PhLY!

Join Phoenix Lutheran High School Youth, better known as PhLY, on Friday, December 2 from 6-9 pm for our Holiday Hoopla in Downtown Phoenix; we will be exploring First Friday Festivities. We will meet at Grace Lutheran Church (1124 N 3rd St., Phoenix) at 6 pm then walk around Roosevelt Row and surrounding areas. Bring friends and money for food trucks. Extra credit if you wear an ugly holiday sweater or hat.

Thanking Our Ministry Partners

We are recipients of great generosity by our ministry partners, and we try to consistently offer our written thanks to all those who contribute to Grace outreach ministries. We are looking for someone who could spend usually about 20-45 minutes per week writing thank you notes. All supplies will be provided, and this ministry can be done at home. If you are interested, please email Jasmine at officemanager@graceinthecity.com. Thank you for considering this!

Sermon for Sunday, October 30

Reformation Sunday

Scripture: John 8:31-36

I remember being a confirmation student, in 7th grade, when I first heard about Martin Luther, reformer of the church.  Around Reformation Sunday, we watched the old black and white Martin Luther movie, and my dad, who was my pastor and teacher, explained how Luther back in the 1500s in Germany nailed 95 theses to the door of the Wittenberg Castle Church.  Luther’s written declaration in defiance of the Roman Catholic Church of the time was highly controversial, exposing the corruption of the church, to the point that Luther went into hiding at Wartburg Castle for his safety.  Pope Leo X and Emperor Charles V demanded at the Diet of Worms, basically a holy trial, that Luther recant his writings.  Luther refused saying that his conscience was bound by the will of God, that he could not and would not renounce any of his writings.  “Here I stand; I can do no other,” he famously stated.  As a teenager, what amazed me was the controversy surrounding something purely theological.  Sure, elections (by the way, everyone, please vote), immigration, the size of the federal government, taxes, universal health care, abortion.  I get it.  These are controversial topics.  But grace?  Luther declared, simply, that the people of God were saved by God’s grace, and controversy ensued.  My 14-year-old brain could not compute a world where grace led to upset in the life of Martin Luther, in the church, in the world.

Perhaps, neither can we.  For Luther’s declaration, one which threatened his life, one which drug him before the pope and the emperor, meant that the people of his day, the people of our day, the people of every age need not earn, work for, or any other way labor for salvation.  Instead, Luther insisted, we are saved by God’s grace.  Not works.  Not repentance.  Not even by a declaration of faith.  Just the free, undeserved, unmerited favor of God.  It was this declaration that led to Luther’s excommunication, to his fame, and to the reformation of the church.  It was this declaration that changed the world, that changed the course of human history.  You may think I am exaggerating, but historians both inside and outside the church agree on this point—that Martin Luther left an indelible mark on the world.  And it was all because of grace.

The free, undeserved, unmerited favor of God is our namesake, the center of the Lutheran theological tradition, and the primary practice of a life of faith.  We first received God’s grace in holy baptism, grace  that frees us from the power of sin, death, and evil.  We receive God’s grace in holy communion each Sunday, grace that provides forgiveness of sin, life, and salvation.  We receive God’s grace in the word of God proclaimed, a word that guides our lives.  We receive God’s grace in community, in bonds of love, in relationships that transcend difference and slights and mistakes.  We are not always our best selves, but in this community, we give each other second and third and even fourth chances.  Because we have been shown grace, we are people of grace.   

I hope you know that we, the people of Grace Lutheran Church, are witnesses of God’s grace to our sister congregations in the Grand Canyon Synod of the ELCA, to the congregations of various denominations who partner with us in ministry, to the member institutions of the Hance Park Conservancy which surround the park, and to our community at large.  And what I mean is, people know the grace of God because of our communal witness.  For we—together—have stumbled, and I do mean stumbled, into a way of being that is loving and gracious.  I know sometimes it doesn’t feel like this way of being together as God’s people is particularly successful or loving or gracious.  When the roof is leaking and the A/V doesn’t work.  When the west parking meter takes a full five minutes to process a charge and we are still picking up cigarette butts from the flower beds.  When we are replacing sprinkler heads on the north lawn again and the lift in the sanctuary is stuck again because someone forced the door closed. 

