Sermon for Sunday, December 5

Day of the Church Year: 2nd Sunday of Advent

Scripture Passage: Luke 3:1-6

Not to Emperor Tiberius

Not to Pontius Pilate, governor of Judea

Not to Herod, ruler of Galilee

Not to Philip, ruler of Ituraea and Trachonitis

Not to Lysanias, ruler of Abilene

Not to Annas or Caiaphus, the high priests

When the word of God appears in first century Israel, it does not come to the high and mighty, and it does not come to the temple in Jerusalem or to any palace or to any hall of power.  The word of God comes to John son of Zechariah in the wilderness.  John enters the wilderness because that is where God drives him, a wilderness of danger and uncertainty, of scarce food and water, of loneliness and isolation.  The word of God comes to John in the wilderness, and he preaches from Isaiah 40 anticipating the coming of Jesus: Prepare the way of the Lord.  Make his paths straight.  Every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth; and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.

For me as a preacher, John the Baptist is a very difficult biblical character because he was a real person.  He lived two thousand years ago, a relative of Jesus, a man called by God to prepare the way of the Lord.  But this highly unconventional, locust-eating, truth-telling, wilderness living man would, in our culture, would be deemed crazy, not worth listening to, and be systematically marginalized—even by religious people.  Honestly.  Every Advent, I truly wrestle with this question about who I listen to, who I consider authoritative in speaking God’s word, and then wonder who might be called by God to share the word of the Lord here and now—and whether they are someone I ignored while walking along the street one day. 

The gospel writer Luke clearly intends to make this very point: that the word of God is going to come to us in ways we don’t expect.  The people who gathered in the wilderness with John, remember: they didn’t go to the temple in Jerusalem or even their local synagogue to hear the word of God.  They went to the most dangerous place in first century Israel, the wilderness, to listen to a man who had no credentials preach from the prophet Isaiah.  Where will we hear the word of God today?  Dare I say it might not be in church.  It might not be from a preacher.  It might not come from someone whose authority rests in a system.  Instead, we might hear the word of God from someone who meets us where we are, from a partner or neighbor, from a coworker or a Grace community member, from a stranger on the street.  We might hear the word of God from places in our culture we thought profane or unseemly.    

There’s no resolution for me in Advent.  That the word of God comes to John in the wilderness instead of coming to the high priests in the temple confuses the heck out of me—but also gives me hope because it suggests that God speaks to us where we are.  If we’re here at church, God speaks in song and prayer, in the reading of scripture and the sacraments, in the gathered community.  If we’re elsewhere, God meets us there somehow.  I can’t tell you how exactly.  I don’t know.  But if the word of God came to John in the wilderness, the word of God will also meet us there—in whatever wilderness we find ourselves.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.  

Christmas Vacation

The Church office will be closed from December 25 until January 2. During this time, we will not offer daily outreach, Food Angel boxes, or Grace Room clothing/hygiene distribution.

Pastor Sarah will also be on vacation from December 25 until January 1. In case of pastoral emergency, please contact Pastor Kristin Rice at 608-317-8112; Pastor Kristin serves All Saints Lutheran Church in north Phoenix and is happy to be with you if needed.

The GLOW Show: Theological ABCs on Faith

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 F and explore FAITH with Grace member Ursula Osburn. Enjoy!

Sermon for Advent Vespers

On Sunday evening, November 28, Grace joined St. Mary’s Basilica, the closest Roman Catholic parish, for their evening Advent Vespers. Pastor Sarah preached.

Day of the Church Year: 1st Sunday in Advent

Scripture Passage: Philippians 4:4-8

Tonight, we hear the Apostle Paul’s words to the Christians in Philippi, “Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.”  These are bold words, for Paul, for the Philippians, for us.  Paul was in prison at the time he wrote this letter to the Philippians, and the Philippians, though Roman citizens, still risked persecution for their identity as Jesus-followers.  We, in this second year of pandemic, live in the midst of what feels like a topsy-turvy world: a strange labor market, rising inflation, a migrant crisis, escalating climate change, surging Covid-19 case numbers, and division within our country, our workplaces, our families.  Paul’s bold words invite us not to worry, to bring our requests to God in prayer, to do so with thanksgiving.  If we read the rest of Paul’s letter to the Philippians, we see he does not dismiss the real-life difficulties of his day.  He acknowledges illness, imprisonment, division, and still, he encourages the Philippians: do not worry, but let your requests be made known to God with thanksgiving. 

