfortable.  We may even avoid certain truths and keep them hidden long-term, afraid of what would happen if we spoke of them. 

Years ago, I sat with a large family at a long table in a restaurant on a day of celebration.  The men in the family sat at one end of the table, the women at the other.  Gathered at my end of the table were several sisters, all in their late 40s to early 60s, along with their daughters.  I don’t recall what started the conversation, but at one point, one of the sisters commented about how their father had assaulted her.  And one by one, these women turned to each other saying: You too?  Yeah, me too.  You were assaulted?  I watched and listened in awe as these sisters spoke the truth they had been silently carrying with them since their childhood, three or four or even five decades before.  They had never spoken of these offenses before, even to each other, until that moment.  Each of these sisters knew the truth of her own assault, but until they shared it, none of these sisters knew the larger truth: that the assault was not their fault, that their father’s actions could not take away their dignity, that they did not deserve or in any way provoke such acts.  Most of all, telling the truth revealed to them that, all along, they had not been alone. 

Truth is tricky.  In the case of this family, telling the truth about the acts of their father brought deeper connection and freedom to these women, but of course, we could probably all tell stories of truth told awry.  How and when we tell, the reason we tell, who we tell...these are not insignificant details.  Thus, why I have hesitated encouraging people to tell the truth. 

Yet every Reformation Sunday, we hear Jesus’ words from the gospel of John: If you continue in my word, you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.  Jesus shares these words with the Jewish leaders, and they are flummoxed.  They quite humorously respond: We are descendants of Abraham and have never been slaves to anyone. What do you mean by saying, ‘You will be made free’?”  Remember that the Jewish people were literally enslaved by the Pharaoh of Egypt for 400 years during the time of the biblical book Exodus, and the Jewish people were held captive hundreds of years later by the Babylonians.  Responding to Jesus this way, it seems that the Jewish leaders no longer spoke amongst themselves of these difficult eras in their common history.  Perhaps they didn’t want to remember the shame of their ancestors’ enslavement even though it was no fault of their ancestors.  Perhaps speaking of themselves as descendants of slaves didn’t square with the stories they told themselves about who they were.  Perhaps they felt uneasy about how the ancient Jewish people began intermarrying with the enemy Babylonians, so they avoided the subject altogether.  Whatever their reason, the Jewish leaders apparently don’t recall that their ancestors had indeed been enslaved, and Jesus implies that they still are--enslaved.  For they don’t remember their enslavement—or how God freed them in the Exodus and comforted them at the end of the Babylonian Exile.  The truth, no matter how complex, Jesus says, makes you free.        

In 1517 when Martin Luther posted his 95 Theses on the door of the Wittenberg castle church, he had decided to tell the truth.  As a monk in the Roman Catholic Church, Luther had devoted himself to the traditions of the church, to the scriptures, to the pope.  Perhaps we imagine Luther a gleeful reformer, joyously pointing out the indiscretions of his colleagues and superiors, proclaiming the truth of corruption with full confidence.  That would come later, actually; Luther became quite verbose and vivid in his critique of the Roman Catholic Church.  But prior to 1517, Luther was sad.  He couldn’t make sense of his church telling lies in order to exploit the common people of Germany, in order to make money for the building of St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome.  The truth Luther uncovered in a sadly corrupt church brought freedom for him—to praise God for God’s grace in his sins, to preach and lead worship and read Scripture in German, instead of in Latin, to sing God’s praise joyously in hymnody, to serve God’s people humbly.  Luther’s discovery of the truth of God’s grace freed the people too, the people who had been enslaved to notions of purgatory and indulgences, people who had feared eternal damnation if they failed in their religious requirements, people who trembled at the consequences of their sins.  Luther’s discovery of the truth of God’s grace brought freedom even to the Roman Catholic Church itself.  One part of the Reformation story we Lutherans rarely tell is that, eventually, the Roman Catholic Church went through its own reformation. 

Truth is tricky.  Telling the truth sometimes leads to reformation, sometimes to pain, but Jesus teaches: If you continue in my word, you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.

Sermon for Sunday, October 24

Day of the Church Year: 22nd Sunday after Pentecost

Scripture Passage: Mark 10:46-52

For weeks, we have read stories of Jesus’ disciples and would-be followers who don’t get it.  Stories of people who say they want to follow Jesus but can’t stomach the way of Jesus.  Stories about the challenges of following Jesus...James and John telling Jesus they want to sit at his right and left hand in his glory, Jesus telling a rich man to sell his possessions and give the money to the poor—something the rich man doesn’t want to do, and Jesus warning the disciples about being stumbling blocks to others. 

