Killing Jesus - Sermon for the Fourth Sunday after Epiphany Year C

Killing Jesus

Epiphany 4C

January 30, 2022

Good Shepherd, Wells, MN

Luke 4.21-30

When they heard this, all the synagogue were filled with rage. They got up and drove him out of town … so they might hurl him off the cliff.

They wanted to kill Jesus. It’s only the fourth chapter of the Gospel and they want to kill Jesus. He’s barely begun his ministry and it seemed to be going well, but now they want to kill him. Presumably, they want to kill him because they didn’t like the message he proclaimed. Was that your reaction last week when we heard the first part of this passage? Jesus is in his hometown of Nazareth and is worshiping in the synagogue. He is handed the scroll of the prophet Isaiah and reads words meant to comfort the exiles in Babylon. I asked you to hold in awareness whatever your response was to Jesus’ words from the prophet. They were words that spoke against systems of injustice that both make and keep people poor, that oppress and keep people oppressed. They were words that advocated for a Jubilee, a massive redistribution of wealth ordered in the Old Testament but rarely carried out.

In today’s reading, the second part, Jesus throws gasoline on a gathering amazed yet skeptical hometown folk. If family are those people who knew you before you became the person you are today, and don’t let you forget, the hometown crowd of Nazareth sees only Joseph’s son, not the Son of God. And when Jesus widens the circle of who is in God’s favor, it becomes too much for them. Never mind the fact that the circle still includes them, but they have a hard time seeing that and only see red. They wanted to kill Jesus because Jesus wouldn’t conform to their expectations of what and who he should be.

It would be easy for us to say that we would never do that to Jesus, except I think that we (I) do more than we realize. To paraphrase the poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning, “How do I kill thee? Let me count the ways.” Generally speaking, I think that we kill Jesus every time we make Jesus into someone of our agenda, not his. Conservative Christians kill Jesus by making him into a superpatriot, vengeful warrior wrapped in the American flag. Liberal Christians take whatever social agenda they have and slap Jesus on top of it, calling it good. Both scour the Scriptures for whatever Jesus they want to support their particular point of view.

Pastors are not immune. Here again, it’s easy to point fingers to escape the brutal reality that I need to admit: I find ways to kill Jesus, too. I kill Jesus when I keep Jesus up in my head and don’t grant him access to my heart. And when I do grant him access to my heart, it’s only a small portion of it and I don’t allow what he brings with him. I kill Jesus when I insist on my own way of doing things, that I know what’s right, and don’t need help. I kill Jesus when I refuse the love he has for me, love that would transform me into what he intends instead of what I think I should be.

Is there Good News here? It’s hard to see it, but when Luke tells us that Jesus passed through the crowd and went on his way, that phrasing is the same when he talks about Jesus setting his face toward Jerusalem where he will be crucified, die, and rise again. In other words, God has sent Jesus to fulfill his mission to love and bless the world and nothing will prevent Jesus from fulfilling that mission, regardless of our expectations for him. Jesus will be killed, but God’s mission will be fulfilled on God’s terms, not ours. Furthermore, death will not be the last word.

In a short while we’ll conclude worship, put away our hymnals and bulletins, pick up the annual report and convene our annual meeting in this same space. As we do so, it would be helpful to remember that God not only has a mission to love and bless the world but also that God’s mission has a church, of which Good Shepherd is one congregation. And as we discuss God’s mission and ministry through Good Shepherd, we keep in mind the wider circle of God’s love that includes us but encompasses far more than we can imagine or dream of. And we remember that death does not have the last word in the Bible, resurrection, new life, and transformation does. Thanks be to God. Amen.

My written sermons often preach differently "live." To watch the video, click here.

What Do You Hear? - Sermon for the Third Sunday after Epiphany Year C

What Do You Hear?

