Can You Imagine … Speaking the Truth to Power? - Sermon for the Fourth Sunday of Easter

Can You Imagine … Speaking the Truth to Power?

Easter 4B

April 25, 2021

Grace, Waseca, MN

Acts 4.1-12

You may have noticed during this Easter season that the First Readings are from the book of Acts, not from the Old Testament. Since Acts is a historical book and not one of the New Testament letters, this makes a certain amount of sense. But Acts provides us more than a recitation of events following Jesus’ death and resurrection. Acts helps us imagine what a resurrection-powered community guided by the Holy Spirit looks like. Some corners of Christianity think we need to exactly replicate the First Century Acts community today. They forget how those early Christians got where they were, like the folk in this video.

In a profound sense, those first Christians were making it up as they go, building it on the fly as it were, doing it under the power of the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit, or Spirit, is mentioned 43 times in Acts. As one of my seminary professors observed, the book of Acts shouldn’t be titled “The Acts of the Apostles; it should be “The Acts of the Holy Spirit.” Rather than giving us a cookie cutter template to follow rotely, Acts helps us imagine a resurrection-powered community guided by the Holy Spirit. In today’s episode, Peter and John have been arrested and jailed by some religious leaders. They had healed a lame man in the temple, but their real crime was preaching Jesus’ resurrection. Peter’s words here in chapter 4 are a summary of a longer sermon he preaches in chapter 3.

Now, let’s stop and think about how remarkable this story is: Peter and John are uneducated fishermen who traveled with the notorious Jesus and until lately were hiding from these same religious leaders in fear. For good reason. Outside of the Roman occupying forces, these religious leaders wielded enormous power over their lives. Yet, here they were, standing toe to toe with them and not even the awful experience of spending a night in jail and implicit threats of bodily harm could blunt their proclamation about Jesus. Peter, in the power of the Holy Spirit, challenges them as he brings good news to the Jewish people. He speaks truth to power.

For those who wield institutional, cultural, and coercive power, this is not good news. In particular, the Sadducees who don’t believe in resurrection, are threatened to their very core. Even so, they cannot contain the gospel of Jesus Christ no more than the tomb could contain Jesus. The kingdom that Jesus brings will come no matter who or what stands in the way of it. Where institutions and leaders have become corrupt and wielded power for themselves instead of those whom God has put in their charge, who have not been the “Good Shepherds” that God has appointed them, will not deter God’s determination to bring new life.

Today I’m inviting you to imagine what it would be like for Grace to be a resurrection-powered community under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. In particular, I’d like you to imagine how Grace could speak truth to power in the Waseca community and beyond. Don’t get me wrong, Waseca is a wonderful community, and it has many terrific things going for it. But I know there are marginalized voices being stifled in the community and no one is speaking on their behalf. I know there are issues no one wants to acknowledge or treat seriously – and we don’t need to go far to find them. God has given the people of Grace tremendous gifts; can you imagine how God can use you to speak truth to power? There is no template, no cookie cutter answer, but there is the Holy Spirit that will guide you. Amen.

To view the sermon in a video click here.

Walk to the Tomb - Sermon for the Resurrection of Our Lord B

Walk to the Tomb

Resurrection of Our Lord B

April 4, 2021

Grace, Waseca, MN

Mark 16.1-8

When is an ending not an end?

When a dead man rises from the tomb—and when a Gospel ends in the middle of a sentence. Lamar Williamson, Jr. in Mark

My wife and I have been binge watching episodes from the DC comic book superhero universe: “Arrow,” “Flash,” and “DC Legends of Tomorrow.” And by “binge watching” I mean one or two episodes per night. One thing we’ve quickly learned is that you never want to time travel, for whatever reason, because you will always mess up the timeline. Another thing we’ve learned is that no one ever stays dead, no matter how decisively they’ve died. Anybody can reappear at any time. Finally, we’ve learned that it is obvious a story arc is never over; characters reappear and cliffhangers abound. There is never a neat, tidy ending. From what i remember of my college American Lit course years ago, that’s a unique feature of the American novel: stories never end.

