"Taken" Midweek Reflection (Week 3)

John15:12-17

Romans 8:12-17

In Life of the Beloved Nouwen urges us to receive the proclamation that each of us is God’s Beloved and then he acknowledges that “becoming the beloved” means embodying God’s love in our words and actions,
a task that isn’t accomplished in a day or a week or even a single season of our lives, but is an ongoing process.

Nouwen uses four words to describe the movement of the Spirit among us: taken, blessed, broken and given and we’re going to reflect on one word each week, beginning with “Taken”.

Concerned that “taken” can be heard as “cold and brittle”, Nouwen quickly replaces it with “chosen”, writing,
“As children of God, we are God’s chosen ones.” (51)

We hear this same language in our readings tonight from John’s gospel and from Paul’s letter to the Romans. I often say, “God gets all the verbs.” Tonight, we hear:

God chooses us.
God adopts us, and
God makes us heirs to God’s kingdom.

God does that, FOR US.

Nouwen continues, writing, “From all eternity, long before you were born and became a part of history, you existed in God’s heart.” (53-54)

I remember the first time I heard someone describe Jesus’ prayer in the high priestly prayer in John 17. There Jesus is praying  and he says, “⁹ I am asking on their behalf; I am not asking on behalf of the world but on behalf of those whom you gave me, because they are yours.”

Jesus prays for us because he knows how much God loves us, because God has claimed us as God’s own.

Nouwen writes because he wants us to understand that in the gaze of Christ, or as he writes, “the eyes of love”, we are seen as precious. (56)

God has chosen us with an everlasting love. (58)

Chosen. Precious. Beloved.

These are the words God uses for us, even when our world says otherwise. When we hear words that tear down or diminish, or when we experience rejection or humiliation, those words are not of God. For that matter, when we inflict suffering on others with our words, that is not of God either.

Choose whose voice you will heed.

And then celebrate with gratitude to God and to every person who reminds you of your chosen-ness. As Nouwen writes, “When we keep claiming the light, we will find ourselves becoming more and more radiant.” (62) That is the work of the Holy Spirit in us.

And as we live with gratitude, we also cultivate the desire for others to know that they too are chosen by God and beloved.

Nouwen writes, “It is impossible to compete for God’s love.” (64) My being chosen doesn’t mean someone else is excluded or rejected. Instead, as he says, we call forth “each other’s chosen-ness and a mutual affirmation of being precious in God’s eyes.” (65)

This is how we live as God’s Chosen.

Decimosexto Domingo despues de Pentecostés

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

Lucas 16:19-31

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

Pensando esta semana, en lo que nos dice esta parábola, me encontré con una caricatura que muestra a un ángel sonriente con túnica y a un hombre de pie sobre las nubes, mirando un ascensor claramente marcado con "arriba hacia al cielo" y "abajo hacia al infierno" y el hombre dice: "De alguna manera pensé que sería algo diferente".ⁱ

La parábola comienza con un hombre rico, más rico de lo que nadie puede imaginar, vestido de púrpura y lino fino, que festeja con suntuosidad y extravagancia todos los días, no solo en Shabat o en días santos. En mi imaginación, me imagino a Midas, recordado en la mitología griega por su capacidad de convertir en oro todo lo que tocaba.

Y luego Jesús nos habla de un segundo hombre, un hombre pobre que fue colocado en la puerta del hombre rico, a la entrada de su propiedad. En otras traducciones, a este hombre se le llama limosnero. Dependía de la ayuda de sus vecinos y de la comunidad, pero nunca oímos que recibiera ayuda del rico ni de nadie más.

Lo único que se nos dice de él es que tiene llagas que los perros lamen, y se nos dice su nombre. Se llama Lázaro, del hebreo el azar, que significa "Dios ha ayudado".

Las interpretaciones populares de esta parábola suelen añadir detalles que no forman parte de la historia. No se dice nada sobre la pureza ritual ni sobre la impureza. No se dice nada sobre el comportamiento de ninguno de los dos hombres. No se dice nada sobre la piedad, la religiosidad, la fe, la creencia ni la rectitud de ninguno de los dos. Son simplemente dos hombres: uno rico y bien alimentado, el otro pobre y hambriento.

