Touched by God - Sermon for Transfiguration of Our Lord Year A

Touched by God

Transfiguration A

February 19, 2023

Christ, Preston, MN

Matthew 17.1-9

The Transfiguration text always leaves me wondering and asking questions. For example, why did Jesus take just those three disciples up on the mountain? Was it to balance out the dinner party with Moses and Elijah? And what did the other disciples think about that? Did they feel left out? How did the three disciples know that it was Moses and Elijah? Were they wearing name tags? “Hello, my name is Moses.” And why did Jesus tell them to keep it quiet? And did they, especially big mouth Peter? But I found myself pondering something else, almost a throwaway: Jesus’ gentle touch of the three as they lay cowering on the ground.

As I dwelled on this small, but significant act of Jesus, I remembered an experience from CPE during the summer following my first year of seminary. CPE is Clinical Pastoral Education and it’s just what the name implies. Seminarians learn about giving pastoral care in a chaplaincy setting, usually in a hospital. But because I had little experience with older people, I did my CPE at the Gettysburg Lutheran Home. Part of the learning was the obligatory session on infection control, especially hand washing. During the training, we were admonished to wash our hands before and after every contact. Now, in a hospital, that’s relatively easy, but in a care center it is much more difficult as you would encounter people “on the fly.” This was well before the pandemic and the ubiquitous sanitizing stations. After the session and as a group, we explored the “theology of touch” and how to balance control of infections with the need to touch the residents in a meaningful way.

Jesus touched people a lot, and people strained to touch him a lot, but I wondered how many times Jesus actually touched one or more of his disciples. The only times I could think of were here in today’s text; when he had to pull Peter out of the water and back into the boat; and the most familiar of all, the foot washing at the Last Supper. Here the touch of Jesus takes on great meaning because it counterbalances the otherworldliness of the event. Jesus’ touch grounds the story in the present even as it explores the mystery of his glory. And on a purely human level, it reassures the three disciples that Jesus is with them because in Matthew’s Gospel Jesus is Immanuel, “God with Us.”

Sometime ago, I heard of a study of an orphanage in Russia that was overwhelmed with babies. There was both a high mortality rate and failure of the infants to thrive and researchers wanted to find out why. The researchers discovered that the reason for these devastating events was something simple but profound. Because the orphanage was extremely short-staffed, only half of the babies were held for any length of time. Those that were held survived and thrived while those that weren’t held didn’t. Babies needed a human touch to not only survive but also to thrive.

As a pastor I know, because we are trained, what are good touches and bad touches are. We also know how much people need the reassuring and transforming touch of Jesus.My siblings in Christ, as you come forward for Holy Communion, know that Jesus is touching you in profound way. As you take in the very body and blood of the creator of the universe, hear Jesus’ words: “Get up and do not be afraid.” Amen.

My sermons often preach a little differently than written and you can find the video here.

But I Say to You - Sermon for the Sixth Sunday after Epiphany Year A

But I Say to You

Epiphany 6A

February 12, 2023

Christ, Preston & Union Prairie, Lanesboro

Matthew 5.21-37

In 1981, I was transferred from the Chicago Minnesota Fabrics store I was managing to the Aero Drapery facility in Louisville, KY. My wife, Cindy, and I rented an apartment on the East side, one that had outside stairways and entryways, something you can get away with in the South. The stairways were not only outside but also wide open and a favorite place for Susie to play. Susie was the little girl who lived with her mother above us on the third floor. One day as we came home, Susie was playing with little figurines and was pushing them off the landing, seeing them fall below. “Susie,” her mother scolded, “I’ve told you not to throw things off the landing!” Precocious Susie, obviously a budding lawyer, replied, “I’m not throwing them off. I’m pushing them off.”

It is also obvious that Susie failed to distinguish the letter of the law from the spirit of the law, something that I’m sure she and her mother discussed later. That’s important for today’s Gospel reading, our third and final foray into the Sermon on the Mount, the first and longest of five discourses of teaching of Jesus in Matthew as he is shown to be a teacher par excellence. So far, we’ve heard in the Beatitudes how we are blessed as followers of Jesus; that we are the salt of the earth and light of the world; that Jesus came not to abolish the law but to fulfill it; and that we are to attain a righteousness  as a community greater than that of the religious leaders of the day.

All of that was preamble for today’s reading and following, as Jesus gets down to the nitty gritty of how we are to live with one another. Taken at face value, Jesus’ words are hard to hear, particularly about lust, divorce, and adultery. On the one hand, we can tell that Jesus is speaking in hyperbole: there are no one-eyed men and women here. But that doesn’t undercut what Jesus is trying to do, to say PAY ATTENTION, this is important. He wants us to understand that God takes our relationship with each other very seriously.

