Tag Archives: Jesus

Preaching, Sermons

Glorious Grace [OR Christians in a Country that Separates Church from State] Mark 6, Ephesians 1, and Amos 7

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on July 14, 2024

[sermon begins after two Bible readings; reading from Amos is at the end of the sermon]

Mark 6:14-29 King Herod heard of [the disciples’ preaching,] for Jesus’ name had become known. Some were saying, “John the baptizer has been raised from the dead; and for this reason these powers are at work in him.” 15 But others said, “It is Elijah.” And others said, “It is a prophet, like one of the prophets of old.” 16 But when Herod heard of it, he said, “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.”
17 For Herod himself had sent men who arrested John, bound him, and put him in prison on account of Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife, because Herod had married her. 18 For John had been telling Herod, “It is not lawful for you to have your brother’s wife.” 19 And Herodias had a grudge against him, and wanted to kill him. But she could not, 20 for Herod feared John, knowing that he was a righteous and holy man, and he protected him. When he heard him, he was greatly perplexed; and yet he liked to listen to him. 21 But an opportunity came when Herod on his birthday gave a banquet for his courtiers and officers and for the leaders of Galilee. 22 When his daughter Herodias came in and danced, she pleased Herod and his guests; and the king said to the girl, “Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give it.” 23 And he solemnly swore to her, “Whatever you ask me, I will give you, even half of my kingdom.” 24 She went out and said to her mother, “What should I ask for?” She replied, “The head of John the baptizer.” 25 Immediately she rushed back to the king and requested, “I want you to give me at once the head of John the Baptist on a platter.” 26 The king was deeply grieved; yet out of regard for his oaths and for the guests, he did not want to refuse her. 27 Immediately the king sent a soldier of the guard with orders to bring John’s head. He went and beheaded him in the prison, 28 brought his head on a platter, and gave it to the girl. Then the girl gave it to her mother. 29 When his disciples heard about it, they came and took his body, and laid it in a tomb.

Ephesians 1:3-14 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, 4 just as he chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless before him in love. 5 He destined us for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ, according to the good pleasure of his will, 6 to the praise of his glorious grace that he freely bestowed on us in the Beloved. 7 In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace 8 that he lavished on us. With all wisdom and insight 9 he has made known to us the mystery of his will, according to his good pleasure that he set forth in Christ, 10 as a plan for the fullness of time, to gather up all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth. 11 In Christ we have also obtained an inheritance, having been destined according to the purpose of him who accomplishes all things according to his counsel and will, 12 so that we, who were the first to set our hope on Christ, might live for the praise of his glory. 13 In him you also, when you had heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and had believed in him, were marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit; 14 this is the pledge of our inheritance toward redemption as God’s own people, to the praise of his glory.

[sermon begins]

Wonder with me for a minute about how different the world might be if each person in the world lived in grace and hope. If each person in the world understood themselves as formed by love for love. Let’s wonder with the letter to the Ephesian church that opens with the powerful blessing we heard today. The letter was likely sent in copies to the wider church, not just the Ephesians. The letter is to new converts following the Way of Jesus, both Jews and Gentiles (non-Jews), who are struggling to get along with each other. Christians who are learning the Jesus Way and challenged by their different opinions about what the church should be and do. The letter opens with this gorgeous blessing, flowing with hope. Phrases like, “glorious grace freely bestowed by the Beloved.” (The Beloved being Jesus.) And in the Beloved, “…we have redemption…through the riches of his grace that he lavished on us…” Those 1st century siblings in the faith “set [their] hope on Christ” as do we in the 21st century.

I invite you to take your worship bulletin home and re-read this opening blessing again. Underline the words that jump out at you. Cut it out. Tape it to your bathroom mirror or use one of your many fridge magnets to keep it front and center. If you’re anything like me, setting our hope on Christ gets slippery between Sunday mornings. The challenges of life, work, relationships, and politics can weary even the most faithful among us. It’s why we need each other as a reminder of the hope to which we cling when the world serves up horror on a platter.

I mean, good grief, don’t we have enough happening in the world without stories like these on Sundays?! King Herod Antipas, a.k.a. King Herod in our Bible story today, murdered many, many people who were threats to his power and executed John the Baptist on shameless impulse.[1]

This king was the son of THE King Herod who tried to manipulate the magi from the East and who murdered babies to eliminate the newborn king of the Jews.[2] Murderous mayhem ran in the family and attracted others like Herodias who King Herod Antipas stole from his brother Philip. Herodias had an opportunity and took it to rid herself of the pesky prophet for whom she carried a grudge because John wouldn’t stay quiet about her illicit marriage. Up to this point in the Gospel of Mark, demons and disease were causing the problems. King Herod Antipas added “depraved dictator” to the list of things working against God’s kingdom. The king liked listening to John’s teaching but not enough to let him live. John’s disciples braved a similar fate when they asked for his body to bury. It’s difficult to imagine their courage. They must have loved John very much to risk such a thing.

We don’t know what Jesus thought about John’s death. In the first chapter of Mark, Jesus’ ministry launched after John’s arrest.[3] It’s possible that Jesus’ launch was partly inspired by the arrest. And John’s execution foreshadows Jesus’ execution. Not only is someone NOT a prophet in their own hometown, as Jesus said at the beginning of this sixth chapter of Mark, but they apparently don’t live long after prophesying against preeminent power.

This summer’s book recommendation was brought to us by Augustana’s Human Dignity Delegates – The Cost of Discipleship by Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Leave it to this ministry to offer the seeming opposite of a “beach read,” although ironically it may be the perfect book to read on a beach given the United States entrance into World War II was on the beaches of Hawaii and France. Bonhoeffer was a German Lutheran theologian and pastor who lived as the Nazis rose to power in the 1930s. He is widely admired for his opposition to Hitler and the Nazis, resisting their influence on the Protestant Church as he founded the Confessing Church. His resistance led to his arrest, imprisonment, and execution in concentration camp. If Lutherans had saints, he’d likely be one of them.

In The Cost of Discipleship written in 1937, Bonhoeffer believed that discipleship includes personal sacrifice while we live out our faith in the world. He makes a distinction between “cheap grace” that requires nothing of us versus “costly grace” that inspires action to make a difference in the world. It’s costly not because God requires something from us before we’re given God’s grace. It’s costly because God lavishes grace so freely how could we do anything else but respond to it with our whole lives for the sake of the world. Bonhoeffer coached the local church to be a place where individuals can learn to act through their faith. Read The Cost of Discipleship. All are welcome for the book discussion after 10:30 worship on August 18th.

In times of societal stress, there can be either a temptation to look away from the things that make us uncomfortable or a temptation to confront others in ways that demean and degrade our shared humanity. We mute ourselves or we scream back. Things have gotten even more complicated these days as some other Christian denominations are the face of public Christianity, believing that Jesus is only on our country’s side and NOT on the side of the whole world so loved by God. The desire to distance from those Christians and to go quiet is understandable. But Christianity has always been practiced by a wide variety of people. See the 1st century Ephesian church as one example.

In the United States, our Founders separated the church and state with the belief that King George wasn’t any more divine than anyone else. Because of the Founders’ efforts, we are free to speak our minds and free to practice any religion in this country we call home. The first Amendment to the United States Constitution protects freedoms of religion, speech, press, assembly, and petition. As Jesus’ followers and as United States’ citizens, we are two things at once. It’s helpful that Christian theology makes space for being two things at once – saint and sinner, bound and free, fearful and courageous, weak and strong, wise and foolish. Being a faithful citizen fits nicely into the Founder’s framework. Things go awry when faithful people decide that the country must be a theocracy, that it must be Christian under divine authority. This is called Christian Nationalism and its neither Christian nor patriotic.

We freely worship this morning as Christians in a country that is NOT a Christian country. As our cousins in faith who are Jews and Muslims, as well as any number of spiritual or nonreligious folks, go about their Sunday mornings doing whatever they feel free to do.

As Jesus’ followers, listening to Mark’s gospel reading about John the Baptist’s death, how are we to understand the risks that we’re called into as Jesus’ followers on behalf of the world God loves? We tend to admire the courage of folks like John the Baptist and Dietrich Bonhoeffer after the fact, well, after their political executions anyway. But how do we hear prophets in our own day, calling us to account for the state of the world in which we all play a part. It’s easy to not be political when the current politics of the day are working in our favor. But how are we to act when the politics of the day don’t work in our neighbors’ favor? These are the tough questions we wrestle with when we speak against the Israeli government’s policies killing Palestinian people while we simultaneously stand with Jews in our families and around the world against antisemitism. Similarly, we speak to our own elected leaders about issues that may not personally affect us but affect our unhoused neighbors or our abused neighbors or our otherwise struggling neighbors.

More importantly, we speak to those elected leaders WITH our neighbors who are directly affected by policies that harm or exclude them. This is what the words accompaniment and advocacy mean – working with our neighbors for our neighbors. This is why our Augustana Human Dignity Delegates advocate and accompany alongside groups like Lutheran Advocacy Ministry Colorado and Together Colorado, groups of faith-based people who talk with and “petition” our public figures and elected leaders about issues of human dignity. (See Amendment I of the United States Constitution.)