Sin embargo, sabemos por las Escrituras que para los judíos observantes de la Torá, y para los cristianos en general, el mandato bíblico de cuidar a los pobres es claro.

• En Deuteronomio capitulo quince se instruye al pueblo: “Abre tu mano al pobre y al necesitado de tu tierra”. ⁱⁱ

• En la literatura sapiencial, Proverbios dice: “Quienes desprecian a su prójimo son pecadores, pero felices son los que son bondadosos con los pobres”. ⁱⁱⁱ y “² El rico y el pobre tienen esto en común: el Señor es el creador de todos ”. ^iv

• Y los profetas también aportan su granito de arena: Isaías le dice al pueblo: “Comparte tu pan con el hambriento y lleva a tu casa a los pobres sin hogar”. ^v Y Zacarías nos instruye: “Muestren bondad y misericordia los unos con los otros; ¹⁰ no opriman a la viuda, al huérfano, al extranjero ni al pobre”. ^vi

Al escuchar esta parábola, nos preguntamos: ¿Por qué el hombre rico ignoraría a Lázaro? Quizás se sentía impotente para ayudar o temía que se aprovecharan de él. Sin embargo, al reconocer nuestra condición humana, parece probable que nunca viera a Lázaro como su responsabilidad; o no le importaba lo que le sucediera o estaba ciego al sufrimiento que tenía frente a él, y ni siquiera vio al pobre.

Nuestro desconcierto dura poco.

En los versículos siguientes se nos dice que cada hombre muere y llega a habitar el Hades, que se traduce literalmente como el "lugar que no se ve". Irónicamente, Lázaro, quien no fue visto en vida, sí  es visto alli.

Hades, infierno, Seol o Gehenna se usan en las Escrituras para describir el lugar de los muertos. Las descripciones que tenemos no son literales ni geográficas, y nuestra comprensión del cielo y el infierno ha cambiado a lo largo del tiempo.

Los antiguos israelitas creían en un mundo de tres niveles donde el cielo estaba arriba y los muertos iban a un inframundo moralmente neutral abajo. No fue hasta el siglo IV (cuarto) que los judíos adoptaron la visión helenística del cielo como lugar para los salvos y el infierno como lugar para los condenados. Muchas de las imágenes familiares y gráficas del infierno que hoy reconocemos se originaron en el poema épico del siglo decimocuarto de Dante, la Divina Comedia, y en las pinturas del Juicio Final de los siglos decimoquinto y decimosexto, y estas imágenes persisten en la cultura popular actual.

Esta parábola describe un lugar completamente diferente “donde los salvos y los condenados podían verse”.^viii

Cuando el hombre rico clama, es evidente que lo único que ha cambiado es su ubicación. Su forma de pensar es la misma que tenia en vida.

Aunque ahora ve a Lázaro, e incluso sabe su nombre, sigue diferenciando como un “otro” a Lázaro, hablando sobre él, en lugar de hablarle directamente. El hombre rico primero le pide a Abraham que envíe a Lázaro a traerle agua. Y cuando eso falla, le pide que envíe a Lázaro a sus cinco hermanos para que se les evite el tormento que él está experimentando. Permanece ciego a la verdad de que él y Lázaro son ambos hijos de Abraham, hermanos ante los ojos de Dios.

Incluso cuando Abraham le dice al hombre rico que hay un abismo que puede ser cruzado, no ve su propia complicidad en su destino. Su propia ignorancia y falta de compasión excavaron ese abismo; es el mismo abismo que usó en vida para separarse de los pobres y los que sufrían. Es tan profundo como sus miedos y desprecio, su egoísmo y desprecio. Ahora, como escribe la teóloga Amy-Jill Levine, "pasará la eternidad viendo lo que no puede tener".^x

— una plenitud que solo es posible en la vida con Dios, como parte del reino.

