Third Sunday after the Epiphany

1 Corinthians 12:12-31

In my Grand Forks family we coordinate our calendars by birthdays.  We try to get together to celebrate each person’s birthday, and at that party we plan…when is the next birthday?  How long until we can have a party again?  Will we see each other in between?

In the church our calendar is strung like lights along the string of Holy Days.  There are the big ones: Advent/Christmas/Epiphany, Lent/Easter, Pentecost.  And enough little ones between to keep us moving along:  Baptism of Christ, Transfiguration, Trinity, Reign of Christ.  January is a “between time” after Christmas and before Lent.  In our frozen part of the world, it feels like “in between” as we all hunker down in warm places and minimize the times we have to venture out.  Add Covid to the mix and more and more of us are isolating at home and maybe feeling lonely.

It's a gift that this year the cold between is filled with the scripture from 1 Corinthians that tells us we all matter and we’re all connected to each other.  Nell and Neil have done a great job of helping us step into these scriptures and hear their messages with new ears.  Today we take one more step and remember how interconnected we all are.

Paul uses the image of the human body to talk about community.  The body has many parts, just like any group of people – a family, a workplace, a school, a church.  It takes ears and eyes and noses and hands to make everything work well.  It takes cheeks for kissing and other cheeks for sitting.  Paul reminds us that each one is essential, even if some are better known or more visible.   Some of us have parts missing (spleen, gall bladder, appendix, thyroid).  When something is missing, the rest of the body has to compensate for that.  When some skill is missing in a community, we all have to compensate.

In our little church we’ve learned not to try to fit the parts into some ideal called “church.”  We don’t have enough parts to do everything that much larger churches do.  Instead we fit “church” into the pieces we have.  We build what we do on the skills and the interests of the folks who are here.  We have cooks, so we cook.  We have sewers and crafters, so we crochet blankets and make quilts.  We have musicians, so we enjoy their music.  We have handy-folk, so we do some of our repair work.  We don’t have many kids on Sundays, so we have kids programs on Wednesdays when they can come.  What we don’t have, we do without.  That doesn’t make us less of a church than those who have more people.  It makes us the just-right church for this group of people.

When new opportunities come our way, we ask: can we do that?  Do we want to do that?  If the answer is yes, we take it on.  We’re now expert food-box-fillers.  If the answer is no, we leave it for someone else. Right now we don’t have a youth group or a men’s or women’s group. I hope we don’t feel bad about that. It’s just not our time for it.

Our scripture asks us to value every single part of what’s here.  I hope you experience that value we hold for you.  Each and every person is a blessing, regardless of age – young or old, or the time you have to give, or the number of times you sign the clipboard.

Just being you makes us better.
Thank you for who you are.

Because we are such nice folks, it’s pretty easy for us to appreciate our church family.  I suspect Paul would challenge us to expand our circle a bit.  In our wider community or even our country or our world, I don’t have much trouble valuing nice folks who do nice things.  But if it’s true that we’re all interconnected, then our community also depends on those who push our buttons or make life harder.  That’s more difficult for me to get my head around.

Paul is talking about how each part builds up community, but what about those parts which seem to break community?  How do we think about them?

This week I’m pretty irritated by those who voted against voting rights in the Senate.  That’s an issue I care about.  You probably have a list of things you wish our representatives or other parts of government would do something about.  The price of prescription drugs, child tax credit, inflation…you can fill in what matters to you. How do we value those who keep what we want to do from happening?  First, we value them for who they are and not for what they do.  They are important because they exist.  They are children of God and God loves them.  Second, they can inspire us to work harder and louder in support of those things we think would help everyone. 

In our town there’s a controversy about UND’s new policy of inclusion.  They say everyone will be respected and those who want new names or pronouns to celebrate a new identity will get them.  The Catholic church in our area is encouraging students to boycott UND.  Our council is going to write a letter on our behalf to thank UND for stepping up to this plate and making their community more just and respectful.  The noise about this issue gives us the change to clarify what we value and to do something about it.

In our world we’re watching as Russia threatens Ukraine.  We all hope there won’t be a war over that border.  The soldiers on all sides hope the same.  The situation gives us a change to support our leaders who are working for peace.  And it gives us a chance to reflect on places where our own country might be supporting aggression:  Yemen, Syria, our own borders.  Those who cause trouble give us the opportunity to act is ways to control aggression and work for peace.

We could list more examples of situations or people who seem wrong to us.  We believe we are called to do something about those situations.  To stand up for peace and justice.  To encourage the systems we live within to be more equitable and to support opportunities for everyone.  We start by valuing ALL the people involved.  By realizing that we are all part of one whole – not them vs us but all of us together.  When we value even the difficult parts as beloved and necessary, then we can engage in respectful dialogue. We can talk to one another about what matters to us.  Maybe we can reach a new consensus. 

Even if we need to say no, to impose consequences for bad behavior or make certain actions illegal, we still need to approach that with love and respect.  The banner Victoria made for us says “Hate has no home here.”  That’s true when we are working to overcome the hate expressed by others.  It’s also true when we think of our own attitude toward those we see as causing harm.   We may well need to stand up to injustice and prevent damage to others.  But we do it with love.  We do it recognizing that we are always connected to each person.  We do it in a way that heals community and mends the brokenness for everyone.

Second Sunday after the Epiphany

1 Corinthians 12:1-11

Friday morning, I received a picture of a walleye in a text message. The message was from my daughter in West Fargo. The fish had been caught by my grandson, Blake. Blake is 10. He was in Warroad for a hockey tournament this weekend. With school in West Fargo being virtual on Friday, they figured they might as well go to the hockey tournament a day early and go ice fishing on Lake of the Woods. There was another picture of Blake, with three of his friends/teammates standing holding this 15-18 inch walleye. The snow-covered frozen lake stretched almost as far as you could see. In the evening, Nell's brother in New Orleans, was complaining about how cold it was. The temps overnight had dropped down to the lower S0's. Blake has never lived south of Fargo. Nell's brother has never lived north of Louisiana. Are they just used to the weather? Or does each have the ability to be better able to handle the weather where they live?

