Sunday, November 17, 2024

Lectionary 33B

Mark 13:1-8

Today, we are nearing the end of our lectionary year centered in Mark’s gospel, and it’s the last Sunday we’ll hear from Mark, before we celebrate the Reign of Christ next Sunday and begin Advent after Thanksgiving.

When Mark wrote his gospel, his audience would have been accustomed to hearing stories told about Jesus and his ministry. But Mark’s Gospel is the first written account we have. We believe it was written in response to changes he witnessed.

We don’t know for certain what changed – it appears from things Mark says in this chapter that there were false teachers claiming to come in Jesus’ name but leading believers down wrong paths, and there were believers being persecuted and arrested, silencing their witness and testimony. Whatever was happening, now it was important to have a reliable written record of the “good news of Jesus Christ” (1:1).

Today we get to eavesdrop on Jesus. He has moved away from the crowd and is in what Mark describes as a private conversation. You know what this looks like. Four of his disciples pulled him aside to ask him what he meant when he told the others that the great buildings surrounding them would be destroyed.

But, when Peter, James, John and Andrew ask Jesus to tell them, “…when will this be, and what will be the sign that all these things are about to be accomplished?” (v. 4) Jesus tells them, there isn’t a clear sign. There will be betrayal. There will be alarming rumors. There will be disasters.

But the obvious, unambiguous sign they are looking for doesn’t exist.

The only assurance Jesus gives them is that the turmoil will not last forever.

We don’t know what turmoil Jesus is referring to. He may have been recalling earthquakes and famines in the same timeframe as we think of the Dust Bowl or the Great Depression. Or wars from decades earlier – in our context, it would be like talking about the Korean conflict today - or any number of more immediate, local disputes put down by Roman authorities. In any case, he was referring to historical events that shape our narrative. It’s all the stories that we carry around with us that have shaped how we look at the world.

And then Jesus says,

“This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.” (v. 8)

And there is The Good News. Birth pangs hurt, but they are necessary for new life to enter the world. And “God is always about the business of making new futures possible.”[i]

Last Saturday, our younger child, Emerson, took the GRE. Emerson is applying to graduate school and the test is one of the requirements. The scores for two of the three parts were available immediately, but we’re all waiting for the third part to be graded.

Waiting is hard.

You can guess what choices you may have, but everything is one giant question mark. There are so many unknowns. And it can be excruciating if you fall into the trap of wondering, “What if…”

Like Peter, James, John and Andrew, we want to know what the future holds. We want certainty, assurance and clear direction. It makes us anxious to realize how little we know and how little we control.

What Jesus reminds the disciples, and us, is that faith calls us to trust God. We can have confidence that the future will be what God ordains for us. As Jesus teaches in his Sermon on the Mount, none of us can add even a single hour to our lives by worrying. (Mt. 6:27)

What we can be certain of is God’s love for each one of us.

We may not have signs of what will come next, but the signs of God’s love for us are all around us. They are in the prayers that are said when we are sick, grieving or scared. They are in the time given to mentor a student or spend time with one as a study buddy. They are in the gifts of skills and knowledge shared in ministries every day in our congregation – people who know how to read financial statements and help us be good stewards of financial gifts; people whose gifts of hospitality welcome others and foster a place of belonging; people who enliven our music and worship; and people who help us stay connected with our community partners and know how we can best help our neighbors.

All of these signs point to a God-given future, one we can anticipate with unwavering faith and hope.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

Help us always to follow Jesus

and not be led astray by imposters or false promises.

Draw us near to You and

open our eyes to the signs of Your love that surround us.

Show us how to share the Good News of Your Love through our words and actions.

We pray in the name of Your Son Jesus, our Savior and Lord.

Amen.


[i] Amanda Brobst-Renaud. “Commentary on Mark 13:1-8”. Working Preacher. Luther Seminary.

Sunday, November 10, 2024

Lectionary 32B

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

Marcos 12:38-44

Oremos…Que las palabras de mi boca y la meditación de nuestro corazón sean gratas delante de ti, Señor, fortaleza nuestra y redentor nuestro. Amén.

“No tengas temor”. (1 Reyes 17:13)

Estas palabras se repiten a lo largo de las Escrituras. Las escuchamos por primera vez cuando el Señor le habla a Abram (Génesis 15:1) y son repetidas, una y otra vez, por Dios y los enviados de Dios. La última vez es cuando Juan de Patmos relata haberlas oído dichas por “uno como el Hijo del Hombre” en Apocalipsis. (Apocalipsis 1:17)

Y una y otra vez, son seguidas por la promesa de que Dios actuará, que el reino de Dios vendrá, que Dios no ha olvidado las promesas de Dios a su pueblo.

Hoy escuchamos al profeta Elías decir estas palabras.

Elías había estado viviendo de la comida que le traían los cuervos y del agua de un wadi, o arroyo, pero el agua se había secado. Una sequía hizo que el agua y la comida escasearan.

Pero Dios envía al profeta a una viuda en Sarepta, un pueblo fuera de Israel, prometiéndole que lo alimentará. Cuando Elías se encuentra con la mujer, ella le dice que ella y su hijo solo tienen un poco de harina y aceite, y se están preparando para comer lo que tienen y luego esperar a morir.

En el mundo antiguo, la gente creía que el rey podía controlar la lluvia, por lo que una sequía era una señal del fracaso del rey. El rey también era responsable del bienestar de las viudas y los huérfanos, por lo que cuando la viuda le dice a Elías que ella y su hijo se están muriendo de hambre, es otra señal del fracaso del rey.

