Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 13:10-17

Whenever we get a story of a woman in Scripture, I get curious. There just aren’t that many. We know that women in the first century and certainly in the centuries before that were not powerful. Their stories don’t often get told. Even more rarely are their names shared. A woman’s value was defined by her childbearing ability or by the wealth of her husband, and while she may have been cherished as a treasured possession, she was not generally seen as a whole and beloved person in her own right.

It has taken millennia to improve the situation of women in society, and sadly, there are still places and circumstances where women find themselves dismissed, ignored or even erased.

So, whenever we get a story of a woman in Scripture, I get curious.

This week Luke tells us the story of a woman who appeared while Jesus was teaching. We never learn her name, but we know that she was crippled by a spirit and she had not been able to stand up straight for eighteen years.  And yet, she shows up at the synagogue.

And as little as we know about this woman, we know that when Jesus sees her, he immediately heals her. There are no questions or qualifying events; there are no bargains struck or hoops to jump through.

There is healing, and it is unconditional mercy, a free gift.

Luke tells us that the woman begins praising God and the crowd around Jesus rejoices at all he is doing.

But apparently, everyone isn’t joyful. Luke says the religious leader is indignant. Outraged. Annoyed. Vexed. As a colleague noted, there’s no way to make this word positive. The argument the synagogue leader makes is that Jesus has broken the sabbath, but his complaint isn’t really about the sabbath.

It’s about Jesus.

Jesus who is going to break tradition and cross boundaries in order to heal this woman. Jesus who is not going to defer justice. Jesus who is not going to wait until it is convenient to do what is right. And Jesus who is not going to worry about who he makes uncomfortable while he carries out God’s kingdom work.

When he encounters the woman, Jesus sees what no one else could; he sees how the glorious breaking in of God’s kingdom is going to bring grace, healing and freedom to someone who is hurting, 
and he resolves that he is not going to stand in its way.

It makes me wonder how do we respond when we see God’s kingdom breaking in? With praise and rejoicing? With indignation? Who are we in this Jesus story?

I want to believe that I would rejoice too. I want to believe that I would not have thought of this stranger as a disruption. I want to believe that I would have welcomed her unusual appearance and been sympathetic to her plight.

And yet, I know I might have been uncomfortable, and I might have had to swallow my impulse to insist on maintaining good order.

I might have had to remember to get out of God’s way. 

This week I have been reflecting on a prayer attributed to Julian of Norwich. 

If you aren’t familiar with her, Julian was an anchoress, or a religious recluse, who lived in the fourteenth century in England. Her writings are some of “the earliest surviving English-language works attributed to a woman.”[i] And while, ironically, Reformation leaders disparaged her and refused to publish her, today she is considered a significant Christian mystic and theologian.

Her prayer is one of the most well-known excerpts and it ends with these words:

Teach us to believe that by your grace all shall be well, and all shall be well, And all manner of things shall be well. Amen.

As a girl, Julian lived through the Black Plague, and in her thirties, she survived serious illness. Later, she lived through the Peasants’ Revolt.

Julian had plenty of reasons to fear the world and yet, she trusted that God’s grace would make all manner of things well.

I am struck by Julian’s prayer in part because it is not by her efforts or merits that all things shall be well. She credits God for that fully.  

And yet, she continues to write. She counsels visitors at Norwich. She responds to the world around with her in faith and with compassion.

Having found her place in God’s world, Julian trusted that God’s vision for the world would be more complete, more full and more whole than what she could imagine or see in the present time.

She didn’t disregard the suffering she witnessed, or diminish the loss and grief of others, but she was confident in her belief that God would reign and that the powers and principalities that were delivering death and pain would be conquered.

That God would see.

And all manner of things shall be well.

Amen.

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[i] Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Julian_of_Norwich, accessed 8/23/2025

Ninth Sunday after Pentecost

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

Hebreos 11:1-3, 8-16

Oremos…

Que las palabras de mi boca y la meditaciónes de nuestro corazónes sean gratas a tu vista, oh Señor, fortaleza y redentor nuestro. Amén.

En nuestra congregación luterana, y de hecho en muchas congregaciones protestantes tradicionales, las lecturas de cada domingo forman parte de un ciclo trienal de lecturas llamado Leccionario Común Revisado. El leccionario nos ayuda a reconocer la naturaleza católica de la Iglesia: que los cristianos estamos unidos en torno a un solo Dios y una sola Palabra. También me mantiene honesta como predicador, animándome a escuchar lo que Dios dice en un texto determinado, en lugar de buscar un texto que apoye mis propias ideas.

