Seventh Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 13:1-11

A pastor I knew once told me how he changed the format of the Lord’s Prayer in a congregation where he was serving from the words that we frequently use, with “trespasses” and “temptation” to a version that asks God “to forgive our sins” and “save us from the time of trial”. When someone complained that the new version wasn’t what Jesus prayed, Pastor Ernie explained that neither was the earlier version. None of the versions of the Lord’s Prayer that we use today in worship are exactly like the prayers we find here in Luke or in Matthew.

But both Gospel writers include a phrase near the beginning that is preserved in what we say: “hallowed be thy name”.

“Hallowed” is often translated as an adjective, but in the Greek, in both Matthew and Luke, it is a verb.

“Hallowed be thy name,” is an invitation for God to act in the world. It is not simply praise. It is not to say, “Holy is your name,” it is a request for God to act in the world so that God’s name would be made holy.[i]

In the Common English Bible, the translation is “uphold the holiness of your name”. With our prayer, we are asking God to show God’s presence in the world so that people will know God’s name and know who God is.[ii]

That is a very different prayer posture than coming to God wanting God to fulfill our desires or meet our needs.

In fact, in his explanation of this petition, Martin Luther says that God’s name is hallowed “whenever the word of God is taught clearly and purely and we, as God’s children, also live holy lives according to it.”[iii]

The late Eugene Peterson in his book Working the Angles wrote:

We want life on our conditions, not God’s conditions. Praying puts us at risk of getting involved in God’s conditions... Praying most often doesn’t get us what we want but what God wants….[iv] (emphasis mine)

In prayer, we invite God to include us in God’s work in the world. And commit to live according to God’s design and will, even when it is uncomfortable or unexpected.

Remember this is a continuation of the conversations Jesus has been having with his disciples for the last several Sundays. He began by talking about the kingdom of God and loving our neighbors and he told the story of the Good Samaritan. He taught us to set aside the preconceptions we may have about the strangers we meet and love unconditionally.

Then he dined with Martha and Mary and continued to talk about the hospitality of God’s people and the importance of being present with those who are with us. He reminded us to focus on what’s important, listening to Jesus and knowing how much God loves each of us and our unique gifts.

And now he is talking about God’s own work in the world, and how God listens and responds to us - with more generosity than a loving parent and an invitation to help others see God’s abundant and transforming love in action.

Peterson reminds us,

Prayer is our response to the initiative of God. [God] is always the conversation starter, and we are always the conversation responder.[v]

As we enter the last full month of summer, and we continue to grow as disciples or followers of Jesus, I wonder how we can respond to what we see God doing and how we can participate in God’s invitation to show others who God is.

We have opportunities locally and globally.

We regularly have wooden beams in the reception area that we are invited to sign with prayers for new homeowners participating in programs with Habitat for Humanity. And other times, we have food drives to help hungry neighbors. We often help nearby neighbors with resources or connect them with partners who can help even more.

Many of you are already familiar with our support of Anastasis Baptist Church in Durango, Mexico, and today after worship, some of us will listen and learn more about another church, this one in Madagascar, that we have supported. Their congregation - more than 9,000 miles away and in a different hemisphere - is praying for us even now.

And we covet those prayers because we know God’s ways are not our ways and often, we are called to work that is unexpected. May we always respond with openness and a commitment to hallow God, helping others know and experience the abundant love our Holy God offers us all.  Amen.

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[i] “Proper 12C” Pulpit Fiction. https://www.pulpitfiction.com/notes/proper12c
[ii] ibid
[iii] Luther’s Small Catechism, Study Edition. 35.
[iv] Eugene Peterson. Working the Angles. 44.
[v] ibid, 45.

Sixth Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 10:38-42
 
One of my favorite stories of sisters is the movie The Parent Trap. I loved the original but the one I remember even better is the remake that came out when my children were little. If you don’t know the story, it’s about two girls who meet at summer camp and immediately become bitter enemies. They are polar opposites. They cause enough chaos that eventually they are punished by being put in a solitary cabin together. And that’s where they figure out that they are identical twins who had been separated as babies; one was raised by mom and the other by dad. Together they concoct a scheme to reunite their family, swapping places when the summer camp is over and it’s time to go home. Predictably, things don’t go according to plan and the movie makes us all witnesses to what happens next and all the ways that different personalities, habits and feelings make life and family beautifully messy and complicated.
 
Today’s gospel gives us another sister story, and it’s a story that has been used to divide sisters and women into two camps of their own. In error, it has been used to contrast different ways of being and value one way of being over the other and diminish one in favor of the other.
 
I believe those interpretations miss the point.
 
While Martha provides generous hospitality, and Mary practices devotion, that isn’t what matters in this story.
 
Our relationship with God is not dependent on what we bring to the table. We are beloved by God because God says so, not because we have done anything to earn our salvation, to merit our welcome or to deserve the mercy we are given.
 
While the story compares Martha and her sister Mary, and the ways they are different, God isn’t favoring one or the other. Service is praised in Luke’s gospel. Martha doesn’t turn away the guests at her door, and she doesn’t suggest they come back at a more convenient time. She doesn’t ask for more money or groceries to prepare.  Instead, she gets to work to meet the needs in front of her.
 
What Jesus calls out is Martha’s frustration and distraction. When she becomes anxious and overwhelmed, she turns in on herself and away from her guest who is Christ himself.
 
We know from Scripture and from our life together that, for some, discipleship is lived out in the details of the common life, and for others, in service to the Word.[i] Both are needed. But Jesus reminds us that the center of any discipleship practice is Christ.
 
Anytime we do anything, we are called to do it in Christ’s name and for God’s glory, not for ourselves or not for own recognition. We are called to share the light of God shining from within us and we are called to share God’s abundant love with others.
 