Pero Elías sabe que su confianza no está en los líderes del mundo, sino en Dios, y Dios lo ha enviado a la viuda. Confía en la provisión de Dios para él. Su confianza surge de su obediencia a seguir la dirección de Dios. Su obediencia surge de su confianza en la fidelidad de Dios a lo largo de las generaciones hacia el pueblo de Dios. Surge de saber que pertenece a Dios.

Entonces le dice: “No tengas temor”.

Y la jarra de comida no se agota, ni falta el aceite , y la viuda, su hijo y Elías comen muchos días más.

En el evangelio nos encontramos con otra viuda. No está en casa, sino en público, donando al tesoro. El tesoro era un lugar en un patio fuera del templo donde la gente podía hacer ofrendas voluntarias para apoyar el templo, como el plato de ofrendas que tenemos sobre la mesa aquí.

Jesús está en los atrios del templo, enseñando a una gran multitud y observando a la gente depositar sus ofrendas en el tesoro.

Y mientras observa, advierte a su audiencia contra los líderes religiosos que son como actores que desempeñan un papel. Saben qué decir y cómo vestirse, pero sus palabras y acciones son vacías. Dan desde un lugar de comodidad y tranquilidad, sin sacrificar nada ni arriesgar nada.

Cuando Jesús ve a una viuda depositar dos pequeñas monedas de cobre, les dice a sus discípulos que “[ella] ha depositado más que todos [los demás]”.

Jesús dice que el regalo de la viuda era un regalo sacrificial, no, como los regalos que muchos de nosotros hacemos, dando de lo que sabemos que podemos prescindir, sino dando de lo que Dios nos ha dado primero, confiando en la providencia de Dios para ella.

Estos personajes no nos dan un modelo fácil de seguir.

Elías y las dos viudas confían en la providencia de Dios. Su confianza surge de su obediencia a seguir la dirección de Dios. Su obediencia surge de la confianza en la fidelidad de Dios a través de las generaciones hacia el pueblo de Dios. Proviene de saber que pertenecemos a Dios.

Por supuesto, el mundo moderno tiene un mensaje diferente. Nos dice que somos responsables de asegurar nuestro futuro a través de nuestros propios esfuerzos. Almacenar, ahorrar y protegernos de nuestros enemigos. Mirar hacia dentro y poner nuestra confianza en los líderes que vemos en la plaza pública. El mundo nos pide que le demos a los humanos autoridad sobre nuestras vidas y nos enseña a ver el mundo a través del lente de la escasez y el miedo.

Pero Dios nos enseña que en Cristo no recibimos “un espíritu de esclavitud para volver al temor, sino… un espíritu de adopción”. El Espíritu da testimonio de que somos hijos de Dios. (Romanos 8:15-16)

Somos a quienes Jesús se dirige cuando dice: “32 No tengan miedo, manada pequeña, porque a su Padre le ha placido darles el reino”.

La Palabra de Dios nos invita a tener una visión diferente del mundo, donde nos sometamos a Dios y veamos el mundo como Dios lo ve, a través del lente de la abundancia y la obediencia.

La escasez no es una realidad del Reino; es una construcción humana que Elías rechaza y que la viuda en el tesoro del templo niega. En cambio, Dios nos promete la plenitud de la vida (Juan 10:10). Sus historias nos recuerdan que el “poder vivificante de Dios puede transformar situaciones de derrota, desesperación y muerte”.i

“El Reino -o Reinado- de Dios es una realidad que está más allá de nuestra percepción…”ii Y en lugar de tratar de controlarlo, diseñarlo o dominarlo, Dios nos llama a caminar en sumisión, humildad y obediencia, mientras esperamos su realización, en el tiempo de Dios, no en el nuestro.

Oremos…

Dios bueno y misericordioso,

Te damos gracias por nuestro pan de cada día,

por lo que necesitamos para vivir en la plenitud de la vida.

Ayúdanos a rechazar las cosas que no dan vida,

las cosas que nos separan de ti.

Enséñanos a confiar en tu provisión y en la vida que nos das.

Que tu Espíritu Santo nos guíe a dar generosamente de todo lo que tenemos.

Envíanos a compartir tu amor con todas las personas que conozcamos.

Oramos en el nombre de Jesús.

Amén.



[i] Walter Brueggemann. Smith & Helwys Bible Commentary on First and Second Kings. 217.

[ii] Mike Breen. Covenant and Kingdom: The DNA of the Bible. 3DM. Kindle Edition.



 

Mark 12:38-44

Let us pray…

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

“Do not be afraid.”

These words are repeated throughout Scripture. We first hear them when the Lord speaks to Abram (Genesis 15:1) and they are repeated, again and again, by God and those sent by God. The last occurrence is when John of Patmos recounts hearing them spoken by “one like the Son of Man” in Revelation. (Revelation 1:17)

And time after time, they are followed by the promise that God will act, that God’s kingdom will come, that God has not forgotten God’s promises to God’s people.

Today we hear the prophet Elijah speak these words.

Elijah had been living on the food that ravens brought him and the water of a wadi, or stream, but the water had dried up. A drought made water and food scarce.

But God sends the prophet to a widow in Zarephath, a town outside Israel, promising that she will feed him. When Elijah meets the woman, she tells him that she and her son only have a little meal and oil, and they are preparing to eat what they have and then wait to die.

In the ancient world, people believed that the king could control the rain, so a drought was a sign of the king’s failure. The king also had responsibility for the welfare of widows and orphans, so when the widow tells Elijah that she and her son are starving, it is another sign of the king’s failure.