In the past year I have been to more hockey games that I had been to in all the previous years of my life combined. Many of you know that the reason is because of going to hockey games for, Blake, my 10 year old, grandson in West Fargo. I am far from an expert on hockey. Lots of the technicalities of hockey are unknown to me. I am learning. Often the penalties are things I do not understand. I will ask my grandson, Blake, to explain things to me. A number of times, I have asked Blake why he did something in a game and not something else. He often says that he does what he is supposed to and trusts his teammates to do what they are supposed to do. He told me that some on the team can do some things better and some can do other things better. He says that they do not all have the same abilities, but when they work together, they get more done than any of them could do alone. That is probably the most important thing that we can learn from team sports; we usually get more done when we work together than we can get done by ourselves.

Our lesson this morning is not about hockey or ice fishing. At least it is not directly. To many church people this is a familiar text, or at least one that we remember that we have heard. I am not saying that it is a scripture lesson that we all know and understand and can give brilliant explanations to everyone, but at least it sounds sort of familiar. Part of that is common sense.

We all know that not everyone has the same gifts. Not everyone has the physical gifts to be a professional athlete, or the intellect to be an accountant, or the ability to be a professional musician. Not everyone is a good cook or good at sewing, or mechanics, or a brilliant surgeon. Different people have different gifts.

Over the years, I have been asked to do, or help with, many different things in the churches that I have been connected to. But no one has asked me to be the pianist or organist. I just plain do not know how. Maybe I could learn, but right now, I just do not know how. No one has asked me to be the church treasurer. I just plain am not that good with numbers. Some of you do amazing things that I am not able to do, and maybe I even do some things that some of you cannot do. Different people have different gifts. Paul tells us that there are a variety of gifts.

A variety of gifts. We have heard that. Most of us realize that. But then Paul ups the ante a bit by telling us that all of our gifts are given by the Spirit of God. Think of that simple sentence. All of us have gifts and abilities and all of those gifts and abilities are given by the Spirit of God. If we are able to acknowledge that our gifts come from God, then every time we use our gifts we are really speaking or acting on behalf of God. Don't get hung up on the word gift. This is not like a wrapped present. This usage of the word gift is really anything given to us without our earning it. So, baking on behalf of God. Singing on behalf of God. Doing repairs on behalf of God. And the list could go on and on.

I have heard a number of sermons and Bible Studies that have looked at this text. Often, I have heard people get hung up on Paul's listing of a variety of gifts. But, the emphasis is on everyone having a gift or gifts, and that the gifts all come from the same Spirit-the Spirit of God. The emphasis is not on each individual gift. This is not Paul giving us a comprehensive listing of all the gifts that anyone and everyone has received or will ever receive from God. This is a listing of some examples.

If I ask you what you saw on your church today, you will be able to tell me some things. It is very unlikely that you would be able to tell me everything that you saw on the way to church. And if someone was riding with you, their listing will be different than yours. Paul is trying to explain what he has been telling us, and so he gives us some examples. We have examples here of gifts from God.

Sometimes people get hung up on which gifts are more important. Paul is not giving us a listing that either comprehensive, all encompassing, or in an order of some hierarchy. He gives us some examples.

The purpose of the gifts is not whose is the best, but that they are all from the same spirit, the Spirit of God, AND that they are all given for the common good. There is no attempt here to define each of these gifts listed. The emphasis is on all being given gifts from the same Spirit and that all the gifts are given for the common good.

Look around at the people that you see today. If God gives gifts for the common good, then they are for the common good of the Body of Christ, the believers in Christ. They are gifts for us to use for the benefit of all of God's people, which means for everyone. They are for all of us as the Family of God. They are for all of us. They are not for the purpose of dividing people or excluding people. They are for all of us. They are all given from the same spirit, the Spirit of God. They are all for the same purpose, the common good of all.

May each of us be able to always use our gifts and abilities for the common good of all-in our families, our church,
or community, and even our world. Amen.

— Pastor Neil Lindorff

First Sunday after the Epiphany

The Baptism of our Lord

Luke 3:15-17, 21-22

About 95% of the time, I loved, loved, loved teaching confirmation classes. The kids were great, if not always attentive, kind, if not always to each other, smart, even if they are smarty, at points of the day, depending on their sugar levels. It was really a privilege to teach them and to learn from them and I mean this with all my heart. And I miss it. I don't miss a whole lot of things about professional, called ministry, but I miss the kids, little ones and those who fall prey to my confirmation classes.

Sometimes, though, in the noise and giggles and competition of the classroom, it would become apparent to me that what I am teaching is so completely foreign to them that I feel like I am on a hill far, far, far away shouting over a storm and they cannot hear me. I don't mean that to say that the preparations for confirmation class that began when their parents taught them their first prayer at bedtime, or the church school teacher taught them to sing, Jesus Loves Me, didn't happen. It’s just that I would get them for an hour a week and the rest of the world got them the other 167 hours a week and so who do you think they listen to the most? Or even got it when I told them things that sound like I am talking about life on another planet. Or at least about someone else, not them.

And then, heaven only knows, sometimes we in church get it wrong too. Not totally, not intentionally, but we put the emphasis on the wrong syllable.

Like this Christmas. We spent a great deal of time celebrating and giving thanks to God for the incarnation, the becoming flesh, the dwelling among us, the absolute miracle of God choosing to become close to us by becoming like us: human, a child, born of a poor but obedient mother and a brave, but overwhelmed father. Amazing, we say. What was God thinking? We say. Emmanuel, we sing. Okay. Got it.

And then, we go to the baptism of Jesus. One Sunday. Done and over. And when I teach about the baptism of Jesus, the connection between that event and their own baptisms, and our baptisms, and the discussion gets rerouted to the ways and means side of their brain: why do we baptize infants and other churches don't, and why do they immerse and we pour and the other church sprinkles? You were immersed? You mean your whole head? What if they held you under too long? Point: when I asked one student, why he or she was baptized as an infant, the answer was, I guess my parents weren't thinking clearly. The awesomeness of the baptism gets messed up with the means of delivery and the one baptism we proclaim in the Apostle’s Creed gets fractured by tradition and preference.

