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

Lectionary 14A (Sexto domingo después de Pentecostés)

Mateo 11:16-19, 25-30

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

Oremos…

Sean gratos los dichos de mi boca y las meditaciones de nuestros corazones delante de ti, oh Jehovah, Roca mía y Redentor mío. Amén. (Salmos19:14 RVA)

Cuando nos encontramos con Jesús en el Evangelio de hoy, él habia estado enseñando. Primero, escuchamos su Sermón del Monte donde nos desafió a vivir las promesas del reino de Dios aquí en la tierra.

Despues Jesús le dijo a sus discípulos lo costoso que sería seguirlo. Les dijo que incluso sus familias podrian odiarlos. Les dijo que la gente es voluble o poco confiable y que es imposible complacer a todos.

Y luego les dijo, que el reino de Dios no se realiza por nuestras acciones. El reino de Dios es la acción de Dios en el mundo y estamos invitados a participar en él. De la misma manera, el conocimiento de Dios no viene a través de pruebas empíricas, sino a través de la revelación y el don de la sabiduría que Dios nos ha dado.

Y luego, al final del Evangelio de hoy, Jesús ofrece una invitación.

Jesús sabe en qué formas las contradicciones e inconsistencias del mundo son injustas. Jesús sabe que las expectativas que ponemos en nosotros mismos no son realistas. Pero también sabe que la promesa es que el reino de Dios será justo. Será un lugar donde la humildad y el servicio a los demás sean la norma. Será un lugar donde se valore la pacificación sobre la guerra.

Es el lugar donde se encuentra la libertad.

La libertad aquí no es solo la libertad de la esclavitud de los amos opresores. La libertad en el evangelio es la libertad de la esclavitud del pecado. Es la libertad de las cosas que nos alejan de Dios y de las formas en que nos alejamos de Dios. Es la libertad de saber que en Cristo somos justificados y santificados. Por gracia somos salvos o liberados. Y no estamos solos. Estamos unidos con Cristo.

La invitación aquí no es una invitación a unas vacaciones para toda la vida. Jesús nos ve, atados o en yugo a cosas que nos deprimen. Él ve nuestros miedos y preocupaciones y nuestro agotamiento. Nos invita a hacer un intercambio. Dejar el yugo que hemos llevado y tomar el que él nos ofrece. Nuestras cargas son más ligeras porque no estamos solos. Jesús nos ayuda a llevarlas, fortaleciéndonos, dándonos descanso para que seamos renovados para lo que viene.

Debido a que él nos ha advertido, podemos esperar que estar en yugo con Jesús tendrá sus propios desafíos. Elegir la humildad sobre el orgullo o la arrogancia significa sacrificio. Y elegir la mansedumbre sobre la violencia o la coerción significa rendirse. Unidos a Jesús, se nos recuerda que la vida en el reino de Dios se ve diferente de los reinos terrenales.

Una de las diferencias es que se nos manda a descansar. Oímos en el primer mandamiento: "Acuérdate del día de reposo para santificarlo. (Éxodo 20:8)

Las preguntas sobre qué es el día de reposo y qué significa santificarlo podrían ser un estudio bíblico completo. Pero la semana pasada alguien me preguntó cómo es mi sábado de reposo. Para mí, como pastor, no pienso en el domingo como mi día de reposo porque por muy alegre que sea este trabajo, estoy trabajando. Pero trato, en la medida de lo posible, de mantener los viernes como mi día de reposo. Un día lejos de mi computadora, correo electrónico y reuniones. Tengo una pequeña confesión: a menudo todavía escribo mi sermón ese día porque es el día en que puedo encontrar un lugar tranquilo donde puedo escribir. Pero con la misma frecuencia, hago yoga, paso tiempo al aire libre, leo y descanso. Descanso, confiada en que la lista de cosas por hacer estará allí al día siguiente. Descanso consciente de que mi cuerpo no es una máquina. Descanso sabiendo que está bien simplemente estar presente en el mundo y estar agradecida por mi lugar en él.

Al invitarnos a vivir juntos, Jesús alienta este tipo de descanso sabático donde podemos descansar y renovarnos en cuerpo, mente y alma.

Tiene el propósito de ser un bálsamo o ungüento, para ayudarnos a sanar y ser fortalecidos para nuestra vida juntos en el reino de Dios.

Oremos…

Dios bueno y misericordioso,

Gracias por tu Hijo Jesús

quien nos libra del pecado

y nos muestra el camino de la sabiduría,

revelando la bondad de la vida juntos.