Esta parábola nos recuerda que “Dios no se rige por nuestras reglas”. ^xi Cuando nos encontremos con el reino de Dios, será diferente de lo que imaginamos, así como Dios está más allá de nuestro conocimiento y comprensión actual. Lo que sabemos en este momento, y lo que nos enseñan la ley y los profetas, es que tenemos la responsabilidad de derramar la misericordia y la compasión de Dios aquí y ahora.

Oremos…

Dios del cielo y de la tierra,
Gracias por tu misericordia y gracia que nos hace tus hijos y herederos de tu reino.
Enséñanos a ver a las personas con tus ojos y a amarlas como tú las amas.
Haznos compasivos y generosos al salir al mundo a compartir la Buenas Nuevas de tu abundante amor.
Oramos en el nombre de Jesús, nuestro Señor y Salvador.
Amén.

i Werner Wejp-Olsen. https://www.cartoonstock.com/directory/o/otis.asp, accessed 9/28/2019.
ⁱⁱ Deuteronomy 15:11
ⁱⁱⁱ Proverbs 14:21
^iv Proverbs 22:1-2
^v Isaiah 58:7
^vi Zechariah 7:9-10
^vii https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Biblical_cosmology, accessed 9/26/2019.
^viii Amy-Jill Levine. Short Stories by Jesus. 286.
^vix Levine, 288.
^x Levine. 289.
^xi Levine, 300.

Luke 16:19-31

Thinking this week about what this parable says to us, I came across a cartoon that shows a smiling robed angel and a man standing on clouds, looking at an elevator clearly marked “up for heaven “and “down for hell” and the man is saying, “Somehow I thought it would be somewhat different.”[i]

The parable begins with a rich man who is richer than anyone can imagine, clothed in “purple and fine linen” and feasting sumptuously or extravagantly every day, not just at Shabbat or on high holy days. In my imagination, I picture Midas who is remembered in Greek mythology for his ability to turn everything he touched into gold.

And then Jesus tells us about a second man, a poor man who was laid at the gate of the rich man, at the entrance to his property. In other translations, this man is called a beggar. He was dependent on help from neighbors and community, but we never hear that he received any help from the rich man or anyone else.

All we are told about him is that he has sores that the dogs lick, and we are told his name. He is named Lazarus from the Hebrew el azar which means “God has helped.”

Popular interpretations of this parable often add things that aren’t part of the story. Nothing is said about ritual purity and uncleanliness. Nothing is said about either man’s demeanor. Nothing is said about either man’s piety or religiosity, faith or belief, or righteousness. They’re just two men, one rich and well-fed, one poor and hungry.

However, we know from Scripture that for Torah-observant Jews, and for Christians for that matter, the biblical mandate to care for the poor is clear.

·    In Deuteronomy 15 the people are instructed, “"Open your hand to the poor and needy neighbor in your land."[ii]

·    In wisdom literature, Proverbs says, “Those who despise their neighbors are sinners, but happy are those who are kind to the poor.[iii] and “² The rich and the poor have this in common: the LORD is the maker of them all.”[iv]

·    And the prophets add their two cents, too: Isaiah tells the people, “share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house;[v] and Zechariah instructs us, “show kindness and mercy to one another; ¹⁰ do not oppress the widow, the orphan, the alien, or the poor;”[vi]

Hearing this parable, we wonder, Why would the rich man ignore Lazarus? Maybe he felt powerless to help, or anxious that he would be taken advantage of. Recognizing our human condition though, it seems as likely that he never saw Lazarus as his responsibility; he either didn’t care what happened to the man or he was blind to the suffering right in front of him, and never even saw the poor man.

Our bewilderment is short-lived.

In the verses that follow we’re told each man dies and come to inhabit Hades, which translates literally as the “unseen place.” Ironically, Lazarus, who was not seen in life, is seen there.