Apparently, the Gospel writer Mark was ahead of his time with a story that ends so absurdly abruptly that leaders in the early church decided that it needed not only one ending but two, a “shorter ending” and a “longer ending.” It’s understandable because, though you can’t see it in English, the story does indeed end in the middle of a sentence. However, had the church fathers reread the opening sentence of Mark’s Gospel, “the beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ,” they might have realized what most modern commentators do: Mark did this intentionally.

Why does Mark end the Gospel this way? I don’t think that Mark is into writing cliffhangers to build interest or in resuscitating various plot lines. Rather, think Mark wants us to know that this is not the end, only the end of the beginning. That there would be more story to be written hardly seemed possible to the three women, those first witnesses, who come to the tomb that morning, wanting to finish what they started by anointing Jesus’ body. Even as they go, while they are on their way, they worry about who will roll away the stone for them.

What strikes me is they come to the tomb anyway, certain of their mission without knowing how they are going to carry it out. Yet, seeing that the stone has been rolled away, and hearing the claims of the young man, they begin to glimpse that this is God’s story continually being written, even in terror and amazement. Like many of us faced with the unfathomable, it probably took them time to process it all. So, clearly somebody did tell someone, Jesus met them and the disciples in Galilee, and the story continues.

A year ago, we faced a huge stone: how we were going to live in the midst of a pandemic? There was the false optimism of two weeks’ shut down and back to normal gave way to the reality that we were in this for the long haul. Over half a million people have died and even more continue to suffer. People are tired and businesses may never recover from the economic impact. Zoom fatigue is a real thing, weddings, funerals, and trips have been postponed or cancelled. And we fight over such a simple thing as wearing masks.

Yet, the story is still being written, for God is working in, with and through us in amazing ways. School teachers, administrators along with parents have been doing some incredibly heavy lifting. Businesses have been creative. The medical community has stepped up big time. At Grace, we had our first ever virtual Christmas pageant (and there will be an Easter one!). Because of our tech team, our outreach has multiplied through livestreaming with more people hearing the Gospel across the country. Our faith formation has shifted numerous times, helping young people to grow in their relationship with Jesus. The transition work by the Discovery Team was creative and fruitful and the Call Committee will be operating with the assumption that God will move stones and continue to write the story of Grace Waseca.

What are the stones in your life that seem to be insurmountable and immovable? What is the story you find yourself in that both terrorizes you and amazes you? As we proclaim that ancient message, “Christ is risen, Christ is risen indeed, alleluia,” know that the God who raised Jesus from the dead 2,000 years ago continues to work in this world. Walk to the tomb every day, my sisters and brothers in Christ, expecting to see the risen Christ. Thanks be to God! Amen.

For the video version of this sermon click here.

Lent in Plain Sight: Thorns - Sermon for Good Friday

Lent in Plain Sight: Thorns

Good Friday B

April 2, 2021

Grace, Waseca, MN

Mark 14.32-15.32

I want you to imagine for a few moments that you were there at the crucifixion of Jesus. It’s not hard for us to remember vividly the crucifixion, whether we want to or not: Jesus being nailed to the cross, hanging in agony. Yet, sometimes we forget the abuse he experiences before and after that horrific event. Jesus is brought before the high council in the sham of a trial, the religious leaders looking for any excuse to get rid of him. Jesus gives them one, stating simply that he indeed is the Messiah, the Son of the Blessed One. The religious leaders tear their cloaks, hearing what sounds like blasphemy, and deciding that Jesus needs to die. But before they ship him off, Jesus absorbs the first of several physical assaults as they spit on him, blindfold him, and hit him.

Yet, in an attempt to keep their hands clean, they send him to the governor, Pontius Pilate. Pilate conducts his own interrogation, asking a different question than the religious leaders: “Are you the King of the Jews?” It will be the first of five times Jesus will be named as King of the Jews in just a very few verses. Even so, Pilate, to his credit, looks for an opportunity to release Jesus, knowing he is being played and that Jesus doesn’t deserve to die. But the crowds, stirred up by the religious leaders, shout over and over again, “Crucify him!” prevent him from doing so. Then Jesus receives his second beating as Pilate has him flogged before handing him over to be crucified.

