Sermon for Sunday, September 11

Day of the Church Year: 14th Sunday after Pentecost

Scripture Passage: Luke 15:1-10

In the 1980s when my dad was serving as pastor in a congregation in a small northwestern Minnesota town, a woodworker in the congregation made him a sign that read “Sinners Only.”  Delighted, my father put it up in his office and in the office of the next church he served and in the next.  Today, it sits in the office of my parents’ home.  Every time someone walked in the door of my dad’s office, this sign would greet them.  Sinners Only. 

We Lutherans are a bit gloomy about human nature compared to other Christians.  Martin Luther, whose writings and ministry ground the Lutheran tradition, was a rare combination of pessimist and optimist.  A reformer who believed in the capacity of God’s people to change and grow by the power of the Holy Spirit.  And an opinionated, gut-troubled cynic totally convicted by God’s law and convinced of his unworthiness before God.  Upon reading the Apostle Paul’s letters to the Christians in Rome and Galatia, Luther concluded that we are bound to sin and cannot free ourselves, that no matter how hard we try, humans will never be perfect, that we will never fulfill the law of God, at least not on our own.

This would have been news to the Pharisees and scribes in today’s Jesus story.  For they are keen to fulfill the law, to rigorously observe the letter of the law, to come as close to perfect as humanly possible—and they consider perfection possible.  As ancient Jewish religious leaders, the Pharisees and scribes rigorously debate and study Old Testament law.  I’m sure it seems natural to them, therefore, when they look at the wide swath of humanity in their communities, that they categorize certain people as sinners.  Indeed, all four gospels use the word “sinners” to describe groups of people usually loved by Jesus but despised and stigmatized by others.  Some sinners live with chronic illness or disability, medical conditions seen in that historical moment as a result of sin.  Some sinners work as prostitutes.  Some sinners are demon-ridden or fail to follow the sabbath or commit adultery.  The Pharisees and the scribes are, quite decidedly, not sinners, wink wink.  The gospel writer Luke tells us that tax collectors and sinners are coming to listen to Jesus, and the Pharisees and scribes grumble about Jesus, saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.”  Nice people, religious people, good people do not share meals with sinners and certainly do not open their lives to sinners.  So Jesus’ true blue nature is neither nice nor religious nor good, at least according to the Pharisees and scribes.

We, of course, hold a different view.  Jesus is our paragon of niceness, religion, and goodness.  And the lesson here is obvious, right?: to be like Jesus, we welcome sinners and eat with them.  To be like Jesus, we go to specific places where sinners gather, maybe bars or strip clubs or Grace Lutheran Church and we dare to sit at tables with sinners and eat, a sign of acceptance.  We dare to sit down and listen to and love people who are not perfect, whose lives are full of contradictions, whose intentions are not always pure.  Wait now.  That’s all of us.  Right?  Aren’t all of our lives full of contradictions?  Can any of us claim to have pure intentions all the time?  Are any of us perfect?  Sinners Only in the church, right?

Really, the joke’s on the Pharisees and the scribes.  The possibility does not enter their minds that they could be the sinners Jesus welcomes, that Jesus comes to heal and free them, that Jesus comes to forgive them.  But the irony is not lost on us.  When Jesus tells the parables of the lost sheep and the lost coin, the crowds gathered around aren’t really lost.  Maybe that’s the story others tell them, but the reality is different: the crowds know they are in need.  They are following Jesus for that reason.  They are hanging on his words.  They are eager to learn and be fed, to be forgiven and healed.  And because they know they need healing, they are not lost.  But the Pharisees and scribes, the ones who think they’re perfect, the ones who cannot be convinced of their need, they are like the lost sheep and the lost coin, the ones God scurries after in wild pursuit.  Of course, Jesus welcomes sinners and eats with them, with us, with all of us sinners—the ones who know we are sinners and the ones who are lost in our own self-righteousness and judgment. 

This story today is meant for the Pharisees and the scribes, not for the crowds of vulnerable people who follow Jesus all over the Galilean countryside.  And this story today is meant for those of us who, when we read about the lost sheep, assume it’s somebody else. 

But doesn’t Jesus command us, through this story, to go and rescue that lost sheep and to sweep and find that lost coin?  We so easily read ourselves into stories where Jesus proclaims God’s saving love and rescue.  We so easily cast ourselves in the role of savior when, really, the savior is always Jesus.  When we mistake our role as savior, we risk pitying those we encounter.  We risk seeing those we help as less than us.  We risk inflating our own egos.  Jesus calls us to serve all people, following his example, and calls us to strive for justice and peace in all the earth, but we do so alongside our community working together for the sake of the common good, cognizant that we too have needs we are trying to meet.

