17th Sunday after Pentecost

Mark 9:30-37

Every couple of years a new gospel comes out. The Bible has four – Matthew, Mark, Luke and John – but a variety of others have made their way onto bookshelves. You can read the Gospel according to the Peanuts or Dr. Seuss, Starbucks or Star Wars. The best of these illuminate how theology – the ways we talk about and understand God –manifests in pop culture.

Reading today’s gospel in Mark I recalled a song by Kenny Rogers called “The Greatest”. Maybe you know it. It tells the story of boy playing backyard baseball. He throws every pitch and swings at every ball. Every time the boy gets ready pitch, he tells himself, “I am the greatest player of them all” and every time he misses. But at the end of the song, after the third strike, he says, “I am the greatest that is a fact/ But even I didn't know I could pitch like that.”

While most of us hear the story of a boy striking out, the way Kenny tells it, the boy pitched a perfect inning - 3 up, 3 down – or maybe even a no hitter. Who is the greatest depends a lot on who’s defining what it means to be the greatest.

In the gospel reading, Jesus and his disciples are on the road and, teaching them, Jesus tells them a second time that he will be betrayed and killed, and he will be resurrected.

Mark tells us the disciples didn’t understand – they couldn’t understand – what Jesus was saying. A suffering Messiah was such a contrast to the images of Messiah that they had learned. Instead of a Messiah who would be victorious over their enemies, Jesus told them that he would die in the hands of his enemies.

And Mark says they were afraid to ask Jesus what he meant. They weren’t afraid of their teacher, but his words frightened them. His truth-telling threatened their sense of security and safety, their ability to protect themselves against the world, and against death. It exposed their fears and vulnerabilities.

Afraid to reveal their own lack of understanding, afraid they were the only ones who didn’t get it, afraid of being left out, the disciples started bickering, arguing about who among them was the greatest.

Like the disciples, we are afraid of what we don’t know. We are afraid of uncertainty and afraid of silence and rush to fill it with words, even when those words are arguments.

And watching the disciples, I wonder how many of us would confess to Jesus what things we argue about? In worship we remember that Jesus came into the world to love each one of us and to forgive us that we might all be restored to relationship with God. But when we leave our worship spaces we bicker and argue about who’s right or wrong and which decisions are faithful or unfaithful.

The gospel reminds us that even though the disciples didn’t answer him when he asked what they had argued about, Jesus knew.

Jesus knows how easily we are distracted from the gospel and yet, he doesn’t scold us or punish us.

Instead, he continues teaching, saying,

“Whoever wants to be first must be last and servant of all.”

Jesus reminds us to pay attention to what matters. And like Kenny, he reminds us that being the greatest might look different from what we expect.

Being the greatest isn’t going to look like awards or prizes, accolades or promotions. Instead, it’s going to look like helping when no one notices. It’s going to look like making space for those who do not have any status. It’s going to look like loving the person who isn’t useful or beneficial to you.

Because the God we come to know in Jesus is not a transactional God. This God is the One who sent Jesus to love every one of us and wants us to love everybody we meet.

This is the Way of Jesus Christ that we follow. It doesn’t follow the rules of the world we live in. It is a way of suffering and rejection, and when we follow Jesus, we must know that we cannot insulate ourselves from it or hide within the safety of our church sanctuaries. Wherever we find ourselves, we are called to welcome the least and be servants to them.

 Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

we give thanks that you know our hearts and minds and love us still.

Thank you for your grace and mercy when we are afraid and lack understanding.

Thank you for your Son Jesus coming into the world that all may know your abundant love.

Show us how to be servants and to show love for every person in our words and our actions.

We pray in Jesus’ name.

Amen.

15th Sunday after Pentecost

 Mark 7:24-37

The pandemic has been compared to a foot race that began as a sprint and then turned into a 5K. And then we realized we were in a marathon, and now it has become an Ironman, a race where participants don’t just run of 26 miles but also swim 2.4 miles and then bike another 112. It’s exhausting.

I imagine this is the kind of weariness Jesus was feeling when he left Galilee where he had been arguing with religious leaders. He just wanted to find a place where he could go unnoticed. But Mark tells us that wasn’t possible. Word of the healings and miracles that Jesus had done had reached even the northern region of Tyre on the Mediterranean – the place we know today as Lebanon. And that’s where the Syrian woman, a Gentile not a Jew, found Jesus.