The soldiers, sensing an opportunity for unbridled “fun,” wrap him in a purple cloak, twist some thorns into a crown and for a third time label Jesus as King of the Jews, while spitting and hitting him. Even as they crucify him they are not done mocking and abusing him. They place a placard around his neck identifying the charges against him: King of the Jews. Even then the mocking doesn’t end. The religious leaders just can’t resist one final mocking: “Let the Messiah, the King of Israel, come down from the cross now, so that we may see and believe.” If that wasn’t bad enough, those crucified alongside him taunted Jesus as well.

There is more to the story, but I want to pause and reflect on something. In the midst of this undeserved brutality sits the crown of thorns, not placed gently on him. As we listen to the story, not wanting to hear and turning our mind’s eyes away from the patent cruelty that is almost incomprehensible, we might wonder: what were they so afraid of that they did this horrific thing? Were they more afraid that Jesus was the promised King or that he wasn’t? We know that Jesus threatened the standing of the religious leaders, and that Pilate feared the unrest of the crowds. But what about the soldiers and the two criminals, what could they possibly have to fear?

I’ll leave that sit here because there’s a set of characters in the story, present throughout the abuse not yet named: you and me. In answer to the hymn, “Were you there?,” we acknowledge that yes indeed, “We were there,” and frankly we don’t do much better than those others. For the real human condition is that we, too, are afraid of Jesus and mock him, even if doing so unknowingly. The brutal facts of Good Friday are that we mock Jesus in what we do and don’t do. We mock him in what we say and don’t say. And we even mock him in what we continue to think. We mock Jesus whenever acts of injustice are perpetrated and we keep quiet or rationalize them away. Just the other day yet an Asian woman was attacked and beaten while two men did nothing, not even calling 911 from the safety of the building.

I think it’s a good thing that there is a day between Good Friday and Easter Sunday, a time of reflection about this Friday we call Good. It is easy to move too quickly to the assurance of, “It’s okay, Jesus forgives” without considering the magnitude of what that forgiveness and reconciliation costs. We must sit in the stillness of Good Friday, waiting, hoping, wondering how God is doing God’s crucifying work within us. You were there at the cross, and you are here now, and that will become Good News, just not yet. Peace.

For the video of the sermon, please click here.

The Holy Week Hokey Pokey - Sermon for Palm Sunday B

The Holy Week Hokey Pokey

Palm Sunday B

March 28, 2021

Grace, Waseca, MN

Mark 11.1-11

7Then they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it; and he sat on it. 8Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields.

One way to read scripture is to imagine yourself in the text; who are you and what are you doing? What are you thinking about what is happening? Are you one of the disciples sent to fetch the donkey, wondering what Jesus is up to? Is this a fool’s errand? Has Jesus prearranged this or does he somehow know something we don’t? Are you one of the other disciples or hangers on who have been following Jesus? Do you spread your coat on the ground or donkey? Are you going in front leading the way or bringing up the rear, shouting, “Hosanna!” which means “save us?” What do you want Jesus to save you from? Do you think this is a kingly procession? What kind of a Messiah or King are you expecting Jesus to be, saving you from what? Is Jesus a warrior king that will overthrow the Roman occupation? Or maybe you identify with Jesus, knowing that things will not turn out well for you this week, that the cheers will turn to jeers when the crowds are disappointed. Where are you in this story?

One thing I’ve learned about myself is that I’d probably be one standing off to the side watching to see how this unfolds. I’d like to say that I was with Jesus every step of the way and deeply committed to him. Mostly likely, though, I’d be seeing how this all plays out, waiting to see what happens. That’s why the image of the people’s coats is helpful, challenging, and also unnerving. This Lent, we’ve been using the book Lent in Plain Sight: A Devotion through Ten Objects, to help us enter the passion story. In the readings for Palm Sunday, through the object of the coats or cloaks, the author encourages us to reflect on how much we are holding back in our walk with Jesus.