Hades, hell, Sheol or Gehenna are all used in Scripture to describe the place of the dead. The descriptions we have aren’t literal or geographical and our understanding of heaven and hell has changed throughout time. Ancient Israelites believed in a three-tiered world where heaven was above and the dead went to a morally neutral underworld below. It wasn’t until the fourth century that Jews adopted the Hellenistic view of heaven as a place for the saved and hell as a place for the damned.[vii] Many of the familiar and graphic images of hell we might recognize today originated with Dante’s fourteenth century epic poem Divine Comedy and 15^th and 16^th century paintings of the Last Judgment and these images persist in popular culture today.

This parable describes a completely different place “where the saved and the damned could see each other.”[viii]

When the rich man cries out, it’s clear that the only thing that has changed is his location. His way of thinking is the same as it was in life. While he now sees Lazarus, and even knows his name, he still “others” him, speaking about him, instead of speaking directly to him. The rich man first asks Abraham to send Lazarus to bring him water. And when that fails, he asks him to send Lazarus to his five brothers so that they might be spared the torment that he’s experiencing. He remains blind to the truth that he and Lazarus are both children of Abraham, brothers in God’s sight. [ix]

Even when Abraham tells the rich man there is a chasm that cannot be bridged, he fails to see his own complicity in his fate. His own ignorance and lack of compassion carved out that chasm; it is the same chasm he used in life to separate himself from the poor and the suffering. It is as deep as his fears and disdain, his selfishness and contempt. Now, as theologian Amy-Jill Levine writes, “he will spend eternity seeing what he cannot have”[x] — a wholeness that is only possible in life with God, as part of the kingdom.

This parable reminds us that “God does not play by our rules.”[xi] When we encounter God’s kingdom, it’s going to be different than we imagine, just as God is beyond our knowledge and understanding now. What we know, right now, and what we are taught in the law and by the prophets, is that we have the responsibility to pour out God’s mercy and compassion here and now.

Let us pray…

God of heaven and earth,

Thank you for your mercy and grace that make us Your children and heirs to Your kingdom.

Teach us to see people through Your eyes and to love them as You love them.

Make us compassionate and generous as we go out into the world to share the Good News of your abundant love.

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

Amen.

---

[i] Werner Wejp-Olsen. https://www.cartoonstock.com/directory/o/otis.asp, accessed 9/28/2019.

[ii] Deuteronomy 15:11

[iii] Proverbs 14:21

[iv] Proverbs 22:1-2

[v] Isaiah 58:7

[vi] Zechariah 7:9-10

[vii] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Biblical_cosmology, accessed 9/26/2019.

[viii] Amy-Jill Levine. Short Stories by Jesus. 286.

[ix] Levine, 288.

[x] Levine. 289.

[xi] Levine, 300.

"Becoming the Beloved" Midweek Reflection (Week 2)

1 John 4:7-21

Matthew 5:43-48

Henri Nouwen’s Life of the Beloved begins by urging us to accept, or receive, the proclamation that each of us is God’s Beloved.

Next, Nouwen describes the difference between “being the beloved” and “becoming” the beloved.

The latter looks a lot like the incarnation. “In the incarnation, life, ministry, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, God reconciles the world to God’s own self, and in doing so reconciles us to one another.”[i]

This “Becoming” is what happens when we so fully live into our identity that our Beloved-ness is visible and tangible in the ways we eat and drink, talk and love, play and work. (47)

It is what happens when we embody God’s love in our words and actions, in the everyday activities of our lives.

And it is a process.

I think when we are children, we imagine that life will be a linear journey. Maybe there will be some ups and downs, but generally it will be steady forward movement.

And then we discover that life is far less predictable than that. Life can be topsy-turvy and chaotic. Sometimes, it proceeds at a rapid pace, and other times, we get stopped in our tracks and it feels like everything has come to a grinding halt.

As followers of Jesus, we never journey alone, but with God accompanying us and loving us every day. Part of “becoming the beloved’ is recognizing God’s presence with us.

Nouwen urges us to notice the ways that the Holy Spirit is active in our lives, instead of merely going through the motions, or falling into patterns of busy-ness, boredom or listlessness that lack meaning or depth.

