Tag Archives: Life

Mortality – Is Any BODY There? Yes! John 12:1-8

 

**sermon art: Unction of Christ by Maria Stankova

Pastor Kent Mueller along with Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on April 6, 2025

Kent Mueller talks about his wife Elizabeth’s life and death five years ago. He asked me to preach it with him as someone who was present for both.

You may watch the sermon preached here at minute 30:27:

Sunday Service – 04/06/2025 – Augustana Lutheran Church Denver

[sermon begins after Bible reading]

John 12:1-8  Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. 2 There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. 3 Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. 4 But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, 5 “Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?” 6 (He said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it.) 7 Jesus said, “Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. 8 You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”

[sermon begins]

PASTOR KENT: 

In our Church Year we have one particular day set aside for honesty about mortality. And you might be thinking: “Why Good Friday of course, when Jesus died on the cross.” No. It’s Ash Wednesday. It is the day that we speak the truth of our frailty. Our vulnerability. Our mortality.  

Ashes are what is left when the life itself is gone. And on Ash Wednesday we smear an ashen cross on our forehead, making visible the cross that was anointed with oil at baptism—when the waters of baptism wash over us and we are named as a child of God. Ash Wednesday is our ritual of honesty, symbolizing that beginning and endings, that life and death. Are entwined together. 

PASTOR CAITLIN: 

I had been in contact with an Augustana family through the years as the mother’s health issues mounted. Her heart failure was more and more serious, such that she was approved for a heart transplant. It was August 26, 2019, when they got the call late at night that the gift of a heart was now available. There is no hiding from mortality when getting such a phone call. 

The heart transplant took place the next day, and it was a resounding success, with healing and recovery on the way. They had hope again! It was a miracle brought about through astonishing medical technology… but made possible only by the death of another. There are no words for such gratitude. 

PASTOR KENT: 

Endings and beginnings. Death and Life. Together. 

But as a people, a culture, we aren’t very comfortable with mortality. You would think that we’d be better at it, as people of faith. But American culture prizes youth, and health, and productivity. And we have medicalized mortality. The point of our medical institutions is to keep someone alive. Aging and death are seen as failures rather than natural transitions, making it difficult to openly discuss or accept mortality. And then when death comes, we are unprepared, anxious, even afraid.  

Contrast this with the death of Jesus, when he was taken down from the cross by Joseph of Arimathea. And Nicodemus brought a mixture of myrrh and aloes for preparing the body. Since Jesus had died shortly before the Sabbath, they had to prepare his body hastily, and the women who followed Jesus planned to return after the Sabbath to finish anointing him properly. 

Today’s Gospel text from John, then, is a foreshadowing of Jesus’ body being prepared for burial. Mary anointing Jesus’ feet with costly perfume and wiping them with her hair is an act of devotion, a gesture of love, and—whether Mary fully understood it or not—a preparation for Jesus’ death and burial. 

PASTOR CAITLIN: 

For several months, the heart transplant recovery continued slowly and deliberately with a program of cardiac rehabilitation, designed to strengthen the heart and the body. But then, something wasn’t right. Recovery progress plateaued, followed by problems with memory and balance. Five months after the heart transplant, she was hospitalized to try and figure out what was happening.  Hope was slipping away, and the pastors and parish nurse took turns to go to the hospital, to visit, to pray.  To be an embodied presence of the prayers lifted by the Augustana community. 

PASTOR KENT: 

Beginnings and endings. Life and death. Together. 

Mary’s anointing in today’s scripture echoes an ancient, sacred practice—preparing the body for burial. In the Jewish tradition, the body was washed, perfumed, and wrapped in linen before being laid to rest.  Anointing was an act of reverence, a final blessing, a way to prepare the body for its return to the earth and its journey with God. Most other faith practices include such rituals—Islamic families wash their dead, Jewish burial societies purify, Hindus use sacred oils and water. 

These practices allow for a tangible, intimate, embodied confrontation with death, offering healing. Love.  Closure. By turning away from such rituals in our time, we have lost the profound and sacred act of caring for loved ones, and the communal embrace of shared grief—a farewell where hands and hearts meet in healing. 

PASTOR CAITLIN: 

After several weeks in the hospital, she was transported to Denver Hospice. A family member asked that I be prepared to come there after the time of death to lead prayers and a ritual of washing and anointing. I gathered together a bag of items to be ready at a moment’s notice day or night: A bowl for warm water, a few cloths and towels for ritual washing, oil for anointing, some candles. And we waited for death to come. 

PASTOR KENT: 

Endings and beginnings. Death and Life. Together. 

I asked Pastor Caitilin to tell this story, as I knew I wouldn’t be able to tell it myself. Because her story is my story. 

For five years now, I’ve wondered if there might be a time, when I could share this story, which now concludes with a Rite for Preparing the Body for Burial. I would not have known to consider this ritual, had my brother not told me about it.  He’s a pastor in Chicago, and he knew of this liturgy, which is not found within our official Lutheran worship books. (What does that say about our comfort with mortality and death?) 

I’m sharing this story today because it’s not the American way of death.  So that you might become familiar with these words and actions–– rituals––that honor the mortal body that we are in life and in death. And that proclaim that God’s love is eternal, beyond our beginning and endings, in life and in death.

PASTOR CAITLIN: 

Kent called me midafternoon on March 11, 2020. Elizabeth had died.  I was here in the office and made my way the short distance to Denver Hospice over on the Lowry campus. In Elizabeth’s room, we filled the bowl with water, opened the oil, and lit the candles. We began with a prayer of preparation… 

  • We come to this moment in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. We come surrounded by the saints who have done this work before us.
  • When Jesus was preparing for his own death, he knelt down and washed the feet of his disciples and then taught them to wash one another.
  • And on the way to Jerusalem, Mary the sister of Martha anointed Jesus with costly perfume.
  • Prepare us, cleansing spirit. 

Then, as they played music, they ritually washed and anointed Elizabeth’s body as named in these holy blessings: 

  • Over her eyes: All that Elizabeth’s eyes have seen in this life, O God, we commend to you.
  • Over her ears: All that Elizabeth’s ears have heard in this life, O God, we commend to you.
  • Over her mouth: All that Elizabeth’s tongue has tasted and all the words that her mouth has spoken in this life, O God, we commend to you.
  • Over her hands: All the work that Elizabeth’s hands have done in this life, O God, we commend to you. 
  • Over her feet: All the journeys of Elizabeth’s pilgrimage on this earth, O God, we commend to you.
  • Over her forehead: This life, baptized into Christ’s death and resurrection, O God, we commend to you. You belong to Christ, in whom you have been baptized.  Amen 

Hymn during the anointing:

There Is a Longing

Hymn after the sermon:

Holy Woman, Graceful Giver ACS 1002

______________________________________________________________

Sources and resources 

  • Rites for Preparing the Body for Burial by Pastor Rebekkah Lohrmann 
  • https://sylviaschroeder.com/why-did-mary-anoint jesus-for-his-burial-before-he-died/ 
  • h”ps://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised common-lec8onary/fifth-sunday-in-lent-3/commentary on-john-121-8-2 
  • h”p://words.dancingwiththeword.com/2016/03/the annoin8ng.html 
  • Any Body There? by Craig Mueller

 

What’s Ash Got to Do with It?! [OR Is Any Body There? Yes!]

photo credit: thetablet.org/filipinos-can-get-ashes-on-foreheads-for-first-time-in-two-years/

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on March 5, 2025

[sermon begins right away – the Bible readings are at the end of the sermon]

Two years ago, I first felt the lump in my abdomen that began a six-month journey through chemo to complete remission – a complete remission that persists today. Those days two years ago included an Ash Wednesday appointment between the noon and 7 p.m. worship services at which my nurse practitioner confirmed that there was a lump in my abdomen and that it needed further investigation by CT scan. Days when the word lymphoma and its widespread presence in my body became known. Days before we knew that the biopsy identified the lymphoma as low grade and considered treatable with a good probability of full remission. During those days that had more questions than answers, there were other things that became crystal clear. While I wanted very much to live and share life with my family, friends, and congregation, I was not afraid to die. The dying part stinks but I figure God’s got whatever comes next well in hand. Loving life and not being afraid to die filled the days of not knowing how long I had to live with a deep wonder of life’s precious mystery. How is it that we exist at all?!! How on God’s green earth is even breath possible in a universe in which we still haven’t found anything remotely like the diversity of creatures and ecosystems we are part of here?!!