Epiphany 3C

January 23, 2022

Good Shepherd, Wells, MN

Luke 4.14-21

One of the first things you learn in preaching class (called homiletics) is that you have no control over your sermon once it has been preached. We learn that people often hear what’s said differently, perhaps what you didn’t intend. That’s been my experience as I’ve heard comments about things people heard in my sermon that I’m pretty certain I didn’t say. After all, I was the one who preached it! My first sermon was preached well before I went to seminary. I was a youth leader at Hope Lutheran Church in South Minneapolis. I don’t remember much about the sermon except that I know I finished by saying, “If the shoe fits, wear it!” Ouch. I was not in a good place at that time. But, that’s another story for another sermon. Even so, I have long wondered how the folk heard that sermon, though I didn’t care as much at the time.

Though our Gospel reading indicates that Jesus has been preaching and teaching before he visits his home congregation in Nazareth, for Luke and the rest of the Gospel, this is his inaugural address. In this text we hear that Jesus is a faithful Jew, attending synagogue on the sabbath whenever possible. Synagogues developed during the Babylonian captivity when the Jews were forcibly removed into exile into Babylon, which is modern day Iraq. With no temple to worship in, Jews gathered into houses to meet and keep connected to God. In the liturgy, a psalm is sung, prayers are prayed, a section of Torah is read, then one the prophets. Finally, there is some exposition on the reading, a sermon if you will.

This particular sabbath, the scroll of the prophet Isaiah is handed to Jesus, and he chooses promises from what we now call “Second Isaiah.” This portion of Isaiah was written during the Babylonian captivity and it was designed to bring comfort and consolation to the exiles. In doing so, and claiming that his presence provides fulfillment, Jesus sets aside any notion he is a warrior-king Messiah that some people expect. Rather, he claims to be a prophet-king anointed with a somewhat surprising mission, which I’ll deal with later. Meanwhile, as people heard these words in a different time and context than ours, I wonder how they heard them. No doubt there were various reactions (as we’ll see next week), especially as he says, “Today this has been fulfilled in your hearing.”

For the rest of the sermon, I’m going to unpack what the words of Isaiah indicate. I’m asking you to pay attention to what you are hearing and the reaction these words create within you. Ready? When Jesus talks about bringing good news to the poor he means not only saying a comforting word. Jesus, in the manner of Old Testament prophets before him, also speaks out against unjust systems that not only make people poor but are also designed to keep them there. There is a similar dynamic in Jesus’ intention to free the marginalized. They are to be released from oppressive institutions and those that keep those people in power who keep those institutions in place. You may recall that these are themes we heard in Mary’s Magnificat during Advent.

As jarring as those claims are, perhaps the most radical one is to “proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” Now this seems innocuous enough, but most people see that this is likely a shorthand way of proclaiming a time of jubilee, something that was commanded in the Old Testament, but never practiced. Jubilee involved restitution and restoration for all Israel: debts are to be forgiven and land returned to families who had leased them or used them for collateral. In other words, it was a massive redistribution of wealth. In sum, Jesus says he comes to give special attention to those who are not the powerful, whom the world often ignores and chooses not to see, those who are overlooked, forgotten, or discarded.

So, my sisters and brothers in Christ, what do you hear as I unpack these words of Jesus? What kind of reaction or feeling comes from listening to what I’ve had to say about them? For now, I want you to simply hold those reactions or feelings in awareness. Try not to evaluate them as good, bad, or otherwise, but to just sit with them. Then after a while, ask what God is saying to you in, with, and through your reactions.

If these words make you uncomfortable, then sit with the discomfort and hold it in awareness. If these words make you angry, then sit with the anger. If you find yourself afraid, then sit with the fear. If joyful, then sit with the joy. And if you feel nothing, then sit with that feeling as well. Whatever you hear and whatever the feeling, know that isn’t right or wrong, it just is. Know also that God is stirring up within you something that God wishes to do in, with, and through you. Next week we’ll learn how the people in Jesus’ hometown react, but for now, what do you hear? Amen.

My written sermons often preach differently "live." To watch the video, click here.