In the weeks ahead, we’ll talk about the four words that Nouwen uses to describe the movement of the Spirit among us: taken, blessed, broken and given – words that echo the meal that we share when we gather at the Lord’s Table, and again invite us into relationship with our Incarnate God.

Amen.

---

[i] Rachel Wangen Hoch. “Incarnation and the Holy Innocents.” Journal of Lutheran Ethics. December 2010 (Volume 10 Issue 12). https://learn.elca.org/jle/incarnation-and-the-holy-innocents/, accessed 9/23/25.

 

Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 16:1-13

Sometimes, when we listen to Jesus teach in parables we hear a clear command:
“Go and do likewise.”

Today isn’t one of those times. While the parable we hear in Luke’s gospel leaves us with a lot of questions, I can confidently say that Jesus doesn’t want us to loan money and charge outrageous interest, steal from our employers, or manipulate others so that they will be indebted to us.

So, we’re left with confusion about why Jesus tells us this parable at all.

The best explanation I have heard is one offered by Julian DeShazier (Dee-Shah-Zee-Ay), a pastor and faculty member at McCormick Theological Seminary in Chicago. He thinks that “[Jesus] is talking to two different audiences.”[i]

This conversation follows his telling of the parable of the lost things that we heard last week and the parable of the prodigal son.

Jesus is talking to his disciples, but we know they are also surrounded by all these other people who Luke tells us are tax collectors, sinners, Pharisees and scribes. (15:1-2) So “Jesus talks to the crowd, pauses, talks to his disciples, and then talks to the crowd again.”[ii]

A few weeks ago, when my daughter got married in Boston, the ceremony was in the Boston Public Garden. There were about thirty of us at the wedding, but it was a large public park so there were also a number of people on the periphery of where the ceremony took place. People we didn’t know. But they could hear and see everything that was happening.

That’s seems to be what’s happening here. Jesus has two audiences.

This parable isn’t about imparting a life lesson or teaching good behavior.

Instead, I think Jesus tells the people in the crowd who have made dishonest gains or treated others unfairly to change their behavior and redeem themselves.

I think he is challenging all of his followers to see the abundant gifts God has entrusted us with and ask how we can be good stewards.

What does it look like for us to be found trustworthy with what we have been given?

We shouldn’t underestimate the wealth we’ve been given.

The true riches we have are

our very lives, lived in response to God’s love.

We have boundless grace from God and forgiveness for our sin.

We have an inheritance with Jesus as children of God.

And, we are entrusted with the Good News of God’s love and empowered by the Holy Spirit to share that Good News with others.

That is wealth that cannot be measured in dollars and cents.

But we, especially here at Grace Lutheran Church,
are also stewards of wealth that can be measured in dollars and cents.

This week I sat in with board members from the Grace Foundation as they evaluated funding requests and made decisions about the grants to distribute later this year. There is more than $120,000 available for grants and scholarships because the foundation has been a good steward of what they’ve been given.

And recently, Deacon Kimberly has been in meetings with social ministry as they make budget recommendations for next year, deciding which ministry partnerships to continue and where investment is needed most. This year, they gave nearly $60,000 in support for our neighbors, including helping address housing and food insecurity, and care for our children and vulnerable neighbors.

Individually, in the stewardship mailing that may have already arrived in your mailbox, and that Jen Heilemann from the stewardship team described in this morning’s ministry moment, each of us here is also being asked, “How will you respond to God’s abundance?”

One aspect of your stewardship is financial giving. As a former fundraiser, I am not going to shy away from asking you to invest financially in Grace’s ministry and mission for the coming year. Not as something you “have to do” but as something you “get to do.” In our partnership together, you have an opportunity to see God’s love in action through our work as the Church and experience the joy of seeing God’s love transform our world.

Another aspect of your stewardship is your relationship with God, so we ask how you will respond to the invitation to grow deeper spiritually. Maybe you will take time to be quiet and study or read, listening for God’s voice, or to get loud and sing, celebrating all God has given us.