We default so quickly into quiet self-preservation over and against lives being lost every day because of greed and political posturing. Yet, as the church we are told in scripture and in our worship that we are the body of Christ in the world. Christ the Beloved who freely bestows glorious grace through the cross. The risen Christ in whom we set our hope and from whom the riches of God’s grace are lavished upon us. When we are faced with the horrors of this world, we neither curl up in despair nor behave like the very enemy we say is the problem. Rather, we are Christ’s body in the world, revealing Christ courageously to the world with the lavish, glorious grace we first received from God. Something to celebrate as we sing…

#1050 in All Creation Sings Sometimes Our Only Song is Weeping

_________________________________________

[1] Matt Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Commentary on Mark 6:14-29 for Sunday, July 14, 2024. Commentary on Mark 6:14-29 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[2] Read Matthew 2, the whole chapter.

[3] Mark 1:14

___________________________________________

Amos 7:7-15 This is what [the Lord God] showed me: the Lord was standing beside a wall built with a plumb line, with a plumb line in his hand. 8 And the Lord said to me, “Amos, what do you see?” And I said, “A plumb line.” Then the Lord said,
“See, I am setting a plumb line
in the midst of my people Israel;
I will never again pass them by;
9 the high places of Isaac shall be made desolate,
and the sanctuaries of Israel shall be laid waste,
and I will rise against the house of Jeroboam with the sword.”
10 Then Amaziah, the priest of Bethel, sent to King Jeroboam of Israel, saying, “Amos has conspired against you in the very center of the house of Israel; the land is not able to bear all his words. 11 For thus Amos has said,
‘Jeroboam shall die by the sword,
and Israel must go into exile
away from his land.’ ”
12 And Amaziah said to Amos, “O seer, go, flee away to the land of Judah, earn your bread there, and prophesy there; 13 but never again prophesy at Bethel, for it is the king’s sanctuary, and it is a temple of the kingdom.”
14 Then Amos answered Amaziah, “I am no prophet, nor a prophet’s son; but I am a herdsman, and a dresser of sycamore trees, 15 and the Lord took me from following the flock, and the Lord said to me, ‘Go, prophesy to my people Israel.’ ”

Preaching, Sermons

Dance Lessons [OR Your Faith Has Not Failed You When You Can’t Get Better] Mark 5:21-43, Psalm 30, and Lamentations 3:22-33

Sermon photo:  Bollywood Jane Ensemble in rehearsals
Photography By Matthew Cawrey

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on June 30, 2024

[sermon begins after a long-ish reading from Mark; see the Psalm and Lamentations reading at the end of the sermon]

Mark 5:21-43  When Jesus had crossed again in the boat to the other side, a great crowd gathered around him; and he was by the sea. 22 Then one of the leaders of the synagogue named Jairus came and, when he saw him, fell at his feet 23 and begged him repeatedly, “My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well, and live.” 24 So he went with him.
And a large crowd followed him and pressed in on him. 25 Now there was a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years. 26 She had endured much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had; and she was no better, but rather grew worse. 27 She had heard about Jesus, and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, 28 for she said, “If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well.” 29 Immediately her hemorrhage stopped; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. 30 Immediately aware that power had gone forth from him, Jesus turned about in the crowd and said, “Who touched my clothes?” 31 And his disciples said to him, “You see the crowd pressing in on you; how can you say, ‘Who touched me?’ ” 32 He looked all around to see who had done it. 33 But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling, fell down before him, and told him the whole truth. 34 He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”
35 While he was still speaking, some people came from the leader’s house to say, “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the teacher any further?” 36 But overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the leader of the synagogue, “Do not fear, only believe.” 37 He allowed no one to follow him except Peter, James, and John, the brother of James. 38 When they came to the house of the leader of the synagogue, he saw a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly. 39 When he had entered, he said to them, “Why do you make a commotion and weep? The child is not dead but sleeping.” 40 And they laughed at him. Then he put them all outside, and took the child’s father and mother and those who were with him, and went in where the child was. 41 He took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha cum,” which means, “Little girl, get up!” 42 And immediately the girl got up and began to walk about (she was twelve years of age). At this they were overcome with amazement. 43 He strictly ordered them that no one should know this, and told them to give her something to eat.

[sermon begins]

People say, “Laughter is the best medicine.” It’s up there, for sure. Laughing until your sides hurt and you’re out of breath is about as good as it gets. But spontaneous laughter comes out of nowhere. You can’t order it up at a drive through. It feels amazing partly because it’s so rare. Oh sure, other things might work – watching comedy, hanging out with a funny friend, flipping a laugh-a-day calendar. Laughing is a vital and strange human activity that makes us feel better in the moment and has lasting effects for the day. But is it medicine? Curative? Mmmm…that’s a stretch. So maybe not laughter, but what about faith? Is faith medicine? We’re in a church. It’s not a stretch to ask a question about faith especially when the Bible story serves it. The bleeding woman was healed by touching Jesus’ clothes. Jairus’ daughter is resurrected after he brings Jesus to her. Jesus talks about faith. Is faith a medicine? Does it heal? An even more terrifying question, is faith required for healing?

The bleeding woman and Jairus’ undead daughter could easily be used to say such things. But we know differently, don’t we. If faith in Jesus were the magic cure all, then the world would be Christian, and no one would suffer. Our faith would be enough to cure every disease and problem. We can see with our own eyes and feel with our own heartbreak that that is not how this works. That’s not how any of this works. We would never sit at someone’s deathbed and say, “Well, I guess they didn’t have enough faith.” Or say to a dear friend whose child has just died, “Shoot, if only you’d had more faith and asked Jesus for more help.”

Then what could Jesus mean when he ties together faith and suffering, or more to the point, faith and healing? In Mark’s Gospel, Jesus has already done a bunch of healing with touch and words. He cast out unclean spirits and calmed a storm on the sea. His holiness, his life-restoring power, his superpower, are on full display.[1] Jesus said to the bleeding woman, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”

The Greek word sozo, translated in verse 34 as “made you well,” also means to be made whole; the word “healed” in this verse is a different Greek word. One interpretation is that being made whole by Jesus’ holiness, by the love of God, is different than being cured by medicine or other modern marvel.

When I was sick last year, I made a conscious decision to receive in love everything anyone said to me intending to be encouraging and supportive. Anyone, myself included, can say anxious, awkward things when someone we care about is sick and we try to say something rather than nothing. There were only two statements that I would reframe from my own faith: Everything happens for a reason and God doesn’t give you more than you could handle. I would say, “I know that some people find that idea comforting but for me, it’s more helpful to think that every situation is a chance for God’s love to be revealed.” Because sometimes the reason people suffer is environmental or genetic or behavioral or accidental and not of God at all. And there are incredibly stressful and horrific situations that are more than anyone can handle and certainly not of God. “Everything happens for a reason” and “God doesn’t give you more than you can handle” sound like they’re from the Bible but they are a common misinterpretation.

Without being aware that we’re doing it, we also jumble Bible verses like the reading from Lamentations today with stories like the bleeding woman and the undead daughter and think that God must be responsible for whatever terrible thing is happening. Lamentations is an important book that says something historical and specific about what was happening to God’s people in a time exile.[2]

Caution and care are necessary before we blame God for utterly human or earthly events, or carelessly mark God as a perpetrator of sin and suffering. The Bible’s book of First John says that, “God is love.”[3] If God is love, then God cannot be an agent of evil.

The Eucharistic Prayer during holy communion this summer says, “God of our struggles and celebrations, you have brought us this far along the way; you stayed with us in times of suffering and guided us on the path of love and light.” This prayer acknowledges God’s presence with us when we suffer. This is called the Theology of the Cross – God meets us in the darkest places and times of our lives. It’s one of many things that the cross means. The Eucharistic Prayer goes on to say that God “guided us on the path of love and light.” This part acknowledges that God’s holiness doesn’t make our lives perfect, stable or cured. God’s holiness makes our lives whole no matter what is happening in our lives. Our suffering will at times make us sad, angry, despairing, frustrated or whatever word you would give to your experiences. Faithful people are humans. We are human.

The peace offered by Jesus in our worst times can be felt deeply or not at all. It’s a peace offered by Jesus’ holiness, not our own. Wanting to live through a disease or injury, and doing everything in your power to be cured, means that we give ourselves a chance in the limited healing hands of modern medicine. Neither our determination nor our faith means we’re going to be cured. Our bodies are just too fragile. But our faith can help us to see our bodies and our diseases differently, to see God’s holiness differently.

Psalm 30 gives words to this holiness when the psalmist writes, “Weeping spends the night, but joy comes in the morning…you have turned my wailing into dancing.” The psalmist sings about pain and joy and God’s presence in the midst of it. Much like we do in worship when we sing and pray and sometimes even dance.

In worship, we learn God’s steps as we say prayers, sing hymns, and hear words in worship with language that comes directly from scripture. It’s like learning to dance.[4] When we take dance lessons, it takes a long time to make it look effortless. Not perfect. And, by the way, not actually effortless. That’s just what we get to see when a lifelong dancer dances. Living in faith and trust is like dance practice, formed week after week, day after day, by worship and scripture and Jesus’ holiness.

God is with us no matter how inelegantly we stumble through life and faith. God with us is God’s promise to us in Jesus. And we also have a good word to share with others about Jesus when our wailing and dancing move fluidly through the faith and cross of Jesus. Faith doesn’t make us superhuman. Faith helps us to acknowledge that we are oh-so-human. Not dredging up wholeness from within ourselves, but being made whole as Jesus heals our souls.

Thanks be to God and amen.

_______________________________________

[1] Matt Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Sermon brainwave conversation about Bible readings for Sunday, June 30, 2024. Working Preacher’s Sermon Brainwave: Sermon Brainwave 971: Sixth Sunday after Pentecost (Ord. 13B) – June 30, 2024 (libsyn.com)

[2] Skinner, Ibid.