Ha!  Life at Grace is not perfect, not by a long shot, and neither are we perfect.  But what I will carry in my heart from these twelve years at Grace is how we showed up for each other to mourn the death and celebrate the lives of the saints and how we prayed for each other at prayer retreats.  How we showed up in the church kitchen to serve biscuits and gravy, to serve GLOW meals, to prepare heat respite lunches, to fill Food Angel boxes.  How we showed up en masse to serve Oktoberfest brats and to celebrate the 500th anniversary of the Reformation.  How we showed up for Ministry Nights and council meetings.  How we gathered for GLOW—to eat together and celebrate birthdays, to engage in civil dialogue and story circles, to study scripture and sing What A Fellowship, What A Joy Divine.  How we got lost together on the Oregon mission trip, served—and walked--together all over Manhattan and DC, not to mention weeks of Campformation, lock-ins, and confirmation classes.  How we danced and sang and crafted together during Vacation Bible School and performed Christmas programs donned in angel wings and robes.  How we traveled together by plane, party bus, city bus, school bus, and boat on our way to and from Holden Village.  How we sang Holden Evening Prayer together during Lent and washed each other’s feet on Maundy Thursdays.  Even how we argued and disagreed, how we triangulated and gossiped, how we made huge mistakes—but by the grace of God forgave each other and learned new ways of communicating.  There are really so many memories that no sharing could do them justice, but most of all, I will carry in my heart how we showed up for worship—to put our faith in motion, to pray for each other, to sing, to share the peace, to receive in bread and wine the body and blood of Christ.  All the times we showed up and served in countless ways, all the hours we have spent here together, it wasn’t because we were earning points with God.  Rather, what we have encountered at Grace is the grace of God poured out, a grace that frees us, just like Jesus says in today’s gospel, a grace that upsets our lives, the church, and the world in all the good ways.

As we go into our daily lives, at work or school, at the library or the grocery store, in our neighborhoods or among our families, God’s grace isn’t just the name of this church, and it isn’t just the central doctrine of the Lutheran tradition.  God’s grace is what we share when we forgive, when we serve, when we care about people for no other reason than we just care about people.  God’s grace, that we have received many times over, is our gift to share with a world that struggles right now to love each other, to even talk to each other.  So, on this Reformation Sunday, we celebrate God’s great love for us and all creation, a love and grace that, when shared, upsets our lives, the church, and the world in all the right ways.  For that, may we proclaim: Thanks be to God!  Amen.

Sermon for Sunday, October 23

Day of the Church Year: 20th Sunday after Pentecost

Scripture Passage: Luke 18:9-14

Our Jesus story today involves two Jewish men at prayer, two men of distinctly different social statuses, two men who have very different opinions of themselves.  One of them believes himself to be unfettered by sin, the other languishing in it.  One of them praises God that he is not a sinner like his neighbor while the other simply hopes that God is merciful.  At the story’s conclusion, Jesus commends the humble man and declares him justified.  For, Jesus says, all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted. 

Most of the time, I’m doing something to follow Jesus.  I’m serving or praying or studying.  But exercising humility?  I’m not sure what to do because practicing humility for the sake of practicing humility is a spiritual trap.

Perhaps snippets from my own inner monologue will sound familiar to you.

“Ooh, I am so annoyed by that person’s arrogance.  Thank goodness I’m humble.”  OR

“That person has so much to learn.  I can’t believe they are saying x about x topic which I know so much more about.”

Assuming my inner monologue is not unique to me, how do we exercise humility?  Exercising humility can trap us because--

The way of humility is not devolving into low self-esteem or putting ourselves down.

The way of humility is not celebrating the tax collector and thereby also looking down at the Pharisee which would, ironically, be the very thing for which Jesus criticizes the Pharisee. 

The way of humility is not strategically being humble in order to be exalted.

In my numerous readings of this Jesus story, however, I noticed for the first time the word “justified.”  At the story’s conclusion, Jesus declares: the tax collector went down to his home justified rather than the Pharisee.  For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.  And then, the story started to open up.  Because haven’t we all sought self-justification at some time?

This past week while participating in a large group conversation about ministry, a pastor raised a question about how to work with someone who accused them of doing something the pastor did not do.  The accusing person was apparently grieving, in the midst of a difficult time in their life, and was not in the healthiest mindset, thus the random accusation.  Two people responded to the question, and I was struck by their differing responses, both from professionals in their fields.  One of the respondents advised my colleague to reason with the person, to offer a new perspective on the situation, to share reasons why the accusation was false.  The other respondent, someone skilled in communication, said: I would just apologize. 