Thinking of tossing my coat with abandon like those first followers of Jesus is helpful because it is one way for me to enter the story when I might hang back. Considering giving up something that I wouldn’t have much of, even for a moment, is hard for me. I like to cling to what I have. Using the image of coats also  challenges me to question why I’d have such a difficult time letting go and going all in with Jesus. It makes me ask if there are parts of my life that I’m holding back from Jesus, waiting, watching, on the sidelines. Thus, this exercise is also unnerving because if I answer honestly, I might have to change. I might have to go outside my comfort zone and, gasp, raise the palm branch above my head and wave it vigorously.

There’s another aspect of using the coats as a way into the text that I have also found helpful. A number of years ago I did a training session for acolytes, showing them how to put on a robe and cincture, bow reverently to the altar, and so forth. I also reminded them that the Saturday evening service would be “robe-less,” so that they would realize their street clothes would show. (Sometimes young people wouldn’t care what they wore thinking it would be covered by the robe.) Immediately, a parent raised their hand and asked, “What’s your dress code?” I almost got suckered into that, but received the grace to pause and think. Then I said, “I don’t have a dress code; I want our young people to bring your best selves, whatever that is.” Thinking about the coats spread on the colt and road prods us to consider bringing our whole, best selves in our faith walk with Jesus.

This is challenging for me, because I tend to stand on the outskirts, observing. Many times this serves me well as I am able to see the big picture and think strategically. However, the downside is that I don’t often fully engage in the life Jesus invites me into. If you are like me, maybe as a start you can see this as an invitation to fully enter Holy Week by participating in our Maundy Thursday and Good Friday services. In other words, to do the “Holy Week Hokey Pokey,” if you will, by putting your whole, best selves in. You see, the road to Easter and the empty tomb goes through the Last Supper on Maundy Thursday and the cross on Good Friday. So, where are you in the story and where is Jesus inviting you to be? Please join me as we travel the road with Jesus this week. Amen.

To watch this sermon in a video click here.

Lent in Plain Sight: Oil - Reflection for Midweek Lent 2021

Lent in Plain Sight: Oil

Midweek Lent

March 24, 2021

Grace, Waseca, MN

Psalm 23

“You anoint my head with oil …”: those words from the beloved 23rd Psalm are evocative for me. I immediately think of all the heads I have anointed with the sign of the cross: the scores of baptisms and the multitude of those I’ve been able to commend to God as they lay dying. There have been hundreds of times at a funeral when the head of the deceased person and the heads of those loved ones gathered to celebrate their life have been virtually anointed through the reading of this Psalm.

The Roman Catholics have a sacrament that used to be called “Extreme Unction” (“unction” having to do with oil). Then it was called “Last Rites” and now “Anointing of the Sick.” We Lutherans have a similar rite called “The Commendation of the Dying.” It may not be a sacrament for us but it is no less holy as we commend our loved ones to God while giving them permission to leave us. Yet, always the oil is delivered in the sign of the cross, remembering the words at baptism: “You have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross forever.” The oil “seals the deal.”

The book we are using this Lent, Lent in Plain Sight: A Devotion through Ten Objects, points out that oil is present in many ways throughout the Bible, with various shades of usage. In “The Parable of the Ten Bridesmaids,” Jesus tells a story about five wise bridesmaids who remember to bring extra oil to the festivities and five foolish bridesmaids who don’t. In this parable, oil is considered by some to have an allegorical meaning, perhaps denoting having enough faith. But interpretations like this one are iffy at best. And in the Old Testament, there is the story about the prophet Elijah who promises that the oil of the widow he depends upon will never run out during the famine. Here, the oil is a sign of God’s gracious provision.

But it’s the use of oil for anointing that gets the biggest play in Scripture, though not without shades of meaning. Kings in the Old Testament were anointed, either before their coronation or during, in a vivid act of being set apart as God’s representative. But it wasn’t just kings that were set aside; others such as priests were consecrated for God’s purposes as well. Frankly, the thought of having oil running down my head  and onto my clothes sounds like a nasty prank and makes me squirm. Yet, I understand that in the very dry Middle East, this would have felt good to people, much like cool water on our heads during a hot day. 