We learn a lot about life when we face death. We often learn a lot about a thing by what we think of as its opposite. Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians hones in on opposites in the verses we heard today – imposters yet true, unknown yet well known, dying yet alive, sorrowful yet always rejoicing, having nothing yet possessing everything…[1] Paul gives us opposites and offers us an example of what living looks like through the lens of the gospel. It’s as if he’s laying down a bit of challenge to people who think they have this Christian living thing down but are doing a poor job of it.  His alternative is a set of opposites that leaves us scratching our heads but smacks of honest truth.  A perfect message for us as we begin Lent.  Because Lent never moves us to easy answers. Lent deepens us into reflection.  Reflection about ourselves with relentless honesty that reveals the motivations and actions of our daily living.[2]

It’s these very motivations and actions that are called into question by the Gospel of Matthew reading. If we think Jesus’ challenge to keep piety secret validates our natural tendency to be quiet Christians then we may be missing something. Jesus warned his disciples about pious prancing emptied of all concern for the neighbor. His teaching is part of the Sermon on the Mount that pushes his listeners out of their comfort zones and into the work of Christian love for neighbor.[3] Jesus often singled out the publicly righteous. The publicly righteous used their piety to judge everyone else’s worthiness. In light of Jesus’ challenge, how are we to understand the cross of ash marked on our foreheads? It’s a valid question. It can help to answer it by working backwards from the cross of Good Friday echoing through the cross of ash.

First, the cross means that God is not in the sin accounting business. The cross reveals the inevitable conclusion of our own attempts to be like God, to create God in our image. Jesus lived his life constantly expanding the circle that people use to limit who’s in and who’s out. He ate meals with unlovable people, he had public conversations with women no one spoke to, he had secret conversations with religious leaders who opposed him by day, the list of his ever-expanding circle of grace 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. Grace and unconditional love are just that powerful. Even when one of Jesus’ friends tried to fight off the guards arresting him, Jesus told him to put the sword away. Jesus raised his hand in healing at the time of his arrest, not violence, and opened his arms on the cross to all people.

The cross of ashes on our foreheads are placed with the words, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” The truth of these words in the shape of an ash cross means that the love of Jesus for us transcends even the worst of our human failings. God’s suffering makes love possible through difficult times and in the midst of suffering. Please hear that God does not inflict our suffering, but God’s love can still be revealed through it. God’s promises may be revealed when we suffer but so is our call as conduits of blessing when we encounter suffering around us.[4] Ash Wednesday answers the question, “Is any BODY there?” with a resounding, “Yes!” We are not alone. God is with us AND connects us with each other. We’ll be reflecting on that theme—Is any Body there? Yes!—over the next five Sundays in Lent. A needed reminder in the digital AI age that we are not alone and that our bodies are important.[5]

I swear there are times I can hear the grit of ash when it’s drawn on skin one way and then the other, priming us to begin at our end, priming us to live fully knowing that it is God who promises to hold us through death. So the ash we end up wearing on our foreheads is pure promise.

It’s a promise of grace because we are just not that powerful. I did everything I could to survive the lymphoma AND the chemo that gave me life even as it made me hairless, tired, and immunosuppressed. Even as I wept and melted down and got back up again to do more until the next meltdown. As a nurse who infused chemo into children over many years, it was suddenly my turn as the effects got up close and personal. Nothing is guaranteed through a diagnosis and treatment but I knew I wanted to try. And I knew that Love was with me whether I tried or not and whether I lived or died.

Acknowledging the Love also acknowledges that our piety will never fully reflect our mixed motivations and inconsistent actions. We can’t love our neighbor or ourselves enough under our own steam. God’s love working in us and through us makes loving our neighbors and ourselves possible because it’s God who loved us first. The movement of love is from God to us. That’s what we wear on our foreheads in the form of ash.

Ultimately, Ash Wednesday isn’t about our efforts or repentance. It’s about God’s love for us despite our fragility and flaws that make God feel so far away. It’s about God who comes to us. Entering our humanity. Embodied in Jesus. God’s love is first and foremost about loving us no matter who we are or what we do. The good news is that there is nothing we can do or not do to make God love us any more or any less. Christians call such an unconditional love, grace. Ash Wednesday invites us into the wonder of life by being honest about our death—someday we will die but on all the other days we will not. As we live, the 40 days of Lent invite us to reflect and pray about the life we lead today.

For now, today, we begin at the end with the cross on our foreheads reminding us that we are fragile creatures who experience the freedom of living through the reality of our last day. Because, in the end, we are reminded once more that our purpose in Jesus is first to be loved by the God who is, who was, and who is to come. Loved unconditionally. Loved so much that we are free to wonder about our motivations and our actions without worrying about the love freely given to us. Loved so much that hearts are transformed by the grace of unconditional love. Loved so much that the eternal God loves us through death for God’s forever. Reminded that we are loved and to love. When someone asks you what’s ash got to do with it, tell them that essential thing that means everything – that it reminds you first you are loved by God and that this promise includes everyone. All bodies. No exceptions. This is good news indeed. Amen.

______________________________________________________________

[1] 2 Corinthians 6:9-10

[2] Frank L. Crouch, Dean and Vice President, Moravian Theological Seminary. Commentary on 2 Corinthians 5:20b-6:10 for Ash Wednesday on March 6, 2019.  Working Preacher, Luther Seminary. https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3983

[3] Matthew 5, 6, 7 [full chapters]

[4] Matt Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Discussion on Sermon Brainwave podcast for November 5, 2023.

[5] Criag Mueller. Any Body There?: Worship and Being Human in a Digital Age (Wipf & Stock Publishers, 2017).

_______________________________________________________________

Ash Wednesday readings:

Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21, 2 [Jesus said to the disciples:] 1 “Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven.
2 “So whenever you give alms, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, so that they may be praised by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. 3 But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, 4 so that your alms may be done in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.
5 “And whenever you pray, do not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that they may be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. 6 But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.
16 “And whenever you fast, do not look dismal, like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces so as to show others that they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. 17 But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, 18 so that your fasting may be seen not by others but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.
19 “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal; 20 but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consumes and where thieves do not break in and steal. 21 For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

Corinthians 5:20b-6:10 We entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. 21 For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.
6:1 As we work together with him, we urge you also not to accept the grace of God in vain. 2 For he says,
“At an acceptable time I have listened to you,
and on a day of salvation I have helped you.”
See, now is the acceptable time; see, now is the day of salvation! 3 We are putting no obstacle in anyone’s way, so that no fault may be found with our ministry, 4 but as servants of God we have commended ourselves in every way: through great endurance, in afflictions, hardships, calamities, 5 beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger; 6 by purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, holiness of spirit, genuine love, 7 truthful speech, and the power of God; with the weapons of righteousness for the right hand and for the left; 8 in honor and dishonor, in ill repute and good repute. We are treated as impostors, and yet are true; 9 as unknown, and yet are well known; as dying, and see—we are alive; as punished, and yet not killed; 10 as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything.