And they miss it: this is how you are like Jesus, the beloved, with whom God is well pleased. The incarnation says, this is how Jesus, the second person of the Holy Trinity is like us, born a baby, had a family, went to school, learned a trade, had friends, etc. Baptism is how you are like Jesus. Baptism is about identity. As in Mark, the voice from heaven is addressed to Jesus in the first person: "You are my Son, the beloved; with you I am well pleased." Baptism teaches us who we are - God's beloved children - and confers upon us the promise of God's unconditional regard. In an era when so many of the traditional elements of identity-construction have been diminished - we change jobs and careers with frequency, most of us have multiple residences rather grown up and live in a single community, fewer families remain intact - there is a craving to figure out just who we are. In response to this craving and need, baptism reminds us that we discover who we are in relation to whose we are, God's beloved children. We belong to God's family, and baptism is a tangible sign of that. Remember, I shout over the storm, whose you are. And the other 167 hours a week, everyone else tries to tell them, you are the jock, you are the Barbie, you are the outcast, you are the mess up, you are what we can sell you, you are just like your grandpa and that ain't all good.

I don't want our kids to confirm their baptism,
but remember it, every day. You, too.

I want them to remember that it matters little how it happens, because we have our beliefs and our preferences and our traditions, but this is God's work. Baptism is God's work and that is what I want them to remember.

Notice, interestingly, that in Luke's account John does not actually baptize Jesus. John is in prison. Who, then, baptizes Jesus? The Holy Spirit! In fact, it's the same Spirit that baptizes us! Baptism, then, is wholly God's work that we may have confidence that no matter how often we fall short or fail, nothing that we do, or fail to do, can remove the identity that God conveys as a gift. Our relationship with God, that is, is the one relationship in life we can't screw up precisely because we did not establish it. We can neglect this relationship, we can deny it, run away from it, ignore it, but we cannot destroy it, for God loves us too deeply and completely to ever let us go. I shout over the storm, people are going to leave you, people are going to disappoint you, people are going to love you as long as you love them back or are young or think like them ... but you can depend on your relationship with God to be solid, no matter what. That is that grace, we like to talk about. In fact, trusting that this relationship is in God's hands, we are freed to give ourselves wholly and completely to the other important relationships in our lives, which means no matter what else we may be, we are still God's.

I was up against those other 167 hours in a week, with people like you too, not just teens in cofirmation classes. Our pastor gets us one hour a week and the world gets us all the rest. I want you to remember your baptism, too, when you are not sure who you are or if who you are is enough for anyone else, or if you matter to anyone else, or if you are too lost or too old or too sick for anyone else to care. Or if God is calling you to do something great and you want to hide behind excuses. Or if God is holding you while you rest, so you can go hold someone else in God's name and let them rest.

I have not told you anything you don't know this morning. I'm retired and I don't have to be clever any more. But I do think about how hard it is to sort through the identities that our world, our culture, our history gives us. We are cancer survivors, we are abuse victims, we are strivers for justice, we are over comers of hardships, we are watchers of the world, a lot of times, we are hope bearers once in a while. Where is the room in our lives to remember we are God's? And that identity can be the source of tremendous strength and wisdom and I believe I, we need that nowadays.

I want you to know that same spirit that baptized Jesus made you God's beloved. That is very special. Hold on to that, every hour, every week, every year. That is the challenge and the good news for today.

— Pastor Nell Lindorff

Luke 2:41-52

Of the four Gospels in our Bibles, only Luke mentions Jesus’ childhood, giving us two stories.  (The Infancy Gospel of Thomas tells stories about Jesus’ early years, but they are clearly invented – showing a petulant child using magical powers to get his way until the neighbors must ask his family to move to another village because their son isn’t safe to have around.)  We don’t often read Luke’s stories because they fall between Christmas and Epiphany when many of us are traveling, and the church is busy with other things.  So today we enjoy this story and unravel it a little to see what it teaches us.

It’s clear that Jesus came from a pious family.  They travel to the Temple in Jerusalem every year to celebrate the Passover.  (We also learn that they are probably poor.  There are three festivals each year requiring Temple attendance – Passover, and the two harvest festivals.  One of these falls in spring at the time we call Pentecost and the other comes in the fall, now called the festival of booths. Jesus family attended only one, either because they couldn’t afford to go three times or because they weren’t farmers and so didn’t have harvest to tithe.)

Jesus’ family travels in the company of family and friends, telling us that Jesus grew up in a community that valued their faith and traditions.  There was a village raising him to be a good Jewish man.  At twelve he would have been considered a man religiously, having studied scripture throughout his life and now taking his place among the men as a reader in the synagogue.  Clearly, he cared about scripture because he spent several days in the Temple listening to the scholars’ debate what tangled passages might mean and joined in the conversation.  Luke wants us to know that Jesus had the authority of knowledge behind his teachings. 

This story tells us that Jesus is also human.  He may be religiously mature at 12, but he’s still a boy.  His parents are happy for him to walk home with his friends, but when they camp for the night and can’t find him, they are naturally upset.  They walk a full day back to the big city to look for him – for three days.  Eventually they find him talking with the scholars in the Temple.  No word here about where he slept or what he ate all that time.  And when they do find him and share their frustration and fear, he brushes them off.  “Didn’t you know I had to be here?”  As if it would be normal to look for a boy among the powerful scholars.  There are volumes written about how Jesus was human but without sin.  Whenever I read this story, I’m convinced that’s a lot of men talking after the fact.  Any mother knows that this was a naughty boy.  If one of our children did something like this, they’d never again see a video game and they’d be grounded until graduation.  Maybe it’s okay for Jesus to just be human.  Later in life we’ll see him angry, frustrated, tired, but also loving and laughing and human in many other ways.

Our story tells us that Mary treasures these stories from her son’s childhood, and surely remembered them twenty years later when he began his public ministry.  The roots of that ministry were planted in these early years.  They are deep in scripture and in the faith community.  The are fed by his mother’s vision for justice and by his father’s struggle to support his family in the poverty of being a carpenter in hard times.  Jesus’ faith comes from his life and his message grows out of his experiences.  That message is also formed by his deep conviction that God is a part of that life and always fully present in it.

We’ve talked often about how hard life was in first century Palestine.  Encouraged by their religious leaders, the people longed for a Messiah who would come from God to rescue them.  They were waiting for God to clean up what was a big mess in daily life.  It’s sometimes convenient for people in power to suggest that they can’t do anything about what’s broken in society but must wait for God to make improvements.  Jesus had a very different message.  He told people that God’s love was already powerful among them, and they didn’t need to wait.  A new way of living – a Godly way of living – was available to them right now.  Then he showed them what that looked like:  those with bread shared with the hungry; those with two robes gave one away to clothe a neighbor; people ostracized because of illness could be healed and re-enter the community; those who lived in the margins (women, beggars, slaves) could be treated with respect and given dignity.  Jesus challenged the authority of those who had the opportunity to make change and protected their own power rather than healing the community. 