But Elijah knows that his trust is not in the leaders of the world, but in God, and God has sent him to the widow. He trusts in God’s provision for him. His trust comes out of his obedience to follow God’s direction. His obedience comes from his confidence in God’s faithfulness throughout generations to God’s people. It comes from knowing that he belongs to God.

So, he tells her, “Do not be afraid.”

And the jar of meal does not get emptied, and the oil does not fail, and the widow, her son and Elijah eat for many more days.

In the gospel we meet another widow. She isn’t at home, but in public, donating to the treasury. The treasury was a place in a courtyard outside the temple where people could make freewill offerings to support the temple, like the offering plate we have on the table here.

Jesus is in the temple courts, teaching a large crowd, and watching people put their offerings in the treasury.

And as he watches, he warns his audience against the religious leaders who are like performers playing a role. They know what to say and how to dress, but their words and actions are empty. They give from a place of comfort and ease, not sacrificing anything, or risking anything.

When Jesus sees a widow put in two small copper coins, he tells his disciples that “[she] has put in more than all those [others].”

Jesus says that because the widow’s gift was a sacrificial gift, not, as many of us do, giving from what we know we can spare, but giving from what God has first given us, trusting in God’s providence for her.

These characters don’t give us an easy model to follow.

Elijah and both widows trust in God’s providence. Their trust comes out of their obedience to follow God’s direction. Their obedience comes out of confidence in God’s faithfulness throughout generations to God’s people. It comes from knowing that we belong to God.

Of course, the modern world has a different message. It tells us that we are responsible for securing our future through our own efforts. Stockpile, save and protect ourselves against our enemies. Turn inward and put our trust in the leaders whom we see in the public square. The world asks us to give humans authority over our lives and teaches us to see the world through the lens of scarcity and fear.

But God teaches us that in Christ, we do not receive “a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but … a spirit of adoption.” The Spirit bears witness that we are children of God. (Romans 8:15-16)

We are the ones that Jesus addresses when he says, “32 ‘Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”

The Word of God invites us to have a different vision of the world, where we submit to God and see the world as God sees it, through the lens of abundance and obedience.

Scarcity is not a Kingdom reality; it is human construction that Elijah rejects and that the widow at the temple treasury denies. Instead, God promises us the fullness of life (John 10:10). Their stories remind us that God’s “life-giving power can transform situations of defeat, despair, and death.”[i]

“The Kingdom - or Kingship - of God is a reality just beyond our perception….”[ii] And instead of trying to control it, engineer it or dominate it, God calls us to walk in submission, humility and obedience, while we wait for its realization, in God’s own timing, not our own.

Let us pray…

Good and Gracious God,

We give you thanks for our daily bread,

for what we need to live in the fullness of life.

Help us reject the things that are not life-giving,

the things that separate us from you.

Teach us to trust in Your provision and the life you give us.

May your Holy Spirit lead us to give generously of all we have.

Send us out to share Your love with everyone we meet.
We pray in Jesus’ name.

Amen.



[i] Walter Brueggemann. Smith & Helwys Bible Commentary on First and Second Kings. 217.

[ii] Mike Breen. Covenant and Kingdom: The DNA of the Bible. 3DM. Kindle Edition.


Sunday, November 3, 2024

All Saints Sunday

John 11:32-44

Last Sunday we celebrated the affirmation of baptism for three of our youth. As part of that milestone, we ask them to choose a verse that’s meaningful to them, and we only exclude one verse. It’s the one that shows up in our gospel today: “Jesus began to weep.” In at least two other Bible translations it’s even more succinct, saying simply, “Jesus wept”.

It almost becomes a joke with the students because we hope they’ll remember the verse they chose, and choosing a verse that’s only a couple of words long isn’t much of a challenge.

But I’m rethinking those instructions this morning.

Today, as we celebrate All Saints Day, and we remember people who have died, in our congregation, among our family and friends, and in the wider world, I would guess that more than a few of us are weeping. And I think it is reassuring for us to know that Jesus also wept.

Jesus is fully human and because of that, he experienced the full range of emotions that we have – love for his friends, joy and thanksgiving for the gifts God shares with us, exhaustion from a weary world, anger at injustice, and as we hear in today’s gospel, deep sorrow and grief at the death of a dear friend.

And he is fully divine. Jesus is Emmanuel - God with us - throughout our lives, and bears witness to our tears. God accompanies us in the dark valleys of pain, loss and grief.

But that’s not all. Just as we do, Jesus experienced the helplessness and the heartache of not being able to stop death.

Lazarus died, and the man’s sisters and friends buried him in a tomb. It certainly felt like the worst thing had happened.

Reflecting on the gospel text, I wonder whether each of us can name grave moments we have experienced.

When have we felt like life was over?

When have we felt buried by life’s circumstances?

The wonder of the sign Jesus performs here in John’s Gospel is that, in Frederick Buechner’s words,

The worst isn't the last thing about the world. It's the next to the last thing. The last thing is the best.[i]

The last thing is the resurrection promise that we have new life in Christ.

In his first letter to the Corinthians Paul writes, “The sting of death is sin [and the things that separate us from God]” (15:56) and in the story of the restoration of Lazarus, God triumphs over death. It is a miracle or sign that points to God’s power over the death that threatens us all.

As Lutheran pastor Delmer Chilton says, “Jesus had to go into the tomb so we could come out…. we emerge from the decay and the rot”, new creations, restored to life by God’s love for us.[ii]

That doesn’t mean that the bad stuff doesn’t stink.

It doesn’t mean that death doesn’t sting.

It doesn’t mean that we don’t shed tears.

