Tag Archives: Kathryn Schifferdecker

Sermons

Running on Empty* [OR Water, Wine, and Weddings, with a Dash of Mary Oliver]

*Yes, invoking Jackson Browne here. Lyrics align with the sermon but I found it tricky to tie them in. Video is at end of sermon in case you’d like a listen.

**sermon art: Marriage at Cana, Jyoti Art Ashram, India

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on January 20, 2019

[sermon begins after two Bible readings]

Song of Solomon 8:6-7 Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; for love is strong as death, passion fierce as the grave. Its flashes are flashes of fire, a raging flame. 7 Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. If one offered for love all the wealth of one’s house, it would be utterly scorned.

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

[sermon begins]

I love this wedding at Cana story.  I love that Jesus is at a wedding with family and friends.  I love that his mother is there.  I love that he listens to his mother (of course).  I love that the servants knew where the wine came from when the steward over them didn’t.  And, I love that the jars were for purification rituals and that, at first, they stood AS empty as the wine jars drained by the now drunk wedding guests.  Mary noticed that the wine gave out. It wasn’t so much that the guests needed more wine – they likely didn’t given the now empty wine jars and the steward’s comments to the bridegroom in verse 10.  The bigger problem was that the honor of the host was at stake.  The emptiness of the drained wine jars was shameful for the wedding host, the bridegroom.  A bridegroom running on empty and full of shame. Shame often happens when we’re running on empty – rushing in to fill our emptiness whatever the cause.

Mary flags the shame threat to Jesus.  She says to him, “They have no wine.”  He shrugs her off with the line about his “hour not yet come.”  Unfazed, Mary says to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.” From her comment, the miracle unfolds.  The steward is surprised that the good wine is served last and the party continues.  Jesus at the wedding of Cana, speaking of his hour and turning the water into wine, foreshadows the events of his death on a cross.  He is present at the wine crisis and he is present at the cross.  He is present at the wedding celebration and he is present at the resurrection.  Emptiness and abundance intertwine through Jesus’ life story epitomized in the wedding at Cana.

Weddings are wonderful.  Earnest vows of love and fidelity.  Ceremonies surrounding the couple with the support of friends and family.  Decorations blooming in floral splendor coordinating with gowns and suits.  Menus taste-tested months in advance.  Cakes frosted into works of art.  And, to my mind, there’s nothing like dancing at a wedding.  My siblings and I adore our cousins’ weddings for so many reasons but one big reason is the dancing.  Pastors are privy to the months before the wedding during the premarital counseling we get to do with couples as they prepare for marriage beyond the wedding day.  We get to hear about wedding details, what they mean and who they’re meaningful for.  We also get a snapshot of what a couple thinks make them work well together.  One of the goals that I have for premarital counseling is for couples to be thinking about the possibility that the day may come when they need help over a hurdle that is bigger than both of their expertise combined.  I was laughing with a younger friend at the gym who was celebrating her first wedding anniversary and joking about being an expert on marriage – to which I paused and said, well, you ARE an expert at your first year of marriage.

Along that line of being the expert, we may get to a year in our marriage when our level of expertise is not up to the challenge confronting us and we may need some help over the hurdle of feeling empty and ashamed. Help can be found talking to pastors or counselors you know, or counselors your friends have used and trust. What do you have to lose when so much feels lost already?  At the very least, there can be healing in the process no matter the outcome. This is true for individuals too, by the way. The wedding at Cana is as good a reminder as any to ask for help if you need it; to ask for help from someone who has some experience coaching couples through an empty spot in marriage that can fill itself with shame.  While that’s more than poetic sentiment, poetry can work its way into the mix.

Poetry like that found in our reading from the Bible’s Song of Solomon can sometimes add to those feelings of emptiness.  The Song of Solomon’s poetry celebrates a bride and bridegroom with the enthusiasm and romance of newlyweds.  Very little of it ends up printed in worship bulletins because the ancient, sensual metaphors must have been determined to be too much for listeners.  The wildly popular tattoo and jewelry engraving, “I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine,” is from the sixth chapter of Song of Solomon. Biblical commentaries interpret the book in various ways – from the bride is Israel and the bridegroom is God to the bride is the church and the bridegroom is Jesus to the bride is a bride and the bridegroom is a bridegroom.[1]

When the Bible offers us poetry whether in the Song of Solomon or another book, there’s an opportunity to see the world with fresh eyes through an ancient lens, not our own.  Mary Oliver, American poet, and Pulitzer Prize winner, died this week.  Her poetry generally helps us to see the world with fresh eyes through a contemporary lens, not our own. She had a special gift of celebrating life’s ordinary moments. Her poem “When Death Comes” specifically invokes the bride and bridegroom imagery.  She writes:

“When it’s over, I want to say: all my life

I was a bride married to amazement.