The story of the earliest followers of Jesus is the story of those who took his message seriously and lived by it.  They formed communities that cared for one another.  The story of Christmas as we tell it is about waiting for God.  It’s also about noticing that God is already here.  God isn’t delaying the time when God will fix the world for us.  God is waiting for us to live in a different way.  When we remember the invitation to love one another, we create that way of life.  We talk at Christmas about God taking on human flesh and living among us.  Today we are that human flesh and we make God visible in our lives through our actions.

In our time we continue the work of first century Jesus followers through many small acts of kindness.  We believe we bring light to the world in simple ways that have big impact and we celebrate that every Sunday.  One difference between our time and the first century is that we have vastly more power than most of those folks ever imagined.  Yes, we work in small, personal ways, but we also have influence on policy – we have a voice and a vote and the freedom to use both.  In our century the message of Christianity to government and society has been highjacked by the Evangelical movement.  Theirs is a message of protecting wealth and giving power to the few.  They want to create a rulebook which controls individual choice and flaunts our common responsibility to care for those who struggle.  It’s a message of exclusion and judgment. 

In my childhood mainline Christianity had influence and it’s time that we took it back.  What we can’t do as individuals, we can do through community and government.  We can reclaim the vision of Jesus that’s not about judgment but about justice, not about power but about equality and dignity for everyone.  Jesus wanted to level the field so that everyone ate and had health care, everyone could succeed so the community was lifted up together.  His encouragement to “love one another” is how we love God.  Sometimes we’re told that vision isn’t realistic and will never work in the “real” world.  I say it’s not a failed vision, it’s a forgotten vision and it’s time we remembered.  It’s time to make some holy noise and get in some good trouble to change what’s “real.”

This doesn’t mean that God has abandoned us to take care of ourselves on our own.  It means that God has always been here within us, always moved among us.  God acts through us to re-create life in the image we call holy.  That is the celebration of Christmas that lasts all year.

Forth Sunday of Advent

Micah 5:2-5; Luke 1:46-55

Today we come to the end of our Avent journey for this year.  We have been waiting.  We wait for Christmas.  We wait for God to enter into our world and transform it.  And while we wait, we get ready.  We shop and bake and decorate and travel and send greetings near and far.  We have been challenged to expect peace, to watch with hope, to find joy, and today to do it all with love. 

In the midst of all there is to do, sometimes love gets lost.  We can forget that all this shopping and cooking and connecting is really about the people we care about.  Sometimes we expect more of friends and family than they are able to deliver and we’re disappointed.  Sometimes they expect more of us than we have to give and we’re frustrated.  If we strip away all the expectations that this holiday carries with it, we’re left with the people who matter most in our lives.  And with love.

What we feel for family is also true of our relationship with an incredibly complex and messy world.  We have so many hopes for what this life will be.  We long for peace, for justice, for equality.  We want our neighbors to act with compassion and mercy.  We expect people to be lifted up and given a chance to succeed and then to turn around and lift up those who follow.  We want this world to be God-filled and holy.  Usually, we’re disappointed or frustrated.  We ask the world to be perfect and it never is.  We feel like the world asks us as individuals and as a community to be more perfect than we’ve ever managed and we rarely pull it off.  Maybe all the world really asks of us is that we love it the best we can.

In today’s readings we hear from the prophets Micah and Mary.  (Mary usually just gets to be a mother, but today she’s a prophet too.)  Although they lived centuries apart they shared a common vision of good things for their people.  They ask us to carry that vision in our century.  It’s a vision of peace and freedom.  A vision of people living without hunger, without illness, without fear.  Mary taught that vision to her son Jesus and he shared it with the people of his time.  They came to listen and to hope.  But it’s not a vision that drops out of heaven, sent from God.  It’s a vision God helps us create by living in community and caring for one another.  It’s about how the world changes when we dare to love and to be loving.

Last week we were reminded that this vision of the way things are meant to be isn’t a burden, it’s a joy.  It’s a joy because it is born in love for one another and it rises up as we live that love day by day.  It’s rooted in love because God is love and at the core to be alive is to love and to be loved.  Any place where love has been set aside or pushed down, life is broken.  We are called to clear away and heal the broken places until love can thrive again.  That’s called new life.  It’s what Jesus and Christmas are about.

I encourage you, no matter how much you have left to do, to leave space to just love.  Love yourself.  Love those around you.  Love the world.  Let the rest on your to-do list take second place.

Then in the year ahead let’s commit ourselves and our church to the love of God coming among us again and again through Jesus and his vision.  His Father’s vision.  His mother’s vision.  God’s vision for peace, hope, joy and love for all.

There is so much to do.  So much to fix.  So much to make new.  All of it begins simply with love.  We care for one another and our whole world because we love.  Scripture encourages us to “let all that you do be done in love.”  There’s isn’t a better place to start.

Third Sunday of Advent

Isaiah 12: 2-6 & Luke 3: 7-18

This third Sunday in Advent we celebrate that we are waiting for something to happen with great joy.  The very best things we wait for are joyful – the birth of a child, the arrival of holiday guests, Santa Claus.  This Advent we’ve been remembering that first century and twenty-first century folks wait for the world to be more hopeful, more peaceful, and more joyful.  We expect what’s broken to be mended and what’s oppressive and unjust to be changed.  Meanwhile, we wait with joy.

Many spiritual leaders tell us that what we think impacts what happens in our lives.  If we expect good things, then good things happen.  Maybe not because we change the course of history or our lives but because we see what happens through new eyes.  In a very troubled first century Jesus encouraged people to act with mercy and compassion toward one another and called leaders to task for not protecting those who were poor and hungry.  I suspect that people flocked to him because he was teaching them that by living in a better way, they could create community even when they couldn’t change their external circumstances or their government.  A new way of living begins with a new vision for life.  A new vision for life is created with joy.

This is the second week we’ve had scripture about John the Baptizer.  In his day people came to hear John preach because, like Jesus who followed him, he told them that they had the power to improve their lives and their world.  He called them to be honest and just and generous and told them that if they did those things they would see the benefit of change all around them.  People want the world to be better and these prophets empowered folks to create the change they wanted.