God creates each of us with our unique gifts and abilities and there are many different ways of living our lives of discipleship. “New occasions teach new duties.”[ii] We must identify when we are called to engage in service and when we are called to sit and listen. We aren’t bound by a binary choice of one or the other. We can do both.
 
What the story tells us about God is
that God always meets us where we are.
 
God comes into our lives to be in relationship with us. Not because we make the softest cookies or the most savory barbecue, or even the best coffee. And not because we can recite the name of the books of the Bible or the Apostle’s Creed from memory.
 
God wants us to draw near that we may know God, and experience God’s grace for us.
 
To know we are loved even when we have nothing to offer; in baptism we are brought to the font by parents and we are given the gift of welcome because of what God has done, not us.
 
To know that at the altar, the table we gather around is not mine or yours, but God’s; God is the host, inviting us to be fed and nourished, sustained from one day to the next.
 
Wherever we are, we are in God’ presence, and we are welcomed and loved just as we are.
 
May we always find our place with Jesus, trusting that we are loved because God says so and for no other reason.
Amen.

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[i] Douglas John Hall. “Proper 11.” Feasting on the Word Commentary: Pentecost and Season after Pentecost 1 (Propers 3-16). Kindle, 662.
[ii] ibid, 661.

Fifth Sunday after Pentecost

I first preached this sermon in Spanish; the English translation is below.

Lucas 10:25-37

Oremos… Que las palabras de mi boca y las meditaciones de nuestros corazónes sean gratas ante ti, oh Señor, nuestra fortaleza y nuestro redentor. Amén.

Jesús a menudo enseña contando historias que llamamos parábolas, y en el evangelio de hoy, Lucas incluye una parábola que Jesús comparte cuando un maestro de la ley le pregunta: "¿Qué debo hacer para heredar la vida eterna?" (10:25). Jesús responde con su propia pregunta y luego el maestro, experto en la Torá, responde, y luego hace una pregunta adicional.

Esta parábola, a menudo llamada la parábola del Buen Samaritano, solo se incluye en el evangelio de Lucas, un texto conocido por mostrar cómo seguir a Jesús implica cruzar fronteras.

Sabemos que los discípulos no siempre entendieron las parábolas, y al leer esta parábola, me pregunto qué nos está diciendo Jesús.

El pastor Brian Stoffregen señala que si Jesús solo intentaba enseñar a sus discípulos a ser misericordiosos con una persona necesitada, no habría razón para identificar a los personajes como sacerdote, un levita y un samaritano.

Él explica la animosidad entre Judea y Samaria, escribiendo:

Durante una antigua guerra israelíta, la mayoría de los judíos que vivían en el norte de Samaria fueron asesinados o llevados al exilio. Sin embargo, algunos judíos, tan insignificantes que nadie los quería, fueron dejados en Samaria.

El describe cómo los matrimonios mixtos y la mezcla de creencias y culturas religiosas crearon una división entre los judíos del norte y del sur, y cómo los samaritanos entendían la Torá de manera diferente y adoraban a Dios en el Monte Gerizim, no en Jerusalén.

Stoffregen argumenta que, si Jesús estuviera criticando a los poderosos líderes religiosos, el tercer personaje habría sido un laico común, un “judío regular”.

Y, si la lección hubiera sido amar a nuestros enemigos, entonces el hombre tirado en el camino habría sido el samaritano, cuidado por un bondadoso israelita.

¿Qué opinas tu?

Al escuchar esta parábola, ¿te ves reflejado en la historia?

Al leer esta parábola, recuerdo que lo que nos salva y nos da vida eterna siempre es la acción de Dios por nosotros. Nunca es nuestro propio esfuerzo, méritos ni buenas obras.

Por muy tentador que sea vernos en el papel del bueno u obediente, y asumir que seríamos heroicos y bondadosos, creo que podríamos vernos más verdaderamente en aquel que fue dado por muerto en el camino a Jericó.

El que fue golpeado, asaltado y abandonado.

El que, inerte en el camino, impulsó al levita y luego al sacerdote a cruzar al otro lado para evitarlo. 

La mayoría de nosotros hemos vivido momentos en nuestras vidas y en nuestras historias en los que hemos recibido golpes devastadores, hemos sido abatidos por enemigos o atormentados por el dolor o la enfermedad. Momentos en los que nos hemos sentido invisibles o ignorados por las personas que razonablemente esperaríamos que nos cuidaran. Y podemos identificarnos con el aislamiento y la desesperación de este hombre.

Solo el samaritano se acercó lo suficiente para verlo, para notar si estaba consciente, llorando o gritando, para atender sus heridas, para cuidarlo con compasión y para llevarlo a un lugar seguro.

Solo el samaritano dio de su propia bolsa o bolsillo el dinero necesario para que el posadero cuidara al hombre herido hasta que pudiera regresar.

La enemistad entre enemigos y el orgullo y el desprecio de los israelitas por los samaritanos hacen de esta una historia improbable. Era inimaginable que un israelita aceptara el cuidado de un samaritano. Su división era demasiado profunda y amarga.

Pero la gracia de Dios es imparable.

No conoce nacionalidad ni credo. No se somete a las fronteras humanas.

Como escribe Pablo en Gálatas:

²⁶ …en Cristo Jesús todos son hijos de Dios por la fe. ²⁷ Todos los que han sido bautizados en Cristo, se han revestido de Cristo. ²⁸ Ya no hay judío ni griego; ya no hay esclavo ni libre; ya no hay varón ni mujer, porque todos son uno en Cristo Jesús.

La gracia de Dios va más allá de nuestro entendimiento.

Y, sin embargo, es evidente en el mundo en el que vivió Jesús y en nuestro mundo actual. En las maneras en que la compasión habla más fuerte que el odio o el prejuicio. Y en las maneras en que lo que nos une como un solo Cuerpo de Cristo es más grande que lo que nos separa.