Ayúdanos a vivir con humildad y mansedumbre y encontrar descanso para nuestras almas.

Oramos en el nombre de Jesús.

Amén.

Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30

When we meet Jesus in today’s Gospel, he’s been teaching. First, we heard his Sermon on the Mount where he challenged us to live out the promises of God’s kingdom here on earth.

Then Jesus told his disciples how costly following him will be. He told them that even their families may hate them. He told them that people are fickle or unreliable and that it is impossible to please everyone.

And then he told them, that the kingdom of God isn’t realized because of our actions. The kingdom of God is God’s action in the world and we are invited to participate in it. In the same way, knowledge of God doesn’t come through empirical proof, but through revelation and the gift of wisdom given to us by God.

And then, at the end of today’s Gospel, Jesus offers an invitation.

Jesus knows that the ways in which the contradictions and inconsistencies of the world are unjust. Jesus knows that the expectations we place on ourselves are unrealistic. But he also knows that the promise is that God’s kingdom will be just. It will be a place where humility and service to others are the standard. It will be a place where peacemaking is valued over war-mongering.

It is the place where freedom is found.

Freedom here isn’t only freedom from slavery by oppressive masters. Freedom in the gospel is freedom from bondage to sin. It is freedom from the things that draw us away from God and from the ways that we turn away from God. It is the freedom of knowing that in Christ, we are justified and sanctified. By grace we are saved or freed. And we are not alone. We are united with Christ.

The invitation here isn’t an invitation to a lifelong vacation. Jesus sees us, tethered or yoked to things that lay us low. He sees our fears and worries and our exhaustion. He invites us to make a trade. To put down the yoke we have carried and to take the one that he offers to us. Our burdens are lighter because we are not alone. Jesus helps us carry them, strengthening us, giving us rest that we may be renewed for what lies ahead.

Because he has warned us, we can expect that being yoked with Jesus will have its own challenges. Choosing humility over pride or arrogance means sacrifice. And choosing gentleness over violence or coercion means surrender. Yoked to Jesus, we are reminded that life in God’s kingdom looks different from earthly kingdoms.

One of the differences is that rest is commanded. We hear in the first commandment: "Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy. (Exodus 20:8 NSV) Questions of what sabbath is and what it means to keep it holy could be a whole Bible study. But last week someone asked me what my sabbath looks like. For me, as a pastor, I don’t think of Sunday as my Sabbath because as joyful as this work is, I am working. But I try, as much as possible, to keep Fridays as my Sabbath day. A day away from my computer, email and meetings. I have a small confession: often I still write my sermon on that day because It is the day when I can find a quiet place where I can write. But just as often, I do yoga, I spend time outside, I read and I rest. I rest, confident the list of things to do will be there the next day. I rest aware that my body is not a machine. I rest knowing that it is okay to simply be present in the world and be grateful for my place in it.

Inviting us into life together, Jesus encourages this kind of Sabbath rest where we can rest and be renewed in body, mind and soul. It is meant to be a balm or salve, to help us heal and be strengthened for our life together in the kingdom of God.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for your Son Jesus

who frees us from sin

and shows us the way of wisdom,

revealing the goodness of life together.

Help us live with humility and gentleness and find rest for our souls.

We pray in the name of Jesus.

Amen.

Reformation Sunday

 John 8:31-36

As often as the Revised Common Lectionary dips in and out of John’s gospel during its three-year cycle of readings, I had never noticed that we never hear chapters 7 and 8 except when we read this gospel on Reformation Sunday.

Just as we do when a lectionary reading skips verses, it’s good practice to ask, “Why?” when whole chapters are left out. One answer is that the chapters are challenging theologically. Another reason is probably that there’s not a central event – no miracles, or as John calls them, signs. And a third reason is that the dialog between the religious leaders and Jesus in these verses is highly charged and has been misused to stoke anti-Semitism.[i] The danger signs are there, and we stay away. But those difficulties are precisely why we should try to understand the text clearly.