Courage, Good People – Fear Gets Us Nowhere [Matthew 25:14-30 and Zephaniah 1:7, 12-18

 

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on November 19, 2023

[sermon begins after one Bible reading – see end of sermon for the Zephaniah reading]

Matthew 25:15-30 [Jesus said to the disciples:] 14“For it is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his slaves and entrusted his property to them; 15to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away. 16The one who had received the five talents went off at once and traded with them, and made five more talents. 17In the same way, the one who had the two talents made two more talents. 18But the one who had received the one talent went off and dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money. 19After a long time the master of those slaves came and settled accounts with them. 20Then the one who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five more talents, saying, ‘Master, you handed over to me five talents; see, I have made five more talents.’ 21His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’ 22And the one with the two talents also came forward, saying, ‘Master, you handed over to me two talents; see, I have made two more talents.’ 23His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’ 24Then the one who had received the one talent also came forward, saying, ‘Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; 25so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.’ 26But his master replied, ‘You wicked and lazy slave! You knew, did you, that I reap where I did not sow, and gather where I did not scatter? 27Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and on my return I would have received what was my own with interest. 28So take the talent from him, and give it to the one with the ten talents. 29For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. 30As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ ”

[sermon begins]

As gospel writers go, Matthew weaves subtlety with shock value which can make it hard to see his point. Matthew begins his gospel with a mind-numbing list of names that add up to fourteen generations of Jesus’ ancestors.[1] No angels, shepherds, or manger in his story, that’s for sure. Yet, if your attention drifts away from the names even for a moment, you’d miss major plot twists, including a woman who wasn’t born Jewish and a woman who was a prostitute. Our 21st century minds aren’t shocked but our 1st century friends may have been. In our Matthew reading today, the opposite happened. Our ancient friends may have been lulled into complacency by the trope of a powerful person trusting their underlings as a test of character.[2] These stories were common in the first century as regular people had a chance to shine. Jesus subtly wove this well-known trope with the shock value of an enormous amount of money, a talent was 15 years of wages, and the fearful slave who buried his talent, having nothing to show the master when he came back from his journey, and was thrown into the outer darkness. The man who went on a journey was excessive in money and trust.

What is a Jesus follower to make of his last few teachings in Matthew’s gospel? Each parable tops the last. Next Sunday, they’ll crescendo in intensity. Jesus was wound up tighter than a ranting Bronco fan. Although let’s give Jesus the benefit of the doubt, shall we? These intense parables continue to escalate because time was running out. He was about to be arrested. I wonder how desperate Jesus was for his disciples to understand his urgency. Things were about to get as real as they were horrific. Still, Jesus’ teaching was first about how generous the man was, how much he wanted to share with his slaves, and how much he trusted them to carry on his work in his absence. The man’s excessive expectation inspired the first two slaves into action and froze the last one in fear. Remember the limits of parable. These parabolic stories only take us so far in teasing apart God’s action in Jesus and in the world. It’s highly likely that Jesus’ parable of the talents is meant more to inspire us than to make us afraid. Fear is not freedom and is not consistent with Jesus’ message in Matthew in which he says many times, “Do not be afraid.” Fear doesn’t get anyone anywhere especially in the kingdom of God that Jesus said is about mercy.

Two weeks ago, we heard Jesus’ teaching on the nine Beatitudes.[3] He began each Beatitude with “Blessed are…” and he shocked his listeners by listing experiences that don’t seem at all blessed and connecting them with mercy, comfort, and the kingdom of heaven. (This is another example of the subtlety and shock value of Matthew’s gospel.) Today’s parable invites action by the journeying man’s abundance not anger. In the verses after our parable today, the ones for next Sunday, Jesus doubles down on God’s mission of mercy. And God’s mercy doesn’t have time for fear. Fear gets us nowhere.

Last Thursday, I was part of a Multi Faith Leadership Forum conversation with about 20 other faith leaders. Jews, Muslims, Christians, and more, spoke carefully and honestly about our own emotions and thoughts about October 7 and the Hamas attack that victimized innocent Israeli men, women and children – mostly Jews but also people from other places – and about the Israeli military response that victimizes innocent Palestinian men, women, and children. Words are failing them. Our collective words are failing them and have been failing them. So much so that violence is increasing in our own country and in our own city against Jews, Muslims, and Arabs. While many are demonstrating and while many others are protesting, words continue to fail.

I myself love words and I struggle to find the right ones as adults and children and families continue to fall and to be afraid. I have Jewish family and friends. I have Palestinian friends and colleagues. I am no fan of the current Israeli government. I am no fan of Hamas. Sides are being taken and demanded. But still, there are Israeli and Palestinian families of the fallen who are searching for a way beyond sides. There are other Palestinian-Israeli groups looking for a way beyond sides. There are multi faith leaders who are searching for a way beyond sides. And in today’s reading, I hear Jesus tell a story, a parable, about a man whose generosity inspires some and whose trust terrifies others. One interpretation of this parable is that Jesus’ mission of mercy is meant to expand, not to be buried in the ground.

It’s in that spirit that Augustana is hosting a service for the multi faith community. As words fail, we are invited to create a sacred space with our shared humanity across religious and political differences. This service was generated by conversations with faith leaders and lay people – Jews, Muslims, and Christians – who are in pain, grieving, and unable to see a way forward from war to peace, from death to life, from despair to hope. Their feedback supported the attempt of such a service, recognizing that any effort to hold space for everyone’s grief and humanity will be insufficient for some. Invitations to this service are between faith leaders and their communities. No publicity. No livestream. Only people and presence. You’re invited. As words fail us, we’ll gather in the silence of our shared presence and in the presence of God. This building, the quiet, the music, and the candles are merely a container for the heartbroken and for the determined to hold space for our shared humanity made in the image of God.

Last Sunday, Pastor Gail mentioned compassion fatigue. Compassion fatigue is real. Our fragile bodies aren’t built to feel the feels about everything that’s happening in the world all at the same time. That’s a fast track to despair. Neither are we to be complacent in the suffering, to shrug off another human’s pain, to hide from suffering or to bury our heads in the ground as if it doesn’t exist. The reading from the prophet Zephaniah is the only reading we ever get from this prophet’s small book in the minor prophets of the Old Testament. There’s a great line about God’s frustration with God’s people in which the Prophet Zephaniah accuses the people who “rest complacently on their dregs.” Jesus’ way of mercy resists complacency and self-righteousness.

Jesus asks his followers to risk within and beyond the Christian freedom and abundance we’ve been given as his body in the world for the sake of the world. May God give us light to see the way, courage to take a risk, and trust in the love that transforms death into life. Thanks be to God. And amen.