Jesus welcomes sinners and eats with them.  Thank God!  Because around here, it’s Sinners Only.  And as Jesus tells the Pharisees and scribes, God will go after us even on our worst day and carry us home.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.

Sermon for Sunday, September 4

Day of the Church Year: 13th Sunday after Pentecost

Scripture Passage: Luke 14:25-33

In my college years and even in seminary, I battled and debated and struggled with ideas.  The doctrine of justification, atonement theology, Christology, the study of Jesus’ relationship to God.  Why do bad things happen to good people?  How do we reconcile contradictions in scripture?  Who is God, really, and what did Jesus actually say and do?  These were just a few of the questions and topics that constantly floated through my brain.  They were incredibly important to me, and I did not hesitate to raise my hand in class to question my professors and classmates.  I eagerly debated my friends and family on, well, nearly any topic.  And when I told my sister that I was going to seminary to be a pastor, she said, “Really?  You’re too opinionated to be a pastor.”  What we believe, the ideas we embrace, the doctrines of the church have been the focus of most Christians since at least the fourth century.  That is to say, many Christians have pursued getting our beliefs right, figuring out the truth, and discerning what is accurate about God, Jesus, and scripture as the substance of what it means to be Christian.  You may say: Well, of course.  I don’t dispute the importance of studying scripture, of discussing doctrine, of questioning assumptions.  In fact, I highly encourage it.  Come and discuss Sexuality and the Bible at Theology Pub tonight at 6 pm at Arizona Wilderness!  Or come to GLOW on Wednesday nights beginning September 14.  Or join Grace Time Bible Study in the North Room each Sunday at 10 am beginning next Sunday.  Ideas are important.  But our faith, what it means to be a Christian, what it looks like to follow Jesus cannot be entirely summed up in a creed or a statement of faith.  The ideas to which we intellectually consent are only half of discipleship.

For today, Jesus calls the large crowds who travel with him to be his disciples.  And while the cost of discipleship is high, it doesn’t actually involve ideas.  Discipleship involves action.  To be clear, Jesus speaks of discipleship, not of salvation.  If salvation is all we seek, we can rest assured in the grace of God.  But if we seek to follow Jesus, to be his disciples, then, everything is required.  Hating family, hating life, carrying the cross, giving up all our possessions.  When Jesus speaks of hating here, he uses it as all those around him did at the time: as a rhetorical contrast between hate and love.  Jesus is not advocating intense hostility toward family and life but rather challenging his listeners to a singular commitment, allegiance, and love of him.  When Jesus speaks of giving up all possessions, he speaks not just of material possessions but all things for which we plan and work and negotiate—that we might not let anything sway us from our commitment to Jesus and the life to which he calls us.  This call is not about ideas alone but about action.

Of course, we know this.  Some of us have gone through confirmation and affirmed our baptismal promises in the Lutheran church.  I did when I was 15 years old.  After two or three years of study, affirming our baptismal promises involves standing up before the community of faith and saying: Yep!  I’m going to follow Jesus now.  And we commit ourselves to action, five actions, specifically.  They are: living among God’s faithful people, hearing the word of God and sharing in the Lord’s supper, proclaiming the good news of God in Christ through word and deed, serving all people, following the example of Jesus, and striving for justice and peace in all the earth.  These are actions.  Not ideas.  At affirmation of baptism, we say yes to living in Christian community meaning building relationships with others in community, to showing up for worship on Sunday morning, to shining the light of Christ in all we say and do, to serving others in small and large ways, maybe by volunteering here at church or going out of our way to care for people in our daily work, to striving, actually, for justice and peace in the world, maybe through advocating at the state capitol, writing our legislators, or learning about and practicing nonviolent communication.  These actions reveal us to be disciples of Jesus. 

We are already beloved children of God. 

We are already siblings in Christ through the sacrament of Holy Baptism.

We are already part of the Grace community since we are in this room (or connected via Facebook live) right now.

We may even believe that God exists, that Jesus is the Son of God, and that the Spirit actively guides us in our daily lives.