Anointing can happen without oil. When I was discerning a call to ordained ministry, I called my sister to lament: “Cheryl, I’m 38 years old and I’ll be 42 when I graduate.” My sister, always straightforward, said, “Scott, you’ll be 42 when you graduate from seminary so you might as well do what God is calling you to do. Though she didn’t use oil, my sister “anointed” me that day.

Perhaps this helps explain another major use of oil in the Bible: for healing of sickness. In Jesus’ parable, the “Good Samaritan” not only cleans and binds the victim’s wounds, he applies oil to them. And oil for healing was a practice adopted by the early church as the author of James directs the elders of the church to go, pray over the sick and apply oil. We can now understand the attraction of essential oils. But, there is also emotional, spiritual, and psychological healing provided by the anointing of oil done in healing services. And we love to sing hymns, such as, “There is a Balm in Gilead.”

Many of these themes come together in Jesus Christ, who was consecrated by the woman who anoints his head with costly oil, setting him aside for God’s work as God’s representative, preparing for death and burial. Thinking about oil not only prods us to think about how Jesus was set aside for this work, but also how we’ve been anointed and consecrated in our daily vocations to serve God and neighbor. So remember, brothers and sisters in Christ, that you, too, have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ. Amen

To view this with video click here.

Good News or Not? - Sermon for the Fourth Sunday in Lent

Good News or Not?

Lent 4B

March 14, 2021

Grace, Waseca, MN

John 3.14-21

“Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but so that the world might be saved through him.”

When I was in elementary school, we had “release time” where we could go to a nearby church for an hour a week. The idea was, I guess, to learn more about God and get stronger in our faith. But in my case it backfired. I don’t remember much about that release time, but what I do remember vividly is one afternoon reading a “comic book” for kids. I use air quotes because this particular comic book was anything but funny. It showed people burning in hell. The message was quite clear: if you don’t accept Jesus and follow him you’ll end up like those people, burning for eternity.

Whatever the release teacher’s motives, they didn’t scare me out of hell; they scared hell into me. I couldn’t articulate this back then, but this was certainly not good news to me. I would make it through the rest of Sunday School and Confirmation at my own church, but would drop out of the church until a young adult. And I’ve always wondered if my nightmares struggling with the devil were attributed to this childhood experience. Looking back, I’d like to think the teacher had the best of intentions, that they truly cared about our souls. But how did they conclude that the best way to get kids to follow the way of Jesus is through fear?

It is in fear that the religious leader Nicodemus comes to Jesus under the cover of darkness to quiz him. “Nic at Night”we like to call it. Nicodemus is trying to not only figure out just who this Jesus is, but also his relationship to him. Jesus confuses him by not answering his question, telling him he needs to be born again (or from above). Then Jesus finally zeroes in on what he wants to say, telling Nicodemus that he, the Son of Man, must be “lifted up.” We’ll discover later on in John’s Gospel that means Jesus’ crucifixion, resurrection and ascension, three distinct but not separate parts of one continuous action. And then comes this verse that is the favorite of football stadiums everywhere, “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life.”

Yet, as good as that verse is, my favorite is the one that follows: “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but so that the world might be saved through him.” Now, I have to ask, how is it that my release time teacher missed this? Did they just skip over this verse and move onto the verses that seem to condemn people to hell that don’t believe in Jesus? A word about those verses: I don’t think Jesus is condemning people who don’t believe, just the opposite. I think Jesus is holding up a mirror to us about the human condition, that as broken people our darker, shadow sides often come through and we like it that way.

Jesus only does that to help us understand that God loves all of us so much that God will go to great lengths to bring us into a life-giving relationship with God and with all of creation. The cross tells us God will do whatever it takes and as long it takes to love us back, including dying. As Ephesians says, “By grace you have been saved and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God.” And that “you” in Ephesians is plural, meaning everyone. The thing we need to remember is that we are all in this together. It’s not a privatized “me and Jesus,” but “me and you and you and you and everyone else and Jesus.” 