_________________________________________________

[1] Matthew 1:1-15

[2] Matt Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Commentary on the Bible readings for November 19, 2023. Sermon Brainwave Podcast. workingpreacher.org/podcasts/932-25th-sunday-after-pentecost-ord-33a-nov-19-2023

[3] Matthew 5:1-12

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Zephaniah 1:7, 12-18

7Be silent before the Lord God!
For the day of the Lord is at hand;
the Lord has prepared a sacrifice,
he has consecrated his guests.

12At that time I will search Jerusalem with lamps,
and I will punish the people
who rest complacently on their dregs,
those who say in their hearts,
“The Lord will not do good,
nor will he do harm.”
13Their wealth shall be plundered,
and their houses laid waste.
Though they build houses,
they shall not inhabit them;
though they plant vineyards,
they shall not drink wine from them.

14The great day of the Lord is near,
near and hastening fast;
the sound of the day of the Lord is bitter,
the warrior cries aloud there.
15That day will be a day of wrath,
a day of distress and anguish,
a day of ruin and devastation,
a day of darkness and gloom,
a day of clouds and thick darkness,
16a day of trumpet blast and battle cry
against the fortified cities
and against the lofty battlements.

17I will bring such distress upon people
that they shall walk like the blind;
because they have sinned against the Lord,
their blood shall be poured out like dust,
and their flesh like dung.
18Neither their silver nor their gold
will be able to save them
on the day of the Lord’s wrath;
in the fire of his passion
the whole earth shall be consumed;
for a full, a terrible end
he will make of all the inhabitants of the earth.

Saints in Light [OR The Mystery of Connection Through Death] Matthew 5:1-12

sermon art: Communion of Saints by Elise Ritter

Pastor Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran church on November 5, 2023

[sermon begins after the Bible reading – the 1 John reading is at the end of the sermon]

This Bible reading is often called “The Beatitudes” for the “Blessed.” My sermon is written in beatitude form – beginning with the concerns of the world and shifting to words of comfort…

Matthew 5:1-12 When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. 2Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying:
3“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
4“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
5“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
6“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
7“Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.
8“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
9“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
10“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
11“Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. 12Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”

[sermon begins]

What does the world want? I mean the world that doesn’t include opportunists, oppressors, and oligarchs. I mean us, people – young, old, sick, healthy; all genders, religions, and colors. Regular people all around the world. What does the world want? Well, I haven’t interviewed the world, but I read a lot, listen to people a lot, and wonder about this question A LOT. People seem to want similar things – including enough love, food, shelter, income, community, peace, and health to lead meaningful lives. These near-universal wants hit home at last week’s concert here in our sanctuary. 100 voices combined in song to sing Tuvayun, the nine verses of the Beatitudes that we heard in the Matthew reading today that begin with “Blessed.” [1]  Tuvayun is Aramaic for “blessed,” a language that Jesus spoke.

There was this moment in Tuvayun entitled “I Hope” when each member of our Chancel Choir and the Colorado Chorale spoke their own words of hope, first one at a time and then all at the same time. It was cacophony of words piled on words, hope piled on hope. Hope so full and urgent that it rang through our ears to our hearts until mine broke into sobs. (I think Rob was worried about me for a minute.) Through the tears and heart broken open, I thought that these could be the voices of just about everyone in the world, hoping upon hope that we could get our collective act together so that everyone could simply live.

Jesus sums up reality’s clash with hope in the Beatitudes. Blessed are the depressed, the grieving, the merciful, the pure heart, the peacemakers, the persecuted, and the slandered. Folks who bear the burdens of despair, grief, persecution, justice, and pure hearts know the lament that comes with their heavy load. Jesus hears their cries and sees their suffering. His list of nine beatitudes is a precious gift as people’s pain is heard and seen. Jesus doesn’t stop there. He offers a word of hope.

Hope as blessings are revealed. There isn’t a lot of agreement about what “blessed” means in the Matthew reading. Because Jesus was Jewish and likely had some rabbinic training, I hang my hat with the rabbis on this one; that a blessing is something that already exists and occasionally we get a glimpse of the blessing that already exists. The rabbinic view is in opposition to our 21st century view that a blessing is like being tapped by a fairy wand and something good happens because of how deserving we are. The Jewish notion of “blessed” helps us see life in full, revealing not only God’s promises when we suffer but also our call as conduits of blessing when we encounter suffering around us.[2] God’s work. Our hands.

On All Saints Day, it’s important to note that the blessing is not the suffering itself. The church has done some damage over the years with this kind of thinking. Opportunists, oppressors, and oligarchs are the ones who don’t want what most of the world wants. They perpetuate injustice, suffering, and violence to disrupt and take advantage of the disruption to gain power and wealth over and against most of the people in the world. Let’s not confuse their corruption as something from God.

Let’s focus on the saints. In Lutheran Christianity, saints are regular people like you and me who are touched by the waters of baptism. We’re sainted by the power of the Holy Spirit and together we add up to the body of Christ. (Another weird bit of Christian math kind of like the Trinity.) Sometimes we do super special things and most of the time we don’t. Martin Luther called this being saint and sinner at the same time – simul iustus et peccator. I sometimes use this language when I welcome people at the beginnings of funerals or other events here. I’ll say something like, “Good morning, I’m Pastor Caitlin, and I welcome you on behalf of the sinner-saints of Augustana.” When I say this, I know that most people probably don’t know what it means but I like it because it’s true. Sinners the lot of us. And I want people to know that we know that, especially since some people have an experience of Christians as enamored with their own importance.

The other thing that’s said at funerals is a prayer of Commendation at the end of the funeral. There are different prayers of Commendation but the one that I say most goes like this…

Into your hands, O merciful Savior, we commend your servant, __________. Acknowledge, we humbly beseech you, a sheep of your own fold, a lamb of your own flock, a sinner of your own redeeming. Receive him into the arms of your mercy, into the blessed rest of everlasting peace, and into the glorious company of the saints in light. Amen.

We say this prayer as a request, asking God to receive the person who died. But it’s a request to which we’ve been given the answer in baptism. God’s answer to this request is, “Yes.” God enfolds us in the life of God here and now. And God enfolds us in the life of God when we die. We’re enfolded in the life of God and “into the glorious company of the saints in light.” Now I don’t know what that means exactly. None of us does on this side of death. But it’s that glorious company of the saints in light that captures the imagination – seeing again much grieved for loved ones and friends. I’ve said prayers of Commendation many, many times as I touch urns or caskets. It’s the line about joining the saints in light that fills my heart with hope.

Last week, I was able to join by zoom the funeral of a dear colleague and friend, Andrea Doeden. Her congregation is in Trinidad, Colorado. As I watched the communion line that lasted for three full hymns and part of a fourth, I was struck by the mundane act of communion – coming forward, hands outstretched, bread and wine offered and eaten – and the mystical union that we have with Jesus and each other when we commune. We’re connected across time with the many who have come before us who make up the glorious company of the saints in light. We’re connect across time with Jesus and the saints who will come after us. Then I watched Bishop Jim commend Andrea to “the mercy of God, our maker and redeemer.” He put his hand on her urn, her photo next to it surrounded by flowers, and he prayed the prayer. Even in my sadness, I felt it, the mystery of communion with the saints in light.