We probably all know the pull of self-justification like the first respondent.  That moment when someone accuses us of something we did not actually do.  That moment when we feel overcome by guilt.  That moment when someone tells us they feel sad or hurt or angry about something we actually did.  That moment we discover we did not fulfill others’ unspoken expectations.  We rush to defend ourselves.  Right?  “I didn’t do it.”  OR “Here’s why I did it.”  OR “You’re so sensitive.”  OR “You didn’t tell me what you wanted.  What do you expect?” We seek to justify ourselves, to justify our actions.  And not just to other people but to God and to ourselves.  To not defend ourselves in situations like these feels like people getting away with murder, right?  There’s no justice in that.  We feel this strong pull to change the other person’s view of us—or even to change God’s view of us—or change our view of ourselves.  We want to justify ourselves.

While stewing over the topic of humility, I wondered: does anyone actually let go of self-justification and exercise humility?  God is good because, yesterday morning, God granted me a wonderful brunch with a 19 year old friend.  She is finding out how difficult the workaday world can be, how tricky it can be to navigate relationships with co-workers.  A particular co-worker offers up jabs my friend politely calls “unnecessary.”  But my friend tells me her co-worker is going through a difficult time having just moved to Arizona after getting a divorce.  Her co-worker is adjusting to a new city in a new work environment without the support of her family and friends after what was likely a tumultuous separation.  My friend said to me: I just try not to listen to what she says about me because I know it’s not true.  And my friend carries on, doing her job, and even supporting her co-worker.    

At the heart of the Lutheran theological tradition, don’t go to sleep, this is actually relevant!  At the heart of the Lutheran theological tradition lies what is called the doctrine of justification.  This is not a doctrine about how we, the people of God, make ourselves right before God.  It’s not a doctrine about how we make ourselves right in the view of other people.  No, the central doctrine of the Lutheran theological tradition says that we are justified by God’s grace.  By God’s grace.  No one else is involved in our justification, not us, not our hurt neighbor, not our grieving co-worker, just God.  Turns out, there is no need for us to justify ourselves before God, before others, or before ourselves because God has already done so.  Whether we are the arrogant Pharisee or the humble tax collector, God’s grace justifies us.  And for that, we can say: Thanks be to God!  Amen. 

Interim Pastor

Dear Grace Lutheran Church and Community,

Your Interim Pastor Nominating Committee is very pleased to present new Interim Pastor, Retired Pastor Philip Norman Gustafson. Pastor Phil was approved and accepted on Wednesday, October 5, 2022. Pastor Phil is an ELCA Certified Coach (Level 1) and has worked with pastors in transition and will begin the process of assisting Grace through its transition on Tuesday, November 1, 2022.

Pastor Phil received his Master in Divinity in 1979 from The Lutheran Theological Seminary in Philadelphia, PA and was Ordained June 9, 1979 by Western PA-West VA Synod, LCA. From 1979 until 2020, Pastor Phil served 10 Parishes, first in the LCA and then ELCA. His last posting, as Interim Pastor, was at Shepherd of the Desert Lutheran Church, Sun City, AZ.

During his more than forty-three years of service, Pastor Phil has served the church beyond the congregation by being active in area ecumenical ministeriums. He has also served the Synod as Confirmation Camping; Synod Social Ministry Committee and Task Force for ministries to the unemployed (WPA-WVA Synod LCA); Evangelism Committee (New England Synod LCA & ELCA) and Region 7 Evangelism; Central States Synod Stewardship (storyteller) and Youth retreat planning; ELCA Youth Gatherings 1997; 2000; 2006; SWPA Synod Council; FCTE Mentor; Ministry Committee, Coaching Coordinator for Grand Canyon Synod.

Pastor Phil and his wife Sandy lives in Sun City, Arizona. His extended family includes children – eldest Philip James Gustafson (PJ) and his wife Heather and daughters Hannah and Audrey; second born Timothy Daniel Gustafson and his wife Rhea and daughter Elin and son Kellan; youngest is Britta Jacqueline Sheen and husband Andrew Sheen, daughters Carsyn and Eden and son Donald Andrew III (Drew)

Pastor Phil’s leisure activities include Golf, Chess, Fishing, Hiking, Reading, Storytelling and listening, and camping.