[3] 1 John 4:16a

[4] C.S. Lewis says this ever more elegantly. See his quote from “Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer” here: A REFLECTION ABOUT WORSHIP – C.S…. – St. Aidan’s Anglican Church | Facebook

________________________________________

Psalm 30

I will exalt you, O Lord, because you have lift- | ed me up
and have not let my enemies triumph | over me.
2 O Lord my God, I cried | out to you,
and you restored | me to health.
3 You brought me up, O Lord, | from the dead;
you restored my life as I was going down | to the grave.
4 Sing praise to the Lord, | all you faithful;
give thanks in ho- | ly remembrance. R
5 God’s wrath is short; God’s favor | lasts a lifetime.
Weeping spends the night, but joy comes | in the morning.
6 While I felt se- | cure, I said,
“I shall never | be disturbed.
7 You, Lord, with your favor, made me as strong | as the mountains.”
Then you hid your face, and I was | filled with fear.
8 I cried to | you, O Lord;
I pleaded with | my Lord, saying,
9 “What profit is there in my blood, if I go down | to the pit?
Will the dust praise you or de- | clare your faithfulness?
10 Hear, O Lord, and have mer- | cy upon me;
O Lord, | be my helper.” R
11 You have turned my wailing | into dancing;
you have put off my sackcloth and clothed | me with joy.
12 Therefore my heart sings to you | without ceasing;
O Lord my God, I will give you | thanks forever. R

 

Lamentations 3:22-33

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
his mercies never come to an end;
23 they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
24 “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
“therefore I will hope in him.”

25 The Lord is good to those who wait for him,
to the soul that seeks him.
26 It is good that one should wait quietly
for the salvation of the Lord.
27 It is good for one to bear
the yoke in youth,
28 to sit alone in silence
when the Lord has imposed it,
29 to put one’s mouth to the dust
(there may yet be hope),
30 to give one’s cheek to the smiter,
and be filled with insults.

31 For the Lord will not
reject forever.
32 Although he causes grief, he will have compassion
according to the abundance of his steadfast love;
33 for he does not willingly afflict
or grieve anyone.

Sermons

Pride: All the Law and the Prophets Hang on Loving God and Each Other [OR The Greatest of All Shrubs is NOT a Good Story]

**sermon art: Rainbow Jesus by Tony Rubino at fineartamerica.com

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on June 16, 2024

[sermon begins after two Bible readings]

Mark 4:26-34 [Jesus] said, “The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground,27and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. 28The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. 29But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come.”
30He also said, “With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? 31It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; 32yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.”
33With many such parables he spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it; 34he did not speak to them except in parables, but he explained everything in private to his disciples.

2 Corinthians 5:6-10, 13-17 So we are always confident; even though we know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord—7for we walk by faith, not by sight. 8Yes, we do have confidence, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord. 9So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please him. 10For all of us must appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each may receive recompense for what has been done in the body, whether good or evil.
14For the love of Christ urges us on, because we are convinced that one has died for all; therefore all have died. 15And he died for all, so that those who live might live no longer for themselves, but for him who died and was raised for them.
16From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view; even though we once knew Christ from a human point of view, we know him no longer in that way. 17So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!

[sermon begins]

I’d been joking that my Installation to Senior Pastor last week was a little like praying over a potluck after we’d started eating. After the fact, I think that was a little glib on my part. That morning, I had butterflies in my stomach. Sure, there were logistics to worry about – nothing like having my installation at the same time as the Greek Orthodox festival two doors down that would make parking a premium. (A big shout out to Jordan, Max, John, and Craig who served as parking greeters at our lots that day.) But the butterflies weren’t about logistics. They were about the new call between us as congregation and pastor. While there’s been trust between us, developed over the past 11 years, it will take time to develop trust anew. A few weeks ago, I said something similar to the staff – that they know me in my former role but we’re all getting to know each other in my new role. I’d been thoughtful since Pastor Ann’s retirement about both the authority that I had and the authority that I didn’t have during that transition. I was also clear that I was neither auditioning nor campaigning while the Call Committee and I interviewed each other behind the scenes. I was reassured by the shift that the Call Committee themselves made during those interviews about how pastor and congregation could reimagine our partnership anew. No small feat after 11 years together. The butterflies in my stomach embodied that reality.

Actual butterfly insects are a symbol of resurrection, a symbol of God doing something new when the way forward is unclear. And we ARE a resurrection people in unclear times in the wider church and in the world. How handy that the Second Corinthians reading reminds us that we walk by faith and not by sight…urged on by the love of Christ…living not for ourselves but for him who died and was raised for us. It has been said about pastors that loving God is the only way to serve the church over time because people can be hard to love. I would tweak that slightly to say about the church (not just its pastors) that loving Jesus is the only way to serve the world over time because people, all of us, can be hard to love.

In preparation for my Installation, Bishop Jim Gonia asked me to pick scripture for the service and to tell him why I picked it. As Bishop preached last weekend, he highlighted my scripture choices and remembered my words, “I love Jesus and I love the church enough to spend time using my gifts and leading in this way.” I’m repeating it in my sermon today because I want you to hear it from me. “I love Jesus and I love the church enough to spend time using my gifts and leading in this way.” Different people in the congregation have asked me over the past month why I’m doing this, why did I take this call? Embedded in their questions echoes Pastor Karen’s opening sermon line from the Mark reading last Sunday, “Are you out of your mind?!” Her preaching spotlighted our identity as the resurrected body of Christ and that we are to be of Jesus’ mind. Truly though, we can only hope that we are of Jesus’ mind as we begin this new partnership between pastor and congregation. I know that I wouldn’t be doing it otherwise.

Which brings me to the two parable stories that Jesus tells in the gospel according to Mark. Jesus tells these two stories so quickly that we almost miss them. And they are gems that shine hope throughout the whole of Mark’s gospel. At first blush, the first story is really NOT a very good story.[1] Someone plants a seed. The seed grows. No one knows how. In Mark’s gospel, no one ever knows what’s going on or what to do. The disciples bumble around. There are three endings to the gospel and an academic debate about which one is correct. (See Mark 16.) But this little parable in Mark 4 shines a light on the mystery. Oh, it’s still a mystery. But the good news is that we get to call it a mystery. The problem may be that we want an answer. But that problem is ours. It’s not the parables’ problem, not Jesus’ problem, and certainly not God’s problem. The mystery is our problem. We’re just not that powerful and all we have to do is watch a plant grow to remember that we control very little. The mystery of God’s kingdom is that it will have its way. The relief IS the mystery. God’s kingdom does not depend on our righteousness or insight.[2]

The second parable is like the first but in the greatest of all shrubs we get to sing along with the birds nesting in its shade – nesting ancient images of the tree of life within the cross itself. Perhaps we could joke about planting a new church called “Greatest of all Shrubs Lutheran Church.” The greatest of all shrubs paints a humble picture of the absurd, audacious, and awe-inspiring kingdom that adheres to God’s imagination and not our own. Who are we to question the gifts and promise of God’s imagination? Yet we do it all the time.

Here’s one example. There are those of us who celebrate our queer siblings in Christ as God’s creations in God’s own image, trusting that God knows God’s purposes even when God’s people struggle with how many ways there are to be human and different from each other. The church has damaged queer folks for centuries, at best ostracizing and at worst killing. I’m pretty sure Jesus’ teaching to love your neighbor as yourself, the second greatest commandment after loving God, the two commandments on which “hang all the Law and the Prophets,” I’m pretty sure Jesus didn’t state an exemption clause for such murderous and mal-intent against our queer neighbors.[3] Making amends includes our congregations’ invitations to various church-sponsored Pride events. I hope some of you can go. More than making amends is celebrating our queer friends, family, and church members as wonders of creation along with the rest of humankind.[4]

As we wrestle with scripture, our namesake Martin Luther laid down some guidance about the Bible, prioritizing scripture that points us to Christ. He compared scripture to the manger that holds the Christ child – a splinter here, a bent nail there, but cradles the baby Jesus perfectly. This perspective rescues the faithful from making the Bible an idol, or viewing it as a science or history textbook, or as a newspaper…you get the idea. This means that not every word in the Bible is equal to every other word. The Bible’s content is weighted in favor of Christ and him crucified which also means that Jesus teaching about the first and second greatest commandment to love God and love our neighbor as ourselves bear the weight of all the Law and the Prophets. That’s the priority for all faithful people including queer faithful people.

I’ve always thought of myself as a courageous person. Oh sure, I’ve had foibles, fears and phobias but, when it came down to it, I thought that I was of good courage to say the hard things and to do the hard things. I was wrong. Recently I said to my family systems coach that I’m “differently courageous after cancer, chemo, and complete remission.” Like any good counselor, he asked me to say more. Oddly, I really can’t explain it all that well. I may melt down about getting things done in the time available, but the fearlessness in doing the things feels like the transforming love of God. There’s a clarity to knowing that we’re just not that powerful, that human fragility is true, that the limits of knowledge are true, and that we need each other as humankind on this small blue dot in an otherwise uninhabitable universe.

More importantly, God so loved this small blue dot that God showed up in Jesus to show us how to live and how to love. No human is above any other human in God’s love. The grace of God transforms and directs us by God’s will. Our congregation, dare we say a mere shrub branch, is a place to sing in the shade, a place where God’s creatures rest from labor and danger while we celebrate the goodness of our creator revealed in ourselves and our fellow creatures. It’s as Pauline as it gets in Second Corinthians when our human point of view is subsumed by Christ’s point of view. “For the love of Christ urges us on because we are convinced that One has died for all…And he died for all, so that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who died and was raised for them.”

May our courage be humbled and enlivened by the faith of Christ. Amen.