Death cannot unlove a life that is loved. In fact, nothing can unlove a life that is already loved because love is from God.[3] The full measure of God’s love is that God loves you into life and God’s loves you through your last breath. The people listed in the bulletin today, the people named because they took their last breath in the past year, the people we commune with when we take communion, God loved them into life and God loved them on the way out. As you live and breathe today, God loves you. As you live through your last breath, God loves you. You are enfolded in the life of God, created in God’s image, and beloved through God’s death in Jesus on the cross – a wounded and beautiful Savior. You are sainted by God’s activity, not your own. In the words of the First John reading:

“Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when [Christ] is revealed, we will be like him.”[4]

Alleluia! And Amen!

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1 John 3:1-3 See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are. The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. 2Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is. 3And all who have this hope in him purify themselves, just as he is pure.

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[1] The form of this sermon is written like a Beatitude, like Jesus’ “Blessed are…” statements in the gospel of Matthew reading. I begin with the cares and sufferings of the world and then proceed to the word of hope.

[2] Matt Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Discussion on Sermon Brainwave podcast for November 5, 2023.

[3] 1 John 4:7 “Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God.” NRSV.  A few verses later is 1 John 4:12 which is actually my favorite verse of all time. “No one has ever see God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and [God’s] love is made complete in us.” When I couldn’t pick up a Bible after many years out of the church, this was the verse that drew me back in.

[4] 1 John 3:2

Trouble-Hearted Ones on the Way in a Beloved World – John 14:1-14

**I was diagnosed with lowgrade follicular lymphoma at the beginning of March. You can read about my treatment and reflections here: CaringBridge – Caitlin Trussell

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on May 7, 2023

It’s been a minute since I’ve been in the pulpit. Quite a few minutes, actually, since Ash Wednesday. Hearing a good word from our preachers in the pews who are retired clergy including, by his own description, one “recycled Bishop,” has been personally comforting during this time of my treatment and the other kinds of pastoring that needs attention since Pastor Ann retired. Gratitude doesn’t begin to describe my feelings, but it will have to do for now. The preacher-of-the-week model will continue to engage our hearts and minds for a few yet but I’m so happy to be standing here today, in this way, at this time, with you.

Jesus said to his trouble-hearted disciples, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” A couple sentences later, he reassures them that they “know the way” because he is “the way.” They know him.  “The Way” is also code for what the earliest Christians used to call the church. The Gospel of John in its entirety helps us understand that Jesus as “the way” is not exclusive. We’re the ones that get that turned around with notions of in and out crowds. We forget that Jesus doesn’t belong to us. It’s the opposite. We belong to Jesus as does the world God so loves. The disciples are just as separated from God as the religious leaders that Jesus regularly challenges and so are we. In John’s Gospel we hear that Jesus was co-existent with God in the beginning and that Jesus is the light and life of all the people, of the entire world that God loves. Jesus slips on skin in solidarity with us to shine a light that cannot be overcome by any kind of darkness. The darkness did not, can not, never will, overcome it.

All that stuff that I just said is a 30,000 foot view of the Gospel of John. The high view is important because it holds us to an expansive interpretation of this reading. Our reading drops us into the meal and teaching that Jesus was sharing with his followers before he was killed on a cross. We often hear Jesus’ teaching about the many dwelling places in the Father’s house as a funeral reading. There are hymns and artwork aplenty that imagine this as a literal home. In John’s gospel, God is eternal. Abiding in the Father, in God, is abiding in the eternal one today, tomorrow, next week, and forever because that is who God is. God is the eternal one who is timeless – that’s a tricky concept for humans on a timeline.

Jesus said to his trouble-hearted followers, “Do not let your hearts be troubled…you know the way because I am the way and you know me.” His followers have seen him sit with strangers in the land who were ostracized, teach a religious leader – who opposed him by day – in the middle of the night, talk with a woman in the light of day who no one else would talk to. They experienced Jesus’ patient way in the middle of this reading today, coaching Thomas and Philip as they struggle to understand his teaching. The trouble-hearted followers will get into trouble by denying, betraying, and abandoning Jesus as he is executed for his ministry of radical inclusion, touching the untouchable and loving the unlovable. They will receive his radical love themselves after he is raised from the dead on the third day. They will know the way because they saw the way in Jesus – in his ministry, death, and resurrection.

Jesus said to his trouble-hearted followers, “Do not let your hearts be troubled…you know the way because I am the way and you know me.” You may have heard that we’re in a pastoral transition at Augustana. Senior Pastor Ann Hultquist retired in March. In the long, long, almost 150-year life of this congregation, a pastoral retirement is nothing new. But in each transition there’s a wide range of reactions. Some people are totally chill, others are anxious. Some people are grieving, others excited about the future. Some people are knee deep in transition details, others are not reading their weekly Epistles…you know who you are. 😉

Last week I had a chance to meet with our Bridge Pastor Gail Mundt who will join me in the pastoral ministry of the congregation. We got to know each other better. She was briefly at my family’s church which I was away at seminary in St. Paul. I brought her up to speed on Augustana’s last few of months – if that’s even possible. And we planned immediate logistics for her start with us on June 1st. Her expertise in congregational transitions and with congregations around the U.S. and abroad will be a gift that keeps on giving. It was good to pray with her and celebrate this new beginning even though Bridge Pastors by definition are temporary.

I also met with our Transition Consultant Pastor Dominic Palacious who will specifically lead the Transition Team in the work needed to be done before a pastoral call process may begin. He and I also planned a few logistics. He’ll join us on Sunday, May 21, for worship and in between services for Adult Forum. And he’ll be at our staff meeting this week and schedule 1:1 conversations with the staff. Having been through Augustana’s last search for a Senior Pastor, I’m curious to see how this new kind of transition process works for us.

Jesus said to his trouble-hearted followers, “Do not let your hearts be troubled…you know the way because I am the way and you know me.” In preparation for this sermon, I re-read several favorite papers and articles about the Gospel of John. One of them was my Christology paper from seminary. It’s not a favorite because I wrote it, although I do have a fondness for this one. It’s a favorite because my mother’s husband of almost 19 years, Larry, read it and wrote a bunch of comments in it – all capitalized in red in the body of the paper. He was a deeply faithful Christian and college professor and a good friend of mine. I can hear his voice in my head when I read his responses to my fledgling theological construction about what God is up to in Jesus. He had fatherly pride about my pastoring.

Larry died peacefully in memory care last week after a distressing struggle over the last few years. Larry’s questioning faith and curious mind meant that his confession about who Jesus was resisted easy answers or anything that smacked of certainty. He read more original works of early and current Christian thinkers than most of us combined. Larry’s immersion and prayer of the Psalms is an example for all of us. By the time he died, he could not rely on knowing Jesus in any coherent way. He could only rely on Jesus knowing him and bringing him to dwell in the eternal God who was already holding onto him throughout his life and in his declining health.

Jesus said to his trouble-hearted followers, “Do not let your hearts be troubled…you know the way because I am the way and you know me.” There’s much that mystifies us on our planet, in our communities, in our homes, and in our bodies. The mystery of suffering’s existence is unanswerable. Oh sure, we can hold people accountable for crimes against humanity and each other. We can hold ourselves accountable to the ways we hurt each other and ourselves. We can even say that the diseases in our bodies are similar to our behaviors that don’t always serve us or other people, our bodies behave in ways that don’t always serve us. And still, Jesus promises that we’re known by God no matter what is happening in our minds, bodies, and spirits.

Dear trouble-hearted ones, Jesus promises that our death dealing exclusive instincts are no match for the expansive love of God. This is an Easter promise that we can take with us on our way as Jesus’ way. Thanks be to God. And amen.