Like the synagogue leader Jairus in Mark 5 who fell at Jesus’ feet and begged repeatedly for his daughter to be made well, this Gentile woman bows down to Jesus and begs him to cast the demon out of her daughter.

But this time we don’t witness Jesus’ compassion. He doesn’t go with the woman; instead, he rebukes her, telling her, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs.” (Mark 7:27 NRS)

Anytime we diminish a person and call them names, we are failing to see that person as a wholly beloved child of God, with all the dignity and worth that we each have. Hearing Jesus use this insult and turn his back on someone in need is uncomfortable.

Many have tried to soften his words or find a way to excuse him, but there really isn’t any acceptable explanation. His words are ugly, and he says them to make the woman go away.

Ironically, Jesus has just been teaching about how evil comes from our hearts when he abruptly dismisses this woman. We can’t know why he spoke the way he did –whether it was because she was a woman or a Gentile or if there was some other reason, but he provides a real-life example of what happens when our hearts are left unguarded. Our heartless words and actions inflict pain.

Thankfully the story doesn’t end there. The woman doesn’t leave. She doesn’t let Jesus off the hook.

She has heard about the powerful acts he has done in his ministry and, because she has heard, she believes she and her daughter are included in God’s kingdom. She doesn’t argue that her daughter should come before the Jewish people, but that God’s abundance is great enough for all who are in need. She is willing to receive a smaller portion of God’s mercy and to believe it is enough.

The woman’s humility and willingness demonstrate her faith that God’s gracious actions are for her too.

And something in her words opens Jesus’ heart, and he is able to hear what this woman is saying. After he listens, he tells her that she will find that the demon has left her daughter. (Mark 7:29)

One lesson we learn here is from the woman. Like the psalmists who lament to God, crying out because they are suffering and then calling on God to be the God they have witnessed in history, she has witnessed what God has done in others’ lives, so she calls on Jesus to share the abundance that God has provided because she knows he can. God’s love and mercy is for every one of us.

The second lesson is one we learn from Jesus. Their conversation shows the importance of listening to those we think don’t belong. We all belong to God and we all have value and worth in God’s sight. Jesus shows we can learn from those who come from outside our familiar traditions and places.

Listening well is a spiritual practice.

To listen well to another person’s story, without judgment or commentary, without advice-giving.

To listen for the feelings and themes of life that person is sharing.

To listen for faith, for the words of hope, healing and opportunity.

To listen for the “story of the soul” – for how the pieces fit together.

This spiritual listening is a practice of “listening for our connectedness, our common ground, the deepest realities of which we all are a part.”

When we listen well, we recognize we are all members of one family – regardless of our differences– and one community. [i]

And it is in that listening that we open ourselves to transformation. The obvious transformation in this gospel is that the daughter’s demon is cast out, but Jesus too is changed through this encounter with the woman.

We may be as uncomfortable with a Jesus who can change as with one who slanders, but this gospel witnesses to us how God’s Word works as it reaches people who desperately need to know they are not hopeless. It witnesses to us how we need to guard our hearts so that we won’t harden them against others. It witnesses to us that it is possible to change how we think about people we have dismissed or turned away from, and how God can work in us all to God’s glory.

And that is Good News.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for your Son Jesus who although without sin experienced all that we do in life, and shows us the way to new life, full of grace and mercy.

Thank you for showing up in people who are different from us and teaching us to listen well to their stories, recognizing how we are all one human family, created and loved by you.

Forgive us when we are hard hearted.

Transform us by your Spirit that our ears and eyes will be opened to Your presence in our lives.

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

Amen.

---

[i] Craig Rennebohm. Souls in the Hands of a Tender God: Stories of the Search for Home and Healing on the Streets. 78-79.

14th Sunday after Pentecost

Mark 7

Have you ever had an argument with someone and figured out that the thing you’re arguing about isn’t the real problem?

That’s what’s going on in our Gospel today. The Pharisees and scribes or teachers from Jerusalem are asking Jesus why his disciples don’t wash their hands before they eat. But their questions aren’t really about handwashing.

