Good Grief
Lent 5A
March 29, 2020
Grace, Waseca, MN
John 11.1-45
I was called to the hospital because Dorothy was dying. Dorothy was an elderly woman with medical problems, so it was no surprise. The surprise was that she’d held on as long as she had. Gathered in the room were her daughter, Laurie, son-in-law Tim, and granddaughters Angie and Jenna. We said our prayers together and our goodbyes to Dorothy. It was a good death as deaths go. Dorothy was surrounded by family, she wasn’t in any pain, and everyone had the opportunity to say what needed to be said before she died. I was prepared for her death and I was even prepared for the family’s grief. But I was not prepared for the grief I felt as I experienced theirs. I had a very close relationship with Dorothy’s family and I grieved for them.
In our Gospel reading for today, Jesus finally makes it to Lazarus’ tomb, four days late we are told, a detail John includes that assures us Lazarus is really dead. On the way, Jesus has endured tongue lashings from Lazarus’ sisters, Martha and Mary who berate his tardiness in coming. But we also hear an amazing confession from Martha, who believes that Jesus can do whatever he asks. Soon after, we also hear Jesus’ claim, “I am the resurrection and the life” and we expect something special to happen. What we don’t expect is Jesus’ breakdown at the tomb, his weeping and even his anger.
In John’s Gospel, Jesus is almost incomprehensible at times. With some of his statements sh leaves his disciples and us going, “Huh?” We see a little of that here as Jesus talks about hours of light and darkness, a favorite theme in John. But we also see Jesus at his most human, weeping and grieving. But we wonder: why Jesus is weeping if he knows he is going to raise Lazarus, and why is he so angry? The best explanation I’ve seen is that first, like me with Dorothy’s family, Jesus grieves for them. He cares deeply for Martha and Mary, and he grieves at their grief. Second and related to the first, Jesus is angry about the powers of sin, death and the devil that hold sway over the world. He is angry at the forces that keep people from the abundant life that God intends for us.
Truth be told, I like the almost incomprehensible Jesus because he stretches my thinking about who God is and how God works in our world. But I also like the human Jesus who meets us in our grief and walks with us through it. Jesus doesn’t deny the reality of suffering and death. Rather, Jesus meets it and even enters it. In fact, if you read just a bit farther in chapter 11, you see that Jesus sets some serious wheels in motion. By going to Judea and raising Lazarus, Jesus forces the hand of the religious leaders. They begin to plot his death, which we know will be successful.
We are in a very uncertain time as we deal with COVID-19, and we wonder where Jesus is in the midst of all this. Perhaps, as it has been suggested by some, Lent is an appropriate time for the pandemic as if forces us to think about our mortality and what’s important to us. But even more so, the story of Lazarus (and Martha and Mary!) reminds of us of God’s faithfulness in the midst of our most difficult times, because Jesus is the resurrection and the life. God be with you, my sisters and brothers, in the days ahead. Know that God has entered the chaos and uncertainty. God is with you always. Amen.
You can also view the sermon in its entirety here.
Sunday, March 29, 2020
Sunday, March 15, 2020
"Staying Power" - Sermon for the Third Sunday in Lent
Staying Power
Lent 3A
March 15, 2020
Grace, Waseca MN
John 4.5-42
So, when the Samaritans came to him, they asked him to stay with them; and the stayed there two days.
I’ve mentioned before how at 38 years old, we packed up our household and moved to seminary at Gettysburg, PA. Even though we didn’t live on the seminary campus—by design—I was on campus quite a bit. However, if I wasn’t in class I was studying in the library. One day between classes and studying, I met the seminary president, Dr. Darold Beekman, walking along the sidewalk. To my surprise, we stopped and chatted. Although I don’t remember the details, I was astonished for two reasons. First, that he would stop to talk to me, a lowly student (in my eyes). Besides, he couldn’t see very well and had “coke bottles” for glasses. And second, that when ed did stop he both knew and remembered so much about me.