A couple of years ago here at Ascension we hosted an author and speaker who taught about Jewish festivals or celebrations; maybe you remember that in Judaism, the festivals are centered around important times in Israel’s history. One of those festivals, Sukkot (soo kowt) or the Festival of Booths or Tabernacles, is the setting for today’s text. “[Sukkot] was one of three pilgrimage festivals that brought Jews from all regions of Palestine to Jerusalem and the temple.” A fall festival, it celebrated the end of the harvest and God’s provision. During the weeklong celebration, the Jewish people also recalled God’s protection in the wilderness wanderings after they fled from Egypt and slavery under the Pharoah.[ii]

So that’s the setting for this dialog between Jesus and his audience, where he tells them, “If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples; 32 and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.” (8:31-32)

And that’s the backdrop against which they respond to him by saying, “We…have never been slaves to anyone. What do you mean by saying, ‘You will be made free?’” (8:33)

The people are there in Jerusalem, celebrating God’s deliverance of their ancestors from slavery but at the very same time, they deny that their ancestors have ever been slaves. And they reject the idea that they remain enslaved to sin even now.

A comparison can be made to a person living in active addiction. In the midst of active addiction, you may recognize other people who have drinking or drug problems, but you cannot see yourself as “one of those people.” Your habits aren’t as bad as theirs. It’s always preferable to notice and point out the faults of others and draw attention away from one’s own brokenness.[iii] In active addiction, you cannot see the destructive power that shapes your thoughts and controls your actions. You think you are managing your drinking or using.

And that’s why the very first step in a twelve-step recovery program is, “Admit you are powerless over your drug of choice- that your life has become unmanageable.”

When Jesus says, “everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin.” (8:34), he is calling us all to recognize our own powerlessness over sin, and our enslavement to it. “[We are] hardly free from sin; [we] are recovering sinners.[iv]

“We cannot through our own strength and understanding believe in the Lord, come to him, or serve him.”[v] Coming to God and serving God absolutely requires God’s action for us first.  

And that’s what Jesus promises here. God sees our sin and recognizes the ways we are enslaved even when we cannot. God rescues us and provides for us, just as God has done throughout the history of the people of God.

In Christ, we are set free, not only from sin but for relationship. In Christ, we become God’s children, and given a place in God’s household, and that place can never be taken away.

In God’s kingdom, there is a permanent place for you and for me.

And that is the Good News we celebrate this Reformation Sunday. Where human memory, egos and institutions may fail, God’s promise endures. God’s Holy Spirit is at work, redeeming us and our stories and awakening us to who we are as God’s people and the possibilities that God is creating in our midst.

Retired Bishop Leonard Bolick, who is now the acting executive director for the outdoor ministries in our ELCA region, recently shared an update about the ministries, and in it he named how difficult it can be to look at the past, to stand in the present, and to focus on the future.[vi] But that is what we are called to do: to know what God has done and is doing and to have confidence in what God will do, for us and for the world.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for seeing us clearly in our brokenness and forgiving us, even when we cannot see where we are hurting or the ways we hurt others.

Thank you for ever-forming and re-forming us as your people; for calling us to you and restoring us to be who you have created us to be.

And, thank you for giving us a place in your kingdom where you call us to participate in what you are doing in the world.

Help us to follow your Son, to listen to your Word, and be enlivened and sent forth by your Spirit.

Amen.

[i] Karoline M. Lewis. John (Fortress Biblical Preaching Commentaries) (p. 105). Fortress Press. Kindle Edition.

[ii] Lewis. 107.

[iii] Cynthia A. Jarvis; Elizabeth Johnson. Feasting on the Gospels--John, Volume 1: A Feasting on the Word Commentary. Westminster John Knox Press. Kindle Edition.

[iv] Jarvis.

[v] Rolf Jacobson. “Holy Spirit Reformation.” https://www.workingpreacher.org/dear-working-preacher/holy-spirit-reformation

[vi] The Reverend Leonard Bolick. https://vimeo.com/637231485

Reformation Sunday

John 8:31-36

On this Reformation Sunday, we celebrate the freedom that we have in faith,
the very same freedom that the apostles claimed even when they were imprisoned for witnessing to “all that Jesus did and taught from the beginning until the day he was taken up to heaven” (Acts 1:1-2), and, the very same freedom that the Augustinian monk Martin Luther seized when he criticized the Catholic Church for false teaching and abuses of power.

But, dear Church, dear Church, please hear me when I say that this “freedom” is not the same freedom that western culture, and especially our American culture, has embraced; the freedom we have through Jesus Christ is not unfettered individual choice.

It is not the freedom to construct and deliver explosives that can kill or maim, regardless of how much you dislike a person, resent their power and position, or disagree with their political viewpoints. 

And it is not the freedom to violently act out against a group of people in their place of worship and murder men and women who believe differently about who God is.

The freedom we have in faith is a freedom for the neighbor and the stranger.