______________________________________________

[1] Matt Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Sermon Brainwave podcast for June 16, 2024. #969: Fourth Sunday after Pentecost (Ord. 11B) – June 16, 2024 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[2] Ibid.

[3] Matthew 22:37-40

[4] Genesis 1:26 – Then God said, “Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness…”

Preaching, Sermons

Bishop Jim Gonia’s sermon: Installation of Caitlin Trussell – John 2: 1-11

Bishop Jim Gonia preaching at my Installation to Senior Pastor on June 8, 2024

Augustana Lutheran Church, Denver CO

[sermon begins after two Bible readings; the Isaiah reading is at the end of the sermon]

1 John 4:16 God is love.

John 2:1-11 On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. 2Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. 3When the wine gave out, the mother of Jesus said to him, “They have no wine.” 4And Jesus said to her, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.” 5His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” 6Now standing there were six stone water jars for the Jewish rites of purification, each holding twenty or thirty gallons. 7Jesus said to them, “Fill the jars with water.” And they filled them up to the brim. 8He said to them, “Now draw some out, and take it to the chief steward.” So they took it. 9When the steward tasted the water that had become wine, and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew), the steward called the bridegroom 10and said to him, “Everyone serves the good wine first, and then the inferior wine after the guests have become drunk. But you have kept the good wine until now.” 11Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.

 

[sermon begins]

Beloved in Christ: God’s grace, mercy and peace are yours this day!

Pastor Caitlin, you’ve managed to do something no one else has done, as far as I can tell. In the roughly 220 installations at which I’ve preached in my twelve years as bishop, no one else has chosen this splendid gospel reading for this moment! Which is a little surprising when you think about it. After all, here is a well-known Jesus story set in the context of a joyous celebration marking a new partnership in life. Why not this story to mark the joyous celebration of a new partnership in ministry? You spotted it right away when you said to me: Most people in the world have a vague idea that Jesus turned water into wine. It’s a good story. It’s set at a party. It’s good to celebrate the fun, joyous times. Jesus and his friends and his mother were there. It’s easy to think that the Bible is so somber, yet look!

And yet as you also note, there’s more here: Jesus’ “hour not yet come” alludes to the cross and by extension to the suffering we experience as fragile creatures – a suffering you know something about. Yet you add: The church meets people across the spectrum of experience just as Jesus did. The scripture passage does it all.

Yes, Pastor Caitlin, it does!

And yet as we’ve heard, this reading from John isn’t our only Scripture today. We have this wonderful text from Isaiah 55, which as you note, shows that the Lord is up to something good – another joyous reading in the Lord’s own voice that promises peace. We also have this powerful one line from First John that proclaims: God is love. As you noted when describing your hopes for this installation and for your ministry: My hope is that people hear that God loves all of us because God is Love. Period. And that I love Jesus and I love the church enough to spend time using my gifts and leading in this way.

Friends here at Augustana, let me just underscore what your pastor said: I love the church enough to spend time using my gifts and leading in this way – in the way of God’s Jesus-shaped love. Do not count this lightly. At a time when so much uncertainly clouds our vision – including in the life of the church –when faith communities can be as much a cause for heartache and pain as for hope and joy – when more than one pastor has decided to call it quits because it’s just not worth it anymore, to have a pastor who loves Christ’s Church enough to fully invest herself  with you – offering her unique gifts in such a time as this – that is no small thing. It is indeed a reason to celebrate and give thanks to God for this new partnership!

With that in mind, let’s celebrate this moment by highlighting some key takeaways from this Jesus story that speak to your relationship as pastor and congregation embarking on a new chapter of partnership. 

Take-away number one: everyone has a part to play in the work of Jesus.

We call this a miracle story, but it’s really about how Jesus works among us. Note that he doesn’t lift a finger here. True, he speaks a word or two, but he doesn’t actually DO anything. A lot of other people do all sorts of things, and because they do, this work, this miracle happens. The part that each person plays counts.

Consider the bride and groom and their families. Their role is to invite Jesus, his disciples and his mother to begin with. That may not seem noteworthy, but the whole story is predicated on it!

Then there’s the role that Mary herself plays by sharing the problem that has arisen with Jesus. Jesus, they’re out of wine! And when Jesus suggests that this really isn’t a good time for this sort of thing, mom, Mary is unphased and instructs the servants to do whatever Jesus asks. Her part matters.

Because the servants do exactly as Mary asks. They follow Jesus’ instructions to fill the stone jars, set aside for the rite of purification, with water. And then, they draw the water out as instructed, and take it to the chief steward. Let’s be clear: without the part the “servants” play, there is no miracle!

The chief steward then plays his part by drawing attention to what has happened, proclaiming this to be the finest wine of the whole wedding feast, oddly saved for the end instead of being used up at the beginning. With this pronouncement, the work that Jesus has made happen goes public.

Even the disciples standing on the sidelines, have a part to play in this work of Jesus. This whole episode forms their faith in a particular way, so that as they continue their journey with Jesus, they do so with new understanding about him.

So yes, while this is a story about the miracle or work of Jesus, it is a story about Jesus’ work in which everyone has a role to play, without which, this work would not happen.

Which is a really critical reminder for you in this new chapter of partnership. As pastor and congregation you are called to be about the work of Jesus, and while it is indeed God’s work that Jesus is about, not yours or mine, Jesus makes sure that this work is carried about by our hands – by our feet, our lips, our participation. Which means that everyone has a part to play, everyone serves a role in this Jesus work. 

I have seen it too often in congregations once a pastor is called – even a pastor who has already been serving but now is in a new role, I’ve seen this collective leaning back with a big sigh that says: ah, the pastor’s here. She’ll take care of everything.

No, people of Augustana, she won’t. The ministry of this community of faith – the work of Jesus among you, through you – depends on the role that each and every person plays. Jesus set this pattern up at a wedding in Cana of Galilee. He could have just gotten up himself and filled the water jars, waved his hands over them and pronounced for all to hear that he just produced a new vintage!

But that’s not how Jesus does his work – then or now. Jesus works in and through us – sometimes in spite of us – but never apart from us. As a congregation in partnership with your pastor, lean deeply into this important take-away.

Take-away number two: the Jesus story of which you are a part is always bigger than what you yourself know.

When you read this story carefully you realize that no one has the whole picture of what’s going on at any given time – they only know what they’ve seen, heard or witnessed in their moment. It’s only when you bring all the perspectives together that a wider truth emerges.

Why does this matter? It’s very tempting in the life of a congregation for people to operate on the basis of what they alone know, rather than recognizing that there’s always more to the story of which they are a part. Assumptions are made, judgments are rendered based on partial perspective. Which is dangerous to the life of a community of faith, and often to its pastor. 

Regardless of what is happening in your midst, recognize that you only ever have your perspective, not the whole truth. Whenever possible, bring those different perspectives together to gain a fuller picture of what’s happening, but even then, learn to humbly recognize that there may be dimensions to what is happening in your midst that you simply don’t know and may never know. It’s OK – God’s still got this, and your part in the story still matters! 

Finally, take-away number three: recognize how – in the hands of Jesus – every obstacle becomes an opportunity, if not for a miracle, for a chance to witness God’s glory. 

I have often said, nothing is wasted in God’s ecology. God can and does use everything – be it an inconvenient situation or a challenging circumstance – be it the most daunting and painful experience – God uses all of this as raw material to bring forth something new and hopeful and life-giving – dare I say, glorious. Now to be clear, God is not the author of our pain or heartache, but God in Christ does meets us in every place we consider God-forsaken or unsolvable. And in those places, the crucified one not only carries our pain and burdens, God in Christ redeems them. God’s own cross-shaped glory is revealed.

Which means, that the obstacles or problems you will face as a congregation and pastor in this new chapter, these will never be the end of the story, but always a gateway for the work and glory of Jesus to be revealed – in ways that will usually surprise you. Kind of like water turning into wine at a wedding.

Beloved of Augustana, Pastor Caitlin: take to heart what this Jesus story offers on a day when you joyously celebrate your new partnership in ministry. There is good news here in knowing that everyone has a part to play in the work of Jesus, that you don’t need to know the whole story to be part of it. There is promise in witnessing again, how in the hands of Jesus, every obstacle becomes an opportunity for God’s glory to shine.

Thanks be to God!

AMEN

_______________________________________________________

Isaiah 55:8-12 For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
 nor are your ways my ways, says the LORD.
 9For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
 so are my ways higher than your ways
 and my thoughts than your thoughts.
 10For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven,
 and do not return there until they have watered the earth,
 making it bring forth and sprout,
 giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,
 11so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;
 it shall not return to me empty,
 but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,
 and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.
 12For you shall go out in joy,
 and be led back in peace;
 the mountains and the hills before you
 shall burst into song,
 and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.

 

Preaching, Sermons

The Life of the Party [OR The Sabbath is for Delight, Worship, and Laying Aside Ordinary Work]

 

**sermon art: Pentecost Dance by Glenda Dietrich Moore at glendadietrich.com/brighter-pentecost-dance-web/

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on June 2, 2024

[sermon begins after two Bible readings; there’s also one at the end of the sermon]

Mark 2:23 – 3:6 One sabbath [Jesus] was going through the grainfields; and as they made their way his disciples began to pluck heads of grain. 24The Pharisees said to him, “Look, why are they doing what is not lawful on the sabbath?” 25And he said to them, “Have you never read what David did when he and his companions were hungry and in need of food? 26He entered the house of God, when Abiathar was high priest, and ate the bread of the Presence, which it is not lawful for any but the priests to eat, and he gave some to his companions.” 27Then he said to them, “The sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the sabbath; 28so the Son of Man is lord even of the sabbath.”
3:1Again he entered the synagogue, and a man was there who had a withered hand. 2They watched him to see whether he would cure him on the sabbath, so that they might accuse him. 3And he said to the man who had the withered hand, “Come forward.” 4Then he said to them, “Is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the sabbath, to save life or to kill?” But they were silent. 5He looked around at them with anger; he was grieved at their hardness of heart and said to the man, “Stretch out your hand.” He stretched it out, and his hand was restored. 6The Pharisees went out and immediately conspired with the Herodians against him, how to destroy him.