But it does promise us as our Scriptures say, that God will wipe away our tears (Rev. 21:4) and soothe our spirits. God will be the Comforter we are promised later in John’s gospel. (John 14:16,26)

The author of Revelation assures the community that not only does God live among us, but God is making all things new. (Revelation 21:3-5)

Of course, there’s no promise about God’s timing for all of this. We know from Scripture, and from experience, that it won’t be our timing, but the promise stands.

So, in the meantime, what do we do?

We could blame others, like Mary did when she told Jesus, “If you had been here, my brother would not have died.” (John 11:32)

We could be resigned to our circumstances, like Martha, when she said, “already there is a stench because he has been dead for four days.” (John 11:39)

A better way is to follow Jesus who saw what had happened and talks to God about it. He believes in God’s power to disrupt death, and he calls out, remembering God’s faithfulness and asking God to do what only God can do.

And Lazarus is revived and restored to his family and community.

May we always follow Jesus and have confidence in God’s promises for us and the world God created, believing that death is not the last thing.

Amen.

[i] Frederick Buechner, The Beast.

[ii] “All Saints Sunday, Year B”. The Rev. Delmer Chilton. Lectionary Lab Live Podcast.

Sunday, October 20, 2024

Lectionary 29B

Mark 10:35-45

Do you remember being in school and the teacher would begin to ask a question, and a hand would shoot up before the teacher had finished talking? There was always someone ready to jump in, eager to impress but not stopping to listen to what was being said.

James and John, even though they’re grown men, are like those overly excited school children tugging on Jesus’ robes, urging him to choose them, to bless them, to give them the influence or authority - the power - that he has.

Telling Jesus, “We want you to do whatever we ask of you”, they are oblivious to the weight, or burden, of the yoke – the responsibility - that comes with their desires. They cannot see past their own egos to understand what they are asking Jesus to do.

The self-centeredness that James and John display is at the very center of what Martin Luther defined as sin. He called it “incurvatus in se”, or being "curved in on ourselves".

And CS Lewis in his preface to Screwtape Letters writes,

We must picture Hell as a state where everyone is perpetually concerned about his own dignity and advancement, where everyone has a grievance, and where everyone lives the deadly serious passions of envy, self-importance, and resentment.

Self-centeredness and self-importance are the enemies of servanthood, and service to others is central to discipleship and following Jesus.

Two thousand years hasn’t changed the human condition all that much. We see the same patterns or behaviors far too often in modern life.

Most recently, here in western North Carolina, there have been stories that spotlight the sinful human condition that Luther and Lewis describe.

Well-intentioned donors dumped piles of clothing in places like Burnsville and at IAM, trying to help, but creating a flood of textiles that has only made it harder to organize resources. Making a plan that doesn’t include talking with the people we’re trying to help isn’t serving others; it’s only boosting our own egos in the name of “helping.”

And, while those folks missed the mark, others weren’t even trying to help. They simply seized on the stories of loss and created scams to benefit from the generous donors willing to pitch in and help neighbors financially. Others began soliciting work they never plan to finish, targeting vulnerable residents who aren’t sure where to find help.

In these places, no one was asking, like Jesus did,

“What is it you want me to do?”

Instead, they were acting out of their own interests, priorities, and charitably, their own ignorance.

When James and John come to Jesus, he tries to tell them they don’t know what they are asking, and then he addresses all the disciples, as a group, talking to them about what it means to be a servant and a disciple.

First Jesus talks about sacrifice, and the cup that he will drink. And with his words, because we are on this side of the crucifixion, we recall the cup of sour wine or vinegar that the soldiers gave him at the crucifixion. When he speaks about the right and the left, we are reminded that, at the crucifixion, those who are on his right and his left will be a robber and a thief, and most of the disciples had deserted him and hidden themselves out of fear of the authorities.

Jesus then contrasts what the world calls leadership to what leadership in God’s kingdom looks like. He acknowledges that the world expects rulers to be heavy-handed and they expect great leaders to be tyrants. And then he offers the disciples a different way to lead. A different way to be.

Selfless instead of self-centered.

Self-effacing instead of self-important.

Self-sacrificing instead of self-aggrandizing.

It is a way of being that lets someone else write the story.

For us, as Christians, we submit to God.

We surrender our ways for God’s ways.

And we ask God, “What is it You want me to do?”

And then, hopefully, we stop and listen.

When we raise our hand,

when we step forward to volunteer,

when we agree to lead,

hopefully we do so with the humility modeled by Jesus.

Thankfully, there are many stories of good work and generous volunteers responding well and effectively to the wreckage of Tropical Storm Helen in our community and throughout our region.

Many businesses are finding ways to help neighbors whether it was feeding neighbors Brunswick stew, giving away tomatoes, offering free laundry or hosting live music when the lights first came back on;
teams of volunteers are being coordinated through Habitat for Humanity to help households clean up and make repairs;
many, many volunteers are helping IAM and Manna Food Bank box and distribute the supplies they have;
congregations from other parts of North Carolina, as well as the Midwest and South have sent their quilts, blankets and winter coats to us to give to neighbors who may not have what they need as nighttime temperatures fall into the thirties;
Children & Family Resource Center and others have been making sure families have what they need to care for children and babies now;
and Storehouse has begun intake for their annual “Blessings in boxes” Christmas distribution, so that children will have as bright a Christmas as possible; 
and many people are giving financial gifts that help provide funding for recovery well into the future.

As we look ahead at where God is calling each of us, and our congregation, in the future, may we enter into conversation with God and with our neighbors and community, listen well, and ask,

“What is it you want us to do?”

Let us pray.