Yesterday afternoon, after a man killed eleven people and injured others at Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh, these words were lifted up by colleagues:

Goodness is stronger than evil;
love is stronger than hate;
light is stronger than darkness;
life is stronger than death;
vict'ry is ours, vict'ry is ours,
through God who loves us.
Vict'ry is ours, vict'ry is ours,
through God who loves us.

Text from An African Prayer Book selected by Desmond Tutu, © 1995 by Desmond Tutu.

That hymn, “Goodness is Stronger than Evil” was written by Archbishop Desmond Tutu in 1995 when he was chairing the Truth and Reconciliation Commission that examined the atrocities committed by both pro- and anti-apartheid groups during the period of white minority rule in South Africa in the second half of the 20th century. Unlike Nelson Mandela who was jailed for 27 years for his leadership in the African National Congress, Tutu lived and worked in Johannesburg throughout the 70s and 80s advocating for change by building consensus in his community. Working from within the Anglican church first as the dean of the cathedral and then as Bishop he also worked in the secular world to address injustice and in 1984 he was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for his achievements.

Tutu’s witness embodies the freedom we have in faith that is not self-centered or motivated by self-interest but rooted in love for the neighbor and the stranger.
But all too often, we exercise our freedom at the expense of others and when we do that, we are not free at all, but captive to sin. 

In today’s gospel, Jesus is telling the Jewish leaders about this freedom that is found in faith when,
as if their ancestors had never fled Pharaoh’s Egypt,
or wandered in the wilderness for forty years,
or been exiled to Babylon and later persecuted by the Romans, they said, “Wait, we've never been slaves! We are descendants of Abraham.” (v. 33)

Comfortable and complacent now, they had forgotten where their very own grandfathers and great-grandfathers came from and how their own ancestors suffered. They were oblivious to the weight of sin they carried and to the ways they remained bound and shackled.

Jesus tries again, saying, “everyone who sins [which, by the way, is all of us] is a slave to sin.” (v. 34) And then, again he names that freedom from sin that is the promise received through faith.

The Prayer of the Day we said earlier in worship was inspired not by Desmond Tutu, but by another Anglican priest, a 17th century Archbishop of Canterbury named William Laud. In its words, we called on God, remembering that Jesus continues to free us from our sin.

In the petitions we asked for God’s promised redemption, publicly and institutionally, in the capital-c “Church”
where it is corrupt – as in the decades of sexual misconduct by Catholic priests that was first covered up and now is being addressed there and across denominations to ensure the safety of children and adults;

We asked for God’s promised redemption, where there is error – on Saturday, the family of Matthew Shepard, the young gay man who was killed in Wyoming twenty years ago in a hate crime, inurned his ashes at the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C. in a reversal of (again) the capital-c “Church"’s historic position rejecting LGBTQ people.

We asked for God’s provision for the Church and among its people where it is in need – not because we live in fear of what we do not have or cannot see, but because we trust God that will equip us for the ministry we are called into for this time and place.

And we asked for God to unify the world where it is divided – as Bishop Elizabeth Eaton wrote last night,

“We are reminded that hate-filled violence knows no bounds – whether a Sikh Temple in Oak Creek, [Wisconsin], a Christian church in Charleston, [South Carolina] or a Jewish synagogue in Pittsburgh [Pennsylvania]. As people of faith, we are bound together not only in our mourning, but also in our response.”

Today, we can respond by claiming our freedom in Christ to love the neighbor and stranger.
Many of you will remember Pastor Dee Liss who preached here in the summer; her husband Howard, one of the co-owners of Bicycles here in Shelby, attends Temple Beth El in Charlotte with his father, and last night, I asked their permission to write notes of encouragement to their congregation. So on your pews you have notes like this and you have pens. I ask you now to write words of encouragement and prayers for their community. If you’d like to just sign your name or our church’s name, that’s ok, too. I will send our notes to their rabbis this week.

Thank you.
Now, in a tradition that reaches back through generations, may we ask for God’s ever-reforming presence and power to accomplish what God has begun in us.

Let us pray… [1]
Almighty God, through the death of your Son you have destroyed sin and death. Through his resurrection you have restored innocence and eternal life. We who are delivered from the power of the devil may live in your kingdom. Give us grace that we may believe this with our whole heart. Enable us, always, to steadfastly praise and thank you in this faith, through your Son Jesus Christ, our Lord.
Amen.

[1] “Martin Luther’s Prayer for strengthened faith,” in Herbert F. Brokering. Luther’s Prayers.