But discipleship is more than any of these things.  Discipleship is an every day act, an every day series of acts, an every day practice of forgiveness and generosity, nonviolence and justice seeking.  Discipleship involves showing grace to ourselves and others when we and they make mistakes (so we get lots of practice in discipleship).  Discipleship involves serving others and not simply our own interests.

Can we do it?  Jesus makes a good point—of course, he makes a good point—when he addresses the crowd in our scripture today.  The one who builds a tower would do well to estimate the cost and be assured she has enough resources to see it to completion.  The king who wages war would do well to determine the possibility of success before sending his troops into battle.  Can we follow Jesus?  Can we bring this calling to completion?  Discipleship is hard.  Forgiveness and generosity, nonviolence and justice seeking, showing grace and serving others is hard.  Because it’s counter-cultural.  Because it demands our growth.  Because we inevitably encounter challenges.  Can we do it?

Jesus doesn’t address this in the short portion of scripture we read today, but the answer to the question might, actually, be no.  We can’t do it, at least not alone.  But we aren’t alone.  We are called into community, a community who supports and uplifts us.  We are filled with and led by the Spirit of God.  We are loved beyond measure.  I think the relevant question today is not Can we follow Jesus but rather Do we want to?  Do we want to follow Jesus into forgiveness and generosity, nonviolence and justice seeking, showing grace and serving others?  Do we want to live this joyous life of love?  Because if we do want to follow, by the grace of God, the power of the Holy Spirit, and the encouragement of this gathered community, we can.  And for that, we say: Thanks be to God!  Amen.

Sunday Spirit

We invite children and youth to Sunday Spirit every Sunday at 10:00 am. Preschool through 3rd grade meet in the Christian Education Office in the church basement; older children and youth meet in the Youth Room in the church basement. We share Bible stories, games, activities, food, and connection with one another and God!

Work Day: Sunday, September 11, 12:30-2:30 pm

Please join in the God's Work Our Hands Work Day on Sunday, September 11, 12:30-2:30 pm! We will be planting veggies in the Garden of Grace, tending the flowers around the property, and preparing to install a new bike rack. On God's Work Our Hands Day, thousands of Lutheran congregations will be engaged in service projects around the nation. Please join in for a time of food and service!

Save The Date...Fall Prayer Retreat!

Our annual fall retreat at Camp Emmanuel Pines will be Friday, October 14-Sunday, October 16. The retreat is centered around the prayer: Lord God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown. Give us faith to go out with good courage, not knowing where we go but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. The cost of the retreat is $120.00 which includes transportation to Camp Emmanuel Pines in Prescott and meals. Join us for fellowship, good food, bible study, and prayer. For more information, contact Carol Staffieri (Cstaffieri@centurylink.net) or Pastor Sarah (pastorsarah@graceinthecity.com).

GLOW!

On December 14, the Phoenix Children’s Chorus will join us to sing Christmas carols!

All are welcome to join in GLOW (Grace Lutheran On Wednesdays)! Doors open at 5:15 pm, dinner at 5:30 pm, study at 6:15 pm. This fall, our theme is "Faith & Poetry," and we are exploring spiritual themes in poetry alongside the Bible. We are in need of volunteers to serve the meal with an arrival time of no later than 5:15 pm. Please let Jasmine (officemanager@graceinthecity.com) know if you can help as a server. Thank you!

PhLY

We are so excited to be starting our fourth year of PhLY, Phoenix Lutheran Youth High School Ministry. PhLY brings together high school youth groups from across the Valley to do monthly youth events.

Please fill out the registration form so we have the most recent contact information https://forms.gle/njdRiBEkG8mhfKqp7.

Don’t forget to follow us on Instagram @phlyministry or facebook.com/phlyministry! This is where you will find up to date news and pictures from our events.

Please put these upcoming event dates on your calendar:

October 15-16

Fall Lock-IN 

Esperanza Lutheran 2601 E Thunderhill Pl, Phoenix, AZ 85048

November 19

PhLY Gives Back

West Valley Lutheran Thrift 10615 W Peoria Ave, Sun City, AZ 85351

December 2, 6:00 pm-9:00 pm

First Friday

Meet at Grace Lutheran (1124 N 3rd Street, Phoenix, AZ 85004)  then we will be walking around the Downtown Phoenix First Friday event