Deuteronomy 5:12-15 Observe the sabbath day and keep it holy, as the Lord your God commanded you. 13Six days you shall labor and do all your work. 14But the seventh day is a sabbath to the Lord your God; you shall not do any work—you, or your son or your daughter, or your male or female slave, or your ox or your donkey, or any of your livestock, or the resident alien in your towns, so that your male and female slave may rest as well as you. 15Remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt, and the Lord your God brought you out from there with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm; therefore the Lord your God commanded you to keep the sabbath day.

[sermon begins]

I love a good party. Party clothes. Party food. Party drink. Party people. Laughter. Music. Dancing. New People. Longtime friends. Friendly strangers. I am still me, of course. We’re talking pretty chill parties. Party timing can be tough for us early to bed, early to rise peeps. One of my personal favorites was a sunrise party in late summer complete with classical guitar. Regardless, I love a party.

In our reading today, Jesus helps us imagine what it’s like at God’s party. God’s party, a.k.a. the Sabbath, was originally for Jews until the Christians crashed it. “From sundown on Friday until Saturday’s sunset, Jews encouraged one another to enjoy a day of delight (Nehemiah 8:9–12; Isaiah 58:13–14), worshiping the Lord (Isaiah 66:23; Ezekiel 46:3), laying aside ordinary work (Amos 8:5), and fighting only in self-defense (1 Maccabees 2:29–41).”[1] God’s party was a group identity. You knew who you were when you showed up. It said something about the Jews because the sabbath said something about God. For thousands of years before Jesus was born, it was quite unique that the sabbath was for every Jew and their animals and the strangers in their towns. The party wasn’t just for the fancy people. The party was for everyone.

Observing the Sabbath and keeping holy made the list of THE 10 Commandments. More than a recommendation to nap, the sabbath command is a surprising call to delight, to worship, and to lay aside ordinary work. 500 years ago, our denomination’s namesake, Martin Luther, argued that Christian worship is a celebration, not a sacrifice. For today’s purposes, I’d like to suggest that worship is a party. Granted, our style of worship makes for a pretty chill party, but it’s a party, nonetheless. See? Party clothes. Party food. Party drink. Party people. Laughter (even if it IS hiding behind our quiet smiles). Music. Dancing (can we call swaying “dancing?”). New People. Longtime friends. Friendly strangers.

Worship is a wide tent party. No invitations needed although invitations mean more people know that they can come to the party. Along that line, please note your announcement page for PRIDE events coming up. So many of our queer family, friends, and friendly strangers have a hard time trusting that the Jesus party is for them. And with very good reason as their lives have been threatened for much less. Yet even Jesus says that the sabbath is meant for humankind. God’s party is for everyone.

Here at Augustana, we say that, “Celebrating God’s grace, we welcome everyone to worship Jesus.” For us, God’s party IS a Jesus party. Each of us may have a slightly different idea about who Jesus is, but it’s possible that we could agree that Jesus is the Life of the Party. In that regard, it’s been interesting planning my Festival Blessing and Rite of Installation that we’re celebrating this Saturday. Some of our party guests are unchurched. Some of our party guests are multifaith, meaning they are a part of other religions that not Christianity. Is it possible to throw a Jesus party that is comfortable for everyone? Unlikely. But can we throw a Jesus party that gives non-Jesus people a glimpse as to why we throw a Sunday morning Jesus party every week? Maybe. We’ll see. We’re certainly going to try. It is really nice to have something fun to celebrate with a party Spirit.

My installation, just like every Sunday morning, will be traditionally Lutheran. And just like every Sunday morning, all of us Augustana folks are both guests and hosts. Guests because it’s really a Jesus party. We come for ourselves, to delight in God’s love and mercy for us. And we come to be challenged by God’s love to love our neighbors as ourselves as we confess where we fall short. More than guests, we are also hosts because we are a public church. Anyone can come to worship. Just like when we throw a party at our home and stick around to make sure that snacks are refilled and that extra ice is available, we as a congregation host new visitors and family members and neighbors who may walk through the door not knowing what to expect.

It may be hard to fathom but my pastoral conversations with people here run the gamut from people who are showing up to the Jesus party for the very first time to people who can trace their family’s generations back to small German churches where Martin Luther once preached. Those of you who have been around awhile, imagine not speaking the theological language of grace that we take for granted. Words and ideas that seem so simple are actually layered with subtext, interpretations, and complex theological histories over centuries, generated by brilliant academic minds and, we can only hope, faithful hearts.

Those dear Pharisees in the Bible story today were highly regarded in their Jewish communities. They were the keepers of the tradition in the first century, the patriarchs of rabbinic Judaism through which Jesus learned the Torah, what we call the Pentateuch, the first five books of the Bible. The Torah contains the 10 Commandments including our First Reading from the Bible’s book of Deuteronomy. The Pharisees reaction against Jesus’ teachings parallel our own reactions when our theological hackles are raised. It’s easy to understand their conspiracy with the Herodians to rid themselves of the free-spirited Jesus when we too conspire against people’s ideas that seem the opposite of our own. And once we attach unwanted ideas to other people, it makes it easier to kick them out of the party. Instead of greeters to the celebration, we become bouncers. And it happens, just like that [snap].

So we hold our host status lightly at the Jesus party. After all, we are only hosts as Jesus’ hands and feet in the world. Five years ago, we were barely talking about livestream worship. Three Augustana folks began a quiet conversation about it in the summer and fall of 2019 in order to better serve our home-centered folks. The discussion and the quality of the cameras picked up steam when the pandemic hit. If you had asked me five years ago whether I’d be presiding over communion, in which livestream worshipers were invited to commune at home with bread or cracker and wine or juice, I would have said “no” and questioned the theological premise for such a thing. Today, I talk to people who utterly depend on livestream worship to be a part of our Jesus party. Their gratitude knows no bounds. I talk with other people for whom livestream worship is how they find us and get comfortable worshiping before they ever step through the doors. In a world where the church has done so much harm, it’s helpful for some to find a quieter worship entry.

We still need to be in person together as much as possible – to sing, to serve and receive communion, to greet, to usher, and to welcome new people to the party. Robust and thriving worship means showing up together and being community together. And…AND, much to my surprise, we’re trusting that the Holy Spirit can expand the Jesus party, the party food, into people’s bellies we don’t get to see or haven’t met yet. As the writer of Second Corinthians puts it, “For it is God who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ; but we have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us.”

In other words, what’s to stop the Holy Spirit from blowing where it will to include people in the Augustana community that we here in person don’t get to see? Nothing. The Holy Spirit will stop at nothing to shine God’s light into the darkness. It goes a long way to remember that we are both guests and hosts of the Jesus party on the sabbath. All of us enter the party by the grace of God. Every single one of us. It can be hard to remember that we host on behalf of the One who calls us to the sabbath to delight, to worship, and to lay aside ordinary work – the Holy One who is the Life of the Party…or, more accurately, the Life – Death – Life of the party. Thanks be to God. And amen.

_______________________________________________

[1] C. Clifton Black, Professor of Biblical Theology, Princeton Theological Seminary, NJ. Commentary on Mark 2:23—3:6 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary. For June 2, 2024.

_______________________________________________

2 Corinthians 4:5-12 We do not proclaim ourselves; we proclaim Jesus Christ as Lord and ourselves as your slaves for Jesus’ sake. 6For it is the God who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.
7But we have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be made clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us. 8We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; 9persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; 10always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies. 11For while we live, we are always being given up to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may be made visible in our mortal flesh. 12So death is at work in us, but life in you.

 

Preaching, Sermons

Holy Friendship – John 15:9-17

**sermon art: Crucifixion in Yellow by Abraham Rattner (1953)

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on May 5, 2024

[sermon begins after the Bible reading]

John 15:9-17 [Jesus said to his disciples:] 9“As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. 10If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love. 11I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete.
12“This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. 13No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. 14You are my friends if you do what I command you. 15I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father. 16You did not choose me but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last, so that the Father will give you whatever you ask him in my name. 17I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.”

[sermon begins]

Friends make life fun, and challenging, and good, and funny, and frustrating, and great. Friends can be around for the long haul or sometimes only for a particular season of life. Some people are inclined to talk about close friends as besties. Others simply let each friend defy description and hierarchy. Most people would say that friends are essential. We could argue that Jesus thought that friends were essential, too. Jesus said to his disciples, “I do not call you servants any longer, because the servant does not know what the master is doing; but I have called you friends, because I have made known to you everything that I have heard from my Father; you did not choose me, but I chose you.”[1] No longer servants. Friends. That’s astounding for Jesus to say. And it’s a particular friendship. Jesus defines it. The disciples are Jesus’ friends because they’re in the know about God.

