What Is This? - Sermon for the Fourth Sunday after Epiphany

What Is This?
Epiphany 4B
January 31, 2021
Grace, Waseca, MN
Mark 1.21-28

 Like many teenagers, I did some babysitting, mostly for the “O’Brien girls” across the street from our house. One night, to occupy the time after they were asleep and before the parents came home, I read a book, The Exorcist. The Exorcist is about the demonic possession of an 11-year-old girl and two Catholic priests who try to cast out the evil spirit. Now, I don’t know what possessed me (pardon the pun) to read such a book alone and late at night, but I guess I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Perhaps it was a fascination with “otherworldly” things. I would I would indulge that fascination more than in a decade later as a young adult, reading such things as The Search for Bridey Murphy and This Present Darkness.

 In Mark’s Gospel, Jesus’ first official ministerial act after calling the disciples is to confront the powers that stand against God by casting out an unclean spirit. In the Gospels, these are also known as evil spirits or demons. My guess is that this hardly seems relevant to many of you. For those of us with Western mindsets, we tend to minimize such things as demons, equating them with mental illness. And it’s probably true that much of what was “diagnosed” as demonic was mental illness. Even so, it is interesting that while 80% of Americans believe in angels, only 45% believe in demons, regardless of our fascination for books such as The Exorcist, et al.

 As a psychology major in college, I might have said the same things, had it not been for the dreams. They didn’t happen a lot, but when the dreams came, they were vivid and horrifying. I tried to yell and cast out the demon in the name of Jesus, but couldn’t. I tried to turn back the devil by reciting the Lord’s Prayer, but I couldn’t speak. Somewhere along the way and after entering seminary I did what I failed to do in Confirmation: I memorized parts of the Small Catechism, including Luther’s Morning Prayer and Evening Prayer. They go something like this:

 I give thanks to you, heavenly Father, through Jesus Christ your dear Son, that you have protected me through the night from all danger and harm. And I ask that you would preserve and keep me this day also from all sin and evil, that in all my thoughts, words, and deeds I would serve and please you. Into your hands I commend my body and soul and all that is mine. Let your holy angels have charge concerning me and the wicked on have no power over me. Amen.

 I give thanks to you, heavenly Father, through Jesus Christ your dear Son, that you have so graciously protected me this day. I ask that you would forgive me all my sins and all the wrong I have done and by your great mercy defend me from all perils and dangers of the night. Into your hands I commend my body and soul and all that is mine. Let your holy angels have charge concerning and the wicked one no power over me. Amen.

 I also began reciting them first thing in the morning and last thing at night. At some point I realized that since then, I have not had one single dream where I’ve been assaulted by the powers of darkness.

 Now, I’m not superstitious (except that I play sports so I’m kind of superstitious) and don’t think of these prayers as a magic talisman, but they calm me. They remind me to put my trust in God, who through Jesus Christ on the cross defeated the powers of darkness that stand against God. A story about Martin Luther helps. Legend has it that Luther had these heroic bouts with the devil and one night threw an inkpot at him, splattering against a wall. (You can still see it in Germany. I think they might touch it up now and then for the tourists as it fades.) Luther came to realize that, because of Jesus, wherever the devil was, God was even closer. That story brings a great comfort to me as well.

 We have a lot of “unclean spirits” in this world that threaten to overwhelm us and aren’t difficult to name: substance abuse, violence, racism, hunger, divisiveness, unhealthy conflict, etc. They are serious and not to be taken lightly, but neither are we without hope or recourse. We are reminded in the baptismal liturgy that we renounce the powers of this world that stand against God and as baptized children of God we affirm that God is working in the world to heal it.

 Today following worship we’ll have our annual meeting, an opportunity to look back over the past year and see where God has been working in, with and through you in this congregation. It’s also a chance to get a peek at what God might be up to in this coming year, one of great possibilities as you call your next senior pastor. But it’s more than financials, budgets and reports, as important as those are. It is also a chance to name the spirits present among us, clean and unclean, where the Holy Spirit is calling us to go and those spirits that stand against God’s purposes in the world. In doing so, we do what God has called us to do: claim the presence of Christ crucified and risen, who brings life out of death. Thanks be to God! Amen.