Good and gracious God, 

Thank you for your son Jesus who shows us what being a servant looks like. 

Help us follow Him and set aside our egos and our desires so that we can listen to You and know Your will. 

We pray in the name of our Lord and Savior. 

Amen.


Sunday, September 22, 2024

Lectionary 25B

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

Marcos 9:30-37

Oremos…

Que las palabras de mi boca y las meditaciones de nuestro corazón sean aceptables ante ti, Señor, fortaleza nuestra y redentor nuestro. Amén.

Hace poco estaba hablando con unos amigos y alguien dijo que estar en relación con los demás significa que debemos estar abiertos a que cambien nuestras mentes. No aferrarnos demasiado a nuestras propias ideas. Estar dispuestos a aprender algo nuevo sobre los demás, y tal vez sobre nosotros mismos. Yo añadiría que es importante saber cuándo decir: “No sé”.

En el evangelio de hoy, Jesús ha estado hablando a sus discípulos sobre la muerte que sufrirá y sobre la resurrección que presenciarán. Ellos no entienden y tienen miedo de preguntarle qué quiso decir. Luego, mientras viajan, Jesús los escucha discutiendo. Pero cuando les pregunta sobre qué están discutiendo, no responden. Nuevamente, tienen miedo.

No han aprendido la lección de decir: “No sé”. En cambio, simulan que entienden, y luego se distraen con objetos brillantes y relucientes y discuten sobre asuntos triviales.

Jesús no los regaña ni los sermonea, pero sí los desafía. Les dice: “El que quiera ser el primero, que sea el último de todos y el servidor de todos” (v. 35). Y luego levanta a un niño y lo toma en sus brazos.

En el mundo del primer siglo, si bien sus padres y familias los amaban, los niños no tenían estatus, poder ni derechos. Eran “los últimos” en la sociedad. La declaración de Jesús sobre ser “el servidor de todos” está encarnada en un niño.

Ciertamente, los niños pequeños, como los discípulos, pueden ser egoístas y egocéntricos. Pueden ser imprudentes como Pedro a menudo lo es. Pero esos no son los rasgos que elogiamos en los niños.

En cambio, celebramos su inocencia y confianza, su facil alegría y curiosidad , y su disposición a responder con amistad y compasión.

Mi hermano cuenta la historia de cuando le hizo una pregunta a nuestra madre cuando tenía casi cinco años después de escuchar a una maestra de la escuela dominical hablar sobre cómo todos vieron a Jesús morir en la cruz. Cuando salían de la iglesia ese día, le preguntó a nuestra madre: "¿Cómo fue para ti? ¿Cómo te sentiste, mientras estabas de pie entre la multitud, viendo morir a Jesús?" (Implicando, por supuesto, que ella era mucho mayor que sus veinticuatro años).

Recuerdo cuando mi hija iba al jardín de niños o “kínder” y la maestra me preguntó qué quería que pasara. Recuerdo haberle dicho a la maestra que le encantaba aprender y que no quería que su experiencia en el salon de clases  arruinara eso.

Una madre cuyo hijo menor tiene autismo contó la historia de cómo, el primer día de clases, un nuevo compañero lo había ayudado con la mochila al final del día, en lugar de ignorarlo.

En la Iglesia, enseñamos sobre las señales del discipulado y los frutos del Espíritu Santo, pero a veces, la respuesta a la pregunta: “¿Cómo es una vida fiel?” es aún más simple. Curiosidad, alegría y compasión, todo basado en el amor de Dios por cada uno de nosotros.

Martín Lutero retoma las palabras de Cristo en su escrito“Sobre la libertad del cristiano”, donde escribe:

“Un cristiano es un señor perfectamente libre de todos, no sujeto a nadie. Un cristiano es un siervo perfectamente obediente de todos, sujeto a todos, sujeto para todos”. [i]

Debemos servir a los demás, entrando en cada día con medidas de gratitud y humildad que nos den la libertad de acompañar o caminar junto a los demás, viéndolos como amados de Dios, para escuchar con curiosidad y responder con compasión.

En el evangelio de hoy, los discípulos nos brindan una imagen de lo que no es seguir fielmente a Jesús: tener miedo,

permanecer en silencio en lugar de hacer preguntas,

discutir y ser egoísta y egocéntrico.

En su epístola, Santiago nos insta a vivir con “la mansedumbre que nace de la sabiduría” (3:13) en lugar de caer presos de la envidia, la ambición egoísta, la jactancia y la mentira. (3:14) Se necesita disciplina para resistir las conductas y actitudes del mundo que nos rodea, para renunciar al mal, al diablo y a los poderes de este mundo que desafían a Dios, que se rebelan contra Dios y nos alejan de Él. Más que eso, se necesita que Cristo obre en nosotros, a través de la fe.

Cuando seguimos a Jesús con fe, con la curiosidad, alegría y compasión de los niños, ya no nos centramos en lo que el mundo nos dice que es importante: prestigio, poder, influencia y dinero; en cambio, nos centramos en aquellos a quienes Cristo ama, compartiendo el amor infinito de Dios con los demás e invitándolos a que vivamos juntos.

Oremos.

Dios bueno y misericordioso,

Gracias por tu Hijo Jesús y por atraernos hacia Ti.

Danos poder para resistir aquellas cosas que nos separarían de Ti y ayúdanos a tener una fe como la de los niños.

Llénanos de Tu Espíritu para que amemos y sirvamos a los demás.

Oramos en el nombre de Jesús.

Amén.