And then, today, while Jesus is walking along the way, on his way to Jerusalem, a man who is blind, who begs for money and thus his survival, who hears that Jesus is passing by, cries out to him.  Because Jesus is surrounded by a crowd, Bartimaeus yells a couple of times: Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.  The disciples, along with members of the crowd, shush Bartimaeus, but Jesus says: Call him here!  The disciples deliver Jesus’ message to Bartimaeus, and when Bartimaeus stands before Jesus, Jesus asks him: What do you want me to do for you?  Bartimaeus wants to see.  Jesus declares: “Your faith has made you well.”  Immediately, he sees and follows Jesus on the way. 

The irony of the story is that Bartimaeus sees, truly sees who Jesus is.  He sees that Jesus is the Son of David, the one in the line of the greatest king of Israel.  When called by Jesus and his disciples, he throws off his cloak, his most valuable possession, springs up, and comes to Jesus.  The rich man went away sad when Jesus told him to give up his possessions, but Bartimaeus doesn’t give a second thought to his most valuable possession.  Though physically blind, Bartimaeus springs up and comes to Jesus, so strong is the call.  And when Jesus restores the vision of Bartimaeus, without being invited, without being commanded, Bartimaeus follows Jesus.  Finally, after weeks of confusion and challenge, here we have the picture of a follower, a disciple, a person of faith.  Bartimaeus. 

Perhaps you have not heard this story before.  I’m sure I’ve read it at least once, but to tell you the truth, I was surprised when I turned to the lectionary this week and found this story.  I quickly skimmed it and thought: Who is this?  Have I ever read this before?  The lectionary is the series of biblical passages we read in worship along with many other Christian communities around the world.  Usually, the fourth Sunday in October is Reformation Sunday, and we would normally read the special Reformation lectionary readings.  But this year, we get 5 Sundays in October with Reformation Sunday the fifth Sunday instead of the fourth.  Thus, we haven’t read this story in worship for several years.  All of this to say: Bartimaeus is unknown to us just as he is unknown by Jesus and the disciples.  In the gospel of Mark, the disciples and would-be followers of Jesus consistently misunderstand Jesus, are challenged by the radical nature of Jesus’ teaching, and turn away instead of continuing to follow him.  But Bartimaeus, a man blind and poor and unknown is the picture of discipleship, one who follows immediately, throwing off whatever impedes him, overcoming challenges like the grumpy, noisy crowd.  Bartimaeus sees Jesus for who he is and follows.   

The gospel of Mark has always amused me in this way.  In the gospel of Mark, the people Jesus commends are consistently the ones the disciples tell Jesus not to talk to, the people the disciples tell Jesus to avoid: Bartimaeus, the Syro-Phoenician woman, the woman who touches the hem of his robe whose long-time hemorrhage ceases.  These are the people who have faith, according to Jesus.  These are the unworthy people, according to the disciples. 

You don’t need me to stand here and tell you that categories of worthy and unworthy simply do not apply to people.  You know.  The crowd and the disciples shush Bartimaeus, but Jesus hears him cry out, calls him, even declares he is healed by his faith.  Jesus does the same with the Syro-Phoenician woman and with the woman who touches his cloak and is healed of her hemorrhage.  The point is not that these people are more worthy because they have faith.  The point is not that they are greater than all the others who struggled to understand Jesus’ message.  The point is not even that Bartimaeus and others see Jesus for who he is while many cannot or do not.  The point is that all types of people follow Jesus.  We come from different nations, different races and ethnicities.  We come, women and men and transgender.  We come straight and queer.  We come from different socio-economic classes and with different experiences in education and employment.  We come from various parts of the political spectrum.  We come with a wide variety of life experiences.  We come from different Christian and maybe even non-Christian traditions.  We come certain about God, with questions for God, or maybe not even sure there is a God.  All types of people follow Jesus, and the only one who calls us to follow Jesus is Jesus.  The only one who decides if we are welcome on his way is Jesus.  And I gotta tell ya: It appears that, according to Jesus, categories of worthy and unworthy simply do not apply to people.  If the last four weeks of lectionary readings teach us nothing else, it’s that Jesus calls us to follow—if we are living with a disability or in poverty like Bartimaeus, if we are wealthy like the rich man, if we are confused and greedy for power like the disciples, if we unintentionally create stumbling blocks for others.  Whatever we’ve got goin’ on, whatever obstacles stand in our way, Jesus hears us, sees us, and calls us.  Thanks be to God!  Amen. 