Bring money for food 

January 13-16

Winter Retreat

Camp ALOMA 300 Margaret Dr, Prescott, AZ 86305

$50 per person

Sermon for Sunday, August 21

Day of the Church Year: 11th Sunday after Pentecost

Scripture Passage: Luke 13:10-17

The leader of the synagogue is not wrong. Work is not permitted on the sabbath. There are six whole days on which work may be done, but work is not permitted on God’s holy day of rest. And Jesus knows. Jesus, like all the faithful Jews gathered around him, knows the Ten Commandments, one of which reads: Remember the sabbath day and keep it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work. But the seventh day is a sabbath to the Lord your God. Jesus, far more than any one of us, honors scripture, honors God’s law, honors what is right and good. But today, on the sabbath, Jesus sees a woman bound by a spinal condition that leaves her back bent and unable to straighten, a condition that likely causes pain and trouble breathing, frustration and isolation. When Jesus does the spiritual, ethical calculation of right and wrong, good and bad, instead of telling the woman to find him tomorrow when the sabbath has ended, he frees her then and there. The leader of the synagogue is not wrong. Jesus breaks God’s own law. In order to show the woman grace and to free her from her ailment.

I feel this story deep in my bones. This story and others like it challenge me, plague me, make my life messy. For I’m a rule-follower and a boundaries-lover. I like clarity and absolutes with crisp edges on my ethical standards. I like to understand and follow the spirit of the law, and here, God’s sabbath law is partly about honoring God and also partly about God wanting us to care for and love ourselves, to ensure we get the rest we need so that we can care for and love our neighbor. The law Jesus breaks is not arbitrary. It is law meant to provide a boundary that leads to health and wholeness, not only for the ones who observe it but for all creation. Jesus, too, needs rest in order to do his ministry. To follow this law means no work, for Jesus no healings and no miracles, for us no work phone calls, no work text messages, no work emails on the sabbath. It means no stopping by for a quick second to do this one little thing. That’s how I love my boundaries: clear and absolute with crisp edges.

But, but, in this story, Jesus reveals something that makes me very uncomfortable, that life is messy, not clear and absolute. And this story is not just about the sabbath. It’s about God’s law—and even civic law—and how we assess its relevance in the face of human need and especially human suffering.

At this point in my sermon writing process, I got stuck.  Because, while the law is clear, grace is messy.  Not Grace the church but grace the theological concept of undeserved favor.  I guess Grace Lutheran Church is also messy.  Grace cannot be codified in law or fit into a policy.  Grace resides in a gray area.  Not all decisions, not all circumstances, not all ethical questions are messy, unclear, or gray; indeed, the law of God is right and good.  Remember the sabbath day, and keep it holy.  But when faced with human need and especially human suffering, sometimes, what is truly right and good alters.   

Several years ago, someone in our community called to let me know they were in the hospital.  As I usually do, I got in my car and drove to the hospital to see them.  People told me that this person wasn’t really sick, that they just wanted attention, that they had problems but that illness wasn’t one of them.  I went anyway.  When I arrived at the hospital, the person in question was laying in the hospital bed hooked up to IVs and looking very much like every other person I had ever visited in the hospital.  During the course of our conversation, they described to me the various struggles they were having, struggles having nothing to do with their health.  Finally, in lowered voice, they revealed to me that the reason for which they were admitted to the hospital wasn’t true.  They were perfectly healthy.  I felt duped.  I felt stupid.  I felt betrayed.  This person called on me and on numerous medical professions in the hour of their supposed physical distress, but they were, actually, fine.  “I can’t believe I went to the hospital,” I said to a friend.  “I feel so stupid.  People told me this person was fine, but I went anyway.”  My wise friend responded, “They’re not fine.  Someone who would feign illness in order to get help is in distress.  And now, they know you care about them.  If you have to choose between being right and being loving, don’t you choose loving?”

Yes, I choose loving.  But it’s not that easy all the time. 

Fortunately for us, in today’s story, Jesus does not end the story commanding his disciples, the leader of the synagogue, or the crowd gathered in the synagogue to “go and do likewise” in showing grace or making that choice between being right and being loving.  Instead, Jesus simply breaks the sabbath to show grace.  Instead, he points out one situation where the leader of the synagogue himself does the same and calls him on his hypocrisy for, of course, we each of us break laws in order to show grace sometimes.  Instead, Jesus acknowledges that life is messy and teaches God is gracious, that God sees us in the particularity of our lives, sees the distress we are in even if no one else does.  And God cares for us enough to break even God’s own law.  That’s it.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.    