So, what are the condemning voices that you’ve heard, especially the ones from churchy people? Or, do you know someone like me that has been told they aren’t loved by God the way they are, that they have to change to be accepted by God? Please, hear the good news that God loves you, no strings attached, and will keep loving you. Here’s one way to proclaim this message loudly and clearly: a proposed core value for Grace is Inclusive Welcoming. I invite you to think about how Grace embodies this value and might do so more fully. For by grace all y’all have been saved, because God did not send his Son to condemn all y’all, but save everyone. Thanks be to God. Amen.

To view the video version of this sermon click here.

Lent in Plain Sight: Coins - Sermon for Midweek Lent

Lent in Plain Sight: Coins

Midweek Lent 2021

March 10, 2021

Grace, Waseca, MN

Matthew 6.19-21

Like Pr. Paige, and most pastors I assume, I love words and am constantly intrigued by them, learning new ones all the time. So, as I thought about this week’s object of devotion–coins–I thought of that word: devotion. What does it mean exactly and what does it mean relating to coins? So, I looked the word up in the dictionary. One definition means that there’s the sense of being ardently dedicated or loyal to someone or something, such as a cause like racial injustice. By extension, there is the act of dedicating time and energy to an activity or enterprise. It seems like one is a thing and another an action. But we mean devotion in a religious sense as an act of piety or worship that brings us closer to God. Yet, it’s hard for those of us who think of devotions as reading the Bible and praying or journaling as using objects to help us in our relationship with God.

That’s particularly true when we think about coins and we may resist any act of devotion to money, understandably so. Certainly, that was true for the Jewish people who were forbidden to put images of people on their money because it violated the First Commandment against worshiping other gods. So, imagine the dilemma Jews had when they had to pay taxes using money with Caesar’s face on it. It’s a graven image. As I have been reading two biographies of Alexander Hamilton, I realize we may have that same problem today with the images of our founders on coins or mountains or anywhere we put them. We tend to idolize them, forgetting they were fallible creatures, “mixed bags” as I like to call them.

We need to recognize that our relationship to money is complicated and even paradoxical. It starts early, doesn’t it when one of our buddies offers to give us a quarter if we eat an earthworm or some other disgusting thing. And it’s paradoxical because, in my experience, it seems the more we have the more we want, and that the more people have the less generous they are. Back in 2014 some guys did a social experiment - purely unscientific - asking people sitting at outdoor restaurants to share their food. Even though they could clearly afford to do so, nobody did. Then they gave homeless people a supposedly leftover pizza and had someone else come and ask for a piece Every homeless person gave without hesitation. Yet, I’ve witnessed people drop change on the ground and heard people say they wouldn’t stop to pick up a penny, saying that it’s not worth it. Our relationship with money is complicated.

So, can coins be an object to help us in our relationship with God and one another? I think so. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus reminds us that where our treasure is, there our heart will be also. Notice, it’s not the other way around as we normally think; our heart follows what we treasure. As we look at coins this week, I invite you into one of two spiritual practices as you meditate and deepen your relationship with God. First, as you look at a coin (if you can find one), practice gratitude for what God has given to you. Maybe put a coin in your pocket or purse, perhaps on a nightstand as a reminder of God’s provision and take a moment to thank God for what you have.

Second, as you look at the coin, think about spending as a spiritual practice, not just what you do as a way of operating in the world. This is not intended to induce guilt or shame, but to invite you into thinking about your values when you spend. Sometimes spending is so easy – our paychecks are automatically deposited, we swipe our credit card, or bills are automatically paid – we forget to reflect on what is meaningful to us.

So, maybe there is a sense that perhaps those first two definitions of devotion apply: we are encouraged to devote time and energy to coins. First, to help us to give thanks to God for what we have and second, to grow closer to God in so doing. Peace be with you this week. Amen.

To view this in the video click here.