We too are facilitators of change, creating a better world for ourselves and others.  It’s one of most important ways that we live out our faith.  We don’t just wait for God to fix something, we work to make things better.  Sometimes we’re discouraged because we can’t wave a magic wand and fix the whole world.  Joyful eyes can help us see the difference we are making, even when it seems small.

Our ELCA Advent guidebook has been reminding us that as we wait through Advent we are standing along side those who are waiting for much more than Christmas.  They are waiting for the necessities of life, sometimes with little hope of receiving them.  Last week (when we were kept away by snow) the focus was on those without shelter.  Even in our own community some people have no place to call home.  Some are in emergency shelters and others stay a few days at a time with friends.  In winter lack of shelter is life-threatening. 

This week we are asked to focus on people who are hungry.  Our study reminds us that in 2019 the Department of Agriculture reduced SNAP benefits for many people, encouraging people to be self-sufficient.  With the pandemic many of those benefits have been restored, along with significant aid to families who were struggling as the world has been turned upside down.  There’s a real difference in philosophy between these two approaches. 

Often our American culture has lifted up self-sufficiency as the ideal and glorified “self-made” folks as heroes.  It’s a myth that anyone can get ahead with hard work.  Sometimes that’s true.  Sometimes it’s also true that no amount of work can close the gap between poverty and wealth or between ethnic groups with and without advantage.  Rugged individualism isn’t a Christian value.  John and Jesus didn’t talk about getting ahead on your own.  They talked about building community and caring for each other.  In hard times they encouraged people to watch out for each other.  In our times that’s still a value of our faith.

We have become a church that feeds people.  We’ve made meals happen at LaGrave on First.  We take our turn at the Love Feast.  Last week I made 11 pounds of ham balls for St. Nicholas Day at Christus Rex and this week I made 11 pounds more for LaGrave birthday night.  We also help in other ways.  A year ago Roberta raised thousands of dollars for Homeless Helpers.  This week we made the down payment on a dental bill.  Over time, we’ve met a lot of needs for many people.

Why do we do these things?  At least in part we do them because they make us happy.  It’s joyful to meet needs.  It’s joyful to make our faith real by making the world a better place.  Being a community isn’t a burden, it’s a joy.  Taking care of one another isn’t an obligation, it’s a privilege.  When any one person is lifted up, we all rise.

Our nation is having a great debate right now about how we will see the role of government and how we will define community.  Some churches are vocal about protecting the rights of the wealthy and reducing the role of government in our lives.  It’s important that we clarify that faith isn’t an individual focus and never has been.  Faith is about community and the things that make our common life better.  It’s about justice for everyone, especially those who have experienced injustice.  It’s about respect for all people, particularly those who haven’t been acknowledged.  It’s about being sure that everyone is housed, everyone eats, everyone has access to education and health care.  Providing those things for us all isn’t an imposition, it’s the way Jesus showed us and we can do it gladly.

We are waiting.  We are hoping.  We are joyful.

What brings you joy?

Second Sunday of Advent

Luke 1:68-79 & 3:1-5

We are in the new season of Advent when our focus is on waiting for something important to happen.  Sometimes in this season we lose the sense of anticipation because we’re so busy making things happen – shopping, decorating, baking, partying.  It’s good for us to pause a moment and remember that we are expecting something to change – some improvement which Advent promises is just around the corner.

Luke locates our scripture today in a very specific time and place by listing off all the people who are in charge of the world – the rulers and the priest who have control over how the system works, or doesn’t work, for everyone.  In spite of, or maybe because of, these people this is a time of great fear and violence.  Roman soldiers patrol cities and towns and keep order by randomly harming people.  A population that’s afraid may be more easily controlled.  They will obey oppressive laws and taxes because they fear the consequences of disobedience.  If innocent people can be punished, guilty folk are in even more danger.  It wasn’t a good time to be alive.

Into this troubled time comes the prophet John, whom we know as the baptizer.  He quotes the Jewish prophets who promise peace and well-being to the people.  He is an unknown person, living in poverty, who stands in stark contrast to the people of power.  He preaches peace, not by calling for political revolution but by asking people to change the way they each live their own lives.  Both John and Jesus asked for this change in lifestyle.  Rather than attacking Rome from the top down, they advocated for reform from the bottom up – change the way you think and live and the world around you will change in response.  This change begins by not being afraid.

Throughout its existence the Christian tradition has stood for peace – and in over 2000 years has more often created violence than ended it.  Common wisdom is that peace is a nice idea and not actually possible.  That human beings cannot live without the kind of competition which leads to warfare.  That seems to be true.  It’s also true that the folks who make decisions have rarely if ever actually tried to be peacemakers.  It seems to me that we shouldn’t give up on the idea until we actually try to implement it.

You’ve heard me say before that I used to suggest that no nation be allowed to go to war unless the actual battles would be fought by rich white men.  It’s the people in power who choose conflict but they aren’t the ones who suffer the gravest consequences.  In our nation, and in many nations, the soldiers on the ground are disproportionately men and women raised in poverty, who enter the military because they can’t afford to go to school or enter other careers.  This became clearer to me when I met my son-in-law who is a man of great skill and commitment and serves our country well through the National Guard.  We can be so proud of those who serve us.  At the same time we can acknowledge that in our nation those who are poor make greater sacrifices in times of war than those who are in power.    When conflict was forced on us by the decisions of other nations, we have responded.  It’s possible to honor those who have fought in our wars and at the same time work so that the next war doesn’t happen.

I’ve come to say that rather than being fought by powerful men, all war should be fought by grandmothers and their only weapons should be pictures of their grandchildren.  They would harm many fewer people, destroy much less property and be highly motivated to reach nonviolent solutions.  It seems new to me to hear folks talking now about how the United States can impact the world more through diplomacy than through military action.  Our armed forces can use their power to create incentive for conversation rather than to attack.  They can use their skill to make life better in places prone to despair and then to conflict and so avoid the need for combat.  It seems like progress to hear people openly talking about new ways of relating to other nations.