Mark 9:30-37

Recently I was talking with friends and someone said that being in relationship with others means we must be open to having our minds changed. To not hold too tightly to our own ideas. To be willing to learn something new about others, and maybe about ourselves. I would add that it’s important to know when to say, “I don’t know.”

In the gospel for today, Jesus has been telling his disciples about the death he will suffer and about the resurrection they will witness. They don’t understand and they’re afraid to ask him what he meant. Then, while they are traveling, Jesus overhears them arguing. But when he asks them what they are arguing about, they don’t answer. Again, they are afraid.

They haven’t learned the lesson to say, “I don’t know”. Instead, they pretend they understand, and then they get distracted by bright, shiny objects and argue about trivial matters.

Jesus doesn’t scold them or lecture them, but he does challenge them. He says, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” (v. 35) And then he lifts up a child, taking the child into his arms.

In the first century world, while they were loved by their parents and families, children had no status, power or rights. They were “the least” in society. Jesus’s statement about being “the servant of all” is embodied in a child.

Certainly, small children, like the disciples, can be selfish and self-centered. They can be reckless like Peter often is. But those aren’t the traits we praise in children. Instead, we celebrate their innocence and trust, their easy joy and curiosity, and their readiness to respond with friendship and compassion.

My brother tells the story of asking our mother a question when he was almost five years old after hearing a Sunday School teacher speak about everyone watching Jesus die on the cross. When they were leaving church that day, he asked our mom, “What was it like for you? How did you feel, as you stood in the crowd, watching Jesus die? (Implying, of course, that she was much older than her twenty-four years.)

I remember when my daughter was going to kindergarten and the teacher asked what I wanted to see happen next. I remember telling the teacher that she loved learning, and I didn’t want her classroom experience to spoil that.

A mom whose youngest son has autism told the story of how, on the first day of school, a new classmate had helped him with backpack at the end of the day, instead of ignoring him.

In the Church, we teach about marks of discipleship and fruits of the Holy Spirit, but sometimes, the answer to the question, “What does a faithful life look like?” is even simpler. Wonder, joy and compassion, all grounded in God’s love for each one of us.

Martin Luther picks up Christ’s words in his essay “On the Freedom of a Christian” writing,

“A Christian is a perfectly free lord of all, subject to none. A Christian is a perfectly dutiful servant of all, subject of all, subject to all.”[i]

We are to serve others, entering into each day with measures of gratitude and humility that give us the freedom to accompany or walk beside others, seeing them as God’s beloved, to listen with curiosity and to respond with compassion.

In today’s gospel, the disciples provide us with a picture of what faithfully following Jesus isn’t:

being fearful,

remaining silent instead of asking questions, and

bickering and being selfish and self-centered.

In his epistle, James urges us to live with “gentleness born of wisdom” (3:13) instead of falling prey to envy, selfish ambition, boasting and lying. (3:14) It takes discipline to resist the behaviors and attitudes in the world around us, to renounce evil, the devil, and the powers of this world that defy God, rebel against God and draw us away from God. More than that, it takes Christ working in us, through faith.

When we follow Jesus in faith, with childlike wonder, joy and compassion, we no longer focus on what the world tells us is important – prestige, power, influence and money; instead, we focus on those whom Christ loves, sharing God’s boundless love with others and inviting them into life together.

Let us pray.

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for your Son Jesus and for drawing us to You.

Empower us to resist those things that would separate us from you, and help us have childlike faith.

Fill us with Your Spirit that we would love and serve others.

We pray in Jesus’ name.

Amen.



[i] Martin Luther, “On the Freedom of a Christian”.

Sunday, September 15, 2024

"Deeper"

Ephesians 2:13-22

This month, as we worship, we are listening to stories from Scripture that shape our lives as disciples. We are asking how we can be good stewards of God’s gifts and people. We have looked at how we gather both as a community in worship and to bring together resources, and we have been encouraged to scatter beyond these walls to be good neighbors and to share generously what we have first been given.

Another dimension of our commitment to stewardship is depth.

Our Scripture today says, “[each of us is a member of the household of God] built upon the foundation of the apostles and the prophets….”

The apostles and the prophets are the people whose names we know from Bible study.

Prophets like Isaiah who said,

“Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old.

I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” (Isaiah 43:18-19)

and Jeremiah who promised, “For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the LORD, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.” (Jeremiah 29:11)

and Micah who asks God’s people, “what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” (Micah 6:8)

And apostles like Peter about whom Jesus says, “I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it.” (Matthew 16:18) Of course, it’s also Peter’s recklessness that shows us that discipleship is not about being perfect and getting everything right. And in whom we see the assurance of God’s mercy and forgiveness when we mess up.

Our foundation is built upon the experiences and words of these ancestors in faith and followers of Jesus. It has been tested and is solid and remains intact.

In Luke’s gospel, Jesus tells the parable of the wise and foolish builders. He says,

47 As for everyone who comes to me and hears my words and puts them into practice, I will show you what they are like. 48 They are like a man building a house, who dug down deep and laid the foundation on rock. When a flood came, the torrent struck that house but could not shake it, because it was well built. 49 But the one who hears my words and does not put them into practice is like a man who built a house on the ground without a foundation. The moment the torrent struck that house, it collapsed and its destruction was complete.” (Luke 6:47-49)

When a foundation is shallow, cracked or sunk, the integrity of its structure fails. It cannot bear the ordinary wear and tear of everyday life, let alone the challenges of sustained storms or trials.