Pero el leccionario también tiene sus limitaciones. Las lecturas no siempre cuentan la historia completa. En otras ocasiones, omite libros o pasajes enteros y, a menudo, no aborda partes más complejas de la Escritura.

Hablo de esto cuando enseño sobre los Salmos, por ejemplo, porque los salmos que escuchamos en la adoración suelen ser de alabanza y acción de gracias, pero también hay salmos de lamento donde el escritor clama con sufrimiento y salmos imprecatorios que invocan la justicia divina de Dios.

No soy la primera persona en notar las fallas del leccionario. Hace aproximadamente una década, un grupo de académicos creó un leccionario alternativo diseñado para narrar las historias de las Escrituras de forma continua. Este leccionario narrativo tiene un ciclo similar de lecturas a lo largo de varios años, pero no está tan conectado con nuestro calendario litúrgico, que celebra las diferentes estaciones y festividades. Más recientemente, otros han creado un leccionario para mujeres, que destaca textos y personajes de las Escrituras que a menudo se omiten en las lecturas tradicionales.

Un par de mujeres, que también son pastoras, tienen un podcast llamado "Mind the Gap" o “”Ojo con el vacio”. El título es un juego de palabras con las palabras que se colocan en los letreros cerca del metro de Londres, advirtiendo a los viajeros a tener cuidado al subir y bajar de los trenes. En su podcast, los dos pastores exploran los textos del leccionario, prestando especial atención a los versículos omitidos. En un día como hoy, cuando la lectura de Hebreos salta del versículo 2 al 8, ellas habrían discutido lo que se omitió o se dejó fuera.

Resulta que los versículos que faltan son el comienzo de una lista de personajes del Antiguo Testamento que se describen como modelos de fe. Y, en realidad, está bien que se hayan excluido de nuestra lectura.

Pero lo que también se pierde es un versículo que Martín Lutero citaba a menudo al enseñar sobre la importancia de la fe. El versículo seis dice:

Y sin fe, es imposible agradar a Dios, porque es necesario que quien se acerca a él crea que existe y que recompensa a quienes lo buscan.

Lutero escribió en sus Lecciones sobre Gálatas que “Donde Cristo y la fe no están presentes, no hay perdón de pecados ni encubrimiento de pecados”. (LW 26:133)

Lutero argumenta que “Un cristiano no es alguien que no tiene pecado ni siente pecado; es alguien a quien, debido a su fe en Cristo, Dios no le imputa [ni le asigna] su pecado”.

La interpretación de Lutero sobre la justificación por la fe es que la fe es un don que Dios nos da y que es a través de la fe en Cristo que recibimos el perdón de Dios. No podemos añadir nada a lo que Dios ha hecho.

Nuestra lectura de Hebreos comienza con una definición de fe que se repite con frecuencia.

En nuestra traducción, el versículo dice:

“Es pues la fe la sustancia de las cosas que se esperan, la demostración de las cosas que no se ven.”

En la Biblia en Inglés Común, la traducción es:

“La fe es la realidad de lo que esperamos, la prueba de lo que no vemos”.

Pero, aunque estas palabras caben en un cojín decorativo, no son un simple adorno sentimental. Son una declaración contundente.

La fe es donde las promesas de Dios se hacen realidad. La seguridad y la esperanza ante lo invisible residen en lo que sabemos sobre quien es Dios.

El autor de Hebreos continúa narrando las historias de nuestros antepasados espirituales para enfatizar que Dios cumple sus promesas. “La fe... existe en la palabra de la promesa que depende... de que Dios cumpla la promesa”. (Steven D. Paulson. Teología Luterana, 57)

Una y otra vez, el autor comienza con las palabras “por la fe”.

“Por la fe, Abel ofreció...”

“Por la fe, Noé respetó la advertencia de Dios”

“Por la fe, Abraham obedeció...”

Y al escuchar sus historias, se nos invita a reflexionar sobre las personas que conocemos y ver cómo ellas también han actuado “por la fe”. Y aún más, a reflexionar sobre nuestras vidas y cómo hemos actuado por fe.

Al responder a la vocación que Dios nos da a cada uno.