I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.”[2]

Mary Oliver and the Song of Solomon similarly invoke the wonder and joy of newlyweds. Jesus’ sign of turning water into wine transformed the looming shame of the newlywed bridegroom into the wonder and joy of abundance at a wedding.

Notice who benefits from Jesus’ transformation of emptiness to abundance, though. It’s the bridegroom but it’s not ONLY the bridegroom.  There’s a bride there somewhere. There are Jesus’ friends and likely other friends and family of the newlyweds. There’s the steward who was probably supposed to keep tabs on things like the wine supply.  There are servants who were fully in the know.  Jesus’ sign of turning water into wine during the wedding at Cana touched the people there in different ways.  ALL this and still his “hour [had] not yet come.”  In the Gospel of John, Jesus’ “hour” refers to the time that he will hang on a cross.[3]  The tasty wedding wine relates to the sour wine given to quench Jesus’ thirst on the cross.[4]  Jesus’ mother is called “the mother of Jesus” in the Gospel of John and shows up in the gospel only twice – once at the wedding at Cana and then again at the cross.[5]  From his first sign of turning water into wine, the cross where Jesus’ life will be emptied is already in play.  Curiously, though, Jesus is at a party…maybe even dancing.  (At least I like to think he was dancing.)

Turning water into wine and other things happening at the wedding at Cana point us to the cross but it also points us THROUGH the cross.  The emptiness that can so easily fill with shame is taken to and through the cross by Jesus, transforming us into new life.  Like the people at the wedding at Cana, the abundance of new life looks different for each of us.  For some of us, new life seems miraculously immediate, gushing to overflowing; for others of us, we need to ask for help and take one next right step after another as new life fills our empty places one drop at a time.  One thing is true, regardless.  Jesus’ meets us in our most empty places. It’s part of what the cross means.  It is from that place of emptiness that shame loses ground, hope is born, and life is restored.  Hallelujah and thanks be to God.

 

_____________________________________________________________

[1] Kathryn M. Schifferdecker, Assoc. Prof. of Old Testament. Commentary on Song of Solomon 2:10-13, 8:6-7 for August 2015. https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2511

[2] Mary Oliver. When Death Comes.  Library of Congress (© 1992 by Mary Oliver, from New & Selected Poems: Vol 1. Beacon Press, Boston).  https://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/102.html

[3] John 16:32

[4] John 19:28-29

[5] John 19:25-27

___________________________________________________________

Song after the sermon:

Jesus, Come! For We Invite You (ELW Hymn #312)

1 Jesus, come! for we invite you,
guest and master, friend and Lord;
now, as once at Cana’s wedding,
speak and let us hear your word:
lead us through our need or doubting,
hope be born and joy restored.

2 Jesus, come! transform our pleasures,
guide us into paths unknown;
bring your gifts, command your servants,
let us trust in you alone:
though your hand may work in secret,
all shall see what you have done.

3 Jesus, come! in new creation,
heav’n brought near by pow’r divine;
give your unexpected glory,
changing water into wine:
rouse the faith of your disciples —
come, our first and greatest Sign!

4 Jesus, come! surprise our dullness,
make us willing to receive
more than we can yet imagine,
all the best you have to give:
let us find your hidden riches,
taste your love, believe, and live!

____________________________________________________________

 

 

 

Sermons

Genesis 1:1-5 and Mark 1:4-11 – God All Up In Our Voids

Genesis 1:1-5 and Mark 1:4-11 – God All Up In Our Voids

Caitlin Trussell on January 11, 2015 with Augustana Lutheran Church, Denver, CO

[sermon begins after these two Bible readings]

Genesis 1:1-5  In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, 2 the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters.
3 Then God said, “Let there be light”; and there was light. 4 And God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness. 5 God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.

Mark 1:4-11  John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. 5 And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. 6 Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. 7 He proclaimed, “The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. 8 I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”
9 In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. 10 And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. 11 And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

 

[sermon begins]

There are wild, unimaginable things happening in this Genesis creation story.  Formlessness and void of the earth.  Imagine that for a moment – formless…void…utter darkness.  Nothing to distinguish one part from another.  Nothing through which to capture any imagining of its future.  A wind in the form of breath, as the Spirit of God blows over the mystery and threat of the deep.  Sound in seismic proportions.  No quiet or tame God picking up a bit of clay and pottering away.  From our human-sized perspective, this is massive.  This is earth and heavens – loud, windy and wild.  This story doesn’t allow us to cozy up into a calm, domesticated God.   This is the sheer power of God beyond our imagining, beyond our understanding.

The God of creation is not to be tamed.  And yet, for many of us, our first inclination is to tone God down.  As if we can make God easier on the heart and mind if we craft just the right language about God.  Or at the very least we can distract ourselves from the problem of the power of God if we spend our time arguing about the accuracy of the story.