Como en aquel camino a Jericó hace siglos, somos nosotros los que clamamos necesitados de la misericordia, el perdón, el cuidado y el amor de Dios.

Y nadie más que Dios nos dará el bálsamo sanador que nos restaura ala plenitud de vida que Dios nos promete como sus hijos amados. 

Amén.

Luke 10:25-37

Jesus often teaches by telling stories that we call parables, and in today’s gospel, Luke includes a parable that Jesus shares when a teacher of the law asks him, “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” (10:25) Jesus answers with his own question and then the teacher, an expert in the Torah, answers, and then asks a follow-up question.

This parable - often called the parable of the Good Samaritan - is only included in Luke’s gospel, a text known for the ways that it shows how following Jesus means crossing boundaries.

We know the disciples didn’t always understand the parables, and reading this parable, I wonder what Jesus is saying to us.

Pastor Brian Stoffregen notices that if Jesus were only trying to teach his disciples to be merciful to a person in need, there’d be no reason to label the characters as a priest, a Levite and a Samaritan.

He explains the animosity between Judea and Samaria, writing:

During an ancient Israeli war, most of the Jews living up north in Samaria were killed or taken into exile. However, a few Jews, who were so unimportant that nobody wanted them, were left in Samaria.

He describes how the intermarriage and mixing of religious beliefs and cultures created a schism between the northern and southern Jews, and how the Samaritans understood Torah differently and worshiped God at Mt. Gerizim, not Jerusalem.

Stoffregen argues that if Jesus were disparaging the powerful religious leaders, the third character would have been an ordinary lay person, a ‘regular’ Jew.

And, if the lesson was to love our enemies, then the man in the ditch would have been the Samaritan, cared for by a kind Israelite.

What do you think?

When you listen to this parable, do you see yourself in the story?

Reading this parable, I remember that what saves us and gives us eternal life is always God’s action for us. It is never our own effort, merits or good works.

As tempting as it is to see ourselves in the role of the one who is good, or obedient, and to assume we would be heroic and kind,

I think we might see ourselves more truly in the one who is left for dead on the road to Jericho.

The one who was beaten and robbed and abandoned.

The one whose limp form on the road prompted the Levite and then the priest to cross to the other side in order to avoid him.

Most of us have experienced times in our lives and our stories when we have been punched in the gut, run down by enemies, or tormented by grief or illness. Times when we have felt invisible or ignored by the people we could reasonably expect would care for us. And we can relate to this man’s isolation and despair.

Only the Samaritan came close enough to see him, to notice whether he was conscious, weeping or crying out,

to tend to his injuries,

to care for him with compassion

and to carry him to safety.

Only the Samaritan gave from his own purse or pocket the money for the innkeeper to watch over the injured man until he could return.

The animosity between enemies, and the pride and disdain of Israelites for Samaritans make it an unlikely story. It was unimaginable that an Israelite would accept the care of a Samaritan. Their division was too deep and bitter.

But God’s grace is unstoppable. It doesn’t know nationality or creed. It doesn’t adhere to human boundaries.

As Paul writes in Galatians,

²⁶ …in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith. ²⁷ As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. ²⁸ There is no longer Jew or Greek; there is no longer slave or free; there is no longer male and female, for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.

God’s grace is beyond our understanding.

And yet, it is evident in the world Jesus lived in, and in our world today. In the ways that compassion speaks louder than hatred or prejudice. And in the ways that what connects us in one Body of Christ is greater than what separates us.

As on that road to Jericho all those centuries ago, we are the ones crying out in need of God’s mercy and forgiveness, care and love. And no one but God will provide us with the healing balm that restores us to the fullness of life that God promises to us as God’s beloved children.

Amen.

Third Sunday after Pentecost

I first preached this sermon in Spanish; the English translation is below.

Lucas 9:51-62

Oremos… Que las palabras de mi boca y las meditaciónes de nuestros corazónes sean aceptables ante ti, oh Señor, nuestra fortaleza y nuestro redentor. Amén.

La semana pasada estuve de vacaciones, y Jamie y yo dedicamos dos días para andar en bicicleta en el Cape Cod Rail Trail. El sendero pavimentado tiene veintidós millas de largo y nos alojamos cerca de la milla nueve, así que un día fuimos hacia el sur y otro hacia el norte.

Un dicho que los ciclistas comparten con los excursionistas es: "No todos los que vagan están perdidos". A lo largo de nuestra ruta, hicimos un par de desvíos para ver un poco más de lo que había fuera de los caminos principales. Para cuando colgamos los cascos, habíamos recorrido más de setenta millas.

Por el camino, nos dimos cuenta de las diferentes maneras en que la gente usaba el sendero:

había ciclistas de carretera de competición entrenando para un evento más adelante este año; había personas paseando a sus perros y padres o abuelos empujando cochecitos. Algunos, como nosotros, iban en bicicletas eléctricas, mientras que otros andaban en bicicletas tradicionales y algunas pocas personas en bicicletas reclinadas. Muchos escuchábamos el viento, el canto de los pájaros y el tráfico lejano; algunos llevaban audiófonos y otros subían el volumen, impregnando el tramo del sendero con música.

El viaje de cada persona era diferente.

En nuestro evangelio de Lucas, escuchamos sobre el viaje de los discípulos con Jesús. Es el comienzo y un desafío.

Los samaritanos que encontraron en el camino los rechazaron. Otros dos hombres les hablaron, pero aún no estaban listos para unirse a Jesús y a los discípulos en su camino.

Jesús hace una declaración difícil: “Nadie que pone la mano en el arado y mira hacia atrás es apto para el reino de Dios.” (v. 62).

Es difícil porque a menudo nos enfrentamos a elegir entre lo que es bueno y lo que es mejor. No creo que Jesús dijera que los hombres que eligieron atender a sus familias y responsabilidades eran maloso incluso equivocados. Pero él no duda en llamar a las cosas por su nombre, y ellos no eligieron seguir a Jesús.