Jesus shared with them what he heard from God the Father. Bam. Friends! Friendship connected with God means something. It means something holy because God is the source of holiness and when we say something is holy, we mean it is something touched by God – whether that’s a person, thing, time, or place.[2] Holiness is not limited to the church. Of course, God is not restricted by such feeble constraints. Bible story after Bible story remind us that God acts where God will and with who God wills, not only in the places or people we think God should be acting. But when Jesus connected friendship and God, he was talking about holy friendship of a particular kind. It’s a good day to talk about what that means for being church because Jesus taught what it means in our reading today.

His teaching is part of what’s called the Farewell Discourse in the Gospel of John, chapters 14-17. Jesus talked about what holy friendship means as he said farewell to his friends. He knew they would need that connection to sustain their witness as their day-to-day world became more challenging after his death. As they longed to have Jesus back with them, they would need to turn towards each other in the love of holy friendship with the deep conviction that their lives belonged first to God and by extension they belonged to each other.

Jesus made holy friendship simple. Not easy. Simple. Lives shared in the witness of Jesus’ good news means the love of God is at its core. Jesus revealed God’s love in his life, ministry, death, and resurrection. Holy friendship includes sharing Jesus’ ways with each other, being Jesus to each other. We preach Christ crucified and we are the resurrected body of Christ in the world. This means that suffering doesn’t have the last word. Love does.

In the simplest of terms, Jesus showed up for milestones like a wedding and a funeral.[3] Pausing to observe life’s moments with holy friends recognizes God’s promise of presence with us in every situation, good or ill. Last Sunday in worship, we celebrated with our young holy friends graduating from high school. Lifting them in prayer during their time of transition. This coming Wednesday, 60+ Ministry will worship together and eat lunch afterwards. In one day last week, I met with three sets of holy friends – parents planning a baptism, another family planning a funeral, and a couple planning their wedding. (My first hat trick as a pastor.[4]) What do these things have in common? God is in the middle of these events with God’s promises of faith, hope, and love through celebration and suffering. Showing up for each other’s milestones builds community through the bonds of holy friendship, belonging to each other in the name of Jesus.

Right after the wedding of Cana in John chapter 2, where Jesus performed his miracle of turning water into wine, we’re invited into a different story. Jesus cleared the temple of bad business practices that hurt people and worked against the community.[5] The story of Jesus’ anger and how we think about the church helps us tend to the business of the church without turning the church solely into a business. Fiscal responsibility and attending to the business of the church is worthy, it’s just not the only or last word. Jesus’ teaching about holy friendship adds to that nuance. Stewarding our resources for both the good of this faith community and the wider community forms a tension from which we witness to Christ’s love for us and for the world. Our holy friendship as stewards isn’t easy. We have different ideas about how best to use the money, time, and talents that God first gave us.

Last week, Pastor Gail preached about Peter’s redemption and transformation after the resurrection in John, chapter 21.[6] In his fear during Jesus’ trial, Peter denied knowing Jesus three times. After the resurrection, Jesus asked Peter three times if he loved him. Each time, Peter said, “Yes, Lord, I love you.” That scripture, Peter’s longing for Jesus to hear him, wrecks me every time. Three denials. Three affirmations of love and a way to make amends as Jesus told Peter to feed his sheep, to tend to the beloved people who belong to God and each other. Grace upon grace was bestowed on Peter in those moments. If Peter’s example is too lofty, let’s visit the woman caught in adultery in John, chapter 8.[7] She was a dead woman walking, about to be legally executed by stoning.  Jesus wielded reckless grace on her behalf while inviting the men around her into self-examination of their own sin. He said to them, “Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” With that grace-filled challenge, is any wonder that Jesus ended up executed himself?

We follow the example of Jesus in our life together. In our best moments, we love each other across healthy boundaries for our common good. Do we sometimes hurt each other by the things we do and the things we leave undone? You bet. Directly addressing hurt and shame with the people who hurt us is what holy friendship looks like. We as the church get to practice Jesus’ teaching over and over again. Holy conversations follow the example of Jesus’ conversations with Nicodemus in John chapter 3 and the woman at the well in John chapter 4. Holy conversations that name both how we are hurt and how we hurt others are a call to grace. Grace upon grace to know ourselves, too. To laugh at ourselves, shake our heads at ourselves, and open ourselves to something inside of us shifting by way of that grace so that we can better love each other, including loving our very own selves. That’s holy friendship, figuring out how to extend grace to each other because we are holy friends, yoked to Jesus by Jesus for each other.

We belong to each other through no work of our own as we do the work of belonging to each other. Jesus said, “…you did not choose me, but I chose you.” Through our baptisms by water, into Christ’s death and resurrection, the Holy Spirit works the wonders of transformation, giving us spiritual gifts for building up the body of Christ as a place of reckless belonging, a place of imperfect, holy friendship for God’s sake, for our sake, and for the sake of the world. Amen.

_____________________________________

[1] John 15:15-16a

[2] Frederick Buechner, “Holy” in Wishful Thinking (New York: Harper Collins Publishers, 1973, 1993), 45.

[3] John 2: Jesus first miracle of turning water into wine at the Wedding of Cana; John 11: The raising of Lazarus.

[4] A hat trick is a sports term that applies to achievements that happen in groups of three like a hockey player who scores three points in one game.

[5] John 2:13-25

[6] John 21:15-19

[7] John 8:1-11

Preaching, Sermons

Worthy of Wonder, a sermon for Easter – Mark 16:1-8

**The Empty Tomb by Julia Stankova (2003) painting on wooden panel

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on March 31, 2024

[sermon begins after Bible reading]

Mark 16:1-8  When the sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint [Jesus’ body]. 2And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. 3They had been saying to one another, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?” 4When they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back. 5As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed. 6But he said to them, “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. 7But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.” 8So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.

[sermon begins]

There is classic question asked by Christians over the centuries. We regularly ask, “What does this mean?” The question invites wonder. We wonder about faith, scripture, Jesus, life, love, enemies, and more. Not only do we wonder, but sometimes we disagree. The disagreement isn’t always pretty – note that there are multiple flavors of Christians. But at its best, the question opens us to curiosity and wonder – “What does this mean?” The question is quite Biblical. In our Bible story this morning, Mary Magdalene, Salome, and Mary the mother of James, were in a whole heap of wonderment, reacting to the unknown and uncontrollable, and trying to make sense of a mystery. Because that’s what humans do. That’s what we do when we’ve been through the ringer like those women. It’s good to wonder.

The events leading up to Jesus’ death were shocking. He entered Jerusalem at the top of his game, his followers lined the parade route and waved palm branches, celebrating Jesus’ entrance into the city as if nothing could stop him. But he was stopped in dramatic fashion – betrayed, arrested, charged, tortured, denied, and nailed to a cross. Not just stopped. Stopped dead. Small wonder that the women at the empty tomb couldn’t wrap their heads around it, they had watched their teacher and friend die three days before.[1] Jesus wasn’t surprised. He’d been predicting his death. His death was the inevitable end to his ministry of unconditional love and grace. Hate’s last gasp, if you will, because God’s love is that powerful. Hate will always try to do away with reckless love because it’s just too threatening to the powers that be. Love is unpredictable. Love is a wonder.

Wondering about Jesus’ death before he left behind an empty tomb helps us remember that it was not the violence of his death that redeems us. Nor was his death planned to appease an angry God or a hungry devil. Jesus’ execution was unavoidable.

While it’s hard enough to believe that there’s a God who loves you, it’s downright offensive that God loves your enemies as much as God loves you. This is what riled up the people who killed him. Even so, Jesus’ death reminds us that God will not raise a hand in violence against us, even when we try to kill God. Jesus is the incarnation of God, taking violence into himself on the cross, transforming death through SELF-sacrifice, and revealing a divine love powerful enough to leave behind an empty tomb.

Those women at the tomb, what chance did they have describing such an unexplainable, wild thing after everything they’d just gone through. It’s no surprise that they fled the tomb in terror and wonder, silenced by their own fear. On Easter, we gather in wonder alongside those women. We are not so different from them, really. Making sense of an empty tomb? What does it mean? What could it mean? The empty tomb is a wonder.

The empty tomb was so full of wonder that it silenced the women. “They said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” Fear and silence were their starting point, but we must assume that one of them finally broke. In the weeks, months, and years after Jesus’ birth, ministry, crucifixion, and resurrection, Jesus’ followers told the story bit by bit, sharing it with each other and then more people, and finally writing it down. Theirs was a similar process to ours. Shaky with doubt or trusting and celebratory this Easter, we seek to understand the promises of the cross and resurrection by asking what they mean. Slowly, a piece of evidence here, an observant comment there, a Bible story now aligning with a random story you heard but can’t remember where, finally an experience in your life that ties the pieces together. Our stories are a wonder.

There is a story for each of us. Of course there is, even if we don’t think of it that way. In fact, I’d guess that if I were to ask you whether your story is worthy, you may say, “yes,” but also silently wonder about whether it is truly worthy or whether you yourself are worthy. There are many messages out there that other people’s stories are more important than our own – at school, at work, on the medias, in the movies. Those messages that elevate others at the expense of our own story are lies.

Each of our stories is about a life that God so loves. If, as the Bible says, God so loves the world, and you’re in the world, your life is worthy of God’s love, and worthy of love period. There’s no Venn diagram. Just one big circle, well, more like a planet…or actually, no, bigger than a planet…let’s go with universe, yeah, that’s it, universe! You, your life, your story, no matter how beautiful or messy or messed up it may be, is worthy of the love of God. You are a wonder.