When we live in the muck such as the whole world is in this moment on November 28, 2021, it is tempting to think that, when things get back to normal, we won’t worry and we will once again practice gratitude.  When we are grieving the loss of a loved one, it is tempting to think that, when we get over it and move on, we won’t worry and will once again be grateful.  When we or a beloved family member is suddenly ill, it is tempting to think that, when we get better, we won’t worry and will once again be thankful.  When we are feeling off balance and out of sorts for a whole variety of reasons, it is tempting to think that, when we get back on track, we won’t worry and will return to a life of thanksgiving before God.  Friends, this, right now, is life.  This is not a moment out of time but life itself.  If we wait until life returns to “normal,” until we can get our bearings, until some pre-determined moment when all will be well again in order to let go and live with gratitude, we will be waiting a long time.  This, right now, is the moment of thanksgiving.  In the mess, in the muck, in all that is wrong. 

This past Wednesday evening, people of faith from different traditions gathered at Grace to give thanks to God at a community Thanksgiving Eve worship.  During worship, those who gathered were invited to write down a person or opportunity or blessing for which they were grateful.  In the mess, in the muck, in all that is wrong, this is what some of those who gathered wrote:

I am grateful that my son survived his terrible accident and that he has found a partner.

Families: both church and our own

new opportunities

family and friends, health, Grace Lutheran Church, a dear one’s sobriety

for everyone who has stood by me thru everything

God’s kindness through others

for all the opportunities I have

challenging and meaningful work

the cool night air and doors open for all God’s beloved

our freedom, our healthcare experts, handling life on life’s terms

grateful for my family, my faith, my life

I am grateful for the opportunity to serve

beloved community

For what do you give thanks to God?  I invite you to offer up silent thanks now. 

In the mess, in the muck, in all that is wrong, do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God.  The Apostle Paul concludes: And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.

Sermon from Sunday, November 28

Day of the Church Year: 1st Sunday of Advent

Scripture Passage: Luke 21:25-36

When I first bought my house, Brian very kindly offered me cuttings of bamboo from his yard.  My front and backyards were bare canvasses in need of shade for myself and the chickens.  So, I accepted the cuttings and excitedly planted them in a strategic spot on the east side of my house where the sun shined too brightly through the windows on summer mornings.  At first, I worried about the bamboo, watched it expectantly, and carefully watered it.  With surprise and delight, I watched the bamboo cuttings grow thick, green leaves on a stalk so strong and tall that, in just a few months, the bamboo hit the eaves of my house—which didn’t work for me—because it looked messy.  I was sad when I decided to take a set of large clippers and chop them down.  At the time, I pondered asking Brian for more cuttings and setting them in a better spot.  But wouldn’t ya know?  That bamboo came back!  With a vengeance!  I had to dig it out by the roots to stop it from growing in the small space between my east-facing windows and the chicken coop and decided to transplant a few cuttings to the northwest corner of my yard where they could grow freely without hitting a building.  Again, I wondered if the plant would survive its move, but I shouldn’t have worried.  My patch of bamboo has now survived multiple choppings, choppings nearly down to the ground.  Six weeks ago at its most recent chopping, the bamboo was, I’m not kidding, at least twelve feet tall and those few bamboo cuttings now an area six feet by six feet.  I now know the mystery and the miracle of this stand of bamboo.  It’s always going to come back.  For even now, stalks of new, thick, green leaves are poking through the mulch in my backyard in an area six feet by six feet. 

Every morning for the last few weeks, the words of Jeremiah’s prophecy and Isaiah’s prophecy have come to mind as I’ve watered the garden in the backyard and glimpsed my patch of growing bamboo.  From Isaiah 11: “A shoot shall come out from the stump of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots.”  From today’s prophecy from Jeremiah: “In those days and in that time, I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for David.”  The words from Isaiah begin a vision of the peaceful kingdom brought about by the coming messiah, a messiah during whose reign a wolf will lie down with a lamb and a leopard with a kid.  The words from Jeremiah promise justice and righteousness after a devastating Babylonian exile in the form of righteous Branch, capital B Branch.  In the time of Isaiah and Jeremiah, the Israelites wait for God to send a messiah who will bring justice and righteousness.  They wait for a shoot to come from the stump of Jesse, a branch to spring up for David.  David is, of course, King David, the most celebrated king of Israel, the most triumphant, the beloved of God, the one who loved God with deep devotion, and Jesse is the father of David.  The ancient Jews assume the messiah will come from the line of Jesse and David even if they have to wait.  And they do wait...even though it looks like all has been lost, even though it looks like this is the end of the road for the people Israel.  They wait for the 39 years of the Babylonian exile.  They wait through spiritual, cultural, physical agony.  They wait for a shoot, for a branch to grow up out of the stump of Jesse. 

