Messages, Meditations, and Musings on the Life of Faith by Rev. Dr. Scott E. Olson, Interim Pastor, Christ Lutheran Church, Preston, MN

Sunday, June 25, 2017

"Loving Power" - Sermon for the Third Sunday after Pentecost

Loving Power
Pentecost 3 – Summer Series
June 25, 2017
Sibley Park, Mankato, MN
Esther 5.1-14; 6.1-14

For Father’s Day last Sunday, I told my daughters and Cindy that I’d like to see the new “Wonder Woman” movie. The trailers looked interesting and the reviews were good, but as the father of two daughters, I am very interested in women in strong leadership roles. Indeed, we all liked the film very much; it was well done, well acted, and had a good message. I won’t spoil the film, but there is one aspect of the movie that I want to mention. First a little context: Wonder Woman is Diana a Princess of the mythical Amazon tribe, warrior women who constantly train for a battle they hope never comes. They live on a hidden island in the Mediterranean for reasons made clearer in the film.

However, a number of events prod Diana to go out into the world to end not only World War I, but all war as well. Before she leaves (and throughout her growing up), she is told on a number of occasions that she is far more powerful than she knows. Indeed, she is strong, athletic and has some serious warrior skills, not to mention awesome tools. Yet, although her powers are displayed quite publicly throughout the film, it is her private exercise of power that matters the most.

Today, we are at a critical point in the story of Esther as she also discovers just how powerful she is. A reminder of the story to this point: Esther has become queen of the Persians, but there has been a complication in this fairy tale. Haman, the king’s right-hand man, has bribed King Ahasuerus to wipe out the Jewish people in Persia, thought Haman doesn’t tell the king it’s the Jews he wants gone. Mordecai, Esther’s uncle and only living relative, has convinced her to use her position as queen to save their people, saying “Perhaps you have come to the royal dignity for just such as time as this.” It’s a very dangerous move because anyone who comes before the king without being called risks immediate death.

But, as we see in today’s reading, the hardest part, gaining the king’s ear, turns out to be the easiest. It turns out that all Esther has to do is ask. The king grants her an audience and whatever she wants, “even to the half of my kingdom.” Yet, Esther knows something about the king and how he functions. She invites him and Haman to eat at a banquet she has already prepared. Even then after softening him up (and getting Haman off balance), she asks for another feast, which we’ll hear about next week. As we’ll see then, Esther cannot fight a battle, she can’t fight Haman, and she certainly can’t fight the king. What she can do is lovingly influence the one she is closest to, her husband the king.

As my friend and colleague, Pr. Collette Broady Grund pointed out this week, although Esther seems to be a public figure, her real power and influence is with people who love her. The same was true for Wonder Woman; although she is very powerful, the effect she has on others is even more so. She constantly rallies people to her side. This is something that we’d do well to remember as we look around our broken and hurting world, wondering how we can make a difference. Most of us look for the public places to exercise power for change, such as mass demonstrations and protests or leaders in authority. But our real power and influence is with the people we know, the people we love and those who love us. As we have seen from our story, like Esther (and Wonder Woman) this makes us incredibly vulnerable and it is one of the riskiest things we can do. Yet, all we have to do is ask.

One last note: Esther doesn’t see everything that goes on in her world; she only sees a piece of the picture. God is working in other parts of the story that Esther doesn’t know about, though she doesn’t know it. Even so, she acts in faith. So, too, we may only see one piece of the picture, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do anything. In fact, it’s just the opposite; we trust that God in whom we live and move and have our being continues to work in our lives though we may not see it.

Like Esther and Wonder Woman, we are more powerful than we think, because we have a powerful God who emptied himself of that power and lovingly took on human flesh. Jesus had some serious power, calming storms and seas, healing people, and feeding multitudes. Yet, it was his influence and vulnerability with a handful of men and women that is saving the world as he gave himself for others so we might do the same. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Sunday, June 18, 2017

"For Such a Time as This" - Sermon for the Second Sunday after Pentecost

For Such a Time as This
Sermon for Pentecost 2 – Summer Series
June 18, 2017
Grace, Mankato, MN
Esther 3.1-11; 4.1-17

On October 31, 1517, Martin Luther nailed the 95 Theses, or articles of debate to the door of the castle church in Wittenberg, Germany. Four and a half years later, in April 1521, Luther appeared before the Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire, Charles V, to defend what he had taught and written. At the end of the appearance he made his infamous speech in which he declared his conscience was bound to the Word of God. Luther ended by saying, “Thus I cannot and will not recant, because acting against one's conscience is neither safe nor sound. God help me. Amen.”

A gutsy move, his stand against the emperor and pope ultimately resulted in a death sentence, putting his life in mortal danger. Though not alone, Luther was largely credited with igniting the Reformation bringing sweeping changes to church and society. Indeed, if Luther lit the fire, others before him had prepared the kindling and still others added fuel to the fire and fanned the flames.