A Glimpse of Glory - Sermon for the Second Sunday after Epiphany

A Glimpse of Glory

Epiphany 2C

January 16, 2022

Good Shepherd, Wells, MN

John 2.1-11

Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him. (John 2.11)

Before I went to seminary and became a pastor, I volunteered as an assisting minister at what was then our home congregation, Nativity Lutheran Church in Alexandria, VA. As such, I would help distribute Communion. At that time, it would be with either a pouring chalice or a common cup. After distribution, the presiding pastor would finish off whatever was left in the cups much as I do here. One Sunday, the presiding pastor started to do so, suddenly stopped, handed me the chalice, and said, “I can’t drink this; you have to finish it.”

An aside: other than Communion wine, I’d given up drinking alcohol several years earlier. I come from a family that has had significant problems with alcohol, some of them are in recovery. I could see myself heading down that road and so Cindy and I agreed it wouldn’t be part of our marriage. So, for those of you who are in a similar situation, I can understand how you might hear this text differently. 

Back to the story: I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to drink the wine, but I didn’t want to contradict the pastor, so I finished the wine. When I did so I understood why he didn’t finish the wine. It was the most awful wine I have ever drank, and that’s saying a lot. At the risk of being blasphemous, if we are to “taste and see that the Lord is good” as Psalm 34 says, the Lord didn’t taste so good that day. Or, as someone else has noted, if as we sing in our Communion liturgy that Holy Communion is a foretaste of the heavenly feast to come, a stale wafer and bad wine hardly make heaven appealing.

Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him. (John 2.11)

During the Epiphany season we explore scripture texts that help us grow in our understanding of who this Jesus is. Last week in his baptism Jesus is revealed as God’s Beloved Son in whom God is well pleased. Today, as Jesus turns water into wine, not only abundantly but extravagantly, his glory is revealed in doing so. By the way, in John’s Gospel Jesus doesn’t do miracles, he does signs. We all know that signs point to something beyond themselves and also participate in the reality to which they point. In John, the goal of signs is for people believing in Jesus. Also, paradoxically, one needs to believe to appropriately interpret the sign, which then  helps them believe all the more.

There is so much this text has to say to us, but I’ve been pondering the glory of Jesus revealed in this sign. I was having a hard time pinning down the meaning of glory and how it fit into this story until Pr. Mark Boorsma of Ascension Albert Lea helped me. Pr. Boorsma is more of a Hebrew and Old Testament scholar than I’ll ever hope to be. He explained that in the Old Testament, glory isn’t the big, shining effervescence we think about as glory. Rather, glory refers to weight, heft, substance, or presence. Glory is something that makes an impression or an impact upon us which, when we see it, we say, “Oh, my.”

Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him. (John 2.11)

In this sign, Jesus’ disciples were able to get a glimpse of who Jesus is as Word made flesh. I’m guessing that those nameless, faceless, servants realized something as well, if later when they had a chance to reflect on these events. That’s the way it is with Jesus’ glory, his presence as God with us, that we never see it all at once, even though the text hints otherwise. And quite often we miss it altogether, until we realize later that God’s glory was there. That’s because we tend to look for the big, splashy, shiny revelations of God, who rarely works like that.

At the beginning of the service, God’s glory was revealed and made manifest in a little water poured over Weston’s head. It didn’t look like much, but we know that it will do some amazing things just as we mentioned last week. Weston is now a beloved son of God who belongs to God and us in a whole new way, setting out on a new life. In a few minutes, God’s glory will be revealed and made manifest in that little bit of wafer and wine that I somewhat disparagingly referenced at the beginning of this sermon. Yet we also believe that it, too, will do amazing things as those elements contain the abundant life that God has for us, grace upon grace.

This is not a “Don’t worry, be happy” text or sermon of rainbows and unicorns that ignores the reality of suffering or pain. Rather, God’s glory in the person of Jesus means we have the abundance of grace to sustain us during those times. And it also means that in a world deeply troubled, God’s glory is manifested in, with, and through us. God’s glory is revealed where people who disagree can have peace-filled conversations. It is revealed when hungry children have their backpacks filled with food. God’s glory is manifest when cold and homeless families are wrapped in warm quilts. God’s glory breaks in where the brokenhearted are comforted.