Generosity and Connection: The Antidote to Greed and Despair [OR The Parable of the Rich Fool] Luke 12:13-22, Ecclesiastes and Psalm 49

**sermon art: Generosity by Stig Lofnes (~1960 – present) oil on canvas

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on July 31, 2022

[sermon begins after two Bible readings; Psalm 49 is at the end of the sermon]

Luke 12:13-22 Someone in the crowd said to [Jesus,] “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.” 14But he said to him, “Friend, who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you?” 15And he said to them, “Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” 16Then he told them a parable: “The land of a rich man produced abundantly. 17And he thought to himself, ‘What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?’ 18Then he said, ‘I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. 19And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.’ 20But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’ 21So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God.”

Ecclesiastes 1:2, 12-14, 2:18-23

Vanity of vanities, says the Teacher,
vanity of vanities! All is vanity.

12I, the Teacher, when king over Israel in Jerusalem, 13applied my mind to seek and to search out by wisdom all that is done under heaven; it is an unhappy business that God has given to human beings to be busy with. 14I saw all the deeds that are done under the sun; and see, all is vanity and a chasing after wind.

2:18I hated all my toil in which I had toiled under the sun, seeing that I must leave it to those who come after me 19—and who knows whether they will be wise or foolish? Yet they will be master of all for which I toiled and used my wisdom under the sun. This also is vanity. 20So I turned and gave my heart up to despair concerning all the toil of my labors under the sun, 21because sometimes one who has toiled with wisdom and knowledge and skill must leave all to be enjoyed by another who did not toil for it. This also is vanity and a great evil. 22What do mortals get from all the toil and strain with which they toil under the sun? 23For all their days are full of pain, and their work is a vexation; even at night their minds do not rest. This also is vanity.

[sermon begins]

Last Sunday, Pastor Ann preached about the audacity of this congregation to live life on Jesus’ terms and not just on our own.[1] To live and pray and serve as Jesus did. To imagine what could be done with the empty land just down the hill from this sanctuary as part of our strategic planning. To vote as a congregation to partner with Habitat for Humanity Metro Denver to build affordable townhomes. Pastor Ann preached about that over four-year process and the persistence of the congregation that culminated in the rezoning vote at the next day’s Denver City Council meeting. I’m very excited to report that this past Monday, Denver City Council voted unanimously to rezone, 13-0.[2]

At the City Council meeting, Pastor Ann and Council President Michael Zumwalt testified on behalf of the rezoning alongside one of our neighbors representing the South Hilltop Neighborhood Association, alongside our partners from Habitat for Humanity Metro Denver. Councilwoman Amanda Sawyer adder her enthusiastic remarks about the congregation and the process it took to get here. There is A LOT of excitement in the City of Denver about this Affordable Housing! (My sermon copies include a link to check it out.) It’s unique to have the neighborhood association, the developer (Habitat), AND a faith community working together towards a shared goal of housing – so that, as Pastor Ann preached, “people we haven’t met yet will have a safe and decent place to call home.”

Homes come in all shapes and sizes. Multifamily homes like apartments and condos. Single family homes from the tiny to the towering. Common denominators shared by all homes are money and people. People need homes and money to sustain them whether they’re rented or owned. We often talk about money as if it’s a disconnected thing. Money’s over there while people are over there. The two topics get disconnected as if one has nothing to do with the other.

I wonder if this could be why Jesus gets right to the point when he talks about money. People and money are as connected as it gets and Jesus focuses on connecting people with God and each other. Like today’s Gospel reading from Luke about the disputed inheritance and Jesus’ parable about the rich fool. It was normal for a younger brother to bring inheritance questions to their rabbis who could settle a dispute.[3] He was likely a younger brother because there was a norm in estate law of the time that either kept the estate fully intact by the oldest son OR that allotted the older brother a double-share with the younger brother receiving a third – much like the younger brother in the Prodigal son parable[4] who received one-third of his father’s estate.[5] Somehow Jesus was on to the younger son’s greedy motives because he answered his question with the parable about the greed of the rich fool.

Even Jesus’ easy parables aren’t easy. At face value, the parable of the rich fool is kind of simple. Simply interpreted: Greed is bad; and so is the man who builds the bigger barn. So what if the man builds a bigger barn? It’s HIS grain. He can do what he wants with grain produced on his land. But the reality of parables is that they have layers, layers that wrap around listeners and pull us in. Pull us in and shine light on our own lives by the parable. Here’s a layer. Building a bigger barn focuses on HIS wealth, himself and no one else. He’s not simply a rich fool, he’s also a lonely one. His bigger barn builds walls not only around his grain but between himself and his community. He dies alone with no one to give it to. Missing the chance to bless God by blessing others.

Greed as a topic is difficult. No one enjoys self-examination on the greed spectrum. It’s made extra difficult because we humans have a survival instinct that trips us up. This is one reason that the empty tomb of resurrection is helpful. The empty tomb is the end of the story promised through the cross of Christ. Because we know the end is rich in God’s promise, we’re free to examine the middle of the story; our own stories through the lens of the parable of the rich fool.

His greed is one example of self-preservation run amok. He has so much grain at his disposal that his bigger barn turns into his only idea. The rich fool is in an echo chamber of his own making. He turns only to himself about what to do with all his grain. Once he decides to build a bigger barn, he tells his soul to relax, eat, drink, and be merry. He doesn’t talk with his workers, his community, or God. And he curves in on himself even further by taking his own advice. And then he dies alone, curved around his wealth yet unable to take it with him.

Jesus often convicts his listeners, showing them how curved in on themselves they’ve become. Turned inward and, therefore, turned away from God. And turned inward and turned away from neighbors. Jesus attempts to turn the younger son, who is worried about his inheritance, outwards. The parable about the man who builds the bigger barn can be heard as Jesus’ attempt to wake up that younger son along with everyone else who is listening in, and live life on Jesus’ terms and not our own. Jesus’ terms include right-sizing ourselves alongside everyone else. As his mother Mary sang in her Magnificat earlier in Luke, “Bringing down the powerful…and lifting up the lowly.”[6] Leveling and strengthening the connections between each other as a meaningful way to live before any of us flat lines.

Last weekend, a lot of my time was spent with families who were saying goodbye to loved ones who had died. When we celebrate someone’s life, we often say quite a bit about the person who died. We remember them and we remember God’s promises to them. I often remind people during the welcome that as we celebrate the person who died, funerals can also bring up other losses in our lives, allowing grief a sacred space and time. With each funeral, as I listen to the stories about the person who died, it makes me grateful for the ways that I knew that person, grateful for other people in my life who have died, and grateful for the precious fragility of my own life and the people I love.