And thirdly, we invite you to reflect on your service in the congregation and community. What does love in action look like for you?

One of the joys I have where I sit is getting to see all the people from Grace who are involved in the community apart from Grace’s initiatives. Independently from Servant Saturday, food drives and the other opportunities we provide, many of you are connected to our ministry partners because you have responded to their needs with your time, skills and knowledge. In the many ways that you are God’s hands and feet in the world, you are being stewards of all that God has given you.

We are all stewards of what we have been given in abundance by God, and God calls us to be faithful and trustworthy in matters large and small.

May it be so in our community.

Amen.

---

[i] Julian DeShazier . “Living by the Word”, Christian Century, August 27, 2019.

[ii] ibid

"Being the Beloved" Midweek Reflection (Week 1)

Henri Nouwen’s Life of the Beloved began as a letter to a dear friend. He had met a man named Fred Bratman years earlier when Nouwen was teaching at Columbia University, and they had many conversations about spiritual and secular life. Bratman, a secular Jew living in New York City later asked Nouwen to write for him and his friends, an audience unfamiliar with the language and traditions of the Church and Christianity. He told Nouwen, “You have something to say, but you keep saying it to the people who least need to hear it.” (21)

Over the next seven weeks, I’m going to reflect on Nouwen’s book and what difference it makes that God calls each of us “God’s beloved”, and we are called to live a life based on that fact. 

Nouwen begins as we did last Wednesday with God’s words to Jesus at his baptism:

“You are my Son, the Beloved; my favor rests on you.” (Mt. 3:16-17, Mark 1:10-11, Luke 3: 21-22)

To each one of us, God says, “You are the Beloved.”

And, I wonder, what images come to your mind when you hear the word “loved” or “beloved”?

God chooses each one of us and loves each one of us with the same heart with which God loves Jesus. (Abiding Together podcast)

In our lives, sometimes we have other voices that tell us a different message; the message that says you are “no good”, “a failure”, “worthless”, “ugly” or “a nobody”, and those negative voices can be so loud or persistent that they are easy to believe.

But God’s voice is louder still.

This reminds me of Martin Luther who, as the story goes, would face temptation by saying, ‘I have been baptized, I am a Christian.”  (Works of Martin Luther (WAT) Volume 6. no.6830; 217, 26f.)

We need to listen for God’s voice calling us the Beloved.

We need to remember that God speaks truth, and, as Pope John Paul II said, “We are not the sum of what we’ve done but of the Father’s love for us.” (Apostolic Letter to the Elderly (October 1, 1999))

And we need to remember, as Deacon Kimberly reminded us on Sunday, and we heard again in tonight’s reading from Romans, that nothing separates us from the love of God.

Listening for God’s voice is a central practice of our faith and spirituality. This is the work of prayer, not only talking to God, but leaving space for silence and active listening for what God says and how God responds. It is easy to listen to loud and intrusive voices, to streaming media and news, and even to friends and family, but listening to God’s voice “with great attentiveness” is different.

As we continue with worship and go about our daily lives through the coming week, I invite you to stop each day and take time to listen to God who calls you the beloved. Amen.

Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 14:1, 7-14

I can’t hear Jesus’ words in our gospel this morning and not think of Emily Post. Emily Post became famous in the early twentieth century for her writing about etiquette – manners and behaviors based on consideration, respect and honesty, and her standards were widely accepted and taught. I still remember the etiquette dinner my business college hosted for the seniors so we could learn how to engage in a professional setting, and, among other things, not order spaghetti and meatballs - with the potential hazards of splattered tomato sauce, slurped noodles and flying meatballs.

But Emily Post wasn’t Jesus.

And Jesus wasn’t giving etiquette lessons.

In our gospel today, when Jesus joins the pharisee and his dinner guests at the table, first he watches them and sees them make completely predictable choices that are in keeping with the norms of their society and culture in the first century of the Greco-Roman world. A society based on rank and position and status. A culture based on hierarchy and patronage.

Then Jesus tells them a parable that challenges them to make different choices next time.

