At the Tomb - Sermon for the Fifth Sunday in Lent Year A

At the Tomb

Lent 5A

March 26, 2023

Christ, Preston, MN

John 11.1-45

It became clear to me this past week that our scripture readings can trigger strong emotions within us. We can easily feel overwhelmed by the finality, despair, and hopelessness of death present in the story from Ezekiel about the vast valley of dry bones, bones that are dried up and utterly lost. And emotions run rampant through John’s Gospel as not only Martha and Mary mourn Lazarus’ death, a death that seems senseless, but we see Jesus weeping as well.

One of the many memories these texts triggered for me happened years ago as I was called to the hospital because a member, Delores, had died, not unexpectedly. When I arrived, Delores’ daughter, Dory, was there with her husband Jim and their daughters Ashley and Jamie. Now, I’d done the funeral for Delores’ husband Carl a year or two earlier and I knew her family well. The girls were active, with Jamie in Confirmation and Ashely a key member of the Youth group. In addition, Dory and Jim lived close to us and our girls were of similar ages. 

Now, Delores’ death was a good death in many ways: it was time for her and she’d had family close by at her side as she died. But as I walked in the room and saw their grief, I was surprised by a wave of grief that washed over me. Usually I can maintain my professional demeanor. But as I reflected on that emotion I realized my grief wasn’t as much for Delores as it was for her family, to see them in their tender grief.

I know better than to say, “I know how you feel,” because nobody ever knows how someone else is feeling. But I can say that I suspect that what happened to me was similar to Jesus’ experience with Martha and Mary. Our text today is rich in emotion and human interactions, from the disciples who wonder if they are going to die with Jesus, to Martha and Mary and the mourners as well as to Jesus himself, through which we have a window into the full humanity of God. Jesus not only exhibits deep compassion for them, he is angry at the power of death.

Jesus often appears detached and “above the fray” as we say, and there is that sense here. He seems not to care about Lazarus, let alone his disciples and Martha. But there is also the sense that Jesus is right there with them as one of them. Said in another way, our God is mysteriously Holy Other, who cannot be grasped or fully understood, is also fully present and acting in our midst, bringing life from death. All too often as we go about our daily lives we might forget about God or perhaps we might talk about the idea of God. That is, until a story like today’s text nudges us to remember that God is fully present in, with, and under our lives each and every day.

As today’s lessons evoke deep feelings we are reminded that we are always at the tomb whether we realize it or not. If it is not being confronted by death itself, as when we said goodbye to Donald “Buzz” Riehl yesterday, it is being reminded about the grief death brings. But we do not stand at the tomb alone for we have a God who stands with us and we have a community of faith that supports us in our grief when we can barely support ourselves. In doing so, we, too, are unbound and released for life by the One who is the Resurrection and the Life. Thanks be to God. Amen.

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

In the Dark 2 - Sermon for the Fourth Sunday in Lent Year A

In the Dark 2

Lent 4A

March 19, 2023

Christ, Preston, MN

John 9.1-41

One day, following a funeral at church, I encountered an attendee in the parking lot. A visitor to the church, she told me how much she appreciated the service, especially the invitation to Communion. The invitation that I gave was the same I give here: “All are welcome to God’s table of grace and mercy. If you wonder if that means you, yes it does.” I was glad she felt welcomed, especially in an unfamiliar setting. Then she added, “You know, if I’d been welcomed like that years ago I’d never have left the Lutheran Church.” So, in addition to feeling grateful, I was sad she hadn’t experienced it previously.

The man born blind who had received his sight from Jesus did not receive a warm welcome, either. In what should have been a joyous occasion, the gift of sight to the man born blind was not one at all. Writers have observed that the usual response of amazement following a miracle is nowhere to be found here. The disciples are silent after wrestling with the theological question of sin and suffering. The neighbors can’t see the miracle though it’s staring them in the face. The religious leaders are so indignant they can’t see God’s handiwork. And the man’s parents lose Parent of the Year because they are afraid of retribution from the religious leaders they throw their son under the bus. But it is the religious leaders that Jesus has choice words for, those who should be helping people see God’s action in the world, not hindering it.

