Stop, Look, and Listen - Sermon for Transfiguration Sunday Year C

Stop, Look, and Listen

Transfiguration C

February 27, 2022

Good Shepherd, Wells, MN

Luke 9.28-43a

In the spring of 1984, I attended the Virginia Synod assembly as a lay leader in my congregation. It was in the old LCA, Lutheran Church in America, a predecessor of our ELCA, Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. One of the practices at the synod assemblies of that time was to do ordinations of pastors. These days pastors usually are ordained in their home congregations. If you’ve never been to an ordination, they’re powerful events and this was my first. All these years later I can still vividly picture one of the newly ordained pastors serving Holy Communion and the glow on his face as he is doing so. I can still picture this because I distinctly hear God’s voice saying, “You need to be doing that.”

That was the first, last, and only time in my life that I have had such a direct experience of God. There was no mountaintop, just the river valley of Richmond, VA. There were no clouds; as far as I remember it was a sunny day. There were no heavenly visitors, only the bishop and his assistants. Yet, it was a glorious experience nonetheless. What happened after that is a longer story for another time but obviously, I became a pastor. Suffice it to say that like Peter, James, and John, the work of following God’s invitation to live out my baptismal vocation as a pastor was a long, confusing, and often painful process.

Today is Transfiguration Sunday, the bookend festival to the Baptism of Our Lord Sunday at the beginning of the season of Epiphany. You might recall a similar experience Jesus has when God spoke from the heavens and declared him as his beloved Son. Here, the heavenly voice declares Jesus as his Chosen, the one to be listened to. Transfiguration Sunday also signals the imminent arrival of Ash Wednesday and the season of Lent. There is so much going on in these two distinct, but not separate, stories that we want to dissect them and pull them apart. For example, there is no shortage of questions. How did the disciples recognize Moses and Elijah; they didn’t have name tags. And what significance do they have for the story? Why did Peter want to build three tents or dwelling places? And why didn’t they talk about their experience to the others? Why was Jesus so upset at the disciples when they couldn’t cast out the demon? I’m sure you can think of some others.

As interesting as those questions are, this is one time I think it’s best to dwell in the mystery of the text rather than trying to answer questions. Part of the mystery is noticing that only three of the disciples are privy to this experience while the rest of them are waiting down below and the next day must deal with a stubborn demon. Another part of the mystery is to notice that the mountaintop of the Transfiguration leads down through the valley of messy ministry on a road to Jerusalem and another mountaintop called Calvary where a cross awaits Jesus.

As I live in the mystery of the Transfiguration and the casting out of the demon with the tension between the two, it occurs to me that we are being encouraged to stop, look, and listen to Jesus. Gospel-writer Luke may be telling us that experiences of God’s presence in the world don’t always come in bright, shiny, mountaintop revelations but rather in the messiness of everyday life.In fact, for most of us except for a select few, that’s where God most often shows up to work.

But like Peter, we often get so caught up in our own stuff and so focused on life that we don’t see God’s presence. We pitch a tent and don’t see. So, this Lenten season I invite you to stop what you are doing from time to time, look around you with the eyes of your heart, and listen for Jesus’ voice, calling you into a deeper walk with him. On Wednesdays during Lent we’ll explore God’s invitation to Sabbath and what it might mean for our life of faith. Then on Sundays we’ll journey to the cross with Jesus and his disciples, exploring what it means for Jesus to give his life for us. I hope you can join us for both. But either way, know that God is with you, cherishing both the mountaintops and valleys of your lives. Amen.

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

Measure for Measure - Sermon for the Seventh Sunday after Pentecost Year C

Measure for Measure

Epiphany 7C

February 20, 2022

Good Shepherd, Wells, MN

Luke 6.27-38

Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful … for the measure you give will be the measure you get back.”