The GLOW Show: Theological ABCs on Sanctification

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, we lift up S for sanctification with Grace member Ursula Osburn.

Phoenix Fusion Hike

Now that the weather is lovely again, let's meet other valley Lutherans for a hike! Join us on Tuesday, November 2 at 5:15 pm at South Mountain. We'll meet just beyond the welcome hut at the entrance of the park on Central.

The GLOW Show: Theological ABCs on Salvation

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, we lift up S for salvation!

Reaching Out to Downtown Phoenix Residents

Downtown Phoenix is full of new residents! In order to reach out to our neighbors, at our most recent Quarterly Pizza & Ministry Night, we discussed ideas to facilitate connection. If you are interested in helping form any of the following, please speak with Pastor Sarah (pastorsarah@graceinthecity.com, 602-318-6876).

Theology Pub/Theology on Tap

Community Service Small Group (we’d think of a better name)

Community Meal for ASU & U of A Students

We will move forward as the Spirit leads us, and the Spirit might be working through you!

Sermon for Sunday, October 17

Day of the Church Year: 21st Sunday after Pentecost

Scripture Passage: Mark 10:35-45

My senior year of high school, I along with three other seniors, were voted Most Likely To Succeed.  In my small Minnesota high school, all of the people who were voted into various categories, categories like Most Artistic, Funniest, Best Car, were photographed for the school yearbook.  Traditionally, the students who were voted Most Likely To Succeed headed down to the school cafeteria kitchen, put on hairnets and plastic gloves, and pretended to wash dishes for the photo shoot.  I was on the yearbook staff, and I remember chuckling at what I thought at the time was an ironic and humorous photo—people washing dishes as people who have succeeded.  (It’s so horrible, I know.)  So, as per usual, the four of us who were voted Most Likely To Succeed made our way to the school cafeteria kitchen and were just looking around for props when one of the women who had worked in the cafeteria for decades greeted us and asked what we were doing in the kitchen.  As we stood looking at her and wondering how to respond, it was one of those moments of realization, shame, and remorse.  We mumbled something about the yearbook photo, and she asked us, quite rightly, “Do you realize how disrespectful that is—to imply that people who serve school lunch and wash dishes have not succeeded?”  We quickly put away our props, walked out of the kitchen, and took the photo in the boardroom where the school board met. 

I still cringe when I think about this episode, 24 years later.  I grew up in a family where we prioritized service above all things.  My parents were actively resettling refugees, serving on the food shelf and public library boards, and helping in many and various ways in our church community.  My dad served as pastor of our church, my mom a social worker in DSC and then in a women’s domestic violence shelter.  Still, I didn’t get it.  I didn’t get that service lies at the heart of a Christian life and is its glory, whether that’s volunteering or in our daily work.  The women who served in our school cafeteria got up every morning to ensure that the large portion of students in my school who qualified for free and reduced lunch also got to eat breakfast—in order to be ready for a day of learning.  These women who served in our school cafeteria were indispensable members of the school staff who made learning possible and helped prevent malnourishment among the student body.

In today’s Jesus story, James and John request: Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask.  Which is just humorous to start off with.  Jesus plays along.  What is it you want me to do for you? He asks.  They want to sit one at his right hand and one at his left in his glory.  Their bravado in making this request makes me laugh.  They think they can drink the cup Jesus drinks and be baptized with the baptism of Jesus too.  Jesus tells them the right to sit at his left and right is not his to grant and then teaches them: Whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all.  “Glory” in Jesus’ eyes is not power, prestige, or honor.  “Glory” is serving, caring for another, humility. 

And we know it, right?  When we have spent an hour or a morning or a lifetime serving others, we love it.  Thinking back on the youth and young adult mission trips of years past, what we loved were not the sights we saw so much as the service projects we completed.  Sure, we went to a Broadway show in New York City, but what we loved was volunteering at the needle exchange.  Sure, we saw the Lincoln Memorial, the Vietnam Memorial, the Smithsonian in DC, but what we loved was DC Central Kitchen, chopping vegetables.  Sure, we got to freeze in our unheated cabins in an Oregon June, but what we loved was getting our hands dirty in the community garden and pulling apart used computers for recycling.                    