15th Sunday after Pentecost

Psalm 15

It is, of course, Labor Day Weekend and the traditional end of summer just in case you missed the swell in the volume of cars on the roads, schoolbuses and back-to-school sales.  But with every ending there is a beginning. For our students and teachers, it’s the beginning of a new school year, but September often means the beginning of new schedules, routines or rhythms if only because summer is fading. Here at Ascension, while the long, green season of Ordinary Time continues through the end of November, today marks the beginning of a new season for our worship with a different musical setting for parts of our worship like the acclamation before you hear the gospel read, the dialogue during Holy Communion and for Lamb of God. We resumed singing the kyrie – our plea for God’s mercy – and the psalm and we returned to the gospel of Mark after five weeks of eating the bread of life in John’s Gospel.

So isn’t it fitting that today we hear Psalm 15, a psalm that probably functioned as an entrance rite for pilgrims arriving in  Jerusalem and entering the temple for worship?

As a liturgical starting point in worship, the psalm first poses a question to God, and then tells us how God answers.

The question that is asked is “Who shall live in God’s house?” In some translations it asks, who can dwell on God’s holy hill, dwell in God’s sanctuary or abide in God’s tent. It is a question about worship and everyday life and how we will “invite and welcome God’s nearness or presence” in our lives.[i]

Instead of standing guard or acting as a gatekeeper, here the psalmist is speaking to God’s people in the same way that Joshua addressed the Israelites, in Joshua Chapter 24. Joshua told them what the Lord had said and then challenged them,

“Now if you are unwilling to serve the LORD, choose this day whom you will serve, … but as for me and my household, we will serve the LORD." (Joshua 24:15)

The psalmist encourages us to answer,
as for me and my house,
as for us and this congregation,
we will be ones who dwell in God’s sanctuary because
we will be the kind of people God describes here.

In four short verses the psalmist describes how God’s faithful people live.

The psalm can be read as a summary of the laws given to Moses and recalled in Deuteronomy Chapter 4, the ones that would set the Israelites apart as a “wise and discerning people.” (Deut. 4:6) As modern psalmist and songwriter Richard Bruxvoort Colligan says, “Tell the truth. Live honestly. Be kind. Be generous.”[ii]

But these statutes and ordinances are about more than the Golden Rule or even preserving good order. This is who we are and how we are to live because we are God’s people in the world.

Each week at the beginning of our worship, in our corporate confession, we acknowledge our own sinfulness, so when God asks us to “walk blamelessly,” it seems like an impossible task. And it is, when we try to do it alone! But we believe that when our sin brings us to the cross, and we cannot redeem ourselves, God forgives us and redeems us. So, in that same rite, we also receive God’s forgiveness, and by the Holy Spirit, we are sanctified or made holy, so that we can walk blameless in God’s sight. Writer Nan Merrill describes this way of being as “[walking] with integrity and in harmony with [God’s] Word.”[iii]

Continuing, the psalmist describes God’s people as ones who “speak the truth.” In today’s Gospel Jesus criticizes the very religious because they are not being genuine, or truthful, saying,

"Isaiah prophesied rightly about you hypocrites, as it is written, 'This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me; (Mark 7:6 NRS)

Deceiving ourselves into thinking that we are imitating Jesus, we are quick to point fingers or draw our own lines between good and evil, and inevitably, place ourselves on the side of the “good.”

But as theologian Ted Peters writes, the truth is that, “when we draw lines between good and evil, curiously, God places the divine self on the evil side of our line.”[iv] So, here, again, we find ourselves in an impossible situation!

At least it seems impossible, until we stop trying on our own “to make ourselves look and feel like we belong on the good side.” [v] When we confess our arrogance and vanity, God takes us from where we really are — on the evil side of our line, blinded by our own sin — and forgives and redeems us.[vi]

Do you see how, in each verse, the psalmist corrects our propensity to rely on ourselves? We cannot be either blameless or honest, truth tellers until God transforms us. We cannot live as God’s people apart from God’s participation in our lives.

The remainder of the psalm shows us how God wants us to love others, with unwavering commitment and without either malice or deceit. Freed by God’s participation in our lives, we can participate fully in the lives of those around us. As Martin Luther writes in “Freedom of a Christian”:

[we] should be guided in all [our] works by …[a desire] to serve and benefit others in all that [we do], considering nothing except the need and the advantage of [our] neighbor.[vii]

While there are religious traditions that emphasize following God’s law and commandments so that you will not anger God or so that you may receive God’s blessing, reading this psalm through the lens of our Lutheran faith instructs us that living as God’s faithful people is a response to what we have first been given. In this time of new beginnings, serving our neighbors and communities, and placing the well-being of others ahead of our self-interest remind us that all life begins with God and all things spring forth from that holy beginning.