Their questions are about identity. The Pharisees understood their Jewish identity – their religious faith – within a particular framework of beliefs and traditions and Jesus’ disciples weren’t following the same script they were following. That had to mean that either the disciples were wrong, or they were wrong; their very identity as God’s people was at stake.

From the beginning, the Law that was given to Moses provided the structure for life with God and with the people around us, but over time, the Israelites, and truth be told, Christians, have added to the Law, establishing human practices and traditions that are rooted in the commandments we have from God.

Sometimes those additions are plainly manipulative. In the sixteenth century when the Church began to sell indulgences to pay for the cathedral, they were promising people that the price you paid for the indulgences bought your salvation or that of a beloved. Luther railed against church authorities because they had reduced divine grace to a transaction.

Other times, we make additions begin from a place of heartfelt concern. Because it is important not to break the commandments – and consequently break or turn away from relationship with God – we add a fence or a hedge for protection around the commandments.

Take the third commandment that says, “Remember the sabbath day, and keep it holy.” In the South especially, “blue laws” were a fence around the commandment, prohibiting some activities on Sundays to encourage the public observance of Sunday as a Christian Sabbath. In some traditions, observing the Sabbath still means ceasing all work, including cooking or using tools because those activities could be considered “work.” But those restrictions are someone else’s interpretation of the commandment from God, not the commandment itself.

Where we get into real trouble is when our human traditions become disconnected from God’s own commands. That’s what has happened in our gospel text.

There is no biblical law about washing hands before eating, but there is a requirement that priests wash hands and feet before ministering at the altar (Exodus 30:17–21). This was understood to include washing hands before eating holy meat from the sacrifices. The Pharisees took seriously the command of Exodus 19:6, “You shall be for me a priestly kingdom and a holy nation.” They argued that this meant that all Israelites should be as holy as priests, and that consequently all Jews should wash their hands before eating.[i]

The established traditions of the elders weren’t inherently bad. But the more alienated the man-made traditions became from the Word of God, the easier it was for them to become weapons to use against people, to divide people and to turn people away.

And that’s why Jesus answers the way he does when he is questioned about his disciples’ behavior. The Pharisees and scribes are sweating the small stuff. They are paying attention to the dirt under a person’s fingernails and not to their heart. And Jesus reminds them that it isn’t the things that we encounter in the world that defile us, but what is inside us.

In the psalm for today, the psalmist writes,

The ones who abide in God’s tent or dwell on God’s holy hill, are those who walk blamelessly, and do what is right, and speak the truth from their heart; (15:2)

That doesn’t mean we get to stand on that holy hill and point fingers at all those other people who don’t get it right. Instead, it calls us to take an inventory of where our own hearts are:

are we near to God or far? 

It doesn’t matter how much spit and polish you use or how put together you appear if your heart is turned away from God.

It doesn’t matter how many Bible verses you know if they remain words on a page instead of being written on your heart.

It doesn’t matter how often you show up in church if it’s only to complete a checklist or a transaction instead of being in relationship with the God who created you and calls you loved and forgiven.

Inside each one of us Jesus sees a beloved child of God. And as children of God, we are called to live not according to human traditions or by the evil intentions Jesus names in our gospel text, but according to God’s commands.

Luther’s explanation of the first article of the Apostles’ Creed tells us:

God protects [us] against all danger and shields and preserves [us] from all evil. And all this is done out of pure, fatherly, and divine goodness and mercy, without any merit or worthiness of mine at all! For all of this [we] owe it to God to thank and praise, serve and obey him.

When we find our identity in God as God’s children, our response is obedience to God, and that - not human traditions or empty praise - is what God desires from us.

Let us pray…

Holy God,

Thank you for giving us your law to structure our lives according to your Word. Thank you for protecting us against evil.

Thank you that in your abundant grace and mercy you see us as your beloved children.

Help us remember that you desire to be in relationship with us more than you ever want us empty words or meaningless actions, and enable us by your Spirit to follow your Son Jesus and be faithful and obedient.

We pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.