The joyous high points of our lives are often not the moments of power and prestige and honor but the moments of service and love.  In our families, caring for young children, raising the next generation.  In our jobs when we get to contribute to our community or to the lives of particular people.  In our volunteering at heat respite or caring for this property or assisting with worship leadership or making breakfast on a Sunday morning.  We may or may not receive adulation for our service, commendation from our boss, or appreciation from our families.  We may or may not be recognized for how we contribute to the common good.  I know that, I for one, have failed at times to recognize all the people who make the Grace community what it is.  You all pour out your hearts for this place, for each other in so many different ways. 

The deep irony of James and John’s request is that the height of Jesus’ glory lies not in gathering a crowd to hear a parable or in performing miracles.  The height of Jesus’ glory are the hours he spends on the cross.  Jesus spends at least the last year of his life teaching and preaching, healing and casting out demons, befriending and feeding, declaring: The kingdom of God has come near!  And because he does, because he subtly defies the emperor, because he challenges the social structures, because he not does avoid association with anyone for any reason, he is killed.  Despite pressure to stop loving people, to stop challenging an unjust system, Jesus continues and is killed.  His crucifixion and death are the height of his glory, a radical identification with those who mattered least in his society, a willingness to continue his mission despite the risks, an unconditional love for all humanity. 

Friends, if we want to sit at Jesus’ right and left hand in his glory, we don’t ascend to high, powerful places.  Instead, we wash our hands, put on plastic gloves, and feed one another.  We use whatever gifts and skills we have to contribute to our community.  We forgive each other, and we love each other even when it’s hard.  The glory Jesus has to offer is a life of service and love, a willingness to continue to follow the call of God even when it’s risky.  But that’s the glory that brings true joy.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.

Pastor Kristin Engstrom’s New Call in Zambia

The GLOW Show: Theological ABCs on Righteousness

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, we lift up R for righteousness!

Sermon for Sunday, October 10

Day of the Church Year: 20th Sunday after Pentecost

Scripture Passage: Mark 10:17-31

Jesus loves the rich man.  The gospel writer Mark tells us so.  Jesus does not condemn him.  He does not blame him.  Jesus does not condemn the rich man for being rich.  Jesus does not blame the rich man for any reason.  Jesus loves the rich man.  Of course he does.  When the rich man asks Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life, Jesus speaks not in moral terms but in practical ones.  Jesus tells him to sell what he owns and give the money to the poor and then to come, follow him.  The rich man is shocked and grieves.  The rich man grieves even though he is looking for life, and here, Jesus describes a way of living that brings life, even eternal life.  But the rich man doesn’t want to hear that way.  He wants a different way, perhaps an easier way. 

Generations of Jesus-followers have also looked for a different way.  We have assumed that Jesus does not mean what he says.  We assume this is one of the places where Jesus is speaking in hyperbole or parable.  Later, when Jesus says: “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God,” he indeed speaks in hyperbole.  But not when he invites the rich man to sell what he owns, give the money to the poor, and come, follow him.  Still, we wonder: does Jesus really mean it—for the rich man to sell what he owns and give the money to the poor? 

Generations of biblical scholars have tried to find the loopholes in this episode, the mis-translations of the Greek, the cultural aspects of this passage we don’t understand.  Some nonsense about a gate that “explains” how a camel can go through the eye of a needle; it’s an interpretation of the passage based on both the Greek and anthropological study.  Questioning: does the Greek indicate the man is to sell all he owns or just some of what he owns?

We Jesus-followers and biblical scholars, we don’t want the complete giving away of our resources to be the way of eternal life.  We want a different way.  There are some Jesus followers who very intentionally give up everything, live in community with shared resources, and follow Jesus, people like Dorothy Day and Mother Teresa and even Shane Claiborne who founded The Simple Way and has lived in community for the past 15 years in Philadelphia.  People do this but not a lot of people, and most of us are pretty sure we don’t want to join them.  But does this mean we don’t inherit eternal life? 