It seems there are pivotal points in history where unlikely people step into the breach. Luther was certainly one; Esther is another. Last week we learned how this Jewish woman becomes queen to the Persian king Ahasuerus. Before we proceed with today’s reading, some background and context are in order. The Babylonians—modern day Iraq—had conquered the Israelites, destroyed the temple, and carried most of the population into exile. As is often the case, another bully came around and the Babylonians have likewise been conquered by the Persians (modern day Iran). We know that when this happened some of the Jewish exiles returned to Israel but many stayed having already built new lives.

At any rate, Esther is an orphan and the only family Esther has is her uncle Mordecai who, in the passage prior to today’s has uncovered an assassination plot against the king, earning him fleeting favor with the king. One last item needs to be mentioned: the book of Esther is unique in that God is never explicitly mentioned, but seems to be lurking in the background, if not offstage somewhere.

This week, the plot thickens as the king’s right hand man, Haman, conspires to exterminate the Jews. (Where have we heard that story before? It seems to be the perennial plight of the Jewish people.) Haman does so because Mordecai refuses to bow down before him. The book of Esther doesn’t say why, but we do know from the book of Daniel that Jews would not bow down before anyone who isn’t God. (An interesting side note: Haman himself was a foreigner, an Agagite. The Agagites were a sub-group of the Amalekites, whom we learn from the Exodus story, are a historical enemy of the Israelites.)

Well, Mordecai somehow learns of the edict, tells his fellow Jews, and they all go into mourning. Esther learns of it and, through an exchange with Mordecai is persuaded to appear before the king on behalf of her people, in spite of danger to her. Mordecai convinces her to do this by saying this momentous line, “Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this.”

The story of Esther and Mordecai proposes some provocative questions about the life of faith for us. Though perhaps not as momentous as a Jewish extermination pogrom, there are crucial times that occur in our lives. Each one of us is faced with “such a time as this” when God asks us to step out in faith for one reason or another. Certainly, there is no lack of opportunities these days to speak on behalf of those who can’t speak for themselves. On May 29, two men on an Oregon train discerned “such a time as this” and interceded on behalf of two Muslim women. They were not as fortunate as Luther or Esther (as we’ll learn next week), but they determined that it was “their time.”

We are able to step out in faith because of the One who came in the fullness of time for us. Jesus took on human flesh, spoke truth to the Roman and religious powers and gave himself up. This is not an easy faith to which we have been called, but it is an important and meaningful one, and there are a number of opportunities to do so. For example, a couple of you have stepped up to help with the emergency homeless shelter so desperately needed in our community this winter; I hope more of you will do the same, for “such a time as this.”

Through our baptisms into the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, we have been born again for a time such as this, to speak the truth in love as Esther, Mordecai, Luther and others have done before us. And we can only do so through God’s strength and love in Christ, the one who is present in all time. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Sunday, June 11, 2017

"God’s Steadfast Love" - Sermon for Holy Trinity Sunday

God’s Steadfast Love
Holy Trinity Sunday – Narrative Lectionary 3 (Summer)
June 11, 2017
Redeemer, Good Thunder, MN
Psalm 100

One Sunday morning, a wife went to wake her husband saying to him, “It’s time to get up for church.” The husband moaned and complained. “Why do I have to go to church? Those people are nasty, to me and to each other. I don’t want to go.” The wife patiently explained to her husband: “First of all, it’s what we do on Sundays. We go to church. Second of all, you’re the pastor.”

Now, I don’t normally tell jokes in my sermons, unless they are real-life and the jokes are on me. But, aside from the fact that I really like this one, it illustrates a number of things about worship and Psalm 100 I want to touch on today. (By the way, lest you think otherwise, the people I serve are warm and gracious; it’s a blessing to serve them.)

Psalm 100 is the favorite of psalm of one of my favorite church musicians, Patricia Lundeen. Patricia and I served together at Central Lutheran Church in Winona. But it’s also become a bit of a joke between us because of the familiar phrase, “make a joyful noise to the Lord.” Making a joyful noise is what I do when I sing. I am tonally impaired; I change keys early and often in the midst of songs. I also kid that I love doing nursing home services because the hard of hearing think I’m a great singer. So I can sing as loudly as a I care to sing.

Even so, this week I learned another way to understand the phrase “joyful noise.” A blogger rephrased it as “noisy giggles,” the fun that children have in church. Yet, it’s not just for children; the ability to laugh appropriately in worship can be wonderful for all of us.

I think this is important because we don’t always want to be in worship or feel like praising God. One of the reasons I find it hard to worship is something of an occupational hazard: it’s hard for me to lead and “do” worship at the same time. But I think another reason is that I’m wired in a way that connects with God differently. Author Gary Thomas has identified at least nine “sacred pathways” to God, only one of which is worship. One of the primary ways I connect with God is on an intellectual basis, so I love theology and Bible Study. And, though the other elements of worship are important, for me it’s all about the sermon. So, when I’m preaching the closest I can get to worship is preaching to me. For others, of course, it’s totally different.