The Babylonian exile ends after 39 years.  The ancient Jews held captive in Babylon return to Israel.  They begin to rebuild the temple in Jerusalem, the one destroyed by the Babylonians.  After the devastation of the exile, however, the leaders of Israel return to their old ways even though God had warned of the consequences of injustice and empty worship practices.  After years of deprivation and grief, instead of embracing justice and righteousness, the leaders of Israel—in true, human form—exploit those in poverty and forget about widows and orphans whose care is the very definition of justice according to the prophets.  Meanwhile, the people wait to be surprised by a shoot from the stump of Jesse, by a branch sprung up for David. 

This Advent as we are mired in our own mix of injustice and unrighteousness, in a world of greedy and self-focused leaders, in communities languishing from a still-continuing pandemic and all its effects, we too wait to be surprised by God.  We too wait for racial injustice to end, for our leaders to work together for the sake of the common good, for compassion and goodwill for all people who flee their countries as a result of political persecution and economic strife.  Every Advent, we wait for the coming of the Christ child with a curious suspension of time.  We know Christ has come already and changed the world forevermore.  Still, we wait with bated breath for the coming of Christ who will execute justice and righteousness. 

The difference between us and the ancient people of Israel is that we believe the messiah has already come and that the messiah’s kingdom of justice and righteousness has already been established.  We wait, yes, for that kingdom’s flourishing, but the surprise on this first Sunday in Advent is that Christ’s coming two thousand years ago, his life, death, resurrection, ascension, and finally the pouring out of the Holy Spirit on us means we live already in Christ’s kingdom of justice and righteousness. We wait, yes, and we also act as agents of Christ’s kingdom come this Advent.  In a world that has already received the messiah, we are the green shoots from the stump of Jesse, the branch sprung up for David, we the body of Christ in the world.  Not me, not you individually, but we the body of Christ together.  We the body of Christ welcome strangers and feed anyone who’s hungry.  We the body of Christ advocate for those who are vulnerable and pray for one another and the world.  We the body of Christ build community in a world that is more and more divided.  We the body of Christ contemplate how to best use what power and influence we have for the sake of our vulnerable neighbors.  We wait, yes, and we also act with justice and righteousness, in some large but mostly small ways, like a green shoot growing from a stump.  Christ and his kingdom of justice and righteousness has come and is come and will come and come soon.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.

The GLOW Show: Theological ABCs on Eschatology

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 E and explore Eschatology with Grace member Ursula Osburn. Enjoy!

Sermon for Sunday, November 21

Day of the Church Year: Christ the King Sunday

Scripture Passage: John 18:33-37

Jesus is in the halls of power.  In a Roman-occupied Israel, in the city of Jerusalem, in the headquarters of the Roman governor, Pontius Pilate, after being handed over by the Jewish leaders, Jesus is on trial.  And the way it looks to Pilate, Jesus won’t give a straight answer.  In a Roman occupied Israel, it is treason to say you are a king—for no one is king but the emperor—which is why Pilate asks Jesus if he is king of the Jews.  After Jesus’ evasion, Pilate follows up: so you are a king?  But Jesus only implies assent and speaks of a kingdom not from this world.  Herein lies the difference between king and kingdom according to Pilate and king and kingdom according to Jesus.  Jesus cannot accept the premise of the question.  Jesus cannot accept the premise of “king,” “kingdom,” or power that would lead others to fight for his freedom in this moment when he will surely be put to death.  For Jesus’ kingdom is radically different than that of the Roman Empire, of every empire, of every age, including ours. 