Al decidir dónde vivir y criar a nuestras familias.

Al elegir cómo cuidar a nuestro prójimo.

Al escuchar hacia donde nos esta llamando Dios ahora.

Recordando siempre que la fe que nos sostiene no es creación nuestra, sino un don santo y completo del Dios que nos ama y nos perdona por completo.

Gracias a Dios.

Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16

In our Lutheran congregation, and in fact in many “mainline” Protestant congregations, our readings for each Sunday are part of a three-year cycle of readings called the Revised Common Lectionary. The lectionary helps us recognize the catholic nature of the Church – that we Christians are united around one God and one Word. It also keeps me honest as a preacher, encouraging me to listen for what God is saying in a given text, instead of finding a text to support my own ideas.

But the lectionary has its shortcomings, too. The readings don’t always tell the whole story. Other times, it leaves out whole books or passages and often, it doesn’t tackle more complex parts of Scripture. I talk about this when I teach about the Psalms, for example, because the psalms we hear in worship are often praise and thanksgiving but there are also psalms of lament where the writer cries out in suffering and imprecatory psalms that call for God’s divine justice.

I’m not the first person to notice the lectionary’s faults. About a decade ago, a group of scholars created an alternative lectionary that is designed to tell the stories of Scripture continuously. That narrative lectionary has a similar cycle of readings over several years, but it isn’t as connected to our liturgical calendar that celebrates the different seasons and feast days. More recently, others have created a women’s lectionary, drawing attention to Scripture texts and characters that are often left out of traditional readings.

A pair of women who are also pastors have a podcast called “Mind the Gap”. The title is a play on the words posted on signs near London’s underground or subway trains, urging travelers to be careful stepping on and off the trains. On their podcast the two pastors explore the lectionary texts, looking particularly at the verses that are omitted. On a day like today when the reading from Hebrews jumps from verse 2 to verse 8, they would have discussed what was skipped or left out.

It turns out the missing verses are the beginning of a list of Old Testament characters who are being described as models of faith. And, truly, it is ok that they are cut out of our reading.

But what is also lost is a verse that Martin Luther often quoted as he taught about the importance of faith. Verse 6 says,

And without faith, it is impossible to please God, for whoever would approach him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him.

Luther wrote in his Lectures on Galatians that “where Christ and faith are not present, here there is no forgiveness of sins or hiding of sins.” (LW 26:133)

Luther argues that “A Christian is not someone who has no sin or feels no sin; he is someone to who because of his faith in Christ, God does not impute [or assign] his sin.”

Luther’s understanding of justification by faith is that faith is a gift given to us by God and it is through faith in Christ that we receive the forgiveness of God. We cannot add anything to what God has done.

Our reading from Hebrews begins with a definition of faith that is often repeated.

In our translation the verse says,

“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen."

In the Common English Bible, the translation is,

“Faith is the reality of what we hope for, the proof of what we don't see.”

But while the words fit on a throw pillow, they aren’t merely sentimental decoration. They are a bold statement.

Faith is where God’s promises become real.  The assurance and the hope for what we cannot see rests on what we know about who God is.

The author of Hebrews goes on to tell the stories of our spiritual ancestors to emphasize that God fulfills God’s promises.  “Faith …exists in the word of promise that depends…on God keeping the promise.” (Steven D. Paulson. Lutheran Theology, 57)

Again and again, the author begins with the words “by faith.”

“By faith Abel offered…”

“By faith Noah respected God’s warning”

“By faith Abraham obeyed…”

And listening to their stories, we are invited to reflect on the people we know and see how they too have acted “by faith.” And even more, to reflect on our lives and how we have acted by faith.

In responding to the vocation God gives each of us.

In deciding where to live and raise families.

In choosing how to care for our neighbors.

In listening for where God is calling us next.

Always remembering that the faith that sustains us is not of our own creation, but wholly and holy gift to us from the God who loves us and forgives us completely. 

Thanks be to God.

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.

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.

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[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/

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.

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[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

Easter 5C

John 13:31-35

Acts 11:1-18

Exodus 3:1-5

Our gospel text today is one part of the text we hear on Maundy Thursday, during Holy Week, when we receive the “new commandment” that Jesus gave his disciples after he washed their feet and fed them. Later that same night, Judas Iscariot betrays him and most of the other disciples abandon him, but here, Jesus is focused on what unites them - love.