In Ecclesiastes, the writer known as the Teacher reflects on mortality. In the verses read today, the Teacher is almost cynical about the transience of life. Here one minute, gone the next. The Hebrew word for vanities is “hebel,” meaning breath or vapor.[7] “All is vapor…and a chasing after the wind,” says the Teacher who reminds us what really matters about life. The Psalm is nicely paired with both Ecclesiastes and the parable in getting us to think about the value of life. The parable reveals the value of life in the tragedy of the rich fool who wastes his life by spending abundant wealth only himself, the psalmist reflects the value of life in a matter-of-fact way – you’re mortal and finite so you can either trust God or trust self and wealth; and Ecclesiastes edges toward the cynical before the Teacher turns the book towards hope in later verses.[8]

The value of life is worth wrangling through hard conversations, intense prayer, and careful thinking. Figuring out how to spend our moments and our money makes at least the attempt to align our lives on Jesus’ terms, focusing on life with our short spans of life together here. Encouraging each other along the way lest we fall into despair or turn inwards on ourselves and lose sight of each other and of God. One of the gifts of being part of a faith community is the gift of reminding each other to uncurl from inward turning. Christ unleashes us from the perils of self-preservation at the expense of our neighbors by reminding us that we belong to each other and to God, inspiring generosity as the very antidote to greed and connection as the antidote to despair. In the very next verses after our Luke reading, Jesus tells his followers not to worry. Next week we’ll hear a few of these verses as Jesus says, “Do not be afraid, for it is God’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” Reminding us once more that out of God’s generosity comes our own. Thanks be to God, and amen.

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[1] Watch Ann Hultquist’s powerful sermon here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fKgPQP8TXbM

[2] Listen to those 32 minutes about the rezoning vote of the Denver City Council meeting here: https://denver.granicus.com/player/clip/14946?meta_id=1105979

[3] Niveen Saras, Pastor, Immanuel Lutheran Church of Wausau, Wausau, WI. Commentary on Luke 12:13-21 for WorkingPreacher.org

[4] Luke 15:11-16

[5] Saras, Ibid.

[6] Luke 1:52

[7] J. Blake Couey, Associate Professor of Religion, Gustavus Adolphus College, St. Peter, Minnesota. Commentary on Ecclesiastes 1:2, 12-14, 2:18-23. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-18-3/commentary-on-ecclesiastes-12-12-14-218-23-5

[8] Matthew L. Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, Minnesota. Sermon Brainwave Podcast: #855 8th Sunday after Pentecost. https://www.workingpreacher.org/podcasts/855-8th-sunday-after-pentecost-ord-18c-july-31-2022

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Psalm 49:1-12

Hear this, all you peoples; give ear, all inhabitants of the world,

2both low and high, rich and poor together.

3My mouth shall speak wisdom; the meditation of my heart shall be understanding.

4I will incline my ear to a proverb; I will solve my riddle to the music of the harp.

5Why should I fear in times of trouble, when the iniquity of my persecutors surrounds me,

6those who trust in their wealth and boast of the abundance of their riches?

7Truly, no ransom avails for one’s life, there is no price one can give to God for it.

8For the ransom of life is costly, and can never suffice

9that one should live on forever and never see the grave.

10When we look at the wise, they die; fool and dolt perish together and leave their wealth to others.

11Their graves are their homes forever, their dwelling places to all generations, though they named lands their own.

12Mortals cannot abide in their pomp; they are like the animals that perish.

Practical Hope for Life Today [OR Listen, God is Calling] Mark 6:14-29 and Ephesians 1:3-14

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on July 11, 2021

[sermon begins after two Bible readings]

Mark 6:14-29  King Herod heard of it, 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.” 15But others said, “It is Elijah.” And others said, “It is a prophet, like one of the prophets of old.” 16But when Herod heard of it, he said, “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.”

17For 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. 18For John had been telling Herod, “It is not lawful for you to have your brother’s wife.” 19And Herodias had a grudge against him, and wanted to kill him. But she could not, 20for 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. 21But an opportunity came when Herod on his birthday gave a banquet for his courtiers and officers and for the leaders of Galilee. 22When 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.” 23And he solemnly swore to her, “Whatever you ask me, I will give you, even half of my kingdom.” 24She went out and said to her mother, “What should I ask for?” She replied, “The head of John the baptizer.” 25Immediately 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.” 26The king was deeply grieved; yet out of regard for his oaths and for the guests, he did not want to refuse her. 27Immediately the king sent a soldier of the guard with orders to bring John’s head. He went and beheaded him in the prison, 28brought his head on a platter, and gave it to the girl. Then the girl gave it to her mother. 29When 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, 4just as he chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless before him in love. 5He destined us for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ, according to the good pleasure of his will, 6to the praise of his glorious grace that he freely bestowed on us in the Beloved. 7In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace 8that he lavished on us. With all wisdom and insight 9he has made known to us the mystery of his will, according to his good pleasure that he set forth in Christ, 10as a plan for the fullness of time, to gather up all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth. 11In 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, 12so that we, who were the first to set our hope on Christ, might live for the praise of his glory. 13In 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; 14this is the pledge of our inheritance toward redemption as God’s own people, to the praise of his glory.

[sermon begins]

Last Sunday, I stopped at the grocery store on my way home from church. This means that I was also still wearing my church clothes, including the collar. Choosing the zippiest checkout lane, I found myself in a line with a cashier I’d never met. She wasn’t new, by any means. She was waving at people who called out her to her, talking across lanes with other cashiers, directing the grocery bagger on how to help a customer with propane, and welcomed me to the party with a warm, “Hi honey, how are you?” As she handed me the receipt, she held onto it for a few seconds, leaned way over and quietly asked, “Are you a priest?”

“A pastor,” I replied.

“Will you pray for me?”

“Yes,” I said as I started looking for her name tag to commit it to memory.

She held up her name badge and told me her name. I repeated her name and told her again that I would pray for her. She thanked me and I went on my way. From entering her line to the prayer request couldn’t have been more than five minutes – a short, sincere, and significant scene.

Our Bible story today is a scene of a different kind. The gospel writer teased us in the first chapter with half a verse about John the Baptist’s arrest and in the third chapter with the Pharisees conspiring against Jesus with Herod’s followers, but waited until the sixth chapter to expand on the story.[1] It’s the full meal deal with John’s head served as the final course of the banquet at Herod’s party.[2] Gruesome and horrific, it’s like a scene in a movie that spotlights just how evil the evil ones can be. Herod had heard about Jesus and his apostles proclaiming repentance, casting out demons, and curing the sick among the villages. When he heard about it, Herod was haunted by the idea that John, whom he beheaded, had been raised. Initially, Herod imprisoned John to protect him from his wife Herodias’ grudge. He liked listening to John’s perplexing teachings and confined him to a handy dungeon. But Herodias won the long game and trapped Herod in his oath-keeping and in his concern for what other people thought about him. Herod was “deeply grieved,” but apparently not grieved enough to do the right thing.

Herod executed John to save face and protect his power. His evil act haunted him when he heard about the things that Jesus and his apostles were doing, once again connecting John the Baptist’s and Jesus’ ministries. At first, Herod’s deep regret stood out in this gruesome tale as something we can all relate to – even if we haven’t chopped off anyone’s head. But then, Jesus’ apostles and John’s disciples became more compelling. What were they doing around the edges of Herod’s evil acts? Mark, the gospel writer, bookends Herod’s story by first highlighting Jesus’ apostles preaching repentance, casting out demons, and curing the sick; and afterwards, recounting how “the apostles gathered around Jesus to tell him all that they had done and taught” before they got down to Feeding the Five Thousand.[3] Mark concludes John’s murder with a short note about his own disciples’ compassion and action. “When his disciples heard about it, they came and took his [beheaded] body, and laid it in a tomb.” Not only does laying John in a tomb further connect his ministry and its end to Jesus’ earthly ministry and its end, but John’s disciples and Jesus’ apostles are examples of people practicing hope in the face of institutional evil and corrupt power.