Jesus has some challenging words for us today, but I have some caveats before I reflect with you on what they might mean for us. First, Jesus is not tolerating abusive situations nor is he telling us that we need to stay in them. We are not to be doormats for people to walk on. Second, Jesus is not saying that we should let injustices go and turn our backs on oppression. In fact, in some ways Jesus is saying the opposite, that we need to stand up to the “way of the world,” but that we need to do it with countercultural radical love that takes sin seriously.

Today I want to reflect on why Jesus is advocating for this radical love but I want to do so from a personal perspective. Walt Kelly drew a cartoon strip called “Pogo” that ran from 1948-1975. “Pogo” was set in the Okefenokee Swamp and it featured an opossum named Pogo. In one famous strip, Pogo is walking through the swamp with his porcupine friend Porkypine, and both are complaining about their hurt feet. The last panel shows why they have had trouble walking. There is garbage strewn through the swamp, making it look like a junkyard. In what is now an iconic line, Pogo observed, “We have met the enemy and he is us.”

Jesus says some radical things about loving our enemies, doing good to those who hate us, showing mercy, not expecting anything in return, and the measure we receive will be the measure we get. To riff on another story in Luke, we might ask, “Who is our enemy?” We might  be surprised at the same one that Pogo discerned: “It is us.” What do I mean that the enemy is us? I think Jesus is challenging us to consider what happens to us when we don’t love, forgive, show mercy, do good and expect nothing in return. In her book, Traveling Mercies, Anne Lamott writes that withholding forgiveness from someone is like drinking rat poison and then expecting the rat to die. In other words, hurting others in kind hurts us in return, maybe more so.

Many of you know I went to Gustavus Adolphus College. One of Gustavus’ symbols is three crowns, arranged in a triangular shape. Not surprisingly, they used to make a lapel pin with the three crowns symbol. One day, I was talking with someone from Gustavus who was wearing that pin and I commented on it. Unbeknown to me, the tradition was that if you were wearing that pin and someone commented on it, you were to take it off and pin it on the commenter. Much to my embarrassment, the person did so and I now have that pin. Aside from the embarrassment, here’s the even yuckier part: I never wear the pin anymore because I don’t want to give it up when someone comments on it. I’m drinking rat poison.

I fear for our society, how what should be civil discourse is becoming more uncivilized. It’s not just on social media, where people intentionally troll others with the goal of stirring up hate and discord. School board and city council meetings have turned into free-for-alls, TV is filled with smack talk. It even happens in our churches where pastors are leaving ministry in record numbers. Yet, even as I despair the fraying fabric of our society, I wonder what it is doing to our inner life. Every time I think about clinging to that three crowns pin, every time I react inappropriately to the driver of a car, every time I want to write a blistering Facebook post, I drink more rat poison and my inner life diminishes.

In the early 1600s, Shakespeare wrote the play Measure for Measure, quoting from Jesus’ sermon in today’s gospel reading. The title has a double meaning. First, a despicable character who was meting out a deadly “measure” to another character finds himself on the receiving end of a similar “measure.” It was going to be “tit for tat” and the character was going to “get it.” But before that can happen, a different “measure” was given to the despicable person, this one a measure of forgiveness and mercy. Shakespeare, through his characters, understood which “measure for measure” is life-giving and which are not. Do we drink the rat poison or not?

This is not easy and none of us gets it perfectly. Even Joseph in our Genesis reading, who forgives his brothers and is able to see God working through the misery they inflicted upon him, toys with them first. If he doesn’t drink the rat poison he sips it from time to time. Yet ultimately and fortunately, Joseph knows that God is present through the worst life throws at us and works for his purposes. Furthermore, God gives us strength to forgo the rat poison by eating and drinking something better. As you come to the table of Holy Communion today, receive that strength in the full measure of God’s mercy and grace. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful … for the measure you give will be the measure you get back. Amen.

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

Favored or Fated? - Sermon for the Sixth Sunday after Epiphany Year C

Favored or Fated?