Likewise, in the reading from Acts, Peter is focused on love when he finds himself in a similar predicament as Jesus when the Lord was questioned by religious leaders for eating with sinners (Matthew 9:11, Mark 2:16, Luke 5:30) Now circumcised believers are questioning Peter about his dinner companions, and he responds with a story. He tells them about his experience in Joppa where he saw a vision of a feast with all kinds of wild animals, beasts of prey, reptiles and birds. As the vision appeared, Peter heard the Lord speak, commanding him to eat, and when he objected because some of the animals were considered unclean., he heard the Lord tell him, “What God has made clean, you must not call profane.”

Earlier this week, I participated in a lectio group. For the last five years, a group of us have met on Zoom every month, or more often, to listen to a sacred text and pray together. This week the leader chose the text from Exodus when Moses witnesses the burning bush. At first it seems like the fire distracts Moses but then it is while Moses is looking at the fire that he hears God speak, and God says that Moses is standing on holy ground.

Each scene represents a different experience with the holy:

Jesus and his disciples eating together;

Peter proclaiming God’s salvation for a household of Gentiles;

And Moses encountering God.

Each scene represents a different configuration of people:

Jesus and his followers;

A missionary or apostle and the people to whom he was sent;

A shepherd who had fled for his safety.

But in each instance, something, or someone, gets in the way of what God wants to accomplish:

Judas was obviously greedy, but even the other disciples succumbed to their fear of persecution by the Romans and the Jewish authorities;

Peter narrowly followed the rules that dictated what was allowed and what was not, and rigidly adhered to his understanding of faithful obedience;

And Moses was reluctant to lead and uncomfortable speaking on God’s behalf.

Reflecting on this week’s texts, Methodist pastor Robb McCoy said, “Whatever gets in the way of love, whatever makes us miss the mark of love, love is the target, and when we miss that mark, that is sin.” (“Pulpit Fiction Podcast”, Easter 5C, recorded May 19, 2019)

Whether it is our self-interest, our fear, our misunderstanding, or our reticence – whenever we let our “stuff” get in the way of what God is doing, we have a problem.

As Jesus tells the disciples, “…everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” (Jn. 13:35)

It's as simple, and as challenging, as that.

As the psalmist says, the Lord created us all alongside every living thing on earth and in heaven, and we are commanded to love them all.

Even the stinging ones, the foul-smelling ones, and the ones, like mosquitoes, that are hard to see as valuable.

Even the curmudgeons and the sour-faced ones who don’t reciprocate our love.

And perhaps especially the ones who we want to exclude, demonize or hate, trusting that God’s love is as much for them as it is for me.

This is the realization Peter has, isn’t it? That “God has given the same gift to all of creation that God gave us when we believed?” (v. 17)

Debates about who ‘deserves’ God’s love are distractions.

After all, in Lutheranism, we declare that we all are sinners and saints. We have all sinned and fallen short of God’s Law, and it is only by God’s grace that we are forgiven and restored to life. God takes that action for us. It is never the result of our own merit or effort.

Today as we celebrate the baptism of one of our newest siblings in Christ, we remember that God gives us that grace freely and abundantly, and we find our identity in God and show who we are – Jesus’ followers – by loving others.

Let us pray...

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for your Son Jesus and for your abundant love and mercy for all of us who follow Him.

Help us love others as you love us,

and recognize our sinfulness and ask for forgiveness

when we refuse.

We pray in Jesus’ name.

Amen.

Lent 4C

Lucas 15:1-3, 11b-32

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

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

Hace unos años, un amigo le presentó a su hija menor la película de 1987 “La princesa prometida”. No recuerdo cuándo vi la película por primera vez, pero una de las frases memorables la dice el personaje de Inigo Montoya después de que Vizzini exclamó “¡Inconcebible!” demasiadas veces. Montoya le dice al otro hombre: “Sigues diciendo esa palabra. Creo que no significa lo que tu piensas que significa”.

Siempre recuerdo esa cita cuando leo el Evangelio de hoy, porque muchas traducciones de la Biblia llaman a este pasaje “El hijo pródigo”. Pero confieso que “pródigo” no significa lo que yo creía. No recuerdo la primera vez que escuché esta historia, pero sé que siempre escuché el énfasis puesto en el regreso del hijo descarriado y la forma en que el “regresa a si mismo.”.

o recupera la cordura y luego practica su disculpa mientras regresa a la casa de su padre. El problema cuando leemos esta historia de esa manera, como escribió Tom Long, profesor de la Escuela de Teología Candler: «El hijo pródigo se convierte en el "jugador de regreso del año". ⁱ

Pero no se le llama hijo pródigo porque regresa.