To view the video of this sermon, please click here.

Clearly, Dearly, and Nearly - Sermon for the Second Sunday after Epiphany

Clearly, Dearly, and Nearly
Epiphany 2B
January 17, 2021
Grace, Waseca, MN
John 1.43-51; 1 Samuel 3.1-20; Psalm 139; 1 Corinthians 6.12-20

“As Samuel grew up, the Lord was with him and let none of his words fall to the ground”
Do you not know that the body is a temple of the Holy Spirit? 
“Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!” 
“Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;”

Near the end of 2020, a question was posed to me that I thought deeply about: “How have you grown spiritually this past year?” Now, I’m all for spiritual growth and the term is one I’ve tossed around quite freely. Yet, the question stopped me in my tracks. What does spiritual growth mean and how would I know if I’ve grown spiritually? How would I measure it? Is there some kind of spiritual door frame that one can stand up against and mark off progress like you do for your height? Is spiritual growth like good (or bad) art: you know it when you see it?

Would it be that we were like the young boy, Samuel, who hears God’s voice clearly and unambiguously! Would it be that we were the Apostle Paul who knows that he contains within himself the Holy Spirit! Would it be that we were like the disciples Philip and Nathanael who come and see Jesus doing amazing things! Would it be that we were like the Psalmist who has such an intimate relationship with the Creator God! And what does it mean in our "Godspell" Prayer of the Day to know Jesus more clearly, love him more dearly, and to follow him more nearly, day by day?

I posed my questions in a colleague meeting and Outreach Team meeting this week with a robust conversation. One thought that came out is that spiritual growth means doing more in the marks of discipleship, practices that help us grow in faith: in other words, more praying, more worshiping, more Bible reading, more serving, more giving, and paying more attention to relationships. Another thought had to do with seeing more fruit of the Spirit that Paul talks about in Galatians: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. These sounded like great answers, but the analytical in me kept asking: how do you measure?

I began to wonder if this is a case where asking the question is more important than any answer. And I also wondered if this is a case when doing less may be more important than doing more, that in fact doing less may actually be doing more.

Then I thought back to a conversation I had with my spiritual director recently where I was reflecting that we’d been at this well over four years since my sabbatical in 2016. Without prompting, she said, “You’ve grown a lot in those four years.” Wait. What? Skeptical, I pushed her to explain. “You’ve been willing to do the necessary inner work.” She went on to explain the things she saw in me that I wasn’t able to see in myself.

But my conversations with my spiritual director, colleagues, and team members says two things: First, others may see growth in you that you don’t see (and vice versa). Second, the care and feeding of our inner life comes before our outer life. In another place Jesus says, “Behold, the Kingdom of God is within you.” Perhaps we should be talking about nurturing our spirits instead of growing them, to cultivate an inner space where that can happen.

My brothers and sisters, I’m aware that my ruminations may provoke feelings of guilt or shame, but that is not my intention. Remember that you are a beloved child of God on a life-long journey of exploration. God wants you to be the very best possible version of who God created you to be and invites you into continuing this never-ending living, loving relationship that began in your baptism. Listen to God’s voice through those closest to you and be God’s voice to those you love. Explore the presence of God within to know the one who died so you might live, to know him more clearly, love him more dearly, and follow more nearly, day by day. Amen.

To watch the video of this sermon click here.

The First Word - Sermon for the Second Sunday of Christmas

The First Word
Christmas 2B
January 3, 2021
Grace, Waseca, MN
John 1.1-5, 9-14, 16-18

As an undergraduate at Gustavus Adolphus College, I belonged to a fraternity, Epsilon Pi Alpha, also known as the “Eppies.” Although I might have thought twice about it once I learned what the initiation involved. But, that’s another story for another day. Perhaps because of that and my refusal to be involved in the hazing, I wasn’t taken seriously by the leadership. Fast forward to my senior year when a discussion arose about our yearly picture. The day scheduled by the yearbook folk was going to leave a lot of members out and this caused no small amount of consternation.