Sometimes that seems to be the hardest thing to believe – that you are worthy of love – deep down in the darkness, in whatever tomb you’ve enclosed yourself in, shrouded in the illusion of safety. The wonder of it all is that God loves you first. Before you wake up in the morning. Before you make your first move. When you make your first move. You are beloved. We make it all kinds of complicated, but it really is that simple. We cannot screw it up or alter God’s love in any way. People will try to tell you that you can. That there’s a limit to how much even God can love. But the message of the cross and the empty tomb is that there is no limit to how much God loves you. That is the Easter promise worth the wonder. Alleluia. And amen.

_____________________________________

[1] Mark 15:40-41

Preaching, Sermons

The Goodness of Good Friday – The Gospel of John, chapters 18 and 19

**sermon art: The Crucifixion with Jesus Mother and the Beloved Disciple by Laura James.

Pastor Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on March 29, 2024

John 18 and 19 – read the whole thing elsewhere if you’d like – sermon begins after this brief excerpt:

John 19:17–18, 25b–27 So they took Jesus; and carrying the cross by himself, he went out to what is called The Place of the Skull, which in Hebrew is called Golgotha. There they crucified him, and with him two others, one on either side, with Jesus between them.

Meanwhile, standing near the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing beside her, he said to his mother, “Woman, here is your son.” Then he said to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” And from that hour the disciple took her into his own home.

[sermon begins]

How are we to understand the goodness of Good Friday? A violent execution seems an odd thing to commemorate much less celebrate, especially in a time when the world is wrestling with disturbing violence and deep pain. It’s really important today to understand that it’s not the violence of the cross that is redemptive. It’s not the pain of Jesus that saves us. It’s easy to get lost in the message of the cross because the earliest Jesus followers who wrote down their experiences couldn’t quite figure it out either.

The goodness of Good Friday has to do with God. More specifically, the goodness of Good Friday has to do with who God is in Jesus. The Gospel of John argues that God is Jesus and Jesus is God. The love of God in Jesus, the audacity of grace personified in Jesus, the ultimate power of that love, so enraged his enemies and fueled the mob mentality that ultimately killed him. Jesus ate meals with unlovable people, he had public conversations with women no one spoke to, and he had secret conversations with religious leaders who opposed him by day. The list of his ever-expanding circle of grace and love is endless. Finally, when the threat of his grace, the threat about who is included in the love of God, became too great, he was killed for it. Grace and unconditional love were just too threatening. When Jesus predicted his death, it was the inevitable end that could be anticipated. Hate’s last gasp, if you will, because love is the greatest power and hate will always try to do away with it.

The goodness of Good Friday reminds us that we are not left alone in suffering. God suffers with us. God absorbs our suffering into God’s heart. Good Friday also tells the truth about suffering caused by violence. Large acts of violence are obvious. There are also the smaller acts of violence that destroy relationships and murder people’s spirits and our own spirits – lies, gossip, passive aggression, dissing someone’s body rather than debating their ideas or confronting their hurtful behavior…the list of our violent ways is as endless as we are creative in inflicting ourselves against the ones we love and the ones we hate.  The level we inflict suffering on each other, and on the earth and all its creatures, knows no bounds.

The goodness of Good Friday reminds us that the cross is the place where we struggle in the darkness and the very place where God meets us. We live in this darkness in different ways – failure, addiction, confusion, doubt – our darkest places that we don’t tell anyone about. Most of us are capable of just about anything given the right set of circumstances. The goodness of Good Friday isn’t about pointing away from ourselves at other people who cause suffering. It’s also a sacred space to wonder and confess the pain that we cause as well.

Confessions of sin extend to systems that we’re a part of – institutions, countries, governments, families, friendships, communities, etc. Systems that hold us captive to sin from which we cannot free ourselves. What does free us? Jesus on the cross. Jesus on the cross holds up a mirror in which we can see our own reflections. Reflections that reveal the sin we inflict on each other and cannot justify. Oh sure, we try riding that high horse, cloaking our sin in self-righteousness. But the cross tells us otherwise. The cross also surprises us with grace in the face of sin.

We often act without awareness of how our actions may hurt someone else. That’s why our worship confessions talk about things we’ve done and things we’ve failed to do. That’s why we talk about our sin. Sin gives us language for the way we hurt other people and ourselves with our actions – actions that separate us from each other and God. Good Friday’s goodness creates space to experience life-giving compassion from the heart of God in the face of our sin. God’s SELF-sacrifice in Jesus also reminds us that Jesus’ death isn’t payment to an angry God or a hungry devil. That’s just divine child abuse. Jesus is a revelation of the goodness of God, taking violence into himself on the cross, transforming death through SELF-sacrifice, and revealing the depth of divine love.

God reveals the truth of our death dealing ways while reminding us that God’s intention for humankind is good.[1] Jesus was fully human and fully divine. His life’s ministry and his death on the cross reveal our humanity and the goodness for which we were created. The cross awakens that goodness. Jesus’ full and fragile humanity was displayed on the cross. He sacrificed himself to the people who killed him for his radical, excessive love. He would not raise a hand in violence against the people and the world that God so loves. Jesus’ self-sacrificing goodness clears our eyes to see God’s intention for our human life together.

Our connection with each other is also revealed in the goodness of Good Friday. From the cross, Jesus redefined connection, kinship, and companionship. Hear these words again from the gospel reading:

“Meanwhile, standing near the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. 26When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing beside her, he said to his mother, “Woman, here is your son.” 27Then he said to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” And from that hour the disciple took her into his own home.” [2]

From the cross, with some of his last breaths, Jesus did this incredible thing. It’s amazing. Jesus connects people through suffering. This is not a reason for suffering. Simply one truth about it. When we suffer and feel most alone, Jesus reaches out from his own suffering to remind us that we have each other. God’s heart revealed through the cross destroys the illusion of our aloneness and connects us to each other once more. In God we live and move and have our being through God’s goodness in Jesus on the cross. In each other, we’re given kinship and appreciation for the gift and mystery of being alive.

In the end, the cross isn’t about us at all. It’s about the self-sacrificing love of Jesus who reveals God’s ways to show us the logical end of ours – our death-dealing ways in the face of excessive grace and radical love. We struggle to believe that God applies this grace and love to everyone. It’s hard enough to believe that there’s a God who loves us. It’s downright offensive that God loves our greatest enemy as much as God loves us. But that is God’s promise in the goodness of Good Friday. There is nothing you can do or not do to make God love you any more or any less. God loves you through the cross, in the darkest places that you don’t tell anyone about. Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.[3] God’s arms are opened to all in the outstretched arms of Jesus on the cross, receiving us by God’s reckless grace because God is love.[4] The goodness of Good Friday is that God loves us. God loves you. Amen.

__________________________________________________

[1] Genesis 1:26-31 God creates “humankind.”

[2] John 19:25b-27

[3] Romans 8:38-39

[4] 1 John 4:7-21

Preaching, Sermons

Who has been Jesus for you? John 3:14-21 [OR Would Someone Please Put John 3:17 on the Poster, Too?]

**sermon art: Jesus Washes the Disciples Feet by Luke Allsbrook, oil on canvas (2018)

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on March 10, 2024

Ugh, you know, the thing I don’t like about Jesus is that he was always telling his followers to get their revenge, to trash talk, to really stick it to people. He was super mean all the time. He didn’t like weddings. And little children really got under his skin. I should probably stop there on the slight chance that anyone thinks I’m serious. Obviously, Jesus was none of those things. The stories we have about Jesus and the things he said reveal an incredible human. Non-Christians say how great life would be if Christians actually lived like Jesus lived. Many people who aren’t Christians try to live their lives as Jesus lived. Just as those of us who say we follow Jesus try to follow his example.

When we welcome new members into Lutheran churches like this one, we call it affirmation of baptism. There are promises we make as part of the affirmation of baptism when we join a church. The last few weeks we’ve covered a few of our promises: to live among God’s faithful people, to hear the word of God and share in the Lord’s supper, and to proclaim God in Christ through word and deed. Today, we’re highlighting our promise, “to serve all people, following the example of Jesus.” Our Bible readings today help us remember a very important part of this promise. Jesus is Jesus and we are not, even if we are called to follow his example.

Verse 17 of the John reading takes that one step further. If Jesus didn’t come into the world to condemn the world, then why would any Jesus follower think it’s their job to condemn people? I shared at Evening Prayer last Wednesday that I was raised in two denominations that painted the scariest portrait of God you could imagine, and that God sent Jesus to police the planet for evil deeds of any size. When I left home, I left Jesus behind. Why take him to the party if he was just going to frown away? And then I married a Lutheran Christian. We baptized our babies and made the promises to them that you hear me ask parents or baptized adults to make at our baptismal font. What changed? God didn’t. I did.

John 3:16 and 17 were written as a continuous thought in the original Greek.[1] “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

God’s love for the world revealed in Jesus is good news because it reveals God’s goodness and light. Jesus was not sent to condemn the world but to save it. Salvation in John’s gospel is focused on life. Eternal life today because God is eternal, and God abides with us right now as we abide with God right now. How would it change Jesus’ message for you to think about salvation that way rather than a dividing line at death? Why would a God whose love for the world, who draws all people to God, suddenly turn against people when they die? Have we projected our own fear about dying onto God?

These questions are relevant to today’s reading because people have used verse 16 over the centuries to blast people beyond God’s love. It’s what happens when verse 16 is separated from verse 17. It’s what happens when belief is set as the highest power above even God’s grace, as if the power of God’s grace could be limited by our beliefs and doubts which is, of course, ludicrous. In case we think too highly of our own power, hear the reminder from Ephesians – “For by grace you have been saved through faith, this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not the result of works, so that no one may boast.” Faith as a gift from God, by definition, means that belief cannot be a work. We don’t dredge belief and faith up in ourselves. That’s a real mind bender, isn’t it?