Let us pray…
Holy God,
We give you thanks for the forgiveness you give to each one of us, that we may walk blameless in your sight, not by our efforts, but by your grace.
We give you thanks for your infinite patience as we stumble and try to go it alone, returning to you with bruised hearts and egos.
Help us always worship and live in harmony with your Word.
Send us out into the world, empowered by Your Holy Spirit, to invite and welcome others into life with You.
We pray in the name of Your Son Jesus.
Amen.

[i] Craig A. Satterlee. Working Preacher Commentary. http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=619, accessed 9/1/2018.
[ii] Richard Bruxvoort Colligan, https://www.pulpitfiction.com/notes/epiphany4a?rq=psalm%2015, accessed 8/28/2018.
[iii] Nan C. Merrill. Psalms for Praying. 21.
[iv] Ted Peters. “Dirty Ethics for Bold Sinning.” Journal of Lutheran Ethics. Volume 15, Issue 8.
[v] ibid
[vi] ibid[vii] Martin Luther. “Freedom of a Christian.” Three Treatises. 302.

3rd Sunday after Pentecost

Mark 3:20-35 

In Mark’s gospel Jesus’ ministry begins immediately with healing, confronting powers and principalities and “encountering the power of unclean spirits and demon possession.”[i] And in response, in today’s Gospel reading, the Pharisees and scribes level “a charge against Jesus, accusing him of being in league with the ruler of demons.”[ii] His own family arrives on the scene, saying he is “beside himself” or “out of his mind.”

Responding to their accusations, Jesus takes seriously the realities of Satan and other demonic powers. His direct speech about Satan makes us uncomfortable because in our “secular age” we live in a largely “disenchanted world” where “talking about the Devil is more and more awkward” and more “like telling a story about ghosts, alien abduction, or Bigfoot.” [iii]

Whatever our understanding of these powers are, the reality that Jesus names here is that we are captive “to the powers of evil signified by “Satan,” powers that continue to seek our allegiance” even now.[iv] “The proper name “Satan” comes from the Hebrew … word that simply means adversary.”…Biblically, Satan names that which is working against God and God’s kingdom in the world.”[v] These are the powers that “capture us and cause us to hurt ourselves, to hurt others, and to hurt God.”[vi]

And, captive to these powers, in our communities and neighborhoods, and even within our congregations, we become the “house divided” that Jesus references as we continue to label people as “out of their minds” and in direct opposition to the Gospel — the Good News of Jesus Christ — we demonize, “other” and de-humanize the ones who stand outside: the refugee, the immigrant, the person with brown or black skin; the convict, the poor, and the homeless; those who are differently abled and those whose mental health is compromised.

Nearly four years after comedian and actor Robin Williams’ death by suicide, suicide returned to the news this week followings the deaths of designer Kate Spade and chef Anthony Bourdain.  In addition to having resources and celebrity, all three of these beloved sons and daughters of God had the unfortunate distinction of belonging to the group of people – those between 45 to 64 years old –  who have the highest suicide rate (19.21%) in our country. But the next highest group affected is those 75 and older at 18.59%.[vii] And, across age groups, veterans account for 22% of suicides. No one is immune. 

And yet, despite its prevalence,
despite the fact that each year more than 44,000 Americans die by suicide, and, on average, in our state, one person dies by suicide every six hours, mental health conversations remain difficult and conditions like anxiety, bipolar, depression, and psychosis remain highly stigmatized.  [viii]

The first words of Mark’s Gospel say, “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” (Mark 1:1) but in his book Jesus and the Disinherited Howard Thurman wrote, “Christianity is only good news, if it’s good news for “those who stand, at a moment in human history, with their backs against the wall.”[ix]

Thurman’s words provoke us to recognize the ways in which too often today, people affected by mental illness still live with their backs against the wall.

And it’s not only “those people,” the ones we don’t know. It is us, it is our children and our sisters and brothers.

Fully 1 in 5 adults experience mental health conditions every year.
1 in 5.And because few of us grew up in settings where mental health was openly discussed, we think, “I should be happy.” “I just need to be more positive.” “I just need to work this out for myself.” And when we don’t find that way forward all on our own, without medication, professional help or counseling, we become more frustrated, more disappointed and more critical of ourselves. [x]We churn in an eddy of dis-ease, shame and mis-understanding, with voices echoing in our heads:

“I am unforgiveable.”
“God punishes and condemns me.”
And “I have no purpose.”