Al igual que ellos, tenemos albedrío, o libre albedrío, y si queremos vivir como discípulos, debemos seguir a Jesús con toda nuestra vida, y no solo de nombre.

A principios de este año, cuando ensene un estudio bíblico sobre los Salmos, uno de los salmos se junto con el poema de Robert Frost titulado "El camino no tomado", que termina con estas palabras:

Dos caminos se bifurcaban en un bosque, y yo...

Tomé el menos transitado,

Y eso marcó la diferencia.ⁱ

Una vida de discipulado es una elección costosa. Y es una que mira hacia adelante, dejando atrás lo que nos detiene, enfocándonos en la obra de la relación y la vida en común que nos espera.

Mientras Jamie y yo recorríamos el sendero, teníamos que enfocarnos en lo que nos esperaba. ¡Mirar hacia atrás en una bicicleta en movimiento es peligroso! Resulta que tampoco es la postura correcta en el ministerio. Cuando solo podemos ver dónde estamos o dónde hemos estado, no podemos tener “una visión de hacia dónde Dios podría llevarnos.”ⁱⁱ

En el ciclismo, mantener la cabeza en alto y la mirada al frente ayuda a mantener el equilibrio. En el ministerio, nos impide encerrarnos en nosotros mismos, esa misma postura profundamente encorvada de incurvatus in se que Martín Lutero define como la naturaleza del pecado.

Pero en nuestro recorrido, no solo teníamos que concentrarnos en nosotros mismos. Había cruces de caminos, puentes y túneles que cambiaban el terreno que recorríamos, y había otros usuarios del sendero. Sabíamos adónde íbamos, pero aún había muchas incógnitas que debíamos navegar.

En el Evangelio, Jesús nos dice que sigamos mirando hacia adelante. Habrá desafíos, habrá lugares difíciles y habrá dificultades, pero no viajamos solos ni estamos desprevenidos. Jesús está con nosotros y nos guía.

Oremos…

Dios Santo,

“Tú eres mi Señor; nada hay bueno fuera de ti”.

Aconséjame e instrúyeme.

Alegra mi corazón y mi alma, y permite que mi cuerpo descanse.

Muéstrame el camino de la vida y ayúdame a encontrar plenitud de gozo en tu presencia.

Amén.

ⁱ https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44272/the-road-not-taken

ⁱⁱ Brian Stoffregen. Exegetical Notes on Luke 9:51-62.

ⁱⁱⁱ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Incurvatus_in_sei 

Luke 9:51-62

This past week I was on vacation, and Jamie and I took two days to ride bicycles on the Cape Cod Rail Trail. The paved trail is twenty-two miles long and we stayed near mile marker nine, so one day we rode south and another day we rode north.

A saying cyclists share with hikers is, “All who wander are not lost.”  And along our route we took a couple of detours to see a little more of what was off the beaten path. By the time we hung up our helmets we had ridden more than seventy miles.

Along the way, we noticed the different ways people used the trail – there were competitive road cyclists training for an event later this year; there were people walking dogs and parents or grandparents pushing strollers. Some folks, like us, were on e-bikes while others were riding traditional bicycles and a few recumbent bikes. Many of us listened to the wind and birdsong and distant traffic, some wore headphones and others pumped up the volume, soaking their stretch of trail with music.

Every person’s journey was different.

In our gospel from Luke, we hear about the disciples’ journey with Jesus. It’s early days, and it’s challenging.

They get rejected by the Samaritans they meet along the way. Two other men talk to them, but those men aren’t yet ready to join Jesus and the disciples on their way.

Jesus makes a difficult statement, saying, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.” (v.62)

It’s difficult because we often face choices between what is good and what is best. I don’t think Jesus would say that the men who chose to tend to their families and responsibilities were evil or even wrong. But he does not hesitate “to call a thing what it is”, and they did not choose to follow Jesus.

Like them, we have agency, or free will, and if we are to live as disciples, then we must follow Jesus with our whole lives and not in name alone.

Earlier this year when I taught a Bible study on the Psalms, one of the psalms was paired with the poem by Robert Frost called “The Road Not Taken” which ends with these words:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.[i]

A life of discipleship is a costly choice. And it is one that looks ahead, letting go of what holds us back, focusing on the work of relationship and life together that lies ahead.

As Jamie and I made our journey along the trail, we had to focus on what was ahead. Looking backwards on a moving bike is dangerous! It turns out that it isn’t the right posture in ministry either. When we can only see where we are, or where we have been, we cannot see “a vision of where God may have us go.”[ii]

In cycling, keeping your head up and your eyes ahead helps you maintain balance. In ministry, it keeps us from curving in on ourselves - the same deeply curved in posture of incurvatus in se that Martin Luther defines as the nature of sin.[iii]

But on our ride, our focus wasn’t all we had to attend to. There were road crossings, bridges and tunnels that changed the terrain we traveled and there were other trail users. We knew where we were going but there were still many unknowns to navigate.

In the gospel, Jesus tells us to keep looking forward. There will be challenges, there will be rough places and there will be difficulties, but we do not journey alone, nor are we unequipped. Jesus is with us and leading us.

Let us pray…

Holy God,

“You are my Lord; I have no good apart from you.” (Ps. 61:2)

Counsel me and instruct me. (Ps. 61:7)

Make my heart glad and my soul rejoice and let my body rest. (Ps. 61:9)

Show me the path of life and help me find fullness of joy in Your presence. (Ps. 61:11)

Amen.

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[i] https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44272/the-road-not-taken

[ii] Brian Stoffregen. Exegetical Notes on Luke 9:51-62.

[iii] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Incurvatus_in_se

Holy Trinity

Proverbs 8:1-4, 22-31

Psalm 8

John 16:12-15          

On this Holy Trinity Sunday, if you want a concrete explanation of the Holy Trinity, you are going to be disappointed. Because as much as we like neat definitions and dis-ambiguity, the truth is that God is more: more than we can understand, more than we can know and more than we can imagine.