In our support of peacemaking as an endeavor of faith and the faithful, we don’t want to lose sight of John and Jesus suggesting that we begin to make peace by being at peace in our own lives.  We can learn to live at lower levels of anxiety and greater openness to others.  We can teach ourselves to be slower to take offense and quick to collaborate for the common good.  Even in violent times, we can be centers of peace that infect the world around us.  Consider if inner peace was as contagious as Covid 19, how quickly the world might change, how we could come together.

Some years ago someone gave me a list of the Symptoms of Inner Peace.  I’ve printed that for you and will enclose it when we mail the sermons and post it to our facebook page.  I keep them on my refrigerator so that I can read them from time to time.  In this busy time of year, we could still make a beginning at being a more peaceful people.

This Advent we’re also encouraged by the ELCA Hunger Action team to be intentional about standing with those whose needs are greater than our own and who would benefit most from changes in our world.  Today we remember those who are without adequate shelter.  We read of Hala, a Sudanese mother of four who is a refugee in Cairo, Egypt.  Her husband died early in the Covid pandemic and from a Lutheran organization she received a grant which kept her family from being evicted.  She then was helped with training so that she could get a job and provide both food and shelter for her children.

In our own community both Northlands Rescue Mission and LaGrave on First meet the needs of people without shelter, each connecting with different parts of that population.  In addition, Homeless Helpers and others meet the needs of those waiting to qualify for services or those who fall through the cracks of the current system.  We’ve been a part of helping in all those ways.

It’s almost impossible to be at peace and to live without anxiety if you don’t know where you will sleep at night or if you will be warm enough during winter days to be safe.  When we first started cooking at LaGrave, there were frequently arguments and altercations among residents who had lived on edge for so long.  Now the stress level is visibly lower as people have learned to trust that they will have a warm place to live.  There are rarely arguments and people are clearly in a much better place.

Jesus told us that we can’t just wish for people to be at peace, “go in peace, be warmed and fed,” unless we’re willing to make that peace possible.  So we do.  We help people stay in their apartments and we make sure they have good food to eat.  We are waiting for peace to come to our world.  In the meantime, we’re creating a little peace along the way.

Symptoms of Inner Peace

• A tendency to think and act spontaneously rather than on fears based on past experiences

• An unmistakable ability to enjoy each moment

• A loss of interest in judging other people

• A loss of interest in interpreting the actions of others

• A loss of interest in conflict

• A loss of the ability to worry

• Frequent, overwhelming episodes of appreciation

• Contented feelings of connectedness with others and with nature

• Frequent attacks of smiling

• An increasing tendency to let things happen rather than make them happen

• An increased susceptibility to the love extended by others as well as the uncontrollable urge to extend it

First Sunday in Advent

Jeremiah 33:14-16 & Luke 21:25-26

Today we enter the season of Advent, which is the beginning of the Christian year.  Like every new year’s celebration, we begin by wondering what the year ahead will bring.  The traditional theme for Advent is waiting, and every year we wait and wonder about what lies ahead  Most year’s we hope that something better is around the corner.  Waiting implies that something good is coming.

In the first century most folks were waiting for something better.  They were surrounded by oppression, taking the forms of slavery, poverty, hunger, warfare and hopelessness.  Religious folks turned to the prophets, longing for a promise of redemption and reform.  They wondered if the struggles of daily life were the signs that God was going to act on their behalf.

Our part of the twenty-first century may not be as dire as the first century experienced, but folks seem to think that our society is broken.  Every day I hear friends wonder how we can be so divided, how people can think and act so contrary to the values we hold.  And then I hear the folks whom I’d like to call out saying the same things about me.  There’s a lot of fear in our world – fear of other people, of economic disaster, of Covid and other illnesses.  We, too, are waiting for something better!

Our scriptures remind us that fearsome times can be the harbinger of important change.  When things seem to be falling apart, they may be about to fall together in a new and better way.  Or not.  So we, too are waiting for something new and wondering if the love of God will be in the heart of whatever that is.

Today our scriptures and Advent candle readings invite us to consider what it means to hope in the midst of hardship and chaos.  The ELCA Hunger Program has also given us an Advent study booklet to consider where God is moving among us.  On this first Sunday they give us stories of health care ministries and ask us to remember that these ministries bring hope to many people around the world.  They tell the story of Charity Toksang, who was able to birth a healthy baby boy in a hospital in South Sudan because the church opened a free hospital there.  South Sudan is a troubled place, but babies being born are a sign of hope, even there.

When I think about hope and health care, I think about my brother-in-law and sister, who are medical missionaries in Angola.  Ten years ago they moved to the remote village of Cavango and re-opened the clinic there.  Patients were reluctant to trust them and living conditions were difficult.  Today they see almost more patients than three providers can keep up with.  They are building a hospital and a larger clinic with a lab.  They have brought reliable electricity to their clinic.  They opened a TB sanitorium where patients learn to take their medications correctly so they can be cured.  They fly patients to the city for life-saving surgery.  Because last year’s crops failed in a drought, they are keeping families alive by buying corn for them, in exchange for labor in the building projects.  What once was a place of despair is becoming a place of hope.

In our own community I think of our partnership with Spectra Health.  People without insurance have better access to medical and dental treatment.  Because Spectra sees a whole person and not just a patient, folks are getting help with housing and food and transportation.  Sometimes we help make that possible.  As health care is expanded in our country, Spectra is there to be sure people access the care they need.

I’m reminded also of the many people in our families who are medically fragile or in need of special care.  Because we are an older congregation, several of our members deal daily with health concerns and even life-threatening conditions.  We wait with them from day to day, hoping for good days ahead.  We support our members and their families who seek mental health treatment and deal with conditions that make some days uncertain.  We hope for medications and treatments that make life easier.  We know that in most families there are folks who deal with addiction and seek a treatment program that will work for them.  We hope for days of sobriety.

As a congregation we have advocated for a health care system in our country that makes it possible for everyone to access the care they need – medical, dental, vision, mental health, behavioral health.  Jesus healed people in his ministry.  In his name we work to see that the means of health are available to all people worldwide.  In small steps we are moving toward hope in health care.

Our Advent candle lighting gives a place for each of us to think about how we see signs of hope in our own lives and the world around us.  I’d like to end with a time for us to consider what is hopeful and perhaps to speak those hopes aloud.  (If you are reading this sermon, you may want to pause and think of some specific ways you find hope in your life.) 

Like the people in the first century we wait with hope because we believe that something better lies ahead.  We believe that God is with us and through that holy presence our world is being transformed.