After a while, I calmly raised my hand and when finally acknowledged simply said, “Why don’t we take two pictures, one for the yearbook and one for us?” The stunned silence spoke volumes of my place in the frat. Apparently, my unwillingness to go along with their brutality marked me as incompetent, but this simple but elegant solution opened their eyes to see me in a new way.

Apparently, Jesus had a similar problem, which the Gospel writer John takes pains to correct. “He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him.”  Here we have John’s version of the Christmas story, stripped of all the familiar elements. Yet what John’s Gospel lacks in shepherds, mangers, swaddling cloths, wisemen, and angels he makes up for in poetic majesty. Boiled down he wants us to know something important: “You think Christmas came with Jesus’ birth? Guess again; it was long before that.”

We tend to think that Jesus was God’s answer to the problem of sin; there is truth in that thought. Because of Jesus’ birth, life, death and resurrection, we are reconciled to God and have life through him. But, as theologian Rob Bell reminds us, Jesus is so much more than a solution to sin. Jesus was the Logos that was present before creation and through whom God created everything there is. Another theologian, Richard Rohr, points out that all creation is infused with the divine presence.

My guess is most of you have packed up your Christmas things, not even waiting to the official end of the Christmas season, January 5, probably because you’ve had them up since Thanksgiving. I’m pretty sure you’re not alone; the stores have had Valentine’s Day stuff out since the day after. (By the way, did you know that the early church didn’t even start celebrating Christmas until 300 years after Jesus’ death, even though they celebrated the resurrection almost immediately?) (And why is it that Christmas gets just a lousy 12 days? Even Advent is longer.)

Both Bell and Rohr point to something John’s Gospel takes seriously: Christmas isn’t just about what happened 2,000 years ago in Bethlehem and even not just at the beginning of time. God takes an intimate relationship with us so seriously that God has baked relationships into creation. God is not the same as creation, but God is fully present to everything God has made. Richard Rohr again: “God loves things by becoming them” and “the problem [of sin] was solved from the beginning.” There arose a saying in the early church: “The finite is capable of bearing the infinite.” And so with Martin Luther, we know we can find God in the waters of baptism, the bread and wine of Holy Communion, the Word of Scripture, and Christ’s Body, the community of believers.

Yet there’s more, because God always gives more. Another, more recent poet, Elizabeth Barret Browning says it this way: “Earth is crammed with heaven, and every bush is aflame with the glory of God. But only those who see take off their shoes; the rest just pick the berries.” So, my brothers and sisters in Christ, can we daily take off our shoes and see God in, with and through all creation? Maybe, as a reminder, you can wake up each day and say, “Merry Christmas!” For the Word is in the world, full of grace and truth, bringing light and life to all, and creation sings the Father’s song. Amen.

For the worship service video, click here.

Can I Get a Witness? - Sermon for the Third Sunday of Advent

Nothing Will Be Impossible with God: Can I Get a Witness?
Advent 3B
December 13, 2020
Grace, Waseca, MN
John 1.6-8, 19-28

One of the things I miss most about not gathering in-person for worship is singing together. What a joy to be surrounded by the various voices, praising God, and testifying to God’s love. I miss the beautiful harmonizing of the choir, Cornerstone, HHB and other gifted musicians at Grace. I even miss people like me who unabashedly “make a joyful noise to the Lord” and don’t flinch doing it. Whether we are in tune or out, whether on the beat or slightly off, we confess God’s faithfulness together with our voices.

Maybe that’s one of many reasons I love the Bible, for its various voices, some of which sound slightly off-key. Our lessons today are a chorus of such voices giving witness to God through Jesus Christ. The prophet Isaiah proclaims good news to a weary people, promising a “mantle of praise” for them to wear. In his letter to the Thessalonians, the apostle Paul encourages rejoicing, continual prayer, and unending gratitude for a similarly weary people who are discouraged because Jesus has not returned as they had hoped. And then the psalmist talks about mouths filled with laughter and joy because the Lord has delivered them from some danger.

Then, of course, we have John. I have to admit that, as I looked at this Gospel reading, I groaned, “Not John again!” Why is it that John the Baptizer gets two (half) of the four Sundays of Advent? That’s especially aggravating since we seem to have another version of Mark’s story from last week. But, as I worked with the text (and remembered that John is my favorite Gospel) I came to appreciate the different perspective John brings to us and to Jesus as the light.