---

[i] Bartlett, David L.; Taylor, Barbara Brown. Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 4: Season after Pentecost 2 (Propers 17-Reign of Christ) (Feasting on the Word: Year B volume) (Kindle Locations 943-947). Presbyterian Publishing Corporation. Kindle Edition.

 

13th Sunday after Pentecost

John 6:56-69 

Last week we heard the beginning of what’s known as the Bread of Life discourse and witnessed the feeding of the 5,000. And today’s gospel is its conclusion, which means we’ve missed some thirty verses, so a short summary may be helpful.

After crowds were fed, Jesus and the disciples departed and crossed the sea to Capernaum, where the crowds found him again. There Jesus said,

48 I am the bread of life. 49 Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. 50 This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die.  51 I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.  (John 6:48-51 NRS)

And immediately grumbling and murmuring began. Hearing them, Jesus continued his teaching and that’s where we rejoin the story.

At this point, the crowds aren’t the only ones murmuring and grumbling though. John tells us that Jesus’ own disciples are there, too. They say, “This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?” (v. 60) And when Jesus hears them, he asks, “"Does this offend you? (John 6:61 NRS)”

What is the teaching that is so difficult and offensive, not only to the people in the crowd who may have been hearing Jesus for the first time, but even for those who had committed to following him?

The teaching that is so difficult is that Jesus has come from heaven.

The cause for scandal is in verse 62: “Then what if you were to see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before?”  (John 6:62 NRS)

Because if Jesus came down from heaven and ascends there again,

it means that the gospel is true.

It means he truly is the Son of God.

It means that just as John stated in the first verses of his gospel, in the beginning, Jesus was with God and was God. (John 1:1-2 NRS)[i]

John invites all of us, hearing his gospel today, to answer for ourselves how we will respond to this truth.

People in the crowd that day probably had a host of reasons to be there. Maybe they followed Jesus that day because they had nothing better to do. Maybe they showed up because they needed something – healing or food or simply not to be alone. Maybe they were curious about this teacher and preacher and were afraid of missing out.

Others there were disciples; certainly, some were the seventy who were sent out ahead of Jesus to towns and other places. (Luke 10) But we don’t know the full number of those who counted themselves as disciples at this point.

We also know from John that the twelve apostles were there.

So you had outsiders and insiders and the most intimate friends all together. And faced with this difficult teaching — that God truly sent God’s own Son to us for the sake of the world — people made choices.

For some, perhaps their curiosity was satisfied so they moved onto the next big attraction or returned home to the lives they had been leading, unchanged.

But John also tells us that “many of [Jesus’] disciples turned back and no longer went about with him.” (v. 66) They had spent some time following Jesus, but at this point, it was too difficult. Their faith was shaken, and they rejected Him. 

Seeing these responses, Jesus asks the twelve apostles,

“Do you also wish to go away?”

And that’s when we get Peter’s confession in John. Like we hear in Mark when Peter declares, “You are the Messiah.” (Mark 8:29) and in Matthew “You are the Son of the living God.” (Matthew 16:16), here Peter says, “You are God’s Holy One.” The only one to whom we can go. The only one who has the words of eternal life.

Importantly, in John, the confession rests on the cornerstone that is Peter’s belief.

In John’s Gospel,

remember that believing is the same as knowing Jesus

and that knowing Jesus means being in relationship with Jesus.

But John also shows us the consequences of not believing and deliberately walking away from God’s presence and participation in our lives. It is Judas’ unbelief that sets him apart and leaves him vulnerable to evil. He does not believe Jesus is who he says he is. Maybe he thinks Jesus is a good teacher or even a prophet. Maybe he thinks he’s a magician. But he doesn’t believe he is God. And in his unbelief, he breaks relationship with Jesus and betrays him.

So again, John invites us to answer for ourselves how we will respond to Jesus.

John gives us three possible answers. There are believers or knowers; there are those who reject Jesus and walk away, and then there are those who intentionally betray him.

I admit I want to say I’m with the apostles every time. But sometimes it is hard to believe. And sometimes it is hard to be Jesus to other people. And often, this teaching makes me uncomfortable because I want to make room for those who are undecided, but in this passage, John doesn’t give us that option. We have to choose.