“Pródigo” significa “desperdiciador, extravagante, imprudente o excesivo”. Los editores que decidieron el título de las diferentes historias bíblicas lo llaman hijo pródigo porque desperdicia su herencia.

Creo que el verdadero pródigo en esta historia es el padre. Después de todo, él es quien, desafiando todas las normas culturales, le da al hijo menor su parte de la herencia cuando este se la pide. Él es quien no duda en darle la bienvenida a su hijo cuando regresa.

De hecho, el padre no solo se reconcilia con él, sino que es él quien les dice a los sirvientes que maten al becerro gordo, animando a toda la casa a celebrar su regreso. Amade manera excesiva. El padre otorga la misma gracia que recibimos de Dios, totalmente inmerecida o no ganada, dada con alegría y sin reservas.

Y no solo al hijo menor. Cuando el hermano mayor confronta a su padre, este le dice: “Hijo, siempre estás conmigo, y todo lo mío es tuyo” (v. 31). Siendo un seguidor de las reglas que demostró lealtad y responsabilidad, el hijo mayor no ha experimentado ninguna alegría al mantener una relación con su padre. Solo ha acumulado resentimiento que estalla al presenciar el amor del padre por el hijo menor. Escuchamos cómo su resentimiento ha distorsionado su visión del mundo cuando se queja con el padre de “este hijo tuyo”. Aunque ambos son hermanos, el resentimiento ha erosionado su vínculo común.

El maestro franciscano Padre Richard Rohr escribe en Respirando Bajo el Agua:

“La muerte de cualquier relación con alguien es tener un sentido de derecho. Cualquier ideade “me lo merezco”, “me lo deben”, “tengo derecho a” o “soy superior a ti” minimiza por completo cualquier noción de fe, esperanza o amor…”.

Es lo que Rohr llama una actitud “destructiva del alma”.ⁱⁱ

El padre le ruega a su hijo mayor que se una a la fiesta que se está celebrando para “este hermano tuyo”, pero Lucas nunca nos dice cómo termina la historia. ¿Se restablece la familia? ¿O continúa el hijo mayor con un comportamiento destructor del alma? ¿Y cómo responde el hijo menor a la gracia que ha recibido?

Esas preguntas quedan a la sagrada imaginación. 

Nuestra manera de escuchar  la historia bíblica siempre se ve afectada por nuestras propias experiencias de vida, por lo que el final que imaginamos  podría estar influenciado por si éramos hermanos menores o mayores, nuestras relaciones con padres y figuras paternas, y nuestras propias experiencias de perdón. 

La buena noticia de este evangelio es que, in importar de dónde nos ubiquemos en la historia, cada uno de nosotros es amado de forma extravagante sin condición por Dios, incluso cuando sentimos que tenemos derecho a nuestro lugar en la familia de Dios; incluso cuando desperdiciamos la generosidad de Dios; incluso cuando abandonamos a Dios en los buenos momentos, solo para regresar cuando estamos desesperados y necesitamos ayuda.

Cada uno de nosotros es amado de forma extravagante y sin condición por Dios, incluso cuando hacemos y decimos todo lo correcto, pero mantenemos nuestros corazones cerrados a la alegría y a los demás frutos del Espíritu de Dios en nuestras vidas; incluso cuando permitimos que el resentimiento y el mal endurezcan nuestros corazones hacia nuestros hermanos y hermanas en Cristo; incluso cuando nos frustramos o nos sentimos insultados por la insensatez de la gracia prodiga de Dios.

Todos somos amados, y Dios esta esperando para darnos la bienvenida en casa como hijos de Dios. En unos minutos com-partiremos la paz de Cristo donde, como el padre abrazando a su hijo, nos reconciliamos con Dios y entre nosotros, y luego, en esta Mesa, en la Santa Comunión, celebraremos un anticipo de la fiesta venidera, disfrutando de la promesa del perdón de Dios por nuestros pecados y de las maneras en que su misericordia se renueva cada día.