I was reminded of that encounter as I worked with our Gospel reading about another encounter almost 2,000 years earlier, that of the Samaritan woman and Jesus at the well. We are in our second of four readings of John, my favorite Gospel. We are reminded that John prefers lengthy stories with involved and deep dialogues between Jesus and others to the shorter narratives we find in the other Gospels. We saw the first instance of that last week in Jesus’ encounter with the religious leader, Nicodemus. Here again in this story we have typical features of John’s Gospel. We see misunderstandings between Jesus and his conversation partner, particularly from the use of double meanings. The woman doesn’t understand about this water that Jesus is offering, mainly because of the play on words between living water and flowing water.
There are additional Johannine features that are prominent today as well. For example, believing is always a verb in the Gospel, never a noun. Believing is active and dynamic. Then we have the first of the “I am” sayings, where Jesus equates himself with God. “I am” was the name that God used when Moses asked God who it was that was sending him back into Egypt. It’s what eventually gets Jesus killed. Furthermore, though it’s easy to miss, there is the use of meno in the Greek: to stay, rest, remain or abide. So, when the Samaritans came to him, they asked him to stay with them; and the stayed there two days. Meno is a big word in John. You can see this unpacked in Ch. 15 where Jesus, as the true vine, invites us to abide in him as he abides in us. But today, we get a glimpse of this mutual abiding in the exchange Jesus has with the Samaritan woman.
It’s a remarkable exchange, given that Jews and Samaritans were bitter enemies and that it was unheard of for a man to speak to a woman, let alone a Samaritan woman. Samaritans were considered “half-breeds” (pardon the term) by the Jews. By consorting with a Samaritan woman, Jesus would have become “unclean” and unable to worship in the temple. Yet, Jesus doesn’t let an ancient version of “social distancing” and the threat of contamination stop him. Jesus refuses to let the social, political and religious convention of the day from abiding with her and giving the opportunity for her to abide with him. As he does so often, Jesus meets her where she is and takes her deeper, giving her living water.
In essence, Jesus tells the Samaritan woman—and the Samaritan townspeople— “you matter.” And for Jesus, that’s more than mere lip service;.How he gives himself to the woman and the townspeople is a foretaste of how he will give himself on the cross for the sake of the whole world, the world the Samaritans represent. I think that there’s a part of that Samaritan woman in all of us, a part that we hide and don’t think worthy of Jesus’ time and effort. But, Jesus invites us to put down our jars, stay with him as he stays with us, and receive the living water only he can give.
Dr. Beekman was living water to me that day at seminary. He was abiding with me, as Jesus, telling me that I matter. So, as you receive the living water of Jesus today, I invite you to share that with others this week. Amen.
Lent 3A
March 15, 2020
Grace, Waseca MN
John 4.5-42
So, when the Samaritans came to him, they asked him to stay with them; and the stayed there two days.
I’ve mentioned before how at 38 years old, we packed up our household and moved to seminary at Gettysburg, PA. Even though we didn’t live on the seminary campus—by design—I was on campus quite a bit. However, if I wasn’t in class I was studying in the library. One day between classes and studying, I met the seminary president, Dr. Darold Beekman, walking along the sidewalk. To my surprise, we stopped and chatted. Although I don’t remember the details, I was astonished for two reasons. First, that he would stop to talk to me, a lowly student (in my eyes). Besides, he couldn’t see very well and had “coke bottles” for glasses. And second, that when ed did stop he both knew and remembered so much about me.
I was reminded of that encounter as I worked with our Gospel reading about another encounter almost 2,000 years earlier, that of the Samaritan woman and Jesus at the well. We are in our second of four readings of John, my favorite Gospel. We are reminded that John prefers lengthy stories with involved and deep dialogues between Jesus and others to the shorter narratives we find in the other Gospels. We saw the first instance of that last week in Jesus’ encounter with the religious leader, Nicodemus. Here again in this story we have typical features of John’s Gospel. We see misunderstandings between Jesus and his conversation partner, particularly from the use of double meanings. The woman doesn’t understand about this water that Jesus is offering, mainly because of the play on words between living water and flowing water.