And those are lies. Those are the very evil lies that Jesus names when he “[exposes] our captivity to the “strong men” of our lives.”[xi]

Today’s gospel demonstrates that, truly, “we are enslaved to oppressive spiritual forces …[and] God is acting in Jesus as [our] liberator, emancipator and rescuer.”[xii] 

The Good News that Jesus brings is the assurance of grace that says,

“I am forgivable.”
“God loves me.”
And “God has a purpose for me.”

And it is in those moments when we are freed to “experience the gracious and stunning love of God.”[xiii]

It is really important to say out loud here that people who complete their deaths by suicide are not outside of God’s grace; their disease tragically altered their lives and brought about their premature deaths, but they are not separated from God’s love.

A clergy friend shared the story of a congregation where a row of eight headstones sat at one end of their cemetery. Each of the markers was for a person who had completed their death by suicide. At the time of their burials, the graves had sat beyond the fence around the cemetery; they were considered outside the grace of God at their deaths. Since then, compassion had prevailed and the fence had been moved, so that today, they stand united with the other saints who were laid to rest there.

Maybe you remember those days. Thankfully, similar changes have happened in the majority of Christian traditions, and today, Christians who complete their deaths by suicide are interred or inurned with the same rites of committal and commendation as anyone else.

For each of us here, confident of God’s mercy made new every morning, we can live this Gospel’s Good News out loud in our lives and in our congregation, neighborhoods and communities.

If you are struggling, know you are loved. You matter. You are wildly loved. You are not alone. Stay with us. Please. You brain chemistry is broken, not you. Ask for help. Seek counseling. Work with a doctor to manage the right dose and kind of medication. Freedom awaits. But hear me when I say, if you cannot do any of those things, it doesn’t change the facts: You matter. You are wildly loved. You are not alone. Stay with us. Please.[xiv]

If you are healthy today — and it’s always today because mental health isn’t static and set, it changes and depression can come roaring back into a person’s life without warning — if you are healthy today, learn the number for the Suicide Prevention Hotline. Learn about Mental Health First Aid and QPR trainings that will equip you to respond to others whose mental health is affected. Advocate for comprehensive access to healthcare. Learn about warning signs of suicidal thoughts and behaviors and learn how to listen non-judgmentally to people when they are hurting. Learn and share information about the resources that are available here in Shelby and Cleveland County, and walk alongside people who are hurting, without trying to “fix” them. [xv]

Following Jesus, we are freed to open our imaginations to see the world that Jesus sees, where, as Paul writes in Romans 8:21, “we obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.”

No longer a house divided, we are freed to become a community where we practice care and love and reconciliation, working out the messiness of our lives face to face with real people. That is who the Church is called to be in this hurting world.

Pray with me…
Healing and life-giving God,
Thank you for your Son Jesus who defeats all the powers of evil that persist in this world;
Thank you for your abundant and healing mercy and grace.
Give us courage to confess our dependence on you and name our sin and willfulness when we try to “go it alone.”
Strengthen us by your Holy Spirit to follow Jesus into the world with Your love.
Amen.

[i] https://www.enterthebible.org/newtestament.aspx?rid=3, accessed 6/9/2018.
[ii] https://www.enterthebible.org/newtestament.aspx?rid=3, accessed 6/9/2018.
[iii] Richard Beck. Reviving Old Scratch. xv.
[iv] Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 3: Pentecost and Season after Pentecost 1 (Propers 3-16), (Feasting on the Word: Year B volume) (Kindle Location 4329). Presbyterian Publishing Corporation. Kindle Edition.
[v] Beck, 8.
[vi] Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 3: Pentecost and Season after Pentecost 1 (Propers 3-16), Kindle Locations 4330-4331.
[vii] 45-54 19.72%, 55 – 64 18.71%, 75-83 18.2%; 85+ 18.98% according to https://afsp.org/about-suicide/suicide-statistics/, accessed 6/9/2018.
[viii] https://afsp.org/about-suicide/state-fact-sheets/#North-Carolina, accessed 6/9/2018.
[ix] Howard Thurman. Jesus and the Disinherited, 11.
[x] Adapted from Rev. Keith Spencer.
[xi] Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 3: Pentecost and Season after Pentecost 1 (Propers 3-16), Kindle Location 4337.
[xii] Beck, 44-46.
[xiii] Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 3: Pentecost and Season after Pentecost 1 (Propers 3-16), Kindle Locations 4335-4336.
[xiv] Adapted from Rev. Jason Chestnut (@crazy pastor)
[xv] Adapted from Rev. Keith Spencer.