Thankfully, just as Jesus says about Judas in verses 70 and 71, the first choice is God’s. Every day, every time, God chooses us. And then we face the same choice that these followers faced; we have to choose whether to believe and live in relationship, or not. We have to choose whether to commit fully to following Jesus with every part of our being and in every aspect of our lives.

In our Lutheran tradition, we teach and believe that even when we choose relationship, we cannot be faithful apart from God and the Holy Spirit working in us to make it possible. We depend wholly on God’s grace to enable us to respond at all. So we pray honestly with the man in Mark 9, “I believe; help my unbelief!”

When Jesus asks, “Do you also wish to go away?” he knows it’s a hard teaching and yet, we are encouraged to follow the twelve and follow Jesus, even as others walk away or make other choices.

Let us pray…

Holy God,

Thank you for sending Your Son Jesus to us know You and choosing to give us your love and forgiveness.

Show us how to follow faithfully and choose life with Jesus every time.

By your Spirit, enliven us that our lives would witness to your abundant grace.

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

[i] Karoline Lewis. John. 97.

Love Mercy - "Gathering & Gospelling" Week 6

John 6:5-14

Because we’ve been in our worship series, we’ve been hearing different texts each week, but in the Revised Common Lectionary, the gospel readings for five weeks from July 25 through next Sunday August 25 are all from Chapter 6 in the Gospel of John. This body of readings is known as the Bread of Life discourse and it begins with the reading we have today.

In his gospel, John doesn’t record miracles. Instead, the events where Jesus does the unexpected are called ‘signs’ because they point to who Jesus is. The description of what happens isn’t as important as what it says about the character of Jesus.

So, as I listened this week again to this familiar text, I tried to remember that it isn’t about a math problem – the multiplication of loaves and fish – and instead asked, “What does the sign point to?”

First, the text connects us back to Israel’s Exodus experience of being in the wilderness and receiving God’s manna. Manna was “like coriander seed, white, and the taste of it was like wafers made with honey. (Exodus 16:31 NRS)”. The Israelites complained to Moses while they were in the wilderness and God heard their complaints and provided them with manna that fell down and covered the ground like frost each day and they were instructed to gather only what they needed. There was enough for each person and nothing was wasted.

The second connection, as we hear Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks and gave the food to the crowd, is to the meal that we gather for here at the Lord’s Table. That day, Jesus made an offering of bread and fish, but in the Eucharist or Holy Communion, Jesus makes an offering of his very own body and blood to sustain us in our life as disciples and as children of God.

The third connection is one that I hadn’t noticed before. Verse 10 says,

“Jesus said, “Get the people to sit down.” Now the men numbered about five thousand, but there was plenty of grass there for them to find a seat.”

It feels like a throw-away verse. Why does it matter where people sat?

But then, I think about when we gather for a meal in the fellowship hall, and there might be thirty or even fifty of us. The best way I know to get everyone’s attention is to call out, “The Lord be with you!” It seems like in the crowd John describes that every time you’d get one group to sit down, another likely would wander off.

And exactly where can 5,000 people sit with plenty of space? To give you an idea, Keeter Stadium, where the American Legion ball games are happening this weekend, seats 5,200. And anyone who has sat in that stadium when it’s full knows it can’t be described as ‘spacious’ when every seat is filled.

So, we know this was a big crowd and a big space. The men numbered five thousand, and the synoptic gospels - Matthew, Mark and Luke- say there were women and children there too. It would have been chaotic and messy, and there was probably some grumbling happening.

But with authority, Jesus and the disciples get everyone seated on the grass.

So do you know where else in Scripture we hear about God and grass or pasture?

It’s in the psalms.

Psalm 23 says,

“The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want. ² He makes me lie down in green pastures;” (Psalm 23:1-2 NRS);

Psalm 95 says,

“For he is our God, and we are the people of his pasture, and the sheep of his hand.”  (Psalm 95:7 NRS); and

Psalm 100 says,

“Know that the LORD is God. It is he that made us, and we are his; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. (Psalm 100:3 NRS)

The shepherd made the people lie down in green pastures and Jesus sat the people down in the carpet of green grass. (The Message)[i]

Jesus is our Shepherd, Lord and King.