May you glimpse the glory of Jesus, grow in believing, and sustained by God’s grace. Amen.

My written sermons often preach differently "live." To watch the video, click here.

You Are the Beloved - Sermon for the Baptism of Our Lord Sunday Year C

You Are the Beloved

Baptism of Our Lord C

January 9, 2022

Good Shepherd, Wells, MN

Luke 3.15-17, 21-22

One of the best preachers I’ve heard is a former pastor, Rev. Wollom “Wally” Jensen. Wally preached without notes and I don’t think he ever wrote a sermon except in his head. He rarely preached from the pulpit, if ever.  If you wonder if I’ve modeled myself on him you would be correct. But there was something about his preaching that always puzzled me: he never failed to mention baptism in his sermons, no matter what the scripture text or season of the church year. When I got to seminary, I realized that when he went to seminary it was at the end of the liturgical renewal movement which recovered the significance of baptism for Christian worship. If you look carefully, you can see that significance reflected in the Lutheran Book of Worship, or “green book.”

Now, obviously I went to seminary later than Wally and no doubt have my own idiosyncrasies, but as an homage to Wally and our text about Jesus’ baptism, I’m going to talk about baptism using the mnemonic of the letter B. Being, Belonging, Behaving, and Believing are the four, with a fifth “B” running throughout all of them.

The first B is “Being.: One night my dad took me with him to watch him bowl, which was unusual because my dad bowled on a school night. So, this was a real treat. He was introducing me to a bowling buddy and I’ll never forget how the friend responded. “Oh Carl, I know he’s your son because he walks just like you.” I stood a little taller and my chest swelled a little larger because I was Carl’s son. Baptism affects our very Being, in other words, our identity. In baptism we are claimed as sons and daughters of God. In other words, who we are permanently changes us as we stand in a new relationship to God.

The second B is Belonging. I always meet with parents before baptism to talk about what it means and ask them why we baptize. When I first started 25 years ago, I’d get the “heavenly fire insurance” or “save from hell” answer. They wanted the assurance of their child’s final destiny. But about 10-15 years ago that shifted and parents started talking less about heaven or hell and more about coming into God’s family. Frankly, I think they were more on track as they talked about this second B of Belonging. In baptism, we not only belong to God in a deeper way, but we also belong to each other as we are now brothers and sisters in Christ. As I tell Confirmation students, wherever you go in life and whatever happens to you, there is a church that will always take you in, no matter what.

Now, once your Being changes and you Belong to God and each other, you start Behaving differently. Dan was an older, lifelong member of a congregation I served and when he died I met with his family to plan the funeral. Interestingly, one of his sons remarked that eternal life wasn’t that important to Dan about Christianity. Rather, what was important was how Christianity helped Dan live a better life and by all accounts,  indeed, he did. Being baptized gives us the assurance of eternal life and because we don’t have to worry about our destiny we can focus on living the life God wants for us.

Being, Belonging, and Behaving lead us to Believing and to someone with the opposite situation as Dan. Earl was also a long time member of the congregation. He was in the hospital and as I visited with him his mortality must have been on his mind. He was at the time of life when there wasn’t much of it left. I knew something was troubling him and finally he said, “Pastor, I just hope I’m good enough.” Now, I was a bit saddened because Earl was a lifelong Lutheran and faithfully sat in the pew as I hoped he heard God’s message of grace, love, and mercy, but somehow missed that message. So, I was grateful I was able to reassure him that the God who claimed him in baptism was not about ready to let go of him now.

I have two final things as we wrap up. First, the order I did these in may seem odd to you: Being, Belonging, Behaving, and Believing because historically as a church we have operated the other way. We tend to think we must Believe the right things first and then learn what it means to Behave as a follower of Jesus, which then means we can Belong to the community of faith as our Being changes into what God intends. However, I have come to experience the opposite, that the Gospel and the faith work the other way around. As we accept people for who they already are as God’s children and invite them into community, they understand what it means to follow Jesus and grow in the life of faith.