On this Christ the King Sunday, I long for a world where Christ will sit on a throne and use all the power at his disposal to create a just and peaceful world, one where compassion and forgiveness reign.  But what I learn from Jesus this morning is that we cannot simply switch out the leaders of this world and put in Jesus.  We cannot dethrone our presidents, prime ministers, and dictators and put Jesus in their place.  We cannot call upon the name of God in halls of power here and now because the kingdoms of this age look nothing like Jesus’ kingdom.  For starters, Jesus’ coronation as king is, in the gospel of John, literally his crucifixion.  In John 19, Roman soldiers place a crown of thorns on Jesus’ head and afix a sign above him meant to mock him that reads: Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.  In his life, Jesus heals people, feeds people, washes their feet, befriends them.  He forgives sin, frees people from bondage of many types, and restores people to their communities.  In the course of his life, Jesus’ love for people so aggravates those in power that they kill him.  Jesus is not looking to throw the emperor off the throne because Jesus is opposed, fundamentally, to how that power is amassed and preserved.  He is healing people, feeding people, washing their feet, befriending them.  He is forgiving sin, freeing people from bondage, and restoring communities.  In Jesus’ kingdom, it doesn’t get better than that.  That’s his reign. 

Two weeks ago, those going on next summer’s soul journey to Holden Village gathered for our first team-building event.  Among many other decisions, we composed a covenant to which we are holding one another accountable, things like “respect boundaries” and “no simmering in bitterness; communicate with love.”  As with all human covenants, we put in writing the consequence for dishonoring the covenant.  For our 2019 soul journey to Holden Village, Alison created a dunce cap to be worn by anyone who broke the covenant which was then followed by an apology to the whole group and a group hug.  Two weeks ago when we gathered and discussed the consequence of dishonoring the covenant, we laughed as we remembered the dunce cap...but then we talked about how shaming that is, how punitive, how it would have the very opposite effect of restoring community.  We wondered if this was really what we were about as Christians.  We talked about how someone who dishonors the covenant would probably be hurting, in need of compassion, in need of love and understanding.  So we decided that, instead of the dunce cap, this time, Alison and Charlie would create a LOVE button to be worn by the person who dishonors the covenant.  When they wear it, one of the soul journeyers commented, when they wear it, the LOVE button will remind us that person needs more love.  And of course, because accountability is necessary, an apology to the group and a group hug will follow. 

In Jesus’ kingdom which is jumbled up in this present age, we participate in our own and others’ healing, feed people, wash people’s feet, and befriend them.  We love our enemies and even our families, and we forgive each other as many as seventy times seven.  We shroud people not with dunce caps but with LOVE buttons that remind us that while accountability is necessary, punishment is not.  Love is the way of Christ’s kingdom.  It doesn’t get better than that. 

Yet we may still be wondering...shouldn’t Christ’s reign lead to a prosperous church?  Shouldn’t God’s kingdom come in such a way that no one could mistake Christ’s reign?  Why aren’t churches enormous and wealthy and leading the way in culture?  How can Christ be king and yet his reign be so humble?  These are questions for Christ the King Sunday.  As much as I would love for churches to be bursting at the seams with people who want to hear the good news of Jesus and then follow him, I suspect the good news of Jesus is too challenging to be popular.  And even if it were, the way Jesus lived and died and rose again, the way that Jesus healed and fed, washed and befriended, forgave and restored, leads me to believe that Christ’s reign is far more humble than our dreams of wealth, success, and prestige. 

Christ the King Sunday is full to the brim with paradox.  Christ is king, but his coronation is on the cross.  If we keep participating in our own and others’ healing, if we keep feeding people and washing their feet, befriending them and forgiving them and loving them, we may indeed stumble into the kingdom of God.  A kingdom where we know the power of God in love, where a lamb who is slain sits upon the throne.  Thanks be to God!  Amen. 

The GLOW Show: Theological ABCs on Communion

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 C for Communion and hear wisdom from both Martin Luther and Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Enjoy!

Sermon for Sunday, November 14

Day of the Church Year: 25th Sunday after Pentecost

Scripture Passage: Mark 13:1-8

As a Washington Post subscriber, on any given day, I can open my Washington Post app, read the headlines, and click on any article that interests me.  But to tell you the truth, compared to the number of headlines I scan on a daily basis, I don’t very often read full articles.  On a typical day, I read only two, maybe four full articles.  At times, I have clicked on an article ready to be shocked and appalled—because of the shocking and appalling headline--only to read to the end of the article, understand the fuller story, and then be shocked and appalled by the misleading headline.  I’ve learned that headlines can’t tell the whole story, can’t share multiple perspectives, and fairly routinely reveal the bias of their authors, reveal what the author wants its readers to feel about a particular event or situation, instead of just sharing the facts of the event or situation.  A headline can’t give me context, can’t share nuance, can’t capture more than one small piece of a larger story.  Yet so often, I and probably many of us read only the headlines.