Acts 27 & 28

Today we read the last bit of Acts and we will have completed our journey through this book, which began last May.  Because the reading is again long, I’ll combine a summary of the scripture with the sermon.

These two ending chapters cover Paul’s journey as a prisoner from Caesarea to Rome.  He’s under the charge of the soldier Julius, who treats him like royalty in this story rather than like a common prisoner.  The journey is full of Mediterranean place names which aren’t familiar to us, but we recognize the Island of Crete where they arrive as winter is setting in and sailing becomes difficult.  Paul suggests (Why would a prisoner have any say about the ship captain’s plans?) that they winter in Fair Haven but it’s decided to move further west on the Island to Phoenix, which is a better harbor for winter. 

On the way to Phoenix a huge storm comes up and blows them toward the coast of North Africa.  In order to save the ship they throw the cargo overboard and then the ship’s tackle.  When they’ve been 14 days at sea without food (no cargo) Paul tells them to prepare a meal with what they have left and celebrate that they are about to be saved.  Soldiers in charge of prisoners (there must have been several) suggest that they be killed so they don’t escape, but Julius convinces them otherwise and so Paul lives.  Some of the sailors try to escape on the lifeboat but Paul tells Julius to stop them and he cuts the lifeboat free before it can be used.  Finally, they shipwreck on the island of Malta, where they are welcomed warmly by the inhabitants, who are called barbarians because they don’t speak Greek.  They build a bonfire on the beach to warm the people coming wet from the sea.  Paul adds wood to the fire and is bitten by a snake hiding in the brush.  Rather than dying, he shows no signs of poisoning.  The people decide he’s a god and give him special treatment.

Eventually spring comes, they hire another ship and arrive in Rome, where Paul is under house arrest and seems able to meet with the leaders of the Jewish synagogue.  Some Jews in Rome accept his teaching about Jesus being the Messiah and some don’t – just like in all the other towns he’s visited.  It’s interesting that although we have a long letter of Paul to the church in Rome, Acts doesn’t mention that church or show Paul relating to them the way he did to churches in other towns.  We learn that Paul lived in Rome for two years.  Although tradition tells us that he died there, Acts doesn’t mention his trial or death.

Some things to note from these final chapters…

The sea voyage that brings Paul to Rome is reminiscent of his other voyages and patterned again after the great sea voyages of Greek mythology.  They reinforce the idea that Paul is an epic hero, coming in triumph to Rome, even though he comes in chains.  Rome is the heart of the Empire and with Paul the good news about Jesus comes into the very center of power there.  Paul as a great hero is able to do miraculous things – survive a snake bite, rescue a whole ship of people from a storm, heal several folks along the way.  Again we see that Paul has the same powers that Jesus had and so his message is truly from Jesus.

The entire book of Acts has served the purpose of its second century author – show that Paul’s mission to the Gentiles was with the approval of the original apostles in Jerusalem, prove that the Jews were offered the message about Jesus and rejected it, and show that even the Gentile believers were closely connected to “true” Judaism as practiced by Jesus and Paul.  While Paul is the hero of more than half this tale, his teachings are much less important (and not outlined in much detail) than his presence.  Our author is in the thick of the second century church figuring out what it means to be a follower of Jesus among the many options that had developed over time.  He’s staking his ground and standing firmly on it.  His view prevails in the history of the church.  But there is not a single way to be a follower of Jesus and we can celebrate diversity and each find our own way within it.

I want to spend some time with the idea that winds through this tale that God intends for Paul to spread the message of Jesus and come eventually to Rome, and so through every difficulty God opens a way for Paul to succeed.  In today’s reading, all the people on the ship are saved from shipwreck because they are with Paul and he must be saved to continue his journey.  Our author shows Paul living his life under God’s direction and confident that everything is going to work out in the way God planned.

Over the centuries, that line of thinking has led some to believe that God has planned each individual life and that for any one of us, all that happens during our lifetime is the direct choice of God’s plan for us.  That can be comforting, giving us confidence that all is well no matter how hard life seems in the moment.  It can also lead to thinking that seems quite abusive to me.  I’ve had parents tell me that the death of a child is a good thing because it’s God’s will.  We’ve heard preachers say that the devastation of New Orleans by Hurricane Katrina was God’s will as judgment on the lifestyle of people who lived there.  If we follow this line, everything bad is supposedly really good and we can’t do anything about correcting it.  It seems dangerous for me to say, “Not everything that happens in our lives is the direct result of a choice God makes.”  But I want to indeed say that and invite you to see if that fits with your experience.  I’m convinced that people have more freedom to make their own choices and also more responsibility for how life unfolds for themselves and others. 

 At the same time, I absolutely believe that God is present in our lives as a powerful, positive energy of love and connection.  When we face hard times and find strength to keep going, we tap into that love energy.  When we face decisions about what we will do, where we will go, how we will live, whom we will live with – we can choose whether or not to align those decisions with the values we identify as God-like.  In that way it’s true that we can be guided by God as our life unfolds.  I know that at times I’ve felt like God was in the events of my life – when I was hired in one place and not another, when I was raising children alone and worrying about how that would turn out, when I was learning new things or trying new skills on for size.  But I no longer understand that to be a distant and distinct God manipulating my life to go according to a pre-conceived plan.  Rather I’ve come to believe that when we align ourselves with what is good and kind and even holy, then the events of our lives can be seen through the lens of that world view.  I don’t get the job I want, but I get another that is rewarding.  My father doesn’t accept cancer treatments which would prolong his life, but he has a peaceful death and I still feel a connection to him that’s bigger than life. 

Maybe this boils down to two things we might consider – how we look at our own lives, seeing what’s good in spite of what’s hard, and how we take responsibility for the common life that we are creating on this earth.  The first is about finding inner peace and acceptance for what is, even when we’re planning for what’s next.  It’s about giving and receiving support when life is hard. 

The second is about working to change our culture to be better for everyone.  It’s not, I’d suggest, God’s will that some people are hungry or homeless or without education or denied access to advancement because of their color or language or religion.  That’s the responsibility of a system of inequality and it may well be our responsibility to change it.