I think what we hear in all of our texts today though is that God desires to be known. And each reveals a different facet of who God is.  

It matters how we think about God’s “is-ness”.

We may begin with who God is not:

God is not a distant clockmaker who sets the world in motion and then watches from a distant perch to see what we will do;

And God is not a puppet master, orchestrating world events for caprice or entertainment;

Nor is God a malevolent judge setting on the mercy bench to mete out punishments.

In Proverbs, we meet God the Creator who acted long ago, as Wisdom testifies to her formation before the beginning of the earth. (v. 22-23)

And in Psalm 8, we hear the Lord called majestic and sovereign, the one whose glory is chanted (v. 2) and how the heavens with their stars and their moons are the very work of God’s fingers (v. 3).

“Creation is…incontrovertible evidence of divine majesty.”[i]

In Psalms for Praying, Nan Merrill paraphrases the psalm’s description of the heavens as “the work of Love’s creation …the infinite variety of your Plan”. 

The next verses in the psalm shift to how God’s plans include humankind as co-workers and stewards of the earth, guardians of the planet, charged with care for all of God’s creatures - the land, the sea and the air we breathe. In his paraphrase, Leslie Brandt writes that the Divine “[assigns to us] the fantastic responsibility of carrying on [God’s] creative activity”.[ii]

Our Creator God isn’t alien or abstract, but the Lord we know intimately, albeit imperfectly and incompletely, through the very world we live in.

In John’s Gospel, God’s majesty as evidenced in the broad swath of creation becomes much more particular, as now we hear Jesus talking with his disciples during the Farewell Discourse before his arrest and execution. In verse 14, Jesus says, “[The Spirit of truth] will glorify me, because he will take what is mine and declare it to you.”

Karoline Lewis, a Johannine scholar at Luther Seminary, writes, “In John[’s Gospel], to glorify is to make visible the presence of God, which is what the Holy Spirit does and what Jesus does.”[iii]

Episcopal priest Evan Garner goes even farther to say, “God cannot be understood but must be encountered through a relationship that grows from faith.” [iv]

As we consider how we understand the Holy Trinity

or who we know God to be,

our knowing is never mere intellectual assent to doctrine or beliefs, or even through our hearing the Word of God and the stories of Jesus, but through the transformation of our lives as “the Divine [is] living and acting and interacting with us on a daily basis.”[v]

Sometimes, like we sang about last Sunday, we hear God speaking to us in whispers, in “our neighbors’ urgent prayers” “or their “longing for rescue from despair.”[vi]

Other times, as at Pentecost, the movement of God and God’s Spirit is dramatic and noisy, a wind-born incarnation, and, like we heard in the acts of the apostles, it will not be contained or restrained.

Still other times, we experience God in the hand that reaches out for ours when we are hurting, in the encouragement that comes from our brothers and sisters in Christ, and in the very presence of Jesus in their faces and actions.

And of course, here in our sanctuary and worship we experience the presence of Christ at the Lord’s Table, in bread and wine, given for each one of us.

For all these glimpses of God alive and working in through and among us, we give thanks.

May we always pay attention to the places where we witness the power of God in ways, big and small.

I’ll end with a prayer from our Christian brothers and sisters at South Yarra Community Church in Melbourne Australia. [vii]

Let us pray…

O Trinity of Love,
your greatness is known in all the world
and your glory reaches beyond the stars.

In the first of your acts long ago, before the mountains were shaped
or springs brought forth water, you breathed your Spirit into being
to work beside you like a skilled artist, dancing joyously to the music of creation and delighting with you in the works of your hand.

In your child, Jesus Christ, you have revealed the glory and honor for which you created all humanity. When the world would not accept his truth and crucified him, you raised him to new life.

Through him, you sent your Holy Spirit to pour your love into our hearts; whispering your words into our ears.

Guide us now into all truth and fill us with the hope of sharing your glory. Amen.

---

[i] William Brown. Seeing the Psalms. 155.

[ii] Leslie Brandt. Psalms Now. 21

[iii] Karoline Lewis. “Holy Trinity - June 15, 2025.” Sermon Brainwave.

[iv] Evan D. Garner. “In the Lectionary: June 16, Trinity C (John 16:12-15)”. The Christian Century.

[v] Sundays and Seasons Resources, June 15, 2025.

[vi] Mary Louise Bringle. “God is Calling through the Whisper”. 2003.

[vii] https://laughingbird.net/

Day of Pentecost

I first preached this sermon in Spanish; the English translation is below.

Hechos 2:1-21

Oremos…Que las palabras de mi boca y las meditaciones de nuestros corazones sean gratas a tu vista, Señor, fortaleza nuestra y redentor. Amén.

Esta semana, en mis clases de español, hemos estado hablando sobre desastres naturales: terremotos y tsunamis, huracanes, inundaciones y sequías.

Aunque tuvimos el huracán el pasado septiembre y los incendios forestales a principios de esta primavera, nunca había experimentado un terremoto. Es decir, hasta una mañana de hace unas semanas, cuando estaba en la cocina y la casa empezó a temblar.

Al principio, pensé que la secadora se había desequilibrado. Pero luego me di cuenta de que el suelo bajo mis pies temblaba. Los gabinetes vibraron y, casi tan repentinamente como había comenzado, todo, se detuvo y volvió el silencio. Tuve mi primera experiencía con un terremoto.

Además, en las noticias, hemos escuchado informes de terrores provocados por un hombre: violencia armada en lugares tan cercanos como Asheville y Hickory; ataques antisemitas en Colorado y hace unas semanas en Washington, D.C.; un ataque contra trabajadores humanitarios en Sudán y la retención de ayuda a los palestinos en Gaza.