We haven’t focused on the Hebrew Bible’s stories of the Old Testament much over the last few weeks. Those readings in worship have emphasized the covenants that God makes to God’s people. Each covenant God made is evidence that the promise to some was for the benefit of many. From God’s covenant with Abraham would come blessing for the whole world.[2] From God’s covenant with the Hebrews led by Moses, would come life-giving commandments that brought peace among neighbors.[3] And from God’s covenant with the whole world through Jesus, would come a love so powerful that it transforms hearts and minds.[4]

Which brings us back to the baptismal promise we make “to serve all people, following the example of Jesus.” We don’t make this promise to serve in order to grow the church or to win souls for God or to prove how cool our theology is. We serve following the example of Jesus because as the Ephesians reading tell us, “…we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life.”

I’d like you think for a minute about the people who have served you like you imagine Jesus served people in the Bible stories. Call to mind names and faces and what happened. It may be someone who prayed for you.[5] It may be someone who healed you like a chiropractor or physician or counselor.[6] It may be someone who didn’t let a past harm define you.[7] It may be someone who has more grace for your flaws than you ever could for yourself and doesn’t condemn you.[8] It may be someone who stayed up with you late at night, talking when you needed it most.[9] It may be someone who fed you when you had no way to pay them back.[10] As I prepared this sermon, so many faces and names swam through my mind.

Most recently, it was my friend, Lee McNeil. Lee and I worked on human dignity policies and legislation with Together Colorado especially related to race and justice. I called her Sister Lee as did many others who knew her. It was an honorary title of respect for a beloved and wise elder. As the great granddaughter of an enslaved person, and the triple-great granddaughter of someone who owned African people, our friendship evolved over the ten years of working together. A few weeks ago, we were asked to write an opinion piece together supporting the Racial Equity Study bill moving through the Colorado legislature that will increase understanding of the generational impact of law and policy on Black Coloradans. Sister Lee and I wrote it in my office here at the church. First we reminisced over people we knew because we hadn’t talked in over a year. Then we kept right on talking while I typed and read out loud and we talked more and edited the letter together.

At the end of our conversation that day, I told her how grateful I am for our friendship and for her grace while I learned things I could never have learned without her loving instruction and willingness to just talk. We hugged. She told me she loved me and I told her back. There were a flurry of emails back and forth with final edits and I submitted our letter to the paper. A week later I found out that Lee died suddenly. A long life well lived. I was stunned and heartbroken and incredibly grateful to know her and unbelievably grateful to have seen her right before she died. Sister Lee was kind and thoughtful and fierce. She loved Jesus and she served people following the example of Jesus.

I’ve watched many of you love each other similarly. Oh sure, there are disappointments, disagreements, and sometimes frayed nerves. We are human after all. But we’re reminded time and again how much God loves us and we’re reminded that Jesus commanded us to love each other and then showed us how to do it. The list of things that Jesus did for people is long. If there’s not someone coming to mind at the moment who has been Jesus to you, take this question out of worship with you today. Who has served you as Jesus served and, in some small way, helped you understand just how much God must love you? Because that’s what our service to other people does, it reminds them that God loves them too. This reminder is no small thing in a world that is in desperately in need of Jesus’ transforming love.

Thanks be to God and amen.

_____________________________________________

[1] Joy J. Moore, Professor of Biblical Preaching, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Sermon Brainwave podcast for Bible readings on Sunday, March 10, 2024. www.workingpreacher.org/podcasts/952-fourth-sunday-in-lent-mar-10-2024

[2] Genesis 12:1-5 The Call of Abram

[3] Exodus 20:1-17 The Ten Commandments

[4] Acts 9:1-22 The Conversation of Saul/Paul

[5] John 17:1-26 Jesus’ Prays for his disciples.

[6] See all of Jesus’ healing stories.

[7] John 8:1-11 Woman caught in adultery.

[8] Luke 22:54-62 Peter denies Jesus.

[9] John 3:1-21 Nicodemus visits Jesus by night.

[10] Mark 6:30-44

Preaching, Sermons

The Wonder of It All [OR Hope Dazzles on a Mountaintop] Mark 9:2-9

**sermon art: The Transfiguration by Armando Alemdar Ara, 2004

Pastor Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on February 11, 2024 – Transfiguration of our Lord

[sermon begins after the Bible reading]

Mark 9:2-9 Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, 3and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. 4And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. 5Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” 6He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. 7Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” 8Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus.
9As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead.

[sermon begins]

After being ordained and called here 11 years ago on February 2nd, my very first sermon was on February 10th and was about Jesus’ transfiguration. I synthesized scripture from Jesus’ baptism to the transfiguration, did theological flips from the transfiguration mountaintop to the rugged cross on a hill faraway, and was generally pretty pleased with my first effort. That was before we used to process the cross at the beginning and end of worship, so after worship I was walking down the pulpit side aisle to go shake hands. Walking in front of me were two women, dear friends to each other and over the years they became dear to me. They were disappointed in my sermon. Yup. Right down to shaking their heads about it. They wanted to enjoy Jesus’ Transfiguration for itself, not for what came before and what came after. I learned a few important lessons that day. One, don’t lurk behind folks after worship unless you want to know what they really think. Two, not every sermon is for everybody. And three, maybe it’s worth it to stay in the wonder of it all when given the chance.

Wonder helps us stay in the moment. Rather than ask “why” about the past and “what now” or “what’s next” about the future, we so often leave wonder in the side aisle. Maybe you can relate. We know that the church world is rife with analyzing the past and dreaming into the future. We ask often, “what went well and what could we do better next time?” Ministry volunteers and staff just wrote 2023 annual reports that we’ll talk about in next Sunday’s Lunch & Learn (a shameless plug, in case you’re curious). Just last week we had a liturgy planning meeting that took us through Pentecost Sunday at the END OF MAY. My siblings and I are planning a trip for NEXT JANUARY 2025. You each have your own pasts and your own future plans so, just for today, for this moment, I’m going to ask that we enjoy the transfiguration and hang out with Jesus on the mountaintop and be dazzled by the wonder of it all.

But before we’re dazzled, it’s good to acknowledge that Bible stories like Jesus’ transfiguration are weird. The weirdness, the other worldliness, the mystical elements can leave us wanting to know what actually happened up on that mountain. Inquiring minds want to know. It’s just how we’re built. At my gym, we start class with warmups during which we share our name and answer a Question of the Day. Last week, the question was asked, “If you could have dinner with anyone in history, who would it be?” I answered, “My name is Caitlin and I would have dinner with Jesus, I know that’s a little cliché coming from me, but I just want to hear Jesus talk about himself, his experiences and what he thought he was doing.” As I finished my answer, one gym friend earnestly said, “That’s exactly what I was going to say, I want to know those things.” He settled on having dinner with Jesus’ mother Mary to fill in the knowledge gaps. After the workout, we chatted a bit more and I learned that my workout friend is an atheist. It was a very cool conversation and we agreed that faith and atheism are both unprovable, two sides of the same faith coin. Although here, today in church, the things we take on faith can open our eyes to the wonder of it all.

Since we have our dinner with Jesus during holy communion, we take the story of Jesus’ transfiguration on faith. Time collapsed in a dazzling light show. Even Jesus’ clothes took on heavenly shine. Moses and Elijah, long dead, talked with Jesus. That undead discussion is eerie and otherworldly. So much so that Peter spoke without knowing what to say. His terror at the vision before him was so overwhelming that he reacted with a plan for what came next rather than pause in awe of the transcendent mystery. It’s common to critique Peter – to laugh at him and say don’t be like him. But we are Peter. Our brains are busy, and we want to make sense of things, to feel bigger than the mystery or somehow in control of it. Transfiguration is a good reminder that mystery will have its way whether we’re ready for it or understand it. It’s a good reminder of the wonder of it all.

Today’s spotlight on the many volunteers who make the work of the church work, reveals an astounding mystery unto itself. People so committed to God, each other, and the world God loves, that you give an hour or two or more a week to the ministries you hold dear. Ministries of welcome and worship. Ministries of leadership and love of neighbor. Ministries that deepen faith and offer hope and healing regardless of cure. Hours upon hours of volunteering that reject a self-centered view of the world in the face of a struggling world. Unbelievable things inspiring unbelievable things. How do we even get our heads around the wonder of it all?!

Last Sunday, Pastor Gail preached that church is a ready-made house of hospitality and socialization and purpose. We could add that church worship is ready made space for transcendent mystery. Maybe not every week for everyone but there are moments when mystery has its way. For me it’s when songs soar from the choir or when we all sing together raising the roof, but it’s also that moment when the song stills into silence. That heartbeat or two before the next sounds begin, when your heart fills until tears brim onto your eyelashes. Or sometimes, the connection with Jesus and all that is holy during communion has no words to describe it. The meal where no one is asked to stay away. Everyone can eat! A meal leaving you not knowing what to say in the mystery of unconditional divine love. Or even in those moments when you drift out of a sermon, tuning out the words, only to receive an overwhelming sense of love and hope that are beyond words. Oh, the wonder of it all!

Worship is otherworldly. It isn’t logical. It’s kinda weird. Worship connects us with an ancient world and a future hope, collapsing time and connecting our stories with Jesus followers long ago and those yet to come. Sometimes hope feels fragile, clouded by our unanswerable questions and reactive plans. And sometimes hope shines like a dazzling Jesus. We pause our day-to-day lives to gather, to sing, pray, and eat together in faith and doubt, fear and hope, suffering and love, while we’re transformed by Jesus, the wonder of it all…