There are additional Johannine features that are prominent today as well. For example, believing is always a verb in the Gospel, never a noun. Believing is active and dynamic. Then we have the first of the “I am” sayings, where Jesus equates himself with God. “I am” was the name that God used when Moses asked God who it was that was sending him back into Egypt. It’s what eventually gets Jesus killed. Furthermore, though it’s easy to miss, there is the use of meno in the Greek: to stay, rest, remain or abide. So, when the Samaritans came to him, they asked him to stay with them; and the stayed there two days. Meno is a big word in John. You can see this unpacked in Ch. 15 where Jesus, as the true vine, invites us to abide in him as he abides in us. But today, we get a glimpse of this mutual abiding in the exchange Jesus has with the Samaritan woman.
It’s a remarkable exchange, given that Jews and Samaritans were bitter enemies and that it was unheard of for a man to speak to a woman, let alone a Samaritan woman. Samaritans were considered “half-breeds” (pardon the term) by the Jews. By consorting with a Samaritan woman, Jesus would have become “unclean” and unable to worship in the temple. Yet, Jesus doesn’t let an ancient version of “social distancing” and the threat of contamination stop him. Jesus refuses to let the social, political and religious convention of the day from abiding with her and giving the opportunity for her to abide with him. As he does so often, Jesus meets her where she is and takes her deeper, giving her living water.
In essence, Jesus tells the Samaritan woman—and the Samaritan townspeople— “you matter.” And for Jesus, that’s more than mere lip service;.How he gives himself to the woman and the townspeople is a foretaste of how he will give himself on the cross for the sake of the whole world, the world the Samaritans represent. I think that there’s a part of that Samaritan woman in all of us, a part that we hide and don’t think worthy of Jesus’ time and effort. But, Jesus invites us to put down our jars, stay with him as he stays with us, and receive the living water only he can give.
Dr. Beekman was living water to me that day at seminary. He was abiding with me, as Jesus, telling me that I matter. So, as you receive the living water of Jesus today, I invite you to share that with others this week. Amen.
Sunday, March 8, 2020
"Dying to Live" - Sermon for the Second Sunday in Lent
Dying to Live
Lent 2A
March 8, 2020
Grace, Waseca, MN
John 3.1-17; Genesis 12.1-4a
Change is hard. Even when change is good, change is hard. For example, a job promotion may mean moving and changing everything. You are asked to leave who and what you know behind for the unknown and unfamiliar. Then, with loss comes grief and the uncertainty of what lies ahead, even when what’s past is awful. An abused spouse finds it difficult to leave an unhealthy marriage or an alcoholic a destructive life. Knowing that the change you are making is the right thing doesn’t always make it easier.
In our Old Testament and Gospel readings for today, both Abraham and Nicodemus are being pushed to make significant changes in their lives. Abraham is asked to leave everything behind to settle a new land based on an unlikely promise of a son. It seems like a fool’s errand. Nicodemus, on the other hand, is a religious leader and part of the establishment. Interestingly, he comes to Jesus under the cover of darkness. He has what we call in John’s Gospel a “signs faith.” Signs faith is believing in Jesus based on the signs Jesus has done yet superficial and inadequate for the relationship of new life. For both Nicodemus and Abraham, change is hard.
Today we have the first of four readings in John, my favorite Gospel. It has been said of this Gospel that it is like a river, both shallow enough for children to wade in and deep enough for elephants to swim. It’s that simple and that difficult all at the same time. The story of Nicodemus is a great example, with John 3.16, the “gospel in a nutshell,” as Martin Luther says. But it also includes Jesus’ confusing but characteristic play on words about being born anew or born from above. And then there is the play on words for wind, breath and spirit as well. Finally, there are several polarities in John, including the themes of light and darkness, and life and death,
Nicodemus comes under the cover of darkness, perhaps so as not to be seen by his fellow religious leaders but John’s message is clear: Nicodemus is “in the dark” nonetheless. In their conversation, Jesus challenges Nicodemus’ understanding of God’s working in the world. He invites Nicodemus to go deeper and to let go of what he thinks he knows about God. Then Nicodemus fades away from today’s story, perhaps uncertain what Jesus is asking of him, although he does show up again later on in the Gospel. Meanwhile, as Nicodemus leaves the stage, he also leaves us to wonder what Jesus is asking us to let go of.