This John whom we know as “The Baptizer,” is here instead declared as “The Witness.” The Gospel goes to great lengths to make sure we know that John is not the Messiah, the Light that shines in the darkness, but is a voice in the wilderness that points and testifies to the Light. The word, “witness” and its variations appear over 50 times in this Gospel. And though witness often relates to what Jesus has done, it more often describes who Jesus is and what he means to us.

It is tempting to be another voice that encourages you to confess, bear witness and testify to Jesus as the Light. Yet, during a time of year when we are especially overwhelmed with doing, or not doing as the case may be, I want to assure you that you are already a part of the earthly chorus giving voice to God’s love. There is no choir that will have me as a member, for good reason, but because of my baptism there is no church that can refuse the presence of my voice, however articulated. Nor will yours be refused, either.

I do want to invite you, as you revel in beautifully rendered songs, to listen for the voices that are singing just slightly differently, like John the Witness, who consider a different view of God than you might be used to. It is very often those who stretch our musical and theological imaginations that help us grow in understanding of God’s love through Jesus. Meanwhile, “Arise, Your Light Has Come,” as we witness together in song, the Light of the World. Amen.

To view the sermon in a video click here.

Nothing Will Be Impossible with God: When Things Get Revealed - Sermon for the 1st Sunday of Advent

Nothing Will Be Impossible with God: When Things Get Revealed
Advent 1B

November 29, 2020

Grace, Waseca, MN

Mark 13.24-37

Keep awake! Beware, keep alert! our Gospel reading from Mark warns, with menacing overtones. As I get older. whether it’s Advent or not, staying awake and being alert become harder and harder. In the midst of a pandemic, even without contracting the virus, circumstances seem to suck the very life out of me like an insatiable parasite. Getting through the day is a major accomplishment. I wish I were one of those who have done much with the down time, but it’s not been that way for me, not that I’ve had any real down time. Keep awake, indeed.

Jesus’ words in Mark don’t help much. After Jesus’ relentless end-time parables in Matthew’s Gospel with all the eternal punishment and weeping and gnashing teeth, a little, hopeful reprieve in Mark would be nice. Not today. Now, I understand that the task of the First Sunday of Advent is to remind us that the Jesus who came as a baby in Bethlehem will come again at the end of time. Even so, this doesn’t seem good news. It looks like Jesus is piling on in the midst of a weary world where we’re all simply trying to keep it together. Why keep awake for that?

Ironically, that’s the opposite effect Jesus intends with this apocalyptic imagery in Mark. The images of darkening sun, dimming moon, falling stars, and shaking heavens sound a lot like Revelation or parts of Daniel. But then we are reminded what apocalyptic texts are for. Though these weird texts seem to predict tumultuous end-times, they are really meant to function more about encouragement in the present times. The word apocalypse means to reveal. As such, the purpose of apocalyptic texts is to reveal who really is in control: God.

None of us are where we want to be this Advent. We aren’t with our loved ones celebrating the holidays. We aren’t in school or at work in the way we’re used to. We won’t be in church singing “Silent Night” surrounded by our friends and family as we do every year. The list goes on. We tend to hear the message of Advent as, “God is coming; look busy!” But I wonder if this Advent might be more about being than it is about doing.

Those first followers of Jesus knew that life is uncertain and chaotic. They were under the thumb of an oppressive government and will experience the destruction of the temple resulting in their scattering to the winds. We have certainly been reminded of how quickly and how much life can change. Yet, Jesus vividly reminds us that it is in precisely these chaotic times when God reveals God’s self in remarkable ways. I like the words of Adrienne Brown, “Things are not getting worse, they are getting uncovered. We must hold each other tight and pull back the veil.” During Advent we are to see where God is revealing God’s self to us.

Today we begin the sermon series, “Nothing Will Be Impossible with God,” echoing the angel’s words to Mary at the Annunciation that we’ll hear in a few weeks. The subtheme for today is, “When Things Get Revealed.” The theme poses a question for us: what at Grace is God revealing to us? I’m not going to answer it for you, at least not completely. I do want you to entertain the idea that God is revealing opportunities for ministry. You see, regardless of the pandemic or anything else that disrupts your life, we are still church and evidence to the contrary, God is still with us. A blessed Advent as you simply be God’s children for whom God is still very much present and reveals opportunities to join with God in loving and blessing this world. That’s worth staying awake for. Amen.