I suspect this headline-only reading happens not just as we scroll through social media posts or our news outlet of choice.  Certainly in our culture at large and even within the church, we approach some aspects of our religious tradition with the same limited reading, glancing at the headline, never clicking on the full article to learn in greater depth.  There is perhaps no other topic within Christianity that gets Jesus-followers to read only headlines and no articles as what we call the quote unquote end times. 

Today, Jesus sits outside the temple in Jerusalem with the disciples, and they are awed by the majesty, the beauty, the grandeur of the stonework.  A building and an institution so immense and so important in the lives of first-century Jews, the temple in Jerusalem  would have been considered unshakeable, but Jesus tells the disciples, to their astonishment, that not one stone will be left upon another.  All will be thrown down.  The temple will be destroyed.  When they ask for more details, Jesus speaks of wars and rumors of wars, of earthquakes and famines, of nation against nation, of kingdom against kingdom.  But Jesus says, the end is still to come.  In other words, all these devastating events are not the end.  In fact, today’s passage ends with Jesus’ words: This is but the beginning of the birth pangs. 

If we were to click on the full article here, I think we’d first read that Jesus shares about the destruction of the temple with the disciples in around 30 of the common era but that the temple really was destroyed in the Roman-Jewish war—and right around the time the gospel of Mark was written in 70 of the common era.  All the devastating events he lists are events the people of his day experienced—and that humanity in every age has endured in some fashion.  Not only that.  When Jesus continues to teach them in the rest of Mark 13, he describes how the disciples are going to be persecuted because they follow him, persecution that really did happen.  If the headline of today’s passage reads “Jesus describes the end times,” towards the bottom of the article, the reporter might say: “Given the historical accuracy of Jesus’ words, his predictions may not indicate end time conditions, but instead reveal first-century historical conditions.” 

There’s no doubt that the early Christians were not apocalyptic bunch.  They expected the end of the world, God’s kingdom come, Jesus’ return at every moment.  The Apostle Paul fully expected to meet Jesus face to face in his lifetime.  Needless to say, at least whatever they expected to happen didn’t and hasn’t yet.  Christians for the past two thousand years have taken wild stabs at predicting Jesus’ return.  I say “wild stabs” because there is no clearer message about the end times in scripture than the fact that we will know neither the day nor the hour of Jesus’ return and God’s kingdom come.  Some Christians believe that deliberately creating devastating conditions will bring about Jesus’ return and the coming of God’s kingdom, but I am honestly not sure what scripture passages cause people to come to that belief. 

The photo that would sit beneath this headline: “Jesus describes the end times” is filled with fire, wounded people, fragmented earth.  It’s not a pretty sight.  The photo would catch anyone’s eye—and scare them.  Perhaps the caption would quote the book of Revelation about a beast and destruction. 

But, again, if we click on the full article of Mark 13 in the larger context of scripture, we read about events common to the human experience, events that had happened in biblical times many times—famines, earthquakes, wars.  We read about persecution, the context for all of the New Testament writings.  Each one of the New Testament writers knew the uncertainty and risk of being a Jesus-follower in the Roman Empire.  Jesus was crucified by the Roman Empire.  If that’s who you’re following, it does not bode well for you.  In Mark 13, Jesus is not describing the end times so much as the times to come for the disciples, the latter half of the first century.  He specifically says: The end is still to come for these are just the beginning of the birth pangs.  Or in other words, when devastating events happen, the end has not come, but when the end does come, it is not a death but a birth. 

That’s why reading the full article is important today.  We hear scary stories of the end times, and we forget that when God’s kingdom comes and Jesus returns, we enter into God’s new heaven and new earth, where mourning and crying and pain will be no more.  Or as the great theologian John Lennon once said, “Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end.”  So fear not; the unrest of our days, the injustices, the suffering are just the beginning of the birth pangs, the passage to new life.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.