The Council is excited about Pastor Phil. We all look forward to strengthening and growing our church with his able guidance.

Grace Interim Pastor
Nominating Committee
Sheila Petry (Chair)
Fran Fry
Andrea Sigala
Roger Ark

Yours in Christ,

Sheila Petry

GLC Council President

PhLY

All high-schoolers come join PhLY on Saturday, Nov 19 from 10:00 am-3:00 pm, as we help the West Valley Lutheran Thrift Store (10615 W Peoria Ave, Sun City) get ready for their holiday season! We will be putting together a forest of holiday trees. Last year we helped put together an entire storage unit of trees and other holiday decorations. Extra credit points if you come dressed in an elf hat!

Sermon for Sunday, October 9

The year I turned 23, I prayed regularly with folks at the shelter where I worked on the west side of Chicago.  Everyone who lived at the shelter was healing from a broken bone or a recent surgery or was living with a chronic illness like HIV.  Nearly everyone was new to sobriety from crack and walking that difficult, daily walk.  I was a middle class little white girl who had encountered few challenges in life up to that point, raised in a small Minnesota town by my still happily married parents and afforded every opportunity for growth and learning.  At the dinner table in our house, we spoke most nights about the challenges people in our community faced and about how we could be good neighbors but not really about how privileged we were or how blessed we were.  To be honest, when I first started working at the shelter, I saw our residents only as people bowed down by struggle and hardship, as people of sorrow who had encountered countless setbacks and hard knocks.  …and then I began praying with people.  To my utter astonishment, the vast majority of people’s prayers began this way: Thank you, God, for waking me up this morning.  Thank you for giving me strength in my arms and legs that I can stand up and walk.  Yes, people prayed for mended bones and restored relationships with family, but far more than anything, people thanked God.  People thanked God for a safe place to sleep, for health care, for food every day.  In all my 23 years of being a Christian, it had never occurred to me to thank God for strength in my arms and legs, for waking me up in the morning.  All along, God had been waking me up in the morning and giving me strength in my arms and legs.  All along, God had been providing for me in extraordinary ways, but I had never noticed. 

In our Jesus story today, ten people with leprosy call out to Jesus for mercy.  In the ancient world, leprosy caused physical pain as well as emotional pain for people with leprosy were marginalized and shunned, even by family.  In this way, leprosy was both a social illness and a physical one.  When these ten call out to Jesus for mercy, he tells them to go show themselves to the priests, a necessary act of ritual cleansing.  They go, and on their way, they are healed.  One comes back, a Samaritan, someone marginalized and shunned by the Jewish community not only because of the leprosy but because of their religious and cultural background.  This one, only one, comes back to thank Jesus and to praise God.  The other nine don’t, but this one recognizes the gift of their healing and their restoration to community.  And Jesus commends him, saying, “Your faith has made you well.”        

Today, this Samaritan teaches us that gratitude is to recognize the abundant gifts of God.

The story, it seems, everywhere is that leaders are corrupt, the world harsh and mean, the brokenness overwhelming.  According to every news source.  According to the stories we tell about our own lives.  There is truth in these stories; of course there is.  Still, God is good, and love and hope abound.  God wakes us up every morning to a new day, and even when those we love do not wake to the new day with us, still, there is gift to behold.  Maybe gratitude for God’s gifts seems too gentle, too joyous, a ridiculous focus in the midst of devastating climate change and nuclear tension, in the midst of our own illnesses and challenges related to housing or employment or a million other things.  But how do we solve these problems?  How do we get up from under all that might weigh us down?  How do we move forward when stuck between a rock and a hard place?  Will we push against the ocean and scream until we are red in the face, or will we first give thanks for all that God has done and is doing and will do?  Will we name with raw astonishment the grace of God in this moment?  Or as poet Linda Pastan writes in her poem entitled Imaginary Conversation:

You tell me to live each day

As if it were my last.  This is in the kitchen

Where before coffee I complain

Of the day ahead—that obstacle race

Of minutes and hours,

Grocery stores and doctors.

 

But why the last?  I ask.  Why not

Live each day as if it were the first—

All raw astonishment, Eve rubbing

Her eyes awake that first morning,

The sun coming up

Like an ingenue in the east?