For the video version of today's sermon, click here.

"Buried Alive" - Sermon for the Twenty-Fourth Sunday after Pentecost

Buried Alive
Pentecost 24A – Stewardship Commitment Sunday
November 15, 2020
Grace, Waseca, MN
Matthew 25.14-30

Public theologian and pastor David Lose has likened the Bible to a scrapbook, something with a lot of different material and stories. As we look through scrapbooks of our lives, we may wonder why we keep things in there, what stories they tell, and why we keep retelling them. The same could be said about the stuff in the Bible: why did we keep some of these things and what are the stories behind them? That’s why we read the Bible in community, so that each of us can compare notes with others about what we think the meaning of a particular story is. This is certainly true for Jesus’ parables, which seem like crazy Uncle Charlie’s pointless ramblings that confound us more than they enlighten us.

“Crazy Uncle Jesus” doesn’t help us much with his “weeping and gnashing of teeth” rants in Matthew. Jesus uses this phrase almost exclusively. Though it seems to generate fear, I think it is meant to do the opposite. At the risk of mixing metaphors, I think that “weeping and gnashing of teeth” is Jesus’ 1st century version of texting in all caps: he’s telling us to PAY ATTENTION – THIS IS IMPORTANT! So, what’s so important that Jesus is trying to get our attention? My take is that, as we follow him, we aren’t to live in fear. Instead, Jesus wants us to take risks for the sake of God’s mission and ministry. Jesus doesn’t want us to do what the religious leaders did, bury God’s abundant gifts in the mistaken notion of protecting them.

It’s estimated that a talent was worth about 15 years’ wages for the average worker. Using the minimum wage today I calculated that to be about $500,000, but I’ve heard estimates as high as $1.5 million. (As an aside, in fact, our English word talent, meaning gift or ability, is from this Greek word for money.) So even with one talent and splitting the distance at $1 million, the third slave was given an enormous gift to manage. The gift was a reflection of the trust the master had in the slave. Even so, the third slave’s view of his master is arguably skewed. His depiction of his master as vengeful, which is not shared by the first two, probably says more about the slave than it does his master. It is this baseless fear that causes him to bury both the talent and himself.

As I get older, I look back and see what where God’s Spirit has led me to take faithful risks. For instance, I rededicated my life to Christ as a young man after many years spend outside the church. As a newlywed, I agreed with my wife to tithe (give 10%) of our income to God’s work through the church. Later, at 38 years old, with that same wife and now two young daughters we sold our house for me to answer God’s call to seminary to become a pastor. And 10 years after that to return to seminary to work on a doctorate. It’s true that I hope one day for God to say, “Well done good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of your master,” but it’s more true that I trust God who entrusted me with so much that I felt compelled to give back. I’m not the hero in the story; God is the hero, the one who guided me.

Today is Stewardship Commitment Sunday as we make our giving intentions for next year. Our theme has been “Together in Grace: What’s Your Sanctuary?” During the campaign, we’ve invited you to ponder where you have seen God at work in your life, especially in this time of pandemic. To do so, we’ve had three excellent temple talks: Brett Prescher, who found his sanctuary working with the Outreach Team; Larry Draheim, who talked about seeing God through his work with Grace’s Food Shelf; and Twylla Vetsch, who found sanctuary working with our young people in faith formation and who described the blessing of doing Simply Giving, ensuring that money for God’s mission and ministry would always be at Grace, even if she and Jeff couldn’t. Additionally, we’ve been comforted by the words of Jeremiah 29, assured of God’s promise of a “future with hope.” We trust that these words will strengthen you as you complete your Statement of Intent.

Meanwhile, as you ponder how God is inviting you to “risk faithfully, listen to the special Musical Offering by Robin Menk, “Before You I Kneel (A Workers Prayer)*,” especially the last verse: 

 

May we live the gospel of Your grace, 

Serve Your purpose in our fleeting days,

Then our lives will bring eternal praise

And all glory to Your great name. 