Eleven years ago, the residents of a community in Iron Ridge in Lincoln County, North Carolina found this out the hard way. Torrential rains washed away a bridge that crossed a culvert to where 20 families lived. “After a couple of temporary repairs, a local contractor helped the residents restore the road to the way it had been.”[i] Last winter, it happened again and this time 25 families were stranded. The county put a temporary bridge in place, but it didn’t meet requirements, and they had to remove it. So, then they put in a footbridge. Residents had to park their vehicles on one side and walk or use four-wheelers to cross.

In the meantime, the crisis came to the attention of Mennonite Disaster Services (MDS) and Lutheran Disaster Response (LDR). The Mennonites had experience building bridges on private roads that had been washed out by floods and offered to come to Lincoln County to help, and they connected with Pastors Ray and Ruth Ann Sipe at Lutheran Disaster Response and the county’s Emergency Manager Mark Howell, who also happens to be an ELCA Lutheran. Together, with other partners, they were able to fund a new, larger and heavier bridge, built to support 38 tons.



The bridge opened on June 29 to the joy and relief of the residents. [ii]


The foundations of faith and trust led to relationships that literally connected people across obstacles and created new pathways.

As disciples, we are part of the household of God that is built upon the foundation of the prophets and the apostles. We have both a responsibility to see that it doesn’t erode or rust away into dust, and an imperative to trust its integrity. As our text says, God has placed Christ as the cornerstone. (Ephesians 2:20)

Christ, not our efforts or accomplishments, is the cornerstone. And Christ is the one who has gathered us, and who scatters us, and Christ is the one who invites us deeper into faith and discipleship.

As we look ahead to a new year of ministry, and as we anticipate a new strategic plan and priorities for our work as a congregation and in our community, may we have confidence that we already have the foundation necessary to support robust ideas and to bear the weight of our work. May we have courage to step out in faith, test new directions and try out new possibilities, knowing we are following our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Let us pray.

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for giving us faith built upon a firm foundation, strengthened through generations of faithful people.

Help us be good stewards of all you have first given us.

Deepen our own faith and give us courage to depend on you, listening to Your Word and your Holy Spirit.

We pray in Jesus’ name.

Amen.

[ii] ibid

Photos by Mark Howell, Emergency Manager, Lincoln County

Sunday, September 8, 2024

Lectionary 23B

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

Marcos 7:24-37

Oremos…

Que las palabras de mi boca y las meditaciones de nuestro corazón sean aceptables ante tu vista, Señor, fortaleza y redentor nuestro. Amén.

En el seminario, una profesora dijo una vez: “Lo que ves depende de dónde te sientes”. Y sus palabras permanecen conmigo hoy.

En el evangelio de hoy, nos encontramos con una mujer sin nombre, madre de un niño enfermo, griega, no judía. Y ella ha oído hablar de Jesús.

Podemos imaginarnos que ella ha escuchado historias de cómo sanó a un hombre con un espíritu inmundo en la sinagoga y al hombre con lepra (Marcos 1) o cómo los amigos de otro hombre habían hecho un agujero en el techo de una casa para traer a un hombre paralítico a Jesús. (Marcos 2) Quizás había escuchado cómo sanaba en sábado, desafiando las prohibiciones religiosas. (Marcos 3) O cómo había sanado a un hombre poseído por un demonio en Gerasene. (Marcos 5) Incluso había sanado a una mujer y a una hija pequeña como la suya. (Marcos 5)

Desde donde estaba sentada, desesperada por ver a su hija restaurada, vio la esperanza encarnada en Jesús, cuyo poder parecía traspasar todos los límites o categorías.

Pero en esta historia, lo que vemos, cuando Jesús se encuentra con la mujer, no es el Jesús compasivo o amoroso que conocemos, Aquel cuyas historias ella había escuchado.

Vemos a un hombre que está exhausto por las largas horas de viaje, las exigencias de ser un maestro y líder público, y soportar las críticas de los líderes religiosos.

Buscando un lugar donde esconderse, Jesús no puede escapar de la atención y las necesidades del mundo herido que lo rodea. Y responde con enojo, arremetiendo contra la mujer y llamándola con un nombre despreciativo.

Tal vez te puedas identificar con los momentos en que la ira se desata y la paciencia se agota. Y hablas sin pensar o alejas a alguien con tus palabras.Pero la mujer no retrocede. En cambio, desafía a Jesús a hacer algo mejor: a ser el Mesías, el Ungido que, según ella, tiene el poder de salvar, sanar y restaurar.

Ella me recuerda a los salmistas que claman a Dios en un lamento. Presentan su queja y luego le piden ayuda a Dios, nombrando las formas en que Dios ha liberado a su pueblo en el pasado, pidiéndole que sea el Dios que conocen de sus antepasados ​​y que haga las mismas cosas que ellos saben que Dios puede hacer.

Y al escuchar a esta madre, Jesús vuelve en sí. Escucha su lamento y su súplica de misericordia para su hija. Y responde que ella ha sido sanada.

La segunda historia del evangelio nos muestra que lo que Jesús aprendió de la mujer y su hija lo cambió. No solo en el momento, sino de manera permanente.

Esta vez, cuando un hombre sordo es llevado ante Jesús en la Decápolis, una ciudad bajo influencia griega que está habitada principalmente por gentiles, Jesús no lo despide.

En cambio, lo lleva aparte y lo sana.

La palabra que le dice al hombre significa: “Ábrete”. Y aunque sus palabras abren los oídos del hombre, los efectos de sus palabras llegan más allá de ese hombre.

Así como Jesús tuvo que abrir su corazón para responder a la mujer y a su hija, todos los que seguimos a Jesús tenemos el desafío de “abrirnos”.