 

You grind the coffee

With the small roar of a mind

Trying to clear itself.  I set

The table, glance out the window

Where dew has baptized every

Living surface.

 

Not even the real, gritty challenges of this life can erase the grace of God poured out for us.  Like Eve on that first morning, we can rub our eyes and look around with raw astonishment at all that God has done.  Like the Samaritan, we can thank Jesus and praise God when we recognize what God’s been up to in our lives.  Like the people of God gathered at that west-side shelter, we can rise each morning and say, “Thank you, God, for waking me up this morning!”  With eyes of faith, we see not only our challenges and our struggles but God’s grace poured out everywhere.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.

Stewardship Campaign 2023: Creating Community at Grace Lutheran Church

We are Grace Lutheran Church! As we move into the future, especially at this time of transition, we get to consider anew how God is calling us. During our stewardship campaign this year, we will reflect on who we are as Grace Lutheran Church, who God is calling us to be, what role each of us will play in our shared ministry, and what we are excited about for the future. As recipients of God's many gifts—our time, talents, and treasures, we steward them for the sake of God's mission here. Look for a letter sharing more about this year's stewardship campaign in early November, and then throughout November, we will together consider these questions.

Sermon for Sunday, October 2

Day of the Church Year: 17th Sunday after Pentecost

Scripture Passage: Luke 17:5-10

We have probably all been there sometime in our lives.  The alarm goes off bright and early.  We set it the night before so we could exercise.  We had read and heard and been told by our doctor that exercise is good for us, the silver bullet in terms of health and well-being.  We have listened to friends and neighbors and family members say in the midst of difficulty, “At least I have my health.”  We agree that we want to care for our health.  We want to live to see our grandchildren graduate from high school.  We want to enjoy retirement.  Or simply, we want to feel good.  Yet when the alarm goes off bright and early, we press snooze and convince ourselves that it’s quite alright to skip exercising today.  Exercise is easier in theory than practice.

As Jesus followers, we have probably all been there.  A co-worker or a family member, a neighbor or another church member wrongs us.  As Jesus followers, we know forgiveness is what Jesus teaches.  For years, we have listened to sermons on forgiving others seventy times seven times.  We have advised others, perhaps our children, to forgive those who hurt them.  We have read and seen stories of radical forgiveness, how powerful it is when a survivor forgives a perpetrator of violence.  But when someone wrongs us, all of those good intentions to forgive now seem impossible, unjust, and even silly.  Forgiveness is easier in theory than in practice.

Just prior to today’s Jesus teaching, the apostles—the twelve who are normally called the disciples in Matthew, Mark, and John but apostles in Luke—receive instruction about forgiveness.  It’s a seldom read passage where Jesus says: “If the same person sins against you seven times a day, and turns back to you seven times and says, ‘I repent,’ you must forgive.”  It’s directly after these words that the apostles cry out “Increase our faith!”  It’s only after they hear these very specific instructions about how to put their faith in motion that the apostles cry out, “Increase our faith!”  Apparently, they do not believe they possess enough faith to forgive someone seven times a day.  Jesus waxes eloquent about faith the size of a mustard seed yet doesn’t seem to respond to their request.  Instead, he reminds them, strangely, of the common master-slave dynamic of the first century.  Is a slave thanked for doing what is commanded?  No, of course not.  Per Jesus’ command, the apostles should then confess: “We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!” 

Instead of Jesus saying, “Yes, apostles, you are right.  You need more faith.  Here ya go,” instead of Jesus just handing over faith like a wrapped gift, Jesus extols the apostles to do what he has commanded.  To forgive the same person seven times a day.  To also care for and enter into relationship with those most vulnerable as we heard in last week’s parable.  To welcome sinners and eat with them.  To pick up their cross and follow Jesus.  To practice humility.  To witness Jesus’ ministry and to go and do likewise.  In doing what Jesus commands, their faith will increase.  

For faith is practice, not theory.  We might feel short on faith.  We might be filled with doubt.  We might have lots of questions.  We might wonder if we have the right answers about God.  We might be preoccupied with what we believe in our heads about God.  But today, Jesus indicates that faith is practice, not theory.  And our faith grows when we practice the acts of one who follows Jesus.  Faith is not handed to us like a wrapped gift but is born in us through practice—and honestly, quite often through struggle. 