In John’s gospel we recognize that the same Shepherd who leads us through valleys of death is the one who leads us to places where we can rest and be fed. 

That same Shepherd provides us with our portion – just what we need – and sustains us for the journey of faith. Following Jesus, we believe that God provides abundantly for us, without any fear of scarcity. We may be tempted like Philip or Andrew, to focus on what we cannot do, how difficult a situation seems or what our limits are, but God reminds us that God is at work in the world, and discipleship isn’t about fixing people or things. It’s about being present and trusting God to be the One who we see all through Scripture. Steadfast and loving. Generous and merciful.

And then we are freed to see what else God is doing and how we can participate, how we can help others feel welcome and know that same blessed assurance of God’s abundant love.

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for your Son Jesus who restores us to life with you,

and through whom we know your abundant love and mercy.

Help us watch for signs of your presence in the world and ask how we can participate in what you are doing.

Fill us with your Spirit and send us into the world to love and serve.

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

Amen.

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[i] Karoline Lewis discussing the Bread of Life discourse on the Pulpit Fiction Podcast

Confession and Authenticity in Baptism - "Gathering and Gospelling" Week 5

Hebrews 4:14-16

Ephesians 4:1-6, 11-13

If you were baptized as an infant or small child, you may not remember the actual event of your baptism. But perhaps you remember your confirmation, the opportunity you were given to affirm the promises made on your behalf by your parents. Others of you grew up in traditions where you were baptized later in childhood or even as adults. And still others may not yet have been baptized.

What we all have in common is that God is at work in our lives.

The author of Hebrews reminds us that we have a God who sees our weaknesses and the ways we are tested, and still invites us to come and ask for the mercy and help that God is so ready to give us.[i]

Martin Luther once wrote”

This life, therefore, is not godliness but the process of becoming godly, not health but getting well, not being but becoming, not rest but exercise. We are not now what we shall be, but we are on the way. The process is not yet finished by it is actively going on. This is not the goal but the right road. At present everything does not gleam and sparkle, but everything is being cleaned.

“Everything does not gleam and sparkle, but everything is being cleaned.”

Paul, imprisoned in Rome, certainly knew what the underbelly of life looked like. In Acts we’re told he “breathed threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord.” (Acts 9:1 NRS) Once a zealot who violently persecuted followers of Jesus, he converted and became an evangelist to the Gentiles, sharing the Good News of Jesus Christ for the sake of the whole world.

When in his letter to the Ephesians, Paul urges Christians to “live a life worthy of the calling you have received” he is recognizing the “already but not yet” quality of a life of discipleship.

We see this again and again in Scripture.

Rahab, a prostitute in the Canaanite city of Jericho, hides the spies who had been sent to the city by Joshua. (Joshua 2) When the king of Jericho demands that she turn the spies over to him, she denies knowing where they are and helps them escape, telling them, “The LORD your God is indeed God in heaven above and on earth below.” (Joshua 2:11 NRS) Rahab is one of only four women listed in Matthew’s genealogy of Jesus. (Matthew 1)

David, a shepherd and the youngest of his brothers, defeats Goliath and becomes king of Israel. But he is far from perfect. He rapes Bathsheba and then kills her husband Uriah so that his actions won’t be discovered. He has to flea Jerusalem when his own son Absalom tries to overthrow him. And yet, it’s in the psalms attributed to David that we hear the consoling words of Psalm 86:

For you, O Lord, are good and forgiving, abounding in steadfast love to all who call on you. (Ps. 86:5 NRS)

Peter, a Galilean fisherman, is the model disciple who never quite does the right thing. He rushes to rebuke Jesus when Jesus tells the disciples about the suffering he will undergo. (Mark 8:32) Later he asks Jesus if they can stay on the mountaintop with Elijah and Moses during the transfiguration. (Mark 9:5) And then, he insists he will not deny Jesus but does so, three times. (Mark 14:54) And yet, Peter is also the one who is called the rock upon whom the Church is built. (Matt. 16:18)

When we remember our baptism, we remember that God creates us and knows all of our imperfections, temptations and brokenness. And in God’s steadfast love, God forgives us again and again, so that our sin does not separate us from God.