Epiphany 6C

February 13, 2022

Good Shepherd, Wells, MN

Luke 6.17-26

This past week I’ve thought deeply about who I am and where I stand in today’s Gospel reading from Luke. I have wondered, am I one of the blessed ones that Jesus mentions or am I one of those who are to expect woe? During this time of Epiphany, Jesus has been revealed to us in many ways. On the Baptism of Our Lord Sunday he was shown to be the Beloved Son of God in his baptism. The next week we discovered that he was a worker of signs at the wedding at Cana by turning water into wine. Then Jesus was one in whom Isaiah’s prophecy to bring good news to the poor, liberty to the captives, and the year of the Lord’s favor has been fulfilled and one who gets the hometown folk angry for enlarging the circle too far of who is in and who is out. Finally, last week, Jesus is the one who produces a miraculous abundance of fish and calls disciples to follow him without actually calling them.

Today Jesus is revealed as one who draws huge crowds, made up of an inner circle now called apostles, a larger circle of disciples, and even Gentiles who have traveled great distances to be healed and hear God’s word proclaimed. Jesus’ words, known in Luke as the “Sermon on the Plain,” are aimed mostly at the first two groups, but clearly the latter group of outsiders would overhear what he has to say about discipleship in God’s kingdom. It’s important to note the difference between Matthew’s “Sermon on the Mount” and this “Sermon on the Plain” in Luke. Here, Jesus is not on a mountain (a place of revelation in the Bible) but a level place and is standing as he teaches, not sitting (attitude of authority).

But the main difference is that Jesus is not spiritualizing the Beatitudes (or Blessings) as he does in Matthew’s Gospel. Rather, Jesus is expounding real-world conditions: here he talking about the actual poor vs. Matthew’s poor in spirit and actual hunger vs. hunger for righteousness’ sake. In fact, this week (and next) Jesus will be expanding on the mission statement from three weeks ago when he stated that Isaiah’s prophecy has been fulfilled. Similarly, Luke’s Jesus adds four “Woes” to counterbalance the four “Blesseds.” The effect on us is to shift the question from, “In what way am I blessed?” to “Am I one of the blessed ones or do I invite woe into my life because of my life situation?”

One way forward in contemplating these questions is to recognize that the words used for blessed and woe are imperfect and inadequate translations into the English. Some translators use “Happy” instead of “Blessed,” but I don’t think that helps. Instead, I prefer “Fortunate” or “Favored” and “Look out!” instead of “Woe.” You see, using the word blessed implies that being poor, hungry, etc. is a good thing. But when we use the words fortunate or favored it denotes that God sees these folk who are often overlooked and marginalized. Similarly, using the phrase, “Look out!” helps us understand that Jesus is warning us that the things we consider to be good (and they are) can give us a false sense of security. We need to beware relying on ourselves instead of relying on God.

So, how does that help us as we try to find ourselves in this text and what Jesus is saying to us? To use the mnemonic device in the sermon title, do you see yourselves as favored or fated? I always teach my Confirmation students a way to answer this kind of either/or question: Yes! Notice that Jesus doesn’t address the four blessings to some of the people and the four woes to others. This is not a sheep or goats kind of sorting that is done elsewhere; this is a description of the human condition. In other words, at many times in our lives, we are empty and needy and at other times we are cocky and full of ourselves.

Finally, note that Jesus’ words today are descriptive, not prescriptive. In other words, Jesus is not telling us what to do, he is telling us something important about ourselves and the values found in God’s kingdom. Next week, we’ll hear more from the Sermon on the Plain about the challenging way of Jesus we are to follow as his disciples. For now, know that wherever you happen to be, whenever you happen to be there, God sees you, is present to your lives and challenges you because God loves you and gives you life. Amen.

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

Yet, If You Say So - Sermon for the Fifth Sunday after Epiphany Year C

Yet, If You Say So

Epiphany 5C

February 6, 2022

Good Shepherd, Wells, MN

Luke 5.1-11

“Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.”