Theology Pub: Sunday, November 6

All are invited to a monthly gathering to connect and share a beverage over meaningful topics.  Theology Pub meets the first Sunday evening of each month, 6:00-7:30 pm, at Arizona Wilderness DTPHX, 201 E Roosevelt.  We gather on the patio of Wilderness, and participants are welcome to eat and drink if they would like but are not pressured to do so.  The topic for Sunday, November 6 at 6:00 pm is Welcoming the Stranger.

2022 Heat Respite

We are in the last few weeks of Heat Respite fun at Grace. Volunteers and donors have kicked it up another notch, serving fresh fruit, oats, and warm coffee in the morning. We have been serving nachos, spaghetti, baked fruit, and other goodies in the afternoon. Yum!

Huge thanks to our congregational friends for sharing resources, water, and well wishes. Grace remains one of the front lines for groups in the valley to serve and share. MAJOR shout outs to Evalyn and the kitchen crews (Frankie, Lorraine, Devalyn, Jasmine (AM) Lisa, Michah, and Chris (PM). This week we have been working on caring for Grace to ensure it is a hospitable space for everyone. Recently Pastors Jacqui, Kristine, and Kari visited Grace and met with people in the North Room. We look forward to Bible Bingo on their next visit!

Choir & Music Ministry Meeting

All former, present, and future choir members, handbell ringers, and music ministry friends: please come to the choir room (behind the Chancel) on Sunday, September 18, after church (12:30 pm). We will discuss the present state of our music ministry and offer some plans for both the immediate future and also some long range possibilities. Duration: 1 hr.

Sermon for Sunday, August 7

Day of the Church Year: 9th Sunday after Pentecost

Scripture Passage: Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16

There’s a phrase in Latin ex nihilo that means “out of nothing,” usually referring to creation out of nothing. God creates ex nihilo, out of nothing. Today, the writer of Hebrews chronicles the ex nihilo faith of the ancients.

In the manner of the Old Testament, Genesis chapter 11 includes a genealogy, describing the lineage of a man named Abram and a woman name Sarai whose names would later be changed to Abraham and Sarah. At the end of chapter 11, we learn nothing of them but their family ties and their home region, and boom, chapter 12 opens: “Now the Lord said to Abram, ‘Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and the one who curses you I will curse; and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.’” The writer of Genesis tells us in the very next verse: “So Abram went.” Ex nihilo, out of nothing, Abram and Sarai go! With no prior revelation of God, with no years of faith formation, with nothing but the word of God, Abram and Sarai go leave their country, their kindred, their father’s house as God commands.

Similarly at the conclusion of the book of Genesis, Joseph comes into a seat of power in Egypt, relocating his whole family there. As the book of Exodus opens, however, the new pharaoh, the new king, does not remember Joseph and his family and enslaves them and their descendants—for 400 years. 400 years into their enslavement, a child named Moses is born, saved from death by the courageous midwives Shiprah and Puah, placed in a basket upon the water by his terrified mother, drawn from the water by pharaoh’s daughter, raised in pharaoh’s home meaning he is not raised within the religious tradition of his people. As an adult, Moses flees from Egypt. While herding sheep in the desert wilderness, Moses sees on a mountain a strange burning bush whose leaves are not consumed. God speaks to Moses from the bush and sends him back to Egypt to free God’s people from slavery. Ex nihilo, out of nothing, Moses goes! With no prior revelation of God, with no years of faith formation, with nothing but the word of God, Moses goes.

It is this ex nihilo faith that the writer of Hebrews commends today. For according to Hebrews, faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Faith, by its very definition, stands on hope. Not evidence. Not data. Not certainty. Hope.

I used to be certain.

I used to be certain that God existed, that scripture offered up black and white ethical guidelines, that the doctrines of the church reflected the laws of the universe.

I used to be certain.

Then, I went to college and was formed by serving at Bible camps, worked at a shelter and moved to the south side of Chicago to go to seminary. I learned about the world, met and learned from unforeseen challenges, listened to stories of life that sounded to my ears like they happened in a foreign country, not in the US, so far removed were they from my own experiences. In all this, I prayed daily and studied scripture, served as a hospital chaplain, earned a Master of Divinity degree, and led worship in college, in churches, hospitals, around campfires, at the shelter, at Holden Village, and in my seminary chapel.