Hay mucha incertidumbre y miedo, y sé que me resulta difícil saber cómo responder a la violencia que presenciamos en el mundo.

Como escuchamos en la lectura de los Hechos de esta mañana, no estamos solos. Los discípulos también experimentaron una conmoción.

Si bien a menudo usamos una vela para simbolizar la presencia del Espíritu de Dios entre nosotros, el texto sugiere que no es tan benigno. El Espíritu llega a los discípulos como un viento violento y en fuego.

No pasara despercibido.

No será ignorado.

Y nada volverá a ser igual.

Esta no es la primera vez que se menciona al Espíritu de Dios en las Escrituras.

No es la primera vez que el Espíritu de Dios ha sido dado a su pueblo.

Sin embargo, en las historias anteriores a esta, el Espíritu solía ser más particular e individual, y ahora es colectivo y comunitario.

La semana pasada, un grupo de nosotros estuvimos en Greensboro para la asamblea del Sínodo de Carolina del Norte de la ELCA. Allí tuvimos servicios, aprendizaje, compañerismo y elecciones, incluyendo la elección de una nueva obispa sinodal, la reverenda Emily Hartner. Grace envió a seis personas a la asamblea sinodal y, en total, participaron más de 600 personas en persona. El tema de la asamblea, sabiendo todo lo que se decidiría, fue "Dios esta llamando". Cantamos y oramos antes de tomar las decisiones y escuchamos la guía de Dios durante toda la asamblea. Fue un tiempo lleno del Espíritu Santo, alegre, a veces bullicioso y siempre sagrado, compartido en comunidad con el pueblo de Dios.

El titular principal de la asamblea sinodal fue la primera elección de una mujer para el cargo de obispa en Carolina del Norte. La ELCA ha ordenado mujeres durante cincuenta y cinco años, y esta fue la primera vez que una mujer se encontraba entre las tres candidatas finales de nuestro sínodo. De hecho, ¡ese Espíritu Santo, no tan gentil, sopló con tanta fuerza que las tres finalistas fueron todas mujeres! Les contaré más sobre la obispa electa Emily más adelante.

Pero su elección no fue el único evento que el Espíritu inspiró en la asamblea sinodal:

Tuve el privilegio de comisionar a cuatro laicos que han estudiado y practicado el oficio de predicar y que ahora serán enviados a predicar en congregaciones.

También aprobamos una resolución pidiendo a nuestros líderes eclesiales y congregaciones que defiendan activamente la labor de los Servicios Luteranos de Carolinas y las operaciones de reasentamiento de refugiados.

Celebramos otra nueva congregación; hace dos años, fue la Comunidad Amada de Cristo, bilingüe en inglés y español, cerca de Winston-Salem, y esta vez fue Emmaus, una congregación afrodescendiente en Kannapolis.

Y durante todo el evento, dimos gracias a Dios por los continuos ministerios del pueblo de Dios en tantos lugares diferentes aquí en Carolina del Norte, en todo el país y el mundo.

Nuestro texto y nuestras experiencias nos muestran cómo el Espíritu Santo viene a nosotros para sacarnos de la complacencia, despertarnos a la transformación y revitalizarnos, restaurando nuestra confianza en la presencia de Dios entre nosotros y en sus promesas. No es un momento dócil, doméstico ni silencioso, sino bullicioso y festivo a medida que despertamos a lo que Dios hace posible en, a través de y entre nosotros.

¡Gracias sean dadas a Dios!

Acts 2:1-21

This week in my Spanish classes, we have been talking about natural disasters – earthquakes and tsunamis, hurricanes, floods and droughts.
 
While we had the hurricane last September, and wildfires earlier this spring, I had never experienced an earthquake. That is, until one morning just a few weeks ago, when I was in our kitchen and the house began to shake.
 
At first, I thought the clothes dryer had gone off-balance. But then I realized the ground beneath me was shaking. The cabinets rattled, and almost as suddenly as they had begun, they stopped, and it was quiet again. I had my first experience of an earthquake.
 
Additionally, in the news, we have heard reports of manmade terrors – gun violence as close as Asheville and near Hickory; antisemitic attacks in Colorado and a few weeks ago in Washington, DC; an assault on humanitarian workers in Sudan and aid being withheld from Palestinians in Gaza.
 
There is a lot of uncertainty and fear, and I know I have difficulty knowing how to respond to the violence we witness in the world.
 
As we hear in the Acts reading this morning, we are not alone. The disciples also experienced upheaval.
 
While we often use a candle to symbolize the presence of God’s Spirit among us, the text suggests it isn’t so benign. The Spirit comes to the disciples as a violent wind and in fire.
 
It will not be overlooked.
It will not be ignored.
And nothing will be the same.
 
This isn’t the first time that God’s Spirit has been mentioned in Scripture.
 
It isn’t the first time that God’s Spirit has been given to God’s people.
 
However, in the stories before this one, the Spirit was often more particular and individual, and now, it is collective and communal.
 
Last week, a group of us were in Greensboro for the assembly of the North Carolina Synod of the ELCA, with worship, learning, fellowship and elections, including the election of a new synod bishop, The Reverend Emily Hartner. Grace sent six people to synod assembly and altogether more than 600 people participated in person. The theme for the assembly, knowing all that would be decided, was “God is Calling.” We sang and prayed before decisions were made and we listened for God’s guidance throughout the assembly. It was Holy Spirit-filled, joyful, at times rowdy, and always sacred, time spent in community with God’s people.
 
The top headline coming out of the synod assembly was the first election of a woman to the office of bishop in North Carolina. The ELCA has ordained women for fifty-five years and this was the first time there was a woman in the final three candidates in our synod. In fact, that not-so-gentle Holy Spirit blew heartily enough that the final three were all women! I’ll tell you more about Bishop-elect Emily a little later.
 