Jesus first and foremost wants us to acknowledge that we can and do deeply hurt one another. And very often that hurt comes from being so focused on the letter of the law in lieu of its spirit. Debie Thomas, one of my favorite writers says it this way: “There is a place called hell and it’s a place we create for each other every time we choose an easy and austere legalism over an arduous and radical love.” We don’t need God to create a hell for us because we do it on our own.

In the mid-1990s, I was preparing for graduation from seminary and hopefully, call and ordination. The process involved writing essays that would be judged by a candidacy committee. One of the questions asked what my response would be to a gay man who contracted AIDS. Remember, this was a time when the issue of both homosexuality, homosexual behavior, and AIDS were volatile issues. Both the church and society were coming to grips with them. As I struggled with how to faithfully answer the question, theologically, pastorally, and personally, it occurred to me  - no doubt through the Holy Spirit - that the question of how a gay man contracted AIDS and the social issues involved weren’t relevant. The issue was how as a pastor and faith community we could compassionately care for this person. The other questions would be addressed at another time. I must have answered it well enough because here I am today.

Jesus is clear that what we do matters. But he is also clear that what we do is to be done with compassion and love. We do well to remember that Jesus’ words are addressed to the group of disciples as a whole, to the  “y'all" in which he is calling forth a new faith community. He is telling us we don’t have to settle for what is by giving us a vision of what can be. The issue isn’t as much about how divorce happens and shaming people because of it. The issue is how we as a faith community can minister to families in the midst of that reality, not adding to their pain. My siblings in Christ, you have heard what the world says, but Jesus says to you there’s a better way. The way of compassion and love is hard, but it is where true life is to be found. Amen.

My sermons often preach a little differently than written and you can find the video here.

A Church Built on a Hill - Sermon for the Fifth Sunday after Epiphany Year A

A Church Built on a Hill

Epiphany 5A

February 5, 2023

Christ, Preston, MN

Matthew 5.13-20

The spring of my freshman year at Gustavus Adolphus College found me rushing a fraternity, Epsilon Pi Alpha, also known as the “Eppies.” Back then, though hazing was officially frowned upon by the administration, it proliferated with inglorious abandon. One such practice was kidnapping pledges, blindfolding us, and dumping us far away from campus. With no cell phone then and few students had cars, it was not a joy ride. On one occasion when I could escape being caught, after we were hauled out of the car and had our blindfolds removed, one of the upperclassmen unexpectedly pointed us toward two distant radio towers. The towers had bright, red lights and showed us the way to campus, to “The Hill” as Gustavus is also known.

“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid,” Jesus tells his followers. We continue our foray into the so-called Sermon on the Mount, the first of five long discourses by Jesus in Matthew’s Gospel where Jesus is shown to be a teacher par excellence. The Sermon on the Mount outlines the way of Jesus, that is, what it means to be a follower of Jesus, the kingdom way. The reading this week is Part 2 of the preamble to Jesus’ discourse, Part 1 being the Beatitudes we heard last week. Here, Jesus wants to make it clear that his way is not only consistent with the Hebrew Scriptures, but his interpretation is also God’s original intention to interpret the law through love. All rabbis, including Jesus, have a very high view of Scripture, but they can disagree vigorously about how it’s interpreted. Jesus insists that the interpretation be done through the law of love, to love God and love neighbor.

It’s wonderful we have this text with a baptism as we give the charge to Kolby to “let your light so shine before others so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” Of course, as with every baptism, all of us are reminded again to let our own lights shine. But there’s more to this text than meets the eye as hinted by Jesus’ analogy of the city on the hill. When Jesus says, “You are the light of the world,” the “you” is the plural you: “y’all.” “Y’all are the light of the world.”

I think that building Christ Lutheran Church on this spot 60 years ago was a stroke of genius by the congregation. Not only did two congregations, one German and one Norwegian, join together for the sake of mission and ministry, they built a church that would be a visible sign of God’s presence in the Preston community for years. Whether you are a local or driving by on Hwy. 52, Christ Lutheran is readily visible. Like the lights on those two radio towers at Gustavus, Christ Lutheran Church is a beacon of light to a dark world.

My siblings in Christ, y’all are the light of the world, reflecting the light of Jesus, the true Light of the World. We are reminded today that our good works do not earn us merit but flow from our identity as light. God’s light shines in, with, and through us to be agents of God’s love and healing to a broken world. This is not about getting to heaven but rather living into God’s kingdom here on earth. I continue to look forward to seeing what this means as we walk in the light together. Amen.

My sermons often preach a little differently than written and you can find the video here.