Old Testament scholar Walter Brueggemann has developed a helpful framework for the Psalms. He says there are three kinds of Psalms: Psalms of Orientation (which orient us properly to God); Psalms of Disorientation (Psalms of lament for times of disorienting trouble); and Psalms of Reorientation (that bring us back to God in a new attitude.) Clearly Psalm 100 is designed to orient us to God, but it’s important for another reason. The call to worship God draws us outside of ourselves, reminding us that we are part of something bigger. It reminds us that, in spite of how awful life might be, we still praise God. As someone has noted, Psalm 100 and others like it are defiant praise.

When we gather for worship and praise God we are reminded again that we are God’s people. We hear again how God’s steadfast love—I love that phrase—endures forever. And all joking aside, in spite of the fact that we may not always be at our best (pastors included), we come together as God’s people, assured that we belong, reminded that there is at least one place in our world that we are valued . So, make some noisy giggles, my sisters and brothers, for God loves you steadfastly always. Amen.

Sunday, June 4, 2017

"More than Pentecost" - Sermon for Pentecost Sunday

More than Pentecost
Pentecost Sunday – Narrative Lectionary 3
June 4, 2017
Grace, Mankato, MN
Acts 2.1-4; Galatians 4.1-7

There’s a fable about five blind men trying to describe an elephant, but each has a hold of only one part of the animal. The first blind man who has the tail insists an elephant is like a rope. The second blind man, holding a leg, says the elephant is like a tree. A third blind man, touching the side of the elephant says it’s like a wall. The fourth, grasping an ear, declares it to be like a leaf and the fifth, holding onto the trunk, says they are all wrong; an elephant is much like a snake. The moral of the story is that you need all parts to see the whole and a corollary is that if you only have one view of something, your understanding of that something is skewed.

Perhaps the same can be said of the Holy Spirit: if our only view of the Spirit is based on the Pentecost event then we are apt to describe the Holy Spirit as something that stirs things up and, perhaps, more than a bit scary. I think that the Holy Spirit is scary, but perhaps not in the way we think. The Holy Spirit is more than Pentecost.

There’s another fable—from Aesop, perhaps—that comes to mind when I think of the Holy Spirit. It involves a wager between the wind and sun regarding which of them is more powerful. As they are arguing, they see a traveler on the road below and they bet who can make him remove his coat. The wind goes first and blows as violently as it can, but the more it blows, the more tightly the traveler clings to his coat. The sun, on the other hand, gently shines its warming rays and the man soon removes his coat, thereby winning the bet.

The wind in the fable could be the Spirit of Pentecost and the sun the Spirit of other places in scripture. This is the Holy Spirit of John that is gently breathed upon the disciples by Jesus on the evening of the resurrection. This is the Spirit who appears in dreams and visions of the now-apostles in Acts, guiding them into the uncertain future.

It is true that the Holy Spirit pushes the apostles (and us) into places we may not wish to go, but it’s more, far more, than that. First and foremost, the Holy Spirit makes the life of the risen Christ present with gathered believers. In fact, in making the risen Christ present, the Holy Spirit forms us as a community of believers. Two weeks ago, I said that the main point of Paul’s letter to the Galatians was belonging. We replaced “justify” with “belong” and “justification” with “belonging” to make some sense of Paul’s argument. In today’s reading, he uses the metaphor of family to drive home his point: once we didn’t belong, but because of the Holy Spirit’s work we are children of the Father just as much as Jesus is God’s Son.

When I say that the Holy Spirit is more than Pentecost, I’ve indicated there’s more to it than chaotic, unpredictable wind. But there’s another sense to the “more” metaphor that I’ve hinted: the Holy Spirit at Pentecost is not “one and done” phenomenon. The Holy Spirit was present at creation, blowing over the waters and bringing order out of chaos. The Holy Spirit has “spoken through the prophets” as we confess each week. And, as Luther wrote in the Small Catechism, “…calls, gathers, and enlightens the Church on earth and preserves it in the one, true, faith.” In other words, the Holy Spirit is still active. Perhaps that’s the scary part, that the Holy Spirit is still active, and might blow us into scary places. Yet, that’s also comforting, because God doesn’t send us places alone; the Holy Spirit is always with us.

I’ve seen the Holy Spirit at work in some marvelously scary, unpredictable and wonderful ways in you. I’m amazed at how you have stepped up under the gentle prodding of the Spirit. I’ve been overwhelmed by those who have sacrificed countless hours to serve God’s mission and ministry here, especially through the long process of discerning how we can renovate our building to serve that mission. But I’ve also seen that same Spirit through the robust and respectful conversation we’ve had around those renovations. We may not always see the Holy Spirit, or we may not see all of it, but the Spirit of Christ is here. That’s no fable. Amen.