Many of you know that I was in the business world for 16 years, most of those with a company called Minnesota Fabrics. When I was in that world, we’d have regular managers conferences and meetings, typically in a resort setting. We’d be able to get away, talk with colleagues, rest and play, learn and be inspired. We’d usually hear from experts in management who would be part motivational and part content oriented so that they were able to say things in a way we could hear. Yet, as I think back about it, I realize they were saying the same things our leadership had been trying to say, but in a different way. It proves the adage that an expert is someone more than 50 miles away who is not of your organization.

Jesus is no expert fisherman, but he is motivational and an expert in discipleship and he convinces Peter to let down his nets and try fishing again. Peter, James, and John have been fishing all night. (By the way, where is Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother? And what about Zebedee, the father of James and John? Has he handed over the family business to his sons? My experience of men who do so don’t lie on a Mediterranean beach somewhere but rather still keep their hands and noses in the business.) Anyway, they are exhausted (you can hear the weariness in Peter’s voice) and want to go home to bed. Yet Peter humors Jesus, perhaps just to shut him up. First, he takes him out so he can teach to the crowds and then he casts his net in a place he’s just tried earlier to no avail.

Lo and behold, the results are beyond remarkable, an abundance of fish that only God could provide. What’s more remarkable is that the three leave everything and follow Jesus, without being asked. Even considering the heavy taxes the occupying Roman government levies, it would set them up quite nicely. But it’s those words of Peter’s, “Yet, if you say so …” that have been working on me this week. In particular, what strikes me is the reality that, as theologian Debi Thomas says, “we all live in the gap between weariness and hope, defeat and faith, resignation and obedience.”

Organizations, whether they are businesses or churches, often get stuck as they try to move into the future because someone shuts down good ideas. They do so by saying things like, “We’ve never done it that way before.” Or, just as deadly (or more so) is the response, “We’ve tried that before and it didn’t work.” You can hear the exhaustion and frustration in that response along with the desire to be faithful. As Thomas would say, between weariness and hope, defeat and faith, resignation and obedience. What I would want to ask is, “What did you learn when you tried it?” and “Was God in it?”

There are three things I’d like to mention briefly that might guide us as we discern God’s calling into the future. First, God usually comes to us in the midst of the ordinary in life, into our everyday existence. We tend to look for God in the big stuff, and God does big stuff, but usually it’s in the small things. Jesus shows up in the midst of Peter’s everyday work world and does something amazing. Second, God doesn’t ask us to leave our expertise, abilities and skills behind, but rather bring them with us. True, God is going to invite us to be stretched and grow in new ways, but with the gifts we have. Jesus tells Peter to bring his expertise with him, but we know that Peter will be asked time and again to step out of his comfort zone.

Finally, God encourages us with the words, “Do not be afraid,” which may sound impossible to us. It might help to not think of this as a command, but rather an invitation. In my experience, commands are almost impossible to obey. (For example, stop thinking about pink elephants! You can’t do it, can you? You’re welcome.) Rather, Jesus is inviting us into a new way of life, a new way of being in relationship with him. Part of that relationship is asking what God is up to and where God is leading us. 

Good Shepherd Lutheran Church is in a period of transition, one made more difficult by the exhaustion we feel because of the pandemic. It has taken a toll on our leadership and created uncertainty for the future. We are between weariness and hope, defeat and faith, resignation and obedience. So, Jesus’ words bring encouragement and strength today: “Do not be afraid.” As you come forward for Holy Communion, put out our hands to receive Jesus’ body and blood in, with, and under the bread and wine, be strengthened to respond, “Yet, if you say so.” Amen.

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

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

Killing Jesus

Epiphany 4C

January 30, 2022

Good Shepherd, Wells, MN

Luke 4.21-30

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What Do You Hear?

Epiphany 3C

January 23, 2022

Good Shepherd, Wells, MN

Luke 4.14-21

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Glimpse of Glory

Epiphany 2C

January 16, 2022

Good Shepherd, Wells, MN

John 2.1-11

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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