Our Southeastern Minnesota Synod Bishop Regina Hassanally sent out Lenten greetings via video last week. I think her comments can help us think more deeply about our journey from death to life in Lent.
As you continue your Lenten journey, I invite you to ponder where Jesus is inviting you into a deeper understanding of your life with him, about what may need to die to give you life. I know that I have identified a number of areas that I want to continue working on. As your interim pastor, I also invite you to think corporately as a church as well as individually. I want you to ask what at Grace needs to die so that God would bring about new life, where Grace needs to be born again or born from above. Either way, remember the good news: God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world but so that the world might be saved through him. Amen.
For an audio version of this message, please click here.
Lent 2A
March 8, 2020
Grace, Waseca, MN
John 3.1-17; Genesis 12.1-4a
Change is hard. Even when change is good, change is hard. For example, a job promotion may mean moving and changing everything. You are asked to leave who and what you know behind for the unknown and unfamiliar. Then, with loss comes grief and the uncertainty of what lies ahead, even when what’s past is awful. An abused spouse finds it difficult to leave an unhealthy marriage or an alcoholic a destructive life. Knowing that the change you are making is the right thing doesn’t always make it easier.
In our Old Testament and Gospel readings for today, both Abraham and Nicodemus are being pushed to make significant changes in their lives. Abraham is asked to leave everything behind to settle a new land based on an unlikely promise of a son. It seems like a fool’s errand. Nicodemus, on the other hand, is a religious leader and part of the establishment. Interestingly, he comes to Jesus under the cover of darkness. He has what we call in John’s Gospel a “signs faith.” Signs faith is believing in Jesus based on the signs Jesus has done yet superficial and inadequate for the relationship of new life. For both Nicodemus and Abraham, change is hard.
Today we have the first of four readings in John, my favorite Gospel. It has been said of this Gospel that it is like a river, both shallow enough for children to wade in and deep enough for elephants to swim. It’s that simple and that difficult all at the same time. The story of Nicodemus is a great example, with John 3.16, the “gospel in a nutshell,” as Martin Luther says. But it also includes Jesus’ confusing but characteristic play on words about being born anew or born from above. And then there is the play on words for wind, breath and spirit as well. Finally, there are several polarities in John, including the themes of light and darkness, and life and death,
Nicodemus comes under the cover of darkness, perhaps so as not to be seen by his fellow religious leaders but John’s message is clear: Nicodemus is “in the dark” nonetheless. In their conversation, Jesus challenges Nicodemus’ understanding of God’s working in the world. He invites Nicodemus to go deeper and to let go of what he thinks he knows about God. Then Nicodemus fades away from today’s story, perhaps uncertain what Jesus is asking of him, although he does show up again later on in the Gospel. Meanwhile, as Nicodemus leaves the stage, he also leaves us to wonder what Jesus is asking us to let go of.
Our Southeastern Minnesota Synod Bishop Regina Hassanally sent out Lenten greetings via video last week. I think her comments can help us think more deeply about our journey from death to life in Lent.
As you continue your Lenten journey, I invite you to ponder where Jesus is inviting you into a deeper understanding of your life with him, about what may need to die to give you life. I know that I have identified a number of areas that I want to continue working on. As your interim pastor, I also invite you to think corporately as a church as well as individually. I want you to ask what at Grace needs to die so that God would bring about new life, where Grace needs to be born again or born from above. Either way, remember the good news: God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world but so that the world might be saved through him. Amen.
For an audio version of this message, please click here.
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