Several years ago, when my daughter Taryn was in preschool, I had only been back in church as an adult for a few years.  Taryn’s preschool was attached to our church and some of the school’s parents seemed to know that I was involved in the church too.  It was common to have conversations with other parents during the dropping off and picking up times.  One day after dropping Taryn off, I was sneaking a peek into the classroom to watch her.  One of the dads hung back too.  A few minutes went by and he sidled over to chat.  He confirmed that I went to the church and then, without any preamble or build-up, he asked, “If God is all about love then why do some people say they fear God?”  I fumbled and stumbled around the idea of God’s power for a minute or two but clearly was not passing muster on any kind of answer that settled this man’s mind.  And there’s the problem, right there, when it comes to God’s awesome, creating power, there is nothing that settles our mind.  No matter how many days or millennia you think it took, the creative force of it is mind-blowing – and it blows our soft and squishy imaginings right out the window with it.

Here’s the thing.  When we’re tempted to talk about God as exclusively merciful and loving and forgiving, we forget the fearsome breath of God that moves over a formless, dark void; the Spirit of God that moves over what Jurgen Moltmann calls “creation-in-the-beginning.”[1]  When we soften or negate the power of God in any way, we don’t have to ask the question, “What would happen if God does this again?”

So let’s hang onto the fearsome power of God and ask that question.  “What would happen if God uses that kind of power again?” Oh…wait…God does do it again.  Anyone hear that part of the baptism of Jesus where the heavens are torn open?  The Spirit of God that moves over formless, dark voids, is the same Spirit who tears apart the heavens and descends, untamable, into the wild, over a river, onto a person, and names him “Beloved.”[2]  This baptism of Jesus is a revelation of the redemption to come and the unmitigated power infusing that redemption.

Moltmann talks about the “creation-in-the-beginning” being in continuity with the redemption of all things.  In the whole Bible, “the words used for the divine act of creating are also used for God’s liberating and redeeming acts (e.g. Isaiah 43:19); redemption is the final new creation of all things…”[3]

Oh, how we long for the redemption of all things – all our formless, dark voids in need of the fearsome breath of God.  Voids in which we struggle and wonder about.  Voids in which we lose ourselves, not knowing which way to turn or to take the next right step.  Voids in which we lose the people we love or lose strangers in Paris who other people love.  Voids in which freedom suffers under political tyranny or disintegrating terror.

Into these voids comes the Spirit of God.  The same Spirit of God who breathes light into the darkness.[4]  Light into the darkness, now think about that one.  God spoke these words, “Let there be light” as God’s breath rushed over the mystery and threat of the deep.   What does creation of light sound like?  Is there a crack of thunder as light creates heat?  Is there a deep and resounding vibration that would quake us to the core and make us aware of every cell in our bodies?  What does even a single blaze of light through unfathomable darkness look like as it bounds through creation with power strong enough to sustain life through all the mornings and evenings of the millennia?

We know a lot about light, or at least the scientists do, but did you know that we still don’t know what it is?  Einstein spent a lot of his time researching the interplay between light and time, challenged the orthodoxy of the previous 100 years of physics and won a Nobel Prize.[5] Einstein did all this and yet we still really don’t know what it is.  We mimic it but we cannot create it. [6]  Light is more than a convenient nuance in our days.  Light is sustaining, life giving energy.  It shows us how limited we are as creatures that we still don’t understand it.

God’s breath, God’s Spirit, creates light and life out of formless, dark voids.  And God gives this same sustaining breath to you as you move through your days.  God’s power and imagination creates an earth out of no earth.  God’s power and imagination makes a way out of no way.

This same, fearsome God breathes that power into redemption for you.  This same, fearsome God breathes that power into love for you.  The magnitude of God’s power is not simply a show of sound and light to wow us all and leave us shaking in shoes.  The magnitude of God’s power is the same sheer power of God that breathes grace, forgiveness and love into you.  And your God-infused life and breath bear witness to God, as the power of God’s Spirit moves through Christ in you for the sake of the world.  There is hope in the power of God’s redemption.  What might be possible if we go out and live it?


[1] Jurgen Moltmann, The Spirit of Life: A Universal Affirmation, (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992), 9.

[2] Karoline Lewis, Commentary on Mark 1:4-11 for WorkingPreacher.org https://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=3459

[3] Moltmann, 9.

[4] Kathryn Shifferdecker, Commentary on Genesis 1:1-5 for WorkingPreacher.org https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2328

[5] Richard Harris.  “Albert Einstein’s Year of Miracles: Light Theory” for NPR on March 17, 2005.  http://www.npr.org/2005/03/17/4538324/albert-einsteins-year-of-miracles-light-theory

[6] Troy Wanek, Renewable Energy Faculty, Red Rocks Community College, personal conversation, November 8, 2010.