Finally, the most important B of all, the one that undergirds the others and runs through: Beloved. In baptism, God claims us not only as daughters and sons but Beloved ones at that. You are God’s Beloved (Being), who Belong to God and each other in Beloved Community, following the Beloved Way of Jesus (Behaving) as you grow in Beloving faith (Believing). Cling to your baptisms each and every day, God’s Beloved, and know that God is well pleased. Amen.

My written sermons often preach differently "live." To watch the video, click here.

Piling It On- Sermon for the Second Sunday of Christmas Year C

Piling It On

Christmas 2C

January 2, 2022

Good Shepherd, Wells, MN

John 1.1-18

The Rev. Shelly Fayette, Episcopal Diocese of Olympia, WA, has created tongue in cheek Christmas plays from each of the four Gospels: Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. Here is part of her “Christmas Pageant” from John: 

“The room is dark. Tiny children wear black capes. They whoosh around the room whispering, ‘in the beginning...in the beginning...in the beginning.’ One of them whirls around to display a glow in the dark WORD, and they dance over to another child, whose belly reads GOD, and then they link and become one unit, together, dancing, dancing. They keep pulling out glow in the dark scarves that say ‘light, light, light,’ and they dance around lighting all the candles scattered throughout the room. They chant, ‘the darkness did not overcome us! Ha!’"

The “pageant” goes on from there, including the appearance of a “haggard man” who bears witness to the light. Finally, at the end of all the pageants, Pr. Fayette notes, “none of these sets contain stables.” (Look it up; there is no stable in any of the Christmas stories.) Granted, her retellings are an excellent example of geeky pastor humor. But this creative retelling points out that John’s Christmas story, like the Gospel itself, is radically different from the rest of the three Gospels. (Okay, two Gospels, since Mark doesn’t have a Christmas story.) “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God … The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it. … The Word became flesh and dwelt among us and we have behold his glory as from a Father’s only Son. … From his fullness have we all received, grace upon grace.”

If some of the words of the Prologue to John’s Gospel sound poetic, you aren’t alone. Scholars have long noted hymnic phrases embedded here. And if the opening sentences sound a lot like the creation story in Genesis 1, that’s not accidental either. John insists, rightly so, that the first Christmas was not 2,000 years ago when Jesus was born in Bethlehem, but even before time began. John claims that before God took on human flesh, the whole of creation was infused with the presence of the Christ. He insists that Jesus was not some afterthought or Plan B that God desperately devised when all else failed. No, John claims, Jesus was there at the very start of it all.

John is my favorite Gospel, and verse 16 is one of my favorites in this Gospel: “From his fullness have we all received, grace upon grace.” Whenever I encounter this verse I have images of God piling God’s love upon us over and over. I imagine it is some cosmic version of the game, “Monkey Pile” we played as kids. Or even better, how visitors to my parents’ table would constantly be assaulted with an invitation to eat more. “Did you get enough? If you go away hungry it’s your own fault.” Though my parents didn’t wear their religion on their shirtsleeves, they understood hospitality and lived “grace upon grace.”

Even as the stores have pulled all their Christmas stuff and replaced it with Valentine's Day the day after Christmas, John’s Gospel and the church insist that Christmas continues throughout the year. (That’s one reason why I like to leave the Advent wreath up for the 12 days of Christmas.)  “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us,” John says. The word for “dwelt” literally means that God pitched a tent or tabernacled with us. Furthermore, even as Christ died, was raised, and ascended, we believe Christ still tabernacles with us.

In a few minutes, we’ll gather around the Table of Holy Communion where God will continue to pile it on, grace upon grace. Bread and wine become the body and blood of Jesus, Immanuel, God with Us. God knows that we need constant, tangible reminders of God’s love for us and freely gives such in the sacraments. As a colleague of mine once noted, when we receive Holy Communion we take the very creator of the universe into our bodies and it’s a wonder we don’t explode. Merry Christmas, God’s Beloved. May you experience the piling on of God’s grace upon grace this Christmas and always. Amen.

My written sermons often preach differently "live." To watch the video, click here.