And I was no longer certain. Instead, I had and have faith. I live with an assurance of things hoped for, a conviction of things not seen. I don’t know anymore if God exists, but I hope that God does. I have faith that God does. I have faith that the power of love trumps the power of sin, death, and evil. I have faith that the resurrection of Jesus means new life is possible even in a world filled with injustice, illness, death, hate, indifference.

The irony of faith is that it doesn’t increase with knowledge or practice. It has an ex nihilo quality. We don’t study our way into faith. We can study our way into greater understanding of biblical story, of church doctrine, of Christian tradition. We can practice our way into following Jesus just as we do nearly every Sunday during Faith in Motion and by the myriad ways we serve and love the world. But as some Christian leaders say, faith is “caught” more than “taught.” The reason the writer of Hebrews tells stories of the ancients, like Abram, Sarai, and Moses, is not to teach us their stories but to inspire us by their stories, to inspire by their faith.

Now, Grace Lutheran Church, maybe I haven’t told you before, but I tell others on the regular: You, dear people, make me believe in God. Your lives, the ways I see you live with courage and love, the ways I see you give of yourselves for the sake of others, your lives inspire faith in me. My convictions about a gracious God are not entirely unseen. For I see God’s grace at work in you and in our life together.

And it’s not just your faith that inspires me but the faith of so many who have come before us. The eleventh chapter of Hebrews is known as the “Roll of the Faithful,” lifting up the heroes of scripture, the kings and prophets and, mostly, the ordinary people assured of things hoped for, convicted of things not seen. The writer of Hebrews brings the Roll of the Faithful to a beautiful conclusion: “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us.” All the faithful who came before us, all the faithful who surround us today spur us on for lives of faith and hope. Especially here on Sunday mornings, because we read and study scripture, because we share our own witness in this place, we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses. And thanks be to God! Because, some days, faith and hope are in short supply. We can’t teach each other faith and hope, but we can sure catch it as we sing and pray, share the peace and receive Christ’s body and blood together.

Who are on your Roll of the Faith-full? Whose faith has inspired you and why? Let us name them and share just a sentence or two about their impact in our lives—that we may all be inspired by their faith and hope.

We lift up names and stories.

Let us pray. We give you thanks, O God, for these faithful whose faith and hope have inspired us for lives of faith and hope. Ever lift us up by this great cloud of witnesses that we might run with perseverance the race set before us. And all God’s people said: Amen!

Exploring Your Spiritual Gifts

What does God want of me? How am I to serve God? Do I have a spiritual gift? What is it? Perhaps you’ve asked yourself these questions and to help you answer them we invite you to the Exploring Your Spiritual Gifts Retreat. Through a series of exercises and conversations you will be guided in a process of discernment about your gifts. By the end of the retreat, you should know the gifts God has given you and begin to understand how God wants you to use them. So come join us August 6, 13, and 20, 2022 from 9:00 am-12:00 pm via Zoom. Register at https://www.diakonia.education the zoom link will be provided once you register. All are welcome! This event is sponsored by The Grand Canyon Synod Growing in Faith: Diakonia Program.

Middle School Lock-In

All youth entering grades 6-8 are welcomed and encouraged to attend the

MIDDLE SCHOOL LOCK-IN!

Friday, Aug 19 to Saturday, August 20, 6:00 pm to 9:00 am

Games! S’mores! Hanging out! Learning about Jesus!

Hosted by Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church, 1212 E Glendale Ave

Sign up with Pastor Sarah by August 16.

Bring a sleeping bag, pillow, change of clothes, toiletries, and a snack to share.

Theme: A More Excellent Way, 1 Corinthians 12:31

Sermon for Sunday, July 24

Day of the Church Year: 7th Sunday after Pentecost

Scripture Passage: Luke 11:1-13

Probably ten years ago, I remember detailing to a friend the worries of my heart, the complex problems I could not resolve.  I remember asking: What should I do?  How do I solve this?  My friend, also a Jesus-follower, asked: Have you prayed about it?  It was the perfect face-palm moment.  Because I hadn’t!  It hadn’t even occurred to me to pray!  I went and prayed immediately.  And of course, a solution emerged.