If God is love, and I believe God certainly is love, then we live in God and with God when we know that we are loved and when we create a society that’s loving toward others – all others.  We’re not passively waiting for God to move our life in a direction of God’s choice.  We’re actively creating a life – our own and our common life – that reflects the presence of God as love in all we do.  I see that as a correction to a way of thinking too long endorsed by the church.  We can’t use God as an excuse.  Life happens – sometimes beyond our control.  But we can choose our response to life and we can choose how we structure our community to be inclusive and just.

So we have read Acts, heard some wonderful stories, learned how one author understood his moment in the scope of Christian history.  Our job isn’t to shape our church or our own lives in the mold of his time, but to consider carefully how we feel called to live and move in our time.  Where is God moving among us?  What will that mean for us today and in the future?

Paul's arrest and trial in Jerusalem

A summary of Acts 21-26

Paul is making his farewell journey through all the churches he’s been associated with between Corinth and Jerusalem, surrounding the northeast Mediterranean.  He meets with and encourages the leaders and ensures that they have the Jesus message down in the way he interprets it. 

It’s clear that no one expects to see Paul again, but unclear whether that’s because our author is foreshadowing his arrest and execution or because Paul himself hopes to go from Jerusalem to Rome and then on to Spain to preach about Jesus.

Everyone he meets encourages him not to go to Jerusalem, but he insists.  So when he arrives in Jerusalem, he meets with James and the leaders of the church, who welcome him and the collection from various churches he’s brought to help the poor folks in Jerusalem.  Paul tells them of his great success converting people to the way of Jesus and they respond by telling of great success in converting Jews to Jesus.  They warn Paul that this religious revival among Jews has led to greater adherence to the Torah and consequently the Jerusalem community of Jesus people has concern about Paul telling Gentiles they don’t have to follow the law or be circumcised.  The leaders insist that they still agree Paul’s method is right, but that there might be trouble.  In order to show Paul’s commitment to Judaism, they suggest that he join a small group who are making a religious vow and pay their expenses as a sign of good faith, which Paul does.

In completing this vow, Paul goes to the Temple, where some Jews from Ephesus recognize him and incite a riot against him because of his teachings.  The Roman military gets involved and rescues Paul.  On his way to safety in the Roman barracks, he asks for permission to address the crowd and tells the story of his conversion from a pious Jew to a follower of Jesus – but still a Jew.  The crowd wants nothing of it and the captain of the guard takes him into safe-keeping.

The next day the captain takes him to the Jewish Council for examination, trying to figure out what the problem is and what crime Paul is accused of.  Paul’s defense includes setting the Pharisees and Sadducees against each other, starting another riot, so that the captain takes him back into Roman custody to protect him.

The Jews in Jerusalem plan to ask for Paul to appear again before the council so that they can murder him when he’s out of Roman custody.  Paul’s nephew overhears them plotting and tells Paul and then the captain of the plan.  The captain sends Paul right away overnight to Caesarea to the custody of Felix, the governor of the region.  Felix puts Paul under house arrest in posh quarters. 

The Chief Priest sends a smooth-talking lawyer to Felix to accuse Paul of crimes of disturbing the peace and causing riots because of his association with Nazarenes – the followers of Jesus.  Paul claims his innocence and Felix (who is a sympathizer of the Jesus movement) keeps him in house arrest and over the next two years Felix and his wife Drusilla often listen to Paul talk about Jesus.

After two years Festus replaces Felix as regional governor in Caesarea.  When he’s making the rounds to visit major cities in his area, he goes to Rome, where the Council again stirs up trouble about Paul, asking that he be sent to trial in Jerusalem.  But Paul insists on being tried by Romans and appeals to Caesar.

Soon after that King Agrippa and wife Bernice visit Festus to welcome him to his new post.  Festus consults with Agrippa about what to do with Paul and Agrippa has Paul tell his story.  Paul again tells of his conversion from persecutor of Jesus folks to chief spokesperson to the Gentiles on Jesus’ behalf.  Agrippa is moved by Paul’s tale and sympathetic to his cause.  He declares that it’s too bad Paul has appealed to Caesar because Agrippa would have set him free.  But since he’s made the appeal, he’ll be sent to Rome.

Here are a few things to notice about this story
as we near the end of our journey through Acts:

The people who accused Paul and started the riot in the Temple were from Ephesus.  For this and a number of other detailed reasons, some scholars believe that the author of Acts was from Ephesus.  We know from Paul’s letters that there was a debate among the Jesus followers in that city about differences in teaching represented by Paul and by John.  This author clearly favors Paul’s version of the message and may be writing Acts as an apology for Paul’s teachings over those of other teachers.  Because of the way ancient writings have been preserved, it’s Paul’s theology that most heavily influences Christianity today.  That’s not to say that Paul is always right or that what is says is wrong, but it’s good for us to notice that there isn’t one right way to be a follower of Jesus.

Paul was a Pharisee who believed in the resurrection of the dead.  The Pharisees and the Sadducees were two branches of Judaism in the first century.  The Sadducees didn’t believe in resurrection, life after death, the appearance of angels, or any religious believes that bordered on the supernatural.  When Paul appears before the council, he sets these two factions fighting as a way to take the heat off himself.  As a Pharisee and believer in resurrection, Paul has to have influenced the early church to put central focus on the resurrection and eternal life.  We see that in the letters he wrote and in the way his message is phrased in Acts.  Not every part of early Christianity has that same emphasis.  Again, this isn’t to say that one is right and another wrong, but only that it’s possible to focus on the meaning of Jesus in a variety of ways.

Finally, during one of the times Paul is imprisoned in this story he has a vision of God telling him that everything is going to be alright and that this trouble he’s having with the Jews is eventually going to get him on his way to Rome to preach about Jesus.  Paul uses the fact that he’s a Roman citizen, by birth and not by bribery, to throw his case into Roman court.  This offers him protection from the Jewish council and prevents him from being whipped or otherwise tortured because of his rights as a citizen.  It also means that when Agrippa would have set him free, he can’t because Paul has appealed to Rome.  So that tactic worked both for and against Paul, if we’re to presume that he was eventually executed in Rome.  There’s a wonderful story about how the events in life can be both bad and good, depending on how we see them.  We should put that on our list to consider in future sermons.  For now, suffice it to say that there’s no point in second guessing decisions we make or wondering how our lives might have been different if we’d made different choices.  Paul tells us that the outcome is all in God’s hands, and we too can leave it there.

— Gretchen Graf