In today’s Jesus story, Jesus and the disciples discuss both eternal life and the kingdom of God which seem, from this passage, to be roughly equivalent to one another.  In the beginning of the gospel of Mark, Jesus declares that the kingdom of God has come near when Jesus breaks on the scene, and Jesus continues to speak of the kingdom’s in-breaking throughout the gospel.  Jesus’ declaration of the kingdom-come right then and there seems to indicate that the kingdom of God coming is not the same thing as an afterlife.  Instead, the kingdom seems to show up wherever Jesus—and thus, God—is present.  Only in the gospel of John does the phrase “eternal life” appear in anything but this particular story.  Meaning, there is a story equivalent to today’s Mark story in both Matthew and Luke, but this one story is the only place the words “eternal life” appear in Matthew, Mark, and Luke.  In John, Jesus speaks many times of eternal life, and in John, eternal life is not relegated to afterlife but starts now in our relationship with God and continues forever.  If all of that biblical mumbo-jumbo didn’t make sense, I’ll just say this: I wonder if Jesus is talking about afterlife here. I’m not sure. I wonder if Jesus hears the rich man ask: What must I do to live in relationship with you?  And Jesus responds: Let go of everything that gets in the way of you following me.  And for the rich man, it is his riches. 

What gets in your way of following Jesus?

Jesus invites us to let go of whatever that is.

It might be our riches.  Most of us are not so different than the rich man, especially when we consider our socio-economic place on a global scale.  Maybe Jesus’ invitation is one of monetary generosity or a simpler lifestyle.  Our fear of social ridicule may stop us from following Jesus; I, for one, definitely avoid answering the question: What do you do? Based on where I am and who asks me. We might fear change in our lives; maybe we’re comfortable the way life is and don’t want our boats rocked.  We might just be doing other things besides following Jesus and don’t feel like we have the time to serve others, to live in community, to love people even if they may never love us back.  I invite you to ask yourself what keeps you from following Jesus and to consider, actually, letting go of whatever it is. 

The good news about giving up whatever gets in our way of following is that, when we do follow, we are not left destitute.  We get our lives back.  But our lives come back different.  They’re better.  Peter hears Jesus’ teaching and cries out: “Look, we have left everything and followed you.”  And Jesus responds that all who follow him receive all they’ve given up back a hundredfold—and with persecutions, he adds.  We get a life of love and joy back a hundredfold—with persecutions because, of course, this radical Jesus-following life will always confound some.  But when we give up what gets in our way, we receive back life, life abundant.  Jesus issues the invitation to give up whatever stops us from following him because he, quite simply, loves us.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.

Garden Steward Needed!

The Garden of Grace is a productive vegetable and flower garden that produces vegetables for our weekly Food Angel food boxes and, hopefully, GLOW once that ministry restarts. The Garden of Grace also provides an opportunity to walk a labyrinth for the garden itself is a labyrinth, an ancient spiritual discipline.

We are looking for a Garden Steward to help keep the garden in tip-top shape. No experience necessary! Just love and about 20-30 minutes per week. Here’s what the Garden Steward would do in their weekly 20-30 minute visits:

• Adjust irrigation system as needed

• Monitor soil moisture

• Weed and monitor for pests

• Harvest edible plants

• Share successes through church news and social media

• Implement "adopt a plot" if desired. Friends of the Garden and community members could take responsibility for X-number of bags. This is optional.

Someone who is interested—even someone who is not sure they can do these things, please talk with Pastor Sarah. She can easily show you how to do each of these things. Consider this job 20-30 minutes per week of peace and enjoying God’s creation!

Sunday Morning Breakfast Volunteers Needed November 7

Grace will serve the Sunday morning breakfast on Sunday, November 7 for the last time in 2021. Our crew has dwindled, and any and all who have an interest in serving the breakfast are welcomed and encouraged to take part! Volunteers arrive between 6:15 and 6:30 am at the west side door along the alley that leads nearly directly into the church kitchen. Not to worry if you have never volunteered! You will be guided by those who have long served in this ministry. Volunteers are done between 8:30 am and 9:00 am, but rest assured, you can attend the contemporary worship at 8:30 am regardless.

Work Day

All are welcomed and encouraged to help spruce up the Grace property, in particular the parsonage, on Saturday, October 30, 8:00 am-2:00 pm. Tasks will include painting, minor maintenance, and planting. Lunch will be provided.

Community Building Goal for October-December

Our community building goal for October-December is to refrain from using adjectives as nouns, such as “the homeless,” “the hungry,” or “the poor.” Instead, our goal is to speak of people first, a person’s circumstances second—or, ideally, to speak of people by name. Examples: Instead of “the homeless,” we can use “people experiencing homelessness.” Instead of “the poor,” we can use “people living in poverty.” This helps us remember that each person is a person first—and not a category or defined by their circumstances.

The GLOW Show: Theological ABCs on Reconciliation

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 Pastor Rick Sherill from Prince of Peace Lutheran Church, Phoenix, we lift up R for reconciliation!