Oremos… Dios misericordioso, te damos gracias por el amor redentor que nos das a través de tu hijo Jesús; perdonados y alimentados, envíanos al mundo a compartir tu gracia reconciliadora, para que todos conozcan tu amor. Amén.

[1] Tom Long. “Surprise Party” in Living by the Word, The Christian Century, 2001.

[1] Richard Rohr. Breathing Under Water. 61-62.

Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

A few years ago, a friend introduced his youngest daughter to the 1987 movie “The Princess Bride.” I don’t remember when I first saw the film, but one of the memorable lines is delivered by the character Inigo Montoya after Vizzini exclaims, “Inconceivable” one too many times. Montoya tells the other man, “You keep saying that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”

I always remember that quote when I read today’s gospel, because many Bible translations name this passage “The Prodigal Son.” But I confess, “prodigal” doesn’t mean what I thought it meant. I don’t remember the first time I heard this story, but I know I always heard the emphasis placed on the return of the wayward son and the way that he “comes to himself” or returns to his senses and then practices his apology as he makes his way back to his father’s house. The problem when we read this story that way, as Candler Divinity School professor Tom Long wrote, “The prodigal son becomes the “comeback player of the year.”[i]

But he isn’t called the prodigal son because he comes back.

“Prodigal” means “wasteful, extravagant, reckless, or excessive.” The editors who decided what to title the different bible stories call him the prodigal son because he wastes his inheritance.

I believe the true prodigal in this story is the father. After all he is the one who, in defiance of all cultural norms, gives the younger son his share of the inheritance when he asks for it. He is the one who doesn’t hesitate to welcome the son back when he returns. In fact, not only does the father reconcile with him but he is the one who tells the servants to kill the fatted calf, encouraging the whole household to celebrate his return. He loves excessively. The father delivers the same grace we receive from God, wholly unmerited or unearned, given joyfully and without reservation.

And not only to the younger son. When the older brother confronts his father, the father says, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours.” (v. 31) A rule follower who demonstrated loyalty and responsibility, the older son hasn’t experienced any joy from remaining in a relationship with his father. He has accumulated only resentment that boils over when he witnesses the father’s love for the younger son. We hear how his resentment has warped his view of the world when he complains to the father about “this son of yours.” Although the two are brothers their common bond has been eaten away by resentment.

Franciscan teacher Father Richard Rohr writes in Breathing Under Water,

“The death of any relationship with anyone is to have a sense of entitlement. Any notion that “I deserve,” “I am owed,” “I have a right to,” or “I am higher than you” absolutely undermines any notion of faith, hope or love…”

It is what Rohr calls a “soul-destructive” attitude.[ii]

The father pleads with the older son to join the party being thrown for “this brother of yours” but Luke never tells us how the story ends. Is the family restored? Or does the older son continue to engage in soul-destructive behavior? And how does the younger son respond to the grace he has received?

Those questions are left to holy imagination. Our hearing of the biblical story always is affected by our own life experiences, so the ending we might picture could be influenced by whether we were younger siblings or older, our relationships with fathers and father-figures, and our own experiences of forgiveness.

The good news of this gospel is that, regardless of where we locate ourselves in the story,

each one of us is loved extravagantly and recklessly by God —

even when we feel entitled to our place in God’s family;

even when we squander God’s generosity;

even when we abandon God in good times, only to return when we are desperate and need help.

Each one of us is loved extravagantly and recklessly by God — even when we do and say all the right things but keep our hearts closed to joy and the other fruits of God’s Spirit in our lives;

even when we let resentment and evil harden our hearts to our brothers and sisters in Christ;

even when we get frustrated or insulted at the foolishness of our prodigal God’s grace.

We are all loved, and God is waiting to welcome us home as God’s children. In a few minutes we’ll share the peace of Christ where, like the father embracing his son, we are reconciled to God and with one another, and then, at this Table, in Holy Communion, we will celebrate a foretaste of the feast to come, enjoying the promise of God’s forgiveness for our sin and the ways God’s mercy is new every day.

Let us pray…

Merciful God,

We give you thanks for the redemptive love that you give us through your son Jesus;

Forgiven and fed send us out in the world to share your reconciling grace, that everyone would know your love.

Amen.

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[i] Tom Long. “Surprise Party” in Living by the Word, The Christian Century, 2001.

[ii] Richard Rohr. Breathing Under Water. 61-62.