This is not a Jewish problem from 2,000 years ago. (By the way, when the Gospel writer John uses the term “Jews” in a negative sense he is most often referring to the religious leaders, not the Jewish people themselves.) It has all too often been a Christian problem. Former Pastor, public theologian, and writer Brian McLaren explains this in excruciating detail in his book, Do I Stay Christian: A Guide for the Doubters, the Disappointed, and the Disillusioned. The book provides a case for why one shouldn’t (and should) remain a Christian. Among the arguments McLaren gives for leaving: Christianity’s antisemitism, complicity with Colonialism, and long history of squelching dissent against nonconformists (i.e., heretics) especially with violence.

In the story of the man born blind, we discover someone who grows in faith and understanding of who Jesus is and what it means to follow him, even in the face of hostility, uncertainty, and fear. But we also have the opportunity to engage in deep reflection as a church how we respond to the possibility that God is doing something new in our midst. We can ask ourselves if we have the humility to wonder about God’s crazy ways.

The author CS Lewis wrote a book called The Last Battle, the final installment in The Chronicles of Narnia series. In the series, the lion Aslan is a Christ-figure in the land of Narnia populated by people, talking animals, and fantastical creatures. The Last Battle depicts the end of Narnia and features a battle between good and evil. In the battle dwarves continually switch sides because, as they say, “the dwarves are for the dwarves.” Even so, they still find themselves thrown into a ramshackle hut by the evil forces, a hut that we discover “is bigger on the inside than outside.” Though the inside of the hut is a Narnian version of a new world, a new heaven and a new earth, if you will, the dwarves can only see a dirty, smelly hut. They cannot see the beauty surrounding them.

I won’t spoil the ending for you, but suffice it to say that there are those people and creatures in the New Narnia whom we might not expect to be there. And we have a hint that even the blind dwarves are not a lost cause, that they might be able to escape the hell of their own making and see the paradise prepared for them. The season of Lent is an opportunity for deep reflection on our relationship with God and others. It is for both personal and communal reflection, how we are invited to see God working, both in, with, and through our lives and Christ Lutheran Church as well. 

I can’t go back and fix the hurt that the funeral visitor experienced in her life. And I’m sorry if any of you who are listening have been hurt by the church. But we can be the gracious, open, and welcoming place God intends. This is hard work, Siblings in Christ, but done with the presence of Christ who opens our eyes and minds to see. Thanks be to God. Amen.

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

At the Well - Sermon for the Third Sunday in Lent Year A

At the Well

Lent 3A

March 12, 2023

Christ, Preston, MN

John 4.5-42

While in seminary, I met Barb and her husband, Sam. They were members of the congregation we plugged into. Barb was a middle school English teacher and Sam trained horses. One day, Barb casually mentioned that Pr. Ralph learned that Sam, too, had a master’s degree and when doing so, she said, Pr. Ralph’s whole attitude toward Sam shifted. The clear message was that Pr. Ralph didn’t think much of Sam, a horse trainer, until then.

I remembered that lesson, to not misjudge others, as I thought of the Samaritan woman at the well. We are in the second week of a four-week series of long vignettes in John’s Gospel. Last week, we were “in the dark” with Nicodemus, and many comparisons have been made between the two. Nicodemus is male and the Samaritan woman, of course, is female. Nicodemus is a  religious leader of the Judeans and the Samaritan woman is of lowly status. Nicodemus is  named and the Samaritan woman is unnamed. Nicodemus comes in the dark while the Samaritan woman comes in the bright heat of the day. Perhaps even more telling: Nicodemus fades into the background while the Samaritan woman gives witness to Jesus to her townspeople and of course, Nicodemus is Judean while the woman is a Samaritan.

Much has been written about enmity between Judeans and Samaritans, yet little understood. We do know that they worship the same God, Yahweh, but disagree where the proper place to do that is, Jerusalem or Mt. Gerizim. Samaria is the region just north of Judea and we think that those Judeans who were left behind during the Babylonian exile intermarried with invaders and settlers from other nations. This intermarriage was infuriating to the Judeans whose major tenet was, “do not assimilate.” Furthermore, when “pure” Judeans returned, the Samaritans tried to thwart their rebuilding effort of the temple in Jerusalem and Jerusalem itself. Finally, in 128 BC John Hyrcanus, the high priest, destroyed the shrine on Mt. Gerizim and slaughtered many people.