But her election wasn’t the only event that the Spirit inspired at synod assembly:
 
I had the privilege of commissioning four lay people who have studied and practiced the craft of preaching and will now be sent out to preach in congregations.
 
We passed a resolution asking for our church leaders and congregations to actively defend the work of Lutheran Services Carolinas and refugee resettlement operations.
 
We celebrated another new congregation; two years ago, it was the bilingual English and Spanish Christ’s Beloved Community near Winston-Salem and this time it was Emmaus, an African-descent congregation in Kannapolis.
 
And throughout we gave thanks to God for the continuing ministries of God’s people in so many different places here in North Carolina and across the country and world.
 
Our text and experiences show us how the Holy Spirit comes to us to stir us out of complacency, to awaken us to transformation and to re-invigorate us, restoring our confidence in God’s presence with us and God’s promises for us. It is not tame, domestic or quiet but raucous and celebratory as we awaken to what God makes possible in, through and among us.
 
Thanks be to God!

Easter 6C

I first preached this sermon in Spanish; the English translation is below.

Oremos…Que las palabras de mi boca y las meditaciónes de nuestros corazónes sean gratas a tu vista, Señor, fortaleza nuestra y redentor. Amén.

A lo largo de los domingos de Pascua, hemos escuchado las historias de los Hechos de los Apóstoles que nos cuentan cómo Pedro, Pablo y los demás discípulos viajaron desde Jerusalén hacia otros lugares y hacia otras personas que nunca habían escuchado el Evangelio, nunca habían escuchado las Buenas Nuevas de Jesucristo. Fortalecidos por el Espíritu Santo, fueron testigos del abundante amor de Dios que transforma nuestras vidas.

En la lectura de hoy de los Hechos, Pablo tenía un plan. Y entonces el Espíritu le dijo: “No.” Y tras recibir una visión de Dios, cambió su plan para seguir el de Dios.

En lugar de dirigirse al este, a Asia, navegó hacia el oeste, a Macedonia, el norte de Grecia actual. Filipos no era un pueblo remoto.

Era una ciudad eminente, una colonia romana, un lugar donde la gente vivía bajo la lealtad al emperador romano y sus costumbres.

Cuando Pablo y sus compañeros llegaron allí, no se hicieron el centro de atención, colocando pancartas en la plaza pública ni repartiendo folletos. En este lugar extranjero, donde no esperaban estar y sin saber qué esperar, esperaron “varios días” hasta que llego el sábado, y entonces, expectantes, se dirigieron a un lugar donde creían tener la oportunidad de encontrar a la gente más piadosa y devota. Bajaron al río, donde la gente estaba reunida para orar.

Y allí conocieron a Lidia, una mujer, comerciante, una jefa de familia y una extranjera. [i] Lidia no era de allí; había llegado a Filipos desde el este, como Pablo y Silas, desde Tiatira en Asia. Pero había hecho de Filippo su hogar, y al abrir su corazón y su hogar, se abrió a la obra más profunda del Espíritu de Dios. .[ii]

Las orillas de los ríos pueden ser lugares fangosos y turbios donde los remolinos giran y las empinadas orillas caen traicioneramente, pero también pueden ser lugares donde nos encontramos bañados por refrescantes arroyos, calmados por el ritmo de la rápida corriente que rebota en el terreno irregular de roca y tierra. En los Hechos, “el anhelo y la gracia se encontraron allí en la orilla del río”. [iii] Este era el lugar al que acudían las personas, impulsadas por el Espíritu en busca de algo más, y allí se encontraban con Dios.

Cuando vivía en Shelby, dos pastores que conocí me contaron sus propias experiencias de haber sido llamados a lugares inesperados y apersonas desconocidas. Se llaman Carroll Page y Harry Gregory. Pensando en Paul y Lydia, les pedí permiso para compartir sus historias.

Durante años, Harry y Carroll han viajado a Camerún e India como misioneros, y al escuchar sus historias, les pregunté cómo comenzaron?. ¿Qué los llevó a esos lugares?

Ahora, sé dónde está India, pero confieso que no tenía ni idea de dónde estaba Camerún, excepto que era un país africano. Incluso cuando Harry dijo que estaba junto a Nigeria, esto no me dijo mucho a mi. Conozco Madagascar y Sudáfrica, Marruecos y Egipto, Libia y Sudán, pero no Camerún. Resulta, por cierto, que Camerún está en ese rincón occidental de África.

Me impresionó lo similares que eran sus historias y cómo la de Pablo se reflejaba en las suyas. Harry conoció a un hombre de Camerún que le habló de la gente de allí. Lo invitó a ir y a verlo por si mismo. Y ahora viaja allí seis semanas cada verano. No va a organizar avivamientos. Lleva Biblias traducidas y enseña a los líderes y pastores locales a liderar, capacitándolos para trabajar y compartir el Evangelio en sus propios pueblos y comunidades.

¿Y Carroll? Bueno, una primavera, Carroll conoció a unos misioneros cuando hablaban en Gardner-Webb sobre viajar a la India con un equipo médico misionero.

Y ese verano, se encontró en la India, la única persona no médica en un equipo de una docena de personas cuyo itinerario los llevó a recorrer siete aldeas del Himalaya. El primer día, seis personas quedaron afectadas por el mal de altura, pero al recuperarse, completaron la primera etapa del viaje y volvieron a la rutina. Un día caminaban alrededor de diez millas hasta una aldea y al día siguiente tenían su clínica médica. Se quedaban un día más y luego emprendían su siguiente caminata. Los habitantes de estas aldeas jamás había recibido atención médica básica, jamás había visto a un occidental, a una persona blanca. El único Evangelio escrito que llevaban los misioneros era un Evangelio de Juan traducido al dialecto local, pero el Evangelio que experimentaron fue el que trajeron los misioneros que dedicaron su tiempo, su compasión y a sí mismos al servicio.