In the sacrament of Holy Baptism, the ordinary element of water is joined with God’s command[ii] and the promise that “You are a child of God, sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever.” [iii]

Baptism is not the goal, but the beginning of a life of faith where we are nourished along the way by God’s love and God’s word.

Right now, because of COVID, we do not have water in our font, but the font is not the only place where we find water to remember our baptism. I encourage you this week to remember your baptism each time you wash your hands, get caught in the rain, or splash in a puddle.  And as you remember your baptism, remember too Luther’s own words that “Everything does not gleam and sparkle, but everything is being cleaned.”

Let us pray…

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for making us your children.

Help us remember we are yours, remembering our baptism and striving to live a life worthy of you.

Thank you for your forgiveness when we make mistakes or fall short.

By your Spirit strengthen us in times of suffering and temptation and encourage us to take the help and mercy you offer.

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

Amen.

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[i] Eugene Peterson, The Message.

[ii] Matthew 28:19 NRS

[iii] Small Catechism, 79.

Commitment - "Gathering and Gospelling" Week 4

Numbers 6:22-26 

Isaiah 6:6-8

Have you ever been in a group where there’s a task to be assigned and no one volunteers? Silently each person is thinking, “Choose somebody else.”

In cartoons, everybody else takes a step back making it look like one person volunteered by stepping forward. Among friends, maybe you touch your finger to your nose, and the last one to catch on takes on the task. Maybe you draw straws. Rarely do we raise our hand and say, “Here I am, send me.

But in today’s text, when God asks aloud, “Who will I send?”, that is exactly how the prophet Isaiah responds.

Isaiah witnessed God’s glory and experienced God’s forgiveness. His sins were blotted out, and now he was ready to be dispatched on God’s behalf, to speak words of judgment and hope to God’s people.

 Often when we respond, “Choose somebody else.” we think we have good reasons:

I don’t have time.
I don’t know enough.
I don’t have experience.
I can’t do as good a job as Jack or Julie.

But when we are focused only on what we already know or already can do, we are making God small, forgetting that God is at work in and through us.

Isaiah wasn’t under any illusions that he was the perfect messenger, or that his words would always be welcomed. But he remained willing.

That is what God asks.

God creates each one of us, gives each of us unique gifts, and expects us to show God’s mercy and love to others. God knows us from the moment our inward parts were knit together in our mothers’ wombs to today, and God knows our sin but forgives us and loves us anyway. In relationship with God, we are asked to respond, “Yes, Lord, Here I am – send me!”

I never know exactly what saying “Yes” to God looks like, and I expect it looks different for each one of us.

Maybe God is placing a burden on you to reach out to neighbors here in our community. To care for children. To comfort the sick. Maybe you are being curious about vocation and listening for how you might serve God in your life. Maybe you are being called to a deeper commitment to prayer. Maybe you have gifts that are going unused or even undiscovered.

Isaiah invites us to listen and be alert for the moments in our lives where God is breaking into our routines. Pay attention to how God may be calling you to do something that challenge you.

Importantly, when we say, “Yes” to God, we are not alone.

First, God is present with us and goes with us. The Aaronic blessing from the Numbers text is one we often hear as our benediction before we are sent from worship into the world. The text provides a pattern for God’s movement, through us and into the world. As the psalmist writes, God keeps us from all evil, and keeps our going out and our coming in. (Ps. 121:7-8). God provides clarity and revelation as God shines God’s face upon us. (Ps. 67) and God graciously extends mercy to us. (Ps 123:2-3)

And, second, the community of faith surrounds us too. As we listen more closely for God’s calling on our lives, let’s be in conversation about what we are hearing from God. Let’s commit to thinking more about how God is moving here at Ascension and in our lives together. Where could God be calling us, beyond Sunday morning worship?

I don’t know what this “Yes” will look like either, but let’s discover where, together, you, and I, can say “Here I am, Lord; send me!”

Let us pray.

Good and gracious God,

Thank you for keeping us near to you that we may know your light and love in our lives;

Thank you for you for not dealing with us according to our sin but with undeserved forgiveness;

Thank you for your abundant love and compassion.

Give us courage to respond to your presence in our lives and say, “Here am I, send me” trusting you will accompany us and equip us.

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

Amen.