So, the upshot is for Jesus to be in Samaria, talking to a Samaritan, woman no less, was beyond the pale. Yet here Jesus is engaging in a complex theological argument with said Samaritan woman. Jesus not only refuses to undervalue the woman, he sees her for who she is, wounds and all. That last observation about her woundedness is important, because in the past she has suffered indignity heaped on by preachers who mistakenly brand her as a woman of ill repute. There is no warrant for this in the text.

Though we don’t know her situation, it is safe to say her multiple relationships could reasonably occur through no fault of her own and be due to a variety of reasons. But we do know that she has been wounded and finds herself in difficult circumstances. Jesus recognizes that woundedness and, rather than condemning her, treats her with respect and dignity. Indeed, like Sam the master degreed horse trainer, there is more to her than meets the eye and Jesus acknowledges such.

I wish I could say that I’m more like Jesus than Pr. Ralph, to know people are more than their circumstances, to remember that when Jesus says God loves the world it’s everyone and everything in it. But I try to remember Barb’s gentle lesson, to learn more about people, to be delighted and not surprised when I get to know them, and to look for those who we consider on the margins to see God in them. When we can do that we are at the well, drinking deeply of Jesus’ living water. Thanks be to God. Amen.

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

In the Dark - Sermon for the Second Sunday in Lent Year A

In the Dark

Lent 2A

March 5, 2023

Christ, Preston, MN

John 3.l-17

Last week we found ourselves in the wilderness with Jesus during his temptation for 40 days and 40 nights. We discovered that the wilderness can be a thin place and a time of transition or change. This week begins a sojourn of a different sort as we begin a four-week journey in John’s Gospel. And, whereas last week we were in the wilderness with Satan, this week we are in the dark with Nicodemus. Nicodemus, a religious leader, comes to see Jesus at night although we aren’t told why. Even so, he seems to be truly curious. But we wonder, is he truly seeking to understand who Jesus is and what he came to do or does he have some ulterior motive?

As Nicodemus himself has pointed out, Jesus has been doing signs, John’s word for miracles. John calls them signs because they point toward who Jesus is as God’s Word made flesh. Prior to this text, Jesus has turned water into wine during the wedding at Cana. And as we’ll see in the coming weeks, Jesus will do even more amazing signs. But for now, Jesus ignores Nicodemus’ opening greeting and launches into a speech. It’s one that confuses Nicodemus on two levels because Jesus uses a word that can mean two things. The word that means being born from above can also mean born anew or born again. Yes, that word, one that has almost become a cliche among Christians.

This is such a rich text with many preaching points, including what is meant by being “born again.” And I love John 3.17 even more than the ubiquitous John 3.16, how Jesus emphasizes that God did not send him to condemn the world, but rather out of love we didn’t ask for is sent to save us. But I keep returning to Nicodemus coming at night, a time of darkness. For John’s Jesus darkness symbolizes limited understanding if not downright inability to see Jesus for who he is.

As I reflected on the themes of nighttime and the dark, it occurred to me that things happen in the dark, and not always welcome things. At night, after a busy day where we run from one thing to the next, it is the nighttime when thoughts, regrets, and the days’ events catch up to us. We often replay these events in our head, over and over again. If this doesn’t happen when we fall asleep, it may happen when we wake in the night and we end up tossing and turning. I wonder if Nicodemus was tossing and turning or simply brooding about Jesus. However it happened, at the end of the day he needed to seek Jesus out for some answers.

As so often happens, Jesus doesn’t answer the question he is asked but rather he givesNicodemus what he needs to hear. The language Jesus uses of being born from above, born anew, or born again doesn’t refer to a conversion experience. Rather it refers to Nicodemus’ willingness to let go of his preconceived ideas about how God works in the world. Nicodemus doesn’t have a bad life, but it’s a shallow one and Jesus is encouraging Nicodemus (and us) to be grabbed by the Holy Spirit and be willing to go wherever the Spirit blows us. 

Our Fifth Graders are being grabbed by the Holy Spirit in a new way today as they receive Holy Communion. As they receive Jesus’ body and blood in, with, and under that bread and wine, they will experience the new life that Jesus promises to bring. My siblings in Christ, when the dark surrounds you, look and listen for the Spirit bringing new life. Thanks be to God. Amen.

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

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.