¿Dónde se encuentran, en nuestras vidas y en las de quienes conocemos, los lugares donde el anhelo y la gracia se unen? No tenemos que viajar a Camerún ni a India para encontrar personas que esperan y anhelan escuchar las Buenas Nuevas de que Dios las ama.

Tenemos que salir de nuestros patrones y comportamientos establecidos, de nuestras rutinas habituales y, quizás, incluso de nuestras tradiciones. El Espíritu de Dios nos mueve y nos guía, llamándonos a escuchar y liberándonos para actuar en respuesta. Siguiendo a los apóstoles, recibimos una invitación a contarle al mundo cómo nuestras vidas cambian al ser hijos e hijas de un Dios vivo cuyo amor llega hasta los confines de la tierra y no excluye a nadie.

Oremos.
Dios Santo y Misericordioso, Tu Palabra y Tu Gracia llegan hasta los confines de la tierra. Condúcenos a los lugares donde las personas esperan escuchar que son tus hijos amados. Líbranos del pecado y abre nuestros corazones y vidas para que sean transformados por tu amor y por personas que aún no conocemos. Oramos en el nombre de tu Hijo Resucitado, nuestro Señor y Salvador viviente, Jesucristo. Amén.

---

[i] Matthew Skinner. Intrusive God, Disruptive Gospel.

[ii] Ronald Cole Turner, Feasting on the Word.

[iii] ibid

Throughout the Sundays of Easter we have heard the stories in the Acts of the Apostles that tell us how Peter, Paul and the other disciples traveled out of Jerusalem to other places and to other people who had never heard the Gospel, never heard the Good News of Jesus Christ. Empowered by the Holy Spirit, they were witnesses to the abundant love of God that transforms our lives.

In today’s reading from Acts, Paul had a plan. And then the Spirit told him “No.” And having received a vision from God, he changed his plan to follow God’s.

Instead of heading to east to Asia, he sailed west to Macedonia − northern Greece today. Philippi wasn’t some backwater town. It was an eminent city, a Roman colony, a place where people lived under allegiance to the Roman emperor and custom.

When Paul and his companions got there, they didn’t take center stage, setting up banners in the public square and handing out flyers. In this foreign place, where they hadn’t expected to be, and didn’t know what to expect, they waited for “some number of days” until the Sabbath arrived, and then, expectantly,

they went to a place where they thought they had a chance of finding the most pious, the most devout, people. They went down to the river where people were gathered to pray.

And there, they met Lydia, a woman, a merchant, a head of household and an outsider.[i] Lydia wasn’t a local; she’d come to Philippi from the east, like Paul and Silas, from Thyatira in Asia. But she had made her home there in Philippi and as she opened her heart and her home, she opened herself to the deeper workings of God’s Spirit.[ii]

Riverbanks can be muddy and mucky places where eddies swirl and steep banks drop off treacherously, but they can also be places where we find ourselves washed in refreshing streams, calmed by the rhythm of the swift current bouncing off the uneven ground of rock and earth. In Acts, “longing and grace met there on the bank of the river.”[iii] This was the place where people came, stirred by the Spirit for something more, and there they encountered God. 

When I lived in Shelby, two pastors I knew told me about their own experiences of being called into unexpected places and to unknown people. Thinking about Paul and Lydia, I asked them for their permission to share their stories.

Their names are Carroll Page and Harry Gregory;

For years, Harry and Carroll have traveled to Cameroon and India as missionaries, and as I listened to their stories, I asked how did you start? What took you to these places?

Now, I know where India is, but I confess, I didn’t have any idea where Cameroon was, except that it was an African country. Even when Harry said it was next to Nigeria, that didn’t mean anything to me. I know Madagascar and South Africa, Morocco, and Egypt, Libya and Sudan, but not Cameroon. It turns out, by the way, that Cameroon is in that western crook of Africa.

I was struck by how similar their stories were, and how Paul’s story echoed in theirs. Harry met a man from Cameroon who told him about the people there. He invited Harry to come and see. And now Harry now travels there for six weeks each summer. He doesn’t go and hold revivals. He takes translated Bibles and teaches the local leaders and pastors to lead, equipping them to work and share the Gospel in their own villages and communities.

And Carroll? Well, one spring Carroll met missionaries when they spoke at Gardner-Webb about traveling to India with a medical mission team. And that summer, he found himself in India, the only non-medical person on a team of about a dozen people whose itinerary had them trekking to seven villages in the Himalayas. On their first day, six people were laid out by altitude sickness, but when they recovered, they finished that first leg of their journey and they fell into their routine. They would trek about ten miles to a village one day, and the next day they would hold their medical clinic. They’d stay one more day and then they would leave on their next trek. The people in these villages had never had even basic medical attention, never seen a Westerner, a white person. The only written Gospel the missionaries carried was a Gospel of John translated into the local dialect, but the Gospel the people experienced was the one brought by the missionaries who gave their time, their compassion and themselves to serve.

Where are the places in our lives and those we know where longing and grace meet? We don’t have to travel to Cameroon or India to find people who are waiting and longing to hear the Good News that God loves them.

We do have to step outside of our established patterns and behaviors, our regular routines and, perhaps, even our traditions. The Spirit of God is moving and leading us, calling us to listen and freeing us to move in response. Following the apostles, we are given an invitation to tell the world how our lives are changed by being sons and daughters of a Living God whose love reaches to the ends of the earth and leaves out no one.

Let us pray.

Holy and Gracious God,

Your Word and Your Grace reach to the ends of the earth.

Lead us to the places where people are waiting to hear they are your beloved children.

Free us from sin and open our hearts and lives to be transformed by your love, and by people we do not yet know.

We pray in the name of your Risen Son, our Living Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Amen.

---

[i] Matthew Skinner. Intrusive God, Disruptive Gospel.

[ii] Ronald Cole Turner, Feasting on the Word.

[iii] ibid