A considerar

que vemos las cosas de manera diferente de los demás debido a donde estamos sentados, y que debemos abrirnos a nuevos entendimientos o perspectivas;

que tenemos algo que aprender de las personas que encontramos;

y que podemos tener partes de nosotros mismos que están cerradas, y necesitamos que Jesús nos sane.

No es un lugar cómodo.

Es humilde.

Cuando nos vemos reflejados en las historias de la Biblia, ya sean las parábolas que enseña Jesús o historias como las del evangelio de hoy, nos gusta imaginar que somos los héroes o al menos las personas que están del lado “correcto” del conflicto. Es una de las razones por las que resulta tan difícil leer la historia del arresto y la crucifixión de Jesús durante la Semana Santa; somos culpables de querer silenciarlo y somos cómplices de condenarlo a muerte.

Es difícil reconocer que podríamos reaccionar con el mismo desprecio que Jesús exhibe en la primera historia que escuchamos hoy. O que podríamos estar de acuerdo con los expertos religiosos que quieren mantener a todos en sus categorías y casillas restrictivas.

Y es aún más difícil vernos a nosotros mismos como los que todavía estamos aprendiendo y cambiando en respuesta a lo que Dios está haciendo en nuestras vidas.

La Buena Noticia de hoy es que Jesús es un modelo de lo que significa aprender y responder a los demás con amor y humildad.

Tenemos un Salvador, que es a la vez completamente humano y completamente divino, que conoce la tentación de alejarse de los demás y prestar atención solo a nuestras necesidades individuales, y que aprende de sus errores y sirve a los demás incluso cuando hay un camino más fácil que nos llama como el canto de una sirena. Este es el Jesús que encontramos en los evangelios, y que nos da la bienvenida al reino de Dios con perdón y misericordia, y el que encarna la esperanza cuando sentimos que no tenemos a nadie más a quien recurrir.

Gracias a Dios.

Amén.


In seminary, a professor once said, “What you see depends on where you sit.” And her words remain with me today.

In today’s gospel, we meet a nameless woman, the mother of a sick child, a Greek, not a Jew. And she has heard about Jesus.

We can imagine that she has heard stories of how he healed a man with an unclean spirit in the synagogue and the man with leprosy (Mark 1) or how another man’s friends had cut a hole in the roof of a house to bring a paralyzed man to Jesus. (Mark 2) Perhaps she had heard how he healed on the Sabbath, defying the religious prohibitions. (Mark 3) Or how he had healed a demon-possessed man in Gerasene. (Mark 5) He had even healed a woman and a young daughter like her own. (Mark 5)

From where she sat, desperate to see her daughter restored, she saw hope embodied in Jesus, whose power seemed to cross all boundaries or categories.

But in this story, what we see, when Jesus meets the woman, isn’t the compassionate or loving Jesus we know, the One whose stories she had heard.

We see a man who is exhausted by the long hours of travel, the demands of being a public teacher and leader, and weathering the criticism of the religious leaders.

Searching for a place to hide, Jesus cannot escape the attention and needs of the hurting world around him. And he responds angrily, lashing out against the woman and calling her a disparaging name.

Maybe you can relate to times when anger runs hot, and patience runs thin. And you speak thoughtlessly or push somebody away with your words.

But the woman doesn’t flinch. Instead, she challenges Jesus to do better: to be the Messiah, the anointed One who she has heard has the power to save, to heal and to restore.

She reminds me of the psalmists who cry out to God in lament. They make their complaint and then they ask God for help, naming the ways God has delivered God’s people in the past, asking God to be the God whom they know from their ancestors, and do the very things they know God can do.

And listening to this mother, Jesus returns to himself. He hears her lament and her plea for mercy for her daughter. And he responds that she has been healed.

The second story in the gospel shows us that what Jesus learned from the woman and her daughter changed him. Not just in the moment, but permanently.

This time, when a deaf man is brought to Jesus in the Decapolis – a city under Greek influence that is mostly inhabited by Gentiles – Jesus doesn’t send him away. Instead, he takes him aside and heals him.

The word he speaks to the man means, “Be opened”. And while his words open the man’s ears, his words’ effects reach beyond that one man.

Just as Jesus had to open his heart to respond to the woman and her daughter, all of us who follow Jesus are challenged to “be opened.”

To consider

that we see things differently that others because of where we sit, and we must open ourselves to new understandings or perspectives;

that we have something to learn from the people we encounter;

and that we may have parts of ourselves that are closed, and we need Jesus to heal us.

It’s not a comfortable place.

It’s humbling.

When we see ourselves in the stories in the Bible, whether it’s the parables that Jesus teaches or stories like the ones in today’s gospel, we like to imagine we would be the heroes or at least the people who are on the “right” side of conflict. It’s one of the reasons it’s so difficult to read the story of Jesus’ arrest and crucifixion during Holy Week; we are guilty of wanting to silence him and we are complicit in putting him to death.

It's challenging to recognize that we might react with the same disdain that Jesus exhibits in the first story we heard today. Or that we might agree with the religious experts who want to keep everyone in their constricting categories and boxes.

And it’s even more difficult to see ourselves as the ones who are still learning and still changing in response to what God is doing in our lives.

The Good News today is that Jesus models what it looks like to learn and to respond to others with love and humility.

We have a Savior, who is both fully human and fully divine, who knows the temptation to turn away from others and only pay attention to our individual needs, and who learns from his errors and serves others even when there is an easier way beckoning like a Siren’s song. This is the Jesus we meet in the gospels, and who welcomes us into God’s kingdom with forgiveness and mercy, and the one who does embody hope when we feel like we have nowhere else to turn.

Thanks be to God. Amen.