Maundy Thursday

Mark 12:22-42

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father and from our LORD Jesus Christ.

I don’t know about you but many of my favorite memories feature food. I often tell a story about my grandmother, who didn’t bake, except for meringues, but she always had pantry shelves filled with Pepperidge Farm cookies. I remember too, as a child, going to my friend’s Polish Catholic parish where we ate cabbage rolls, potatoes and sweet pastries. I remember Sunday brunch with hearts of palm and dinners where roast beast was carved at the table. I remember my mother’s paella and coq au vin and eating barbecue and Brunswick stew from Creedmoor. But these food memories aren’t just from childhood.

Two years ago, a group of folks here in Shelby created a community Thanksgiving meal.
Inviting people to come and eat,
they took donations of turkeys and side dishes, sweet tea and desserts;
they prayed before the meal to bless the gifts of food and presence that had been given;
they broke bread, opened chafing dishes of mashed potatoes and green beans, uncovered pie plates and tins of cookies;
and gave the bounty to the neighbors who gathered.

Somehow gathering around a table for a meal fills more than our bellies and nourishes our bodies; it contents our hearts and strengthens us for what lies ahead.

Tonight, on Maundy Thursday, named for the mandatum, or command, that Jesus gives his disciples in John’s Gospel “to love one another as I have loved you,” we inhabit another part of the story from the night of Jesus’ arrest — the meal. In John’s Gospel, it is not a Passover meal, but in the synoptic gospels – Mark, Matthew and Luke – it is, and that’s significant because the Passover meal is not just about sated appetites, full bellies and nourished bodies; it is an act of remembering the mighty act of God’s salvation — God’s rescue —from death and slavery.

The people of Israel were enslaved by the king of Egypt, and when he would not free them, God promised judgment against the people there; the Israelites were told to mark their doorposts with the blood of a slaughtered lamb and the blood would be a sign of the covenant they had with God, and God would pass over their households and save them. (Exodus 12) After his own people suffered God’s judgment, Pharaoh let the Israelites go and they fled Egypt but throughout their journey to the Holy Land, God accompanied them.

In the same way, the meal we share at the Table every time we celebrate Holy Communion together remembers the mighty act of God’s salvation in our lives.

In his Small Catechism, Martin Luther explains, “The words ‘given for you’ and ‘shed for you’ for the forgiveness of sins show us that the forgiveness of sin, life and salvation are given to us ….”[i] “The treasure is opened and placed …upon the table [for everyone.]”[ii]And he reminds us that it is not our eating and drinking that do it, but “the bread and wine set within God’s Word and bound to it.”[iii]

Daily, we are in bondage to sin and cannot free ourselves. But, unfailingly, God rescues us, delivering us “from sin, death and the devil.”[iv]

Again, hear Martin Luther’s teaching, “There are so many hindrances and attacks of the devil and the world that we often grow weary and faint at times even stumble…the devil is a furious enemy;…when he cannot rout us by force, he sneaks and skulks at every turn, trying all kinds of tricks, and does not stop until he has finally worn us out….For times like these, …the Lord’s Supper is given to bring us new strength and refreshment. ”[v]

On this Maundy Thursday night, like the disciples often did, we want to deny what is going to happen to Jesus. We want to remember the scene the way Leonardo Da Vinci painted it: an upper room with a festive table overflowing with food and wine where Jesus and his disciples gathered. We want the garden to be filled with birds’ night song and the sweet aroma of fresh blooms, instead of the shouts of soldiers and the pungent smell of burial spices.

But tonight, especially, we cannot deny Jesus’ fate. Gathered here tonight, we are bearing witness not to a farewell party, but to the last meal of a condemned man, because we cannot get to the joy of Easter without first seeing Jesus stripped and mocked and finally, executed.

As darkness falls, we join the whole company of disciples around the world and across time who come to this Table, confessing our sin and naming our need for God, confident that God gives us “food for the soul [ that] nourishes and strengthens [us for what lies ahead.]”[vi]

Thanks be to God.

[i] Martin Luther, “Small Catechism,” Book of Concord. 362.
[ii] Martin Luther. “Large Catechism,” Book of Concord. 470.
[iii] ibid 467.
[iv] ibid 459
[v] ibid 469.
[vi] ibid