Because Jesus envisions a kingdom that erases human divisions and appreciates differing gifts and abilities and creates a place of belonging for all.

Jesus shows the pharisee and his guests that the system they are operating within is exclusive and unfair:

Guests jockey for the best seat because their proximity to the host implies something positive about their status.

And hosts invite guests who can reciprocate or repay them with a similar gesture.

The system defines a person’s value solely based on what they can give or do for another person.

For those who have resources, the system works well. But if someone is a child or a woman or is differently abled – in the language from Luke “poor, crippled, lame or blind” – then they wouldn’t be invited to the table.

And that’s a big problem. For Jesus. And for us.

For decades, especially in the last century, Lutheran churches grew because generations of Lutheran families gave birth to more generations of Lutherans. Today, procreation is not a reliable church growth strategy. Similarly, in the mid-twentieth century, Lutheran churches grew because in part because the Church was at the center of white American culture and society. Today, it just isn’t. Another reality is that for a very long time, churches have been structured on the idea that we are first a community of believers, and that a person who believes what “Christians” believe and behaves the way “Christians” behave is welcome and “belongs”.

But what happens when we meet a person who didn’t grow up going to church on Sundays and Wednesdays and isn’t sure what Lutherans believe?

or someone who isn’t married or doesn’t have children but wants to belong in a community?

or a young parent who loves worship, but they’re shushed when the baby babbles through the choir’s anthem?

Jesus’ vision is a prophetic vision of a beloved community that levels the uneven ground and smooths out the rough places (Isaiah 40:4) so that all are welcome.

“All are welcome” is a big tent statement. I mean, it says that you are welcome regardless of …you name it:

your political beliefs;

your language or country of origin;

what clothes you are wearing;

your education level;

your housing status….and on and on.

It’s a long list. And I think Jesus means it.

He wants us to welcome all,

even the people who are different from me and from you.

You may remember that I didn’t grow up Lutheran. I remember two particular times when the Lutheran congregations where we worshiped welcomed my family especially well. The first was in the congregation where our children were baptized and where we became ELCA Lutherans. In that congregation, I would sit in the last pew. I’d bring my knitting and my coffee and participate in worship as best as a tired young mother could. And then in another state and another congregation, the pastor invited our elementary-age daughter to serve as the acolyte, and no one said anything when our youngest danced in the side aisle during the hymns. In both of those congregations, we found a place where we belonged and learned what it means to be Lutheran later.

Jesus’ vision for the Kingdom offers us opportunities to see ourselves and others through the lenses of compassion, equality and abundance, instead of productivity, rank and scarcity. We are more than what we can offer someone else, and we don’t need to be anxious about whether we belong at the table, or whether someone else is going to take our seat or get an even better one.

Here at Grace, one of our goals for the new strategic plan is focused on supporting members and visitors in the Grace community, helping people know God’s love for them, and creating a supportive environment for all ages and backgrounds.

Even before the strategic plan was adopted last spring, we recognized that some folks have a hard time sitting for an extended amount of time, and others, like me, listen better when my hands are busy. So now we have a basket of fidget toys near the doors to the sanctuary. And anyone, child or adult, is welcome to use the noiseless toys and return them after worship.

Another conversation we’ve been having is how we can organize programming and activities that accommodate working adults and families, so that’s part of why we have reimagined Oasis this fall. We hope a later start time will make it more feasible for folks to come over to church or hop online on Wednesday nights at 6:30, take a deep breath and worship in community here at Grace.

As some of you noticed, we are also asking how we can have people with different gifts and backgrounds involved as congregation leaders here at Grace. We have a lot of older, white and retired members, and we are grateful for the many gifts you share, AND we want to listen well to others whose experiences and gifts are different from yours.

Some may lament that the table isn’t big enough to include everyone, but the answer isn’t to turn them away.

The answer is to build a longer table, not only seeing and accepting the beautiful array of gifts God gives us in each other,

but appreciates how our differences are a blessing.

This is the Lord’s table after all, and all are welcome.

Amen.