Similarly, towards the end of our recent soul journey to Holden Village, after waiting three hours at the boat dock, the boat taking us from the Holden boat dock to the small town of Chelan, Washington finally arrived.  Its lateness meant, after our boat ride, we missed the particular city bus meant to bring us from Chelan to Wenatchee, a larger city where we would stay the night.  We heaved our luggage to the bus stop and investigated the bus schedule.  Another bus would come soon, it told us.  We waited...and waited.  That part of Washington was under a heat warning that day with temperatures in the upper 90s.  We discovered places of shade and sat down.  I could feel our remaining energy drain from us.  Finally, I called out: Friends, let’s gather and pray.  Everyone wearily walked into my general vicinity, and I asked for a volunteer to keep their eyes open during the prayer in case our bus arrived.  I believe Hannah volunteered.  I began praying: “Gracious God, we are tired, and we pray for the bus, that it would come soon.”  Literally, right at that moment, Hannah cried out, “It’s the bus!”  We gratefully entered the air conditioned bus, sat down, and learned that our bus driver was in training and thus driving slower than his experienced co-workers. 

Likewise, just a couple days ago, someone was telling me about their housing search.  In this tight housing market, locating an apartment in her price range was challenging enough, without geographically restricting her search.  However, she really wanted to be in a particular neighborhood so that her daughter could walk to school.  She told me that, each day, she prayed very specifically that she would find an apartment in that particular neighborhood.  And lo and behold, she discovered an apartment right across the street from the school, an apartment in which she and her daughter are now living. 

Today, Jesus teaches the disciples to pray-what we now call the Lord’s Prayer.  He teaches the disciples to call out to God in their need.  He teaches the disciples that God responds to prayer like a loving parent or thoughtful friend.  Jesus instructs them: Ask, and it will be given you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you.

We could probably all tell stories about times we prayed and God responded in the way we hoped.  But Jesus’ teaching leads me to wonder: What about those times I have asked and the solution or desire or need has not been fulfilled?  What about the times I have searched and not found, the times I have knocked and the door has not been opened?  What about the times when it appears that God does not respond?  There is much suffering in our world.  Certainly, we are asking, searching, knocking.  What about that?

In my wondering, one thing I think about is that scene from the movie Bruce Almighty.  If you haven’t seen it, Bruce, played by Jim Carey, complains bitterly to God, so God decides to bestow all of God’s power on Bruce.  God, played by Morgan Freeman, takes a vacation.  At first, Bruce is delighted.  Look at everything he can do!  All the power he has!  The way he can benefit his own life!  After a while, though, the shine of being God dulls, and practical problems emerge.  In one scene, Bruce has to figure out how to answer prayers.  After trying various strategies for managing millions of prayers that constantly accumulate, he decides to streamline prayers into emails and responds to all of them at the same time.  “Yes” is his answer to every prayer.  Chaos ensues for many people win the lottery, each receiving $12.  Weather patterns shift, and strange tides cause “natural” disasters.  Athletic events end in ties because everyone prayed for their team to win. 

In this humorous way, “Bruce Almighty” helps us consider the impact of our needs and desires upon others.  If God were to answer all prayers in the ways for which we hoped, life would be far from perfect—not just for us but for all creation.  Sometimes, when we pray for things, we get in our own way, creating our own stumbling blocks even as God continues to work in our lives.  And sometimes, we pray for outcomes or events about which we do not know all the relevant details.  In fact, even when we pray for our own lives, sometimes, we don’t know what’s best for us.  But God does.  God knows what’s best for us and best for the world.  And we can only assume that God provides in ways that truly benefit us and all creation. 

Still, we cry out to God for healing, for comfort, for peace.  For what possible reason would God fail to answer our prayers as we hope in these situations?   

I don’t know. 

What I do know is that, when Jesus teaches the disciples about prayer, he assures them of a loving reception.  He instructs the disciples to call God abba, an Aramaic word best translated as “daddy.”  Jesus illustrates the grace of God with a little story about a friend who gets up in the middle of the night to provide bread for another friend.  He reminds the disciples that, if an earthly father cares for his children in the most mundane ways, how much more does our heavenly father care for us?  I don’t know why God appears to answer some prayers and not others, but I trust that God loves us. 

Perhaps God answers in ways we don’t understand, in ways we cannot yet perceive, in ways we’ll look back and see and go: Oh, yeah, yeah, I get it now.  Then again, perhaps not.  But, just as Jesus instructs, we go ahead and ask and search and knock anyway.  Even if we can’t understand everything about prayer, we trust that God hears us.  Even when we can’t understand what God does or why, we trust that God our abba, our friend, our heavenly father loves us.  Even with our questions, we call out to God in whose kingdom and power and glory we rest.  For that we can say: Thanks be to God!  Amen.