Amen.

*Words and Music by Keith and Kristyn Getty, Jeff Taylor, and Stuart Townend

To watch a video of the worship service including the sermon, click here.

"Blessed Are the Peacemakers" - Sermon for All Saints Sunday Year A

Blessed Are the Peacemakers

All Saints A

November 1, 2020

Grace, Waseca, MN

Matthew 5.1-12

The contentiousness following the death of Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg reminded me of the previous death of another Justice in January 2016, Antonin Scalia. It wasn’t the contentiousness of the ensuing nomination process that jogged my memory. Rather, what I remembered was how devastated Bader Ginsburg was over Scalia’s death. Though the two were polar opposites in judicial philosophy and clashed often, they were also close friends and had been since the 1980s. Among other things, they shared a love of opera.

Judges are called upon to be peacemakers in a world that is increasingly litigious and contentious. Into this world, we hear Jesus’ voice: “Blessed are the peacemakers,” he says, “for they will be called children of God.” It’s helpful to know that when Jesus goes up on a mountain, the mountain was typically a place of revelation from God. And when he sits down, he assumes the position of an authoritative teacher, in this case one like Moses. Jesus is signaling that something important is about to happen. Indeed, what follows is the first of five large blocks of teaching in Matthew’s Gospel, what we have come to know as “Sermon on the Mount.” In this sermon, particularly what we call the Beatitudes, Jesus gives us a vision of God’s kingdom. It’s a vision not just for the future but also for today.

Now, it’s also important that when we hear Jesus say, “Blessed” we need to hear something else besides our modern American religious use of the term. We tend to think of blessings as good things that happen to us or of material possessions we have. Indeed, these may be blessings, but that’s not what Jesus means. Rather, God’s favor (of blessedness) is bestowed on people who we don’t think of as blessed: the humble, poor in spirit, mourners, sufferers of persecution and injustice, or slogging away for peace in the midst of violence. In these examples of blessedness, we get a glimpse of God’s “Core Values,” values that are different than those our world holds.

Clearly, one of those core values is to be a peacemaker or, if we aren’t able to make peace, to at least support those who are trying. It’s vital to know that Jesus is talking about the Jewish concept of shalom, which goes beyond our normal understanding of peace as the time between wars or the absence of conflict. Shalom has a deeper sense of well-being for all creation, to experience the fullness of God’s gifts. It’s the peace we experience when look at the sunset over a lake or connect with another person in a fulfilling way.

Make no mistake, we know all too well that peacemaking is hard, painstaking and often unsuccessful work. There is no how-to manual for doing it. Yet, to paraphrase Mother Teresa, we “…do it anyway” because we are children of God. This is exemplified by German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who wrote “The Cost of Discipleship,” based upon the Sermon on the Mount. In the section on the Beatitudes, specifically peacemaking, Bonhoeffer denounced violence, declared that we should choose suffering, and overcome evil with good. Yet in the face of Naziism, Bonhoeffer found himself caught up in a plot to assassinate Adolf Hitler. He would face martyrdom for his faith and actions.

Today is All Saints Sunday when we remember those who have died in the past year. It’s also a time to remember that to be a saint doesn’t just mean to be good, though it can. It doesn’t just mean being dead and it doesn’t mean dying for your faith like Bonhoeffer. It’s a time to remember that each of us has been set aside in our baptism for God’s purposes. We know that Jesus is not saying “be peacemakers so you can get heaven’s reward.” The grace of God’s acceptance is already ours and it is that grace which propels us to kingdom work.

Through the cross, Jesus has made peace with our brokenness and death so we can make peace. This congregation has experienced significant conflict and the Discovery Team has ample evidence that many of you desire unity and peace. That sounds like your next senior pastor would have some gifts for handling conflict. For now, please know that in our divisive and contentious world, Jesus invites you to follow the way of Scalia and Bader Ginsburg, not to mention Mother Teresa, Martin Luther Kind, Gandhi, Nelson Mandela, Bonhoeffer and many others to work for peace or support those who do, for you are the children of God. Amen.

To watch this sermon in the worship service click here.