At GLOW, Grace Lutheran On Wednesdays, this fall, we are reading poetry alongside scripture, and this past week, we read the poem “Fear” by Kahlil Gibran and read the story of Jesus walking on the water and Peter trying to walk on the water from Matthew.  One of the messages of the poem is how we must face our fears just like Peter faced his fear by getting out of the boat.  In our discussion of fear and courage, Cecil talked about the first time he had to face a particular fear.  He said, the next time he encountered a fear of that same magnitude, facing it was easier than it had been the first time.  That as he faced his fears again and again, his capacity to face his fears also increased. 

I think the same is true of faith…and of exercise.  😊 Once we get started, once we practice forgiveness, once we get serving, once we begin to love others regardless, forgiveness, service, and love become easier.  Once we get up and exercise three days a week every week for three months, suddenly, it’s not so hard.  Thanks be to God!  Faith is not something God plants in our hearts in Holy Baptism only for it to remain there un-practiced all the days of our lives.  The mustard seed of faith God gifts us begins with childlike trust in the grace and love of God but grows as we put our faith in motion.  Without the nurture of action, faith can stagnate.  When we cry out, “Increase our faith!” Jesus says, “Follow me.” 

If today we, like the apostles, worry that our faith is not enough, rest assured, we have already received a mustard seed of faith in baptism.  Now, we go and follow Jesus.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.

LAMA (Lutheran Advocacy Ministry of Arizona) Summit

Join Rev. Eugene Cho of Bread for the World, Lutheran advocates and friends at Holy Trinity Lutheran Church in Chandler, Arizona for the third annual LAMA Summit on Saturday, November 5, 2022 from 9:00 am - 12:00 pm to learn and to share, as we voice our common needs in the public square, activating our faith in love. Hear from the Rev. Eugene Cho, president and CEO of Bread for the World, meet congregational LAMA liaisons, meet your LAMA policy council, and meet other Lutherans across Arizona who share a common belief that we are called through our baptismal covenant “…to strive for justice and peace in all the earth.” To register, click here: LAMA Summit 2022 Registration (google.com). For questions, contact Solveig Muus, LAMA Director, at director@lamaz.org.

Potluck for Pastor Sarah

Twelve years ago, Grace Lutheran Church and the surrounding community was blessed with a guide, teacher, and servant in Pastor Sarah Stadler. We are grateful for the countless ways the Holy Spirit has worked in and through Pastor Sarah, strengthening her for ministry among God’s people at Grace, in the community, and in the world. Celebrate Pastor Sarah’s ministry with us on October 30, at 12:30 pm in Hope Hall, for a potluck as we wish her well on her future endeavors. The main dish will be provided by Grace; side dishes, appetizers, and desserts are welcome. There will be a signup sheet in Hope Hall. You may contact Jasmine (officemanager@graceinthecity.com) for more information.

Congregational Meeting

Please join a congregational meeting to discuss a roof replacement proposal for Hope Hall and the breezeway and vote on it on Sunday, October 9 at 9:45 am in Hope Hall.  Per our constitution, we must have a quorum in order to vote.  The council is proposing we accept the estimate from Lyons Roofing for approximately $51,000.  For questions prior to the meeting, please contact Roger Ark at rogerark@msn.com.

Sermon for Sunday, September 25

Day of the Church Year: 16th Sunday after Pentecost

Scripture Passage: Luke 16:19-31

In the early 1990s, Chip had a 4 year old daughter and a subscription to one of the news magazines, Time or Newsweek.  On the cover of one of the issues appeared an emaciated child, a child clearly experiencing malnourishment and hunger, the headline about the famine in Somalia.  In considering this image, Chip’s daughter asked a question.  The question could have been: Why is this child hungry? Or what can I do to help this child? Or perhaps an adult question like: What systems or natural disasters are creating widespread hunger in Somalia?  But what Chip’s 4 year old daughter asked her dad was: What’s her name?  What’s the name of the child who’s hungry?