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.

---

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

Tenth Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 12:49-56

Aw, man, I really didn’t want to preach today’s gospel.

From Jesus naming his desire to bring fire to the earth (v. 49) and  predicting the ways that households would be divided by his words (v. 51-53) to his condemnation of his audience, calling them “hypocrites”, I was left wondering,

“How is this Good News?”

Seriously, I thought about preaching a different text today.

But you may remember that in a sermon last month Pastor Jonathan shared how following Jesus, living lives of discipleship and choosing to be faithful to the Gospel means sometimes choosing to do hard things.

And while I would like to only listen to Jesus when he says comforting words, I know that I need to hear his challenging words, too.

So, I went back to the text. And not only our gospel text, but also the words of Jeremiah that are paired with it today.

Because Jeremiah is speaking to God’s people and reminding them that prophets speak the Word of the Lord faithfully. They don’t only say what people want to hear. They don’t only speak words of promise and comfort. And a Word that comes through the prophet is also, always first a Word to the prophet. 

Sometimes God’s Word is not so much like a gentle whisper but like the fire sent at Pentecost, sweeping through and making room for what’s next; sometimes it is like a hammer that breaks open rugged rocks to reveal what is precious within them.

If we start with what we know about who Jesus is, then I think we can hear the Good News in our gospel today.

Jesus wants us to know we are loved and forgiven, and Jesus wants us to be reconciled, with God and with one another, and to flourish in relationship and community. And He regularly calls out the obstacles to that abundant life, naming the powers and principalities and those things that draw us away from God.

When Jesus speaks of fire and baptism, we are meant to remember the words of John the Baptizer in Luke 3 who said,

I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire. (3:16-17)

The fire that Jesus wants to kindle is not one of damnation and punishment, but one of purifying and refining power. It burns away the stuff that doesn’t matter and preserves what is needed.

This interpretation is supported later in Luke, in chapter 9, when Jesus and his disciples reach Samaria and are rejected. James and John ask Jesus if he wants them to “command fire to come down from heaven and consume [the Samaritans]” and Jesus rebuked the disciples. The basis of judgment is our conduct, but the basis for hope is always God. (The Rev. Dr. Richard Nysse, Luther Seminary) The Lord is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. (Psalm 145:8)

But Jesus doesn’t pretend that following him will be easy. He says that, in fact, listening to Him and choosing to follow Him will make life hard. It can create difficulty and strife in relationships. We can expect that we will disagree about what it means to follow Jesus - in our households, in our congregations and the wider Church. 

This tension between following Jesus and living in the world isn’t new.

It echoes what Jesus told the men in Luke 9 who wanted to complete their household responsibilities before they followed Him: 
the Kingdom of Heaven demands our full and immediate attention and takes priority over everything else.

It’s a hard word to hear and to preach and even harder to follow.

We know that the prophetic word is one that is met with resistance. The prophet Micah answered the question, “What does the Lord require of you?” with the deceptively simple “Do justice, love kindness and walk humbly with your God.” (Micah 6:8)

Justice. Humility. Kindness.

This is the hard work of discipleship to which we are called. Throughout his Small Catechism, Luther interprets God’s commandments for us, explaining each one within the context of what it means to “fear and love God”. 

Here Jesus tells us that in our Christian lives, we are called to let go of the things that serve ourselves and our egos, to let them burn up like the chaff on the threshing floor. He warns us against self-deception and calls us to honest reflection, that we may “know God more clearly, love God more dearly, and follow God more nearly, day by day”. (Prayer of St. Richard)

There is Good News here for us today. We do not need to be afraid of the fire Jesus desires to kindle in us. It is the burning presence of the divine in our lives, that does not consume, but assures us that God is here, and it is the life-giving Holy Spirit that shines brightly in all of his disciples.

Let us pray.

Holy God,

Thank you giving us Your Son Jesus to comfort and challenge us.

Help us listen to the prophetic word and obey

That the world may know your love and mercy through our bold actions.

We pray in the name of Jesus.

Amen.

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.