The most challenging aspect of Jesus’ parable today is that it’s so clear.  Excruciating in its irony and simplicity, Jesus teaches his disciples as well as the Pharisees gathered round the ethic of love.  Lazarus lays at the gate of the rich man’s home while the rich man wears purple and fine linen, signs of his great wealth, and feasts sumptuously every day.  Both men die, Lazarus joining Father Abraham, the rich man entering Hades.  In the torment of Hades, the rich man calls on Father Abraham to send Lazarus to him with water, that he might cool his tongue.  Even in the afterlife, the rich man believes Lazarus is there to serve him which Father Abraham quickly shuts down.  In concern for his family, the rich man then requests that Lazarus be sent to the rich man’s family to warn them of what is to come for those who ignore vulnerable people.  Again, Father Abraham declines and says his family can listen to Moses and the prophets who consistently articulated the necessity of caring for those who are vulnerable.  The rich man protests saying, if someone comes back from the dead, they will listen.  And Abraham declares in a moment of foreshadowing, “If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.” 

Because Jesus’ parable is apocalyptic in nature, not meant to be taken literally, Jesus speaks not of how to avoid an afterlife in Hades or how to hold a conversation with someone in heaven while in hell.  No.  Rather, Jesus speaks of love, the greatest of all the commandments: to love God and to love our neighbor as we love ourselves.  This greatest commandment can be paralyzing.  How do we truly love God, love our neighbor, love ourselves in a world troubled by so many disasters and injustices all at once?  In the deep and stormy sea of our world’s problems lies people, people in Ukraine and Pakistan, people in south Phoenix and Scottsdale, people next door and people camping on deserted lots.  People who got up this morning and saw the sun, heard the birds chirp and felt the breeze on their skin.  People who get hungry and thirsty, who fall in love and yearn to contribute to the common good.  People who make mistakes and are caught in systems beyond their control.  People shaped by the cultures and religions and families into which they were born.  We are also these people.  While love requires action systemic and political, and while our neighbors live near and far, including strangers we will never meet, certainly, our neighbors include the people who lay right in our path, like Lazarus laid at the gate of the rich man. 

Jesus’ apocalyptic parable does not provide instruction about afterlife or salvation but about how we live here, now.  Just as all apocalyptic tales do, this one reveals a truth still relevant two thousand years later: that a joyous life is full of relationships.  Not acts of charity but knowing our neighbor and being known, listening to them and being listened to, helping and being helped, knowing their name and having ours known as well. 

Did you notice that the rich man knows the name of Lazarus—but that the rich man has no name in this parable?  Surely, we might think, if the rich man knows the name of the vulnerable man lying at his gate, he has loved the man as the law commands.  Yet apparently, the rich man did not introduce himself.  He did not allow himself to be known by someone he may have believed was beneath him.

A few years ago, I remember struggling with this particular lesson: of how to love others in personal, specific ways.  So I asked a friend who excels in this area how he loves people in particular.  My friend said: When I meet someone new, no matter the context, no matter the person, I offer my hand, introduce myself, and open my heart to them.  People will respond however they want, and we have no control over that.  But I offer my hand, introduce myself, and open my heart to them.

When we follow God’s command to love God, neighbor, and self, when we risk entering relationship, it’s not only the other person who gets to be loved.  We get to be loved too.  When we learn the name of the person in our path, we get to share ours too.  This is the good news: love is not just a command to us but a promise for us.  Thanks be to God!  Amen.

Sunday Schedule

7:30 am-8:15 am Community Pancake Breakfast

8:30 am-9:30 am Contemporary Worship in Hope Hall

10:00 am-10:45 am Grace Time Bible Study in the North Room

10:00 am-10:45 am Sunday Spirit in the Basement

11:00 am-12:15 pm Traditional Worship in the Sanctuary

All are welcome!

Last Quarterly Pizza & Ministry Night

Our last ever Quarterly Pizza & Ministry Night will be Tuesday, September 27 at 6:30 pm in the North Room with pizza! We will be transitioning to a new form of meeting in the coming months, but please join in this last Ministry Night. We will mostly discuss the pastoral transition process.  If you wish to join by zoom, click on the link below.

https://us02web.zoom.us/j/85694929704?pwd=MEpBTTZpbXE1ZWRJQ21ZUFRFQkVPZz09

Noche en Blanco

Noche en Blanco is a beautiful picnic held annually in Hance Park, an event of the Hance Park Conservancy of which Grace is a member. This year's Noche en Blanco is Saturday, October 29, 5:00-10:00 pm. To learn more and to attend this community event which is a fundraiser for the Conservancy, click here:

Hance Park Conservancy announces the seventh annual “Noche en Blanco” multicultural community celebration — Hance Park Conservancy Phoenix (hanceparkphx.org)