Last week, I was in a meeting in which the opening icebreaker was to share a sentence or two about where we see signs of hope in a violent world. As you might imagine, the answers were all over the board, but there was a unifying theme that could be described as the hopeful behavior that we see other people doing and that we ourselves try to do – people creating hope for themselves and others by working with other people creating hope for themselves and others. Not spinning illusory hope for someday but working towards practical hope for today. Working repentance and healing for abundant life for everyone. And this takes us to the Ephesians Bible reading.

This reading starts the first of seven weeks in Ephesians, so it’s a good time to read this very short book attributed to Paul, although more likely written by one of his students. Ephesus was located in what’s now the western coast of Turkey. The letter’s message praises God’s work in Jesus, freeing us from sin by grace through faith that creates us for good works. In these opening verses of the first chapter that were read today, we hear about the spiritual blessings in Christ. Included in the list of blessings is redemption in Christ. Redemption in Biblical times meant the equivalent of being freed from slavery.[4] Redemption from sin would mean being freed from sin. Now obviously, Jesus followers have as much problem with sin as anyone else. But redemption in Christ also gives us a faith community through our baptisms and through whom we experience the weekly and even daily call to surrender our sin at the foot of the cross and practice faith, hope, and love as adopted children of God through Jesus Christ.

It’s taken me more that my fair share of time to figure out that being adopted as a child of God through baptism has nothing to do with playing it safe. In fact, being named child of God in baptism draws us into acts of practical hope for today that often don’t align with the goals of leaders who hold institutional power. Was John the Baptist safe? No. Was Jesus safe? No. Were Jesus’ early followers safe? No. Are we safe? No, I’m afraid not. What we are is redeemed and freed by the gospel into the work of practical hope assigned by Jesus.

The cashier who asked for prayer sees Jesus people as a sign of practical hope. Each day our baptism works in us the practical hope of dying to sin and raising us to new life so that we’re less like Herod and more like Jesus. Living into a life that is ever more Christ-shaped as a Jesus follower, safety from corrupt power fades to black while acts of practical hope take center stage in public acts of the faithful. Advocacy is one way to do the work of practical hope; community organizing is another. Working through legislation and ballot initiatives that change people’s real lives now. It’s partly why Augustana has a fledgling Human Dignity Delegate ministry to address issues of human dignity in the public square. The next meeting is August 1. Let me know if you’d like more details.

In a moment we’ll sing “Listen, God is Calling.” In the language of Herod’s story, God calls us from our self-absorbed, death-dealing sin. God redeems us into freedom from those very sins and our inevitable regret for them. God’s call through the cross of Christ empowers us by the Holy Spirit into the unsafe, bold, and practical hope on behalf of the gospel for the sake of the world. It’s a good day to be reminded of this good news. Amen.

 

Song after the sermon:

Listen, God is Calling [Neno lake Mungu][5]

#513 Evangelical Lutheran Worship (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 2006)

Refrain

Listen, listen, God is calling through the Word inviting, offering forgiveness, comfort and joy. (repeat)

Jesus gave his mandate; share the good news that he came to save us and set us free. [Refrain]

Let none be forgotten throughout the world. In the triune name of God go and baptize. [Refrain]

Help us to be faithful, standing steadfast, walking in your precepts, led by your Word. [Refrain]

_______________________________________________________________

[1] Mark 1:14 and Mark 3:6

[2] Karoline Lewis, Professor of Biblical Preaching, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Sermon Brainwave: Commentary discussion of Mark 6:14-29 for July 11, 2021. https://www.workingpreacher.org/podcasts/792-7th-sunday-after-pentecost-ord-15b-july-11-2021

[3] Mark 6:30 immediately follows the gospel reading of Mark 6:14-29

[4] Lutheran Study Bible (NRSV). Ephesians 1:7 study note. (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 2009), 1922.

[5] Austin Lovelace and Howard S. Olson (1968). Lutheran Theological College, Makumira, Tanzania, admin. Augsburg Fortress.

Knowing Enough to Hope [OR Knowing Enough to Be Dangerous] Romans 5:1-8

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on June 14, 2020

[sermon begins after Bible reading]

Romans 5:1-8 Therefore, since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, 2 through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand; and we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God. 3 And not only that, but we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, 4 and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, 5 and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.

6 For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. 7 Indeed, rarely will anyone die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person someone might actually dare to die. 8 But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us.

[sermon begins]

“I know enough to be dangerous.” This is something people say when they don’t know much about a topic but they think that they have a gem to throw in the mix. I’m that way with art. A few trips through museums and suddenly I feel free to wax rhapsodic on Degas and da Vinci. Whatever my failings in knowledge, though, I make up for in enthusiasm. There are times when you look at a masterpiece and the effect is transcendent. For a moment your eye is captured, and your soul is filled with something “other.” Beauty has that effect. Closer to the ground, we’re cresting into late spring. Aspirations of green thumbs abound across many a beating heart while some blooms begin to fade, and heartier ones take their place.

Last week, it was the pale pink peonies that frothed in a profusion of petals. 2020 is a perfect year for them. The right amount of sun and water fell, and the hail didn’t. After my usual hemming and hawing about leaving them outside or bringing them in, I clipped a bouquet and have been enjoying them all week. I posted a picture of them on the media, attempting poetry about “air for the soul.” (Again, I know enough to be dangerous.) The thing about beauty is it reminds us that our humanity is part of something – something both essential and transcendent. For me, this is especially necessary when times are difficult, when everyone seems to know enough to be dangerous and when suffering seems inescapable.

Suffering is a universal human experience. There was plenty of it in my early kid years when my family was blown apart by mental illness and domestic violence. And more, during my years as a pediatric oncology nurse. And more, over time as a pastor. Here’s one of the things I know about suffering from all those years. Suffering cannot be compared. It’s a lot like beauty that way. What’s more beautiful – Degas’ elegant sculpture of “La Petit Danseuse” or the riotous tumble of pink peonies? It’s a ridiculous question. Suffering is similar. Being with someone who is suffering for any reason is NOT a time to get into qualifying their experience, giving a different take on it, or redirecting them to someone else’s experience of suffering. That stuff is the opposite of helpful. Being with someone who is suffering IS a time to listen and to wonder. It’s a time to share their burden by holding space for it without rushing to comfort. Sharing the burden lightens the suffering without imagining that it can be taken away.

Suffering is something the Apostle Paul seems to understand. How often do you suppose he cried out to God withOUT a pen in hand? It must have been a lot given his turn from the one giving punishment to the one on the receiving end of being beaten, stoned, and imprisoned.[1] For him to write about suffering like that, he knew it intimately, like a friend, just like he knew God. Listen again to a few of the verses from his letter to the Roman church.

“Therefore, since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, 2 through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand; and we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God. 3 And not only that, but we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, 4 and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, 5 and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” (Romans 5:1-5)

The Apostle Paul is talking to all of us. One reason his words about suffering resonate so strongly is because he describes what he knows and what we know. And he knows way more than enough to be dangerous. He knows enough to be comforting. Comfort is no small thing. It’s not appeasement – meaning I’m not making you feel better so that I feel better. Comfort is deep knowing shared across our human experience. Most of us have experienced suffering and still we live on. Some of us not so elegantly but still we live. Paul’s account of moving from suffering to endurance to character to hope is a description not a strategy. He describes what we know by faith and experience about how suffering works. There are days in the midst of it that we wonder how it’s possible to make it through. Days in which we’re not sure who we are anymore. And then, in the body of Christ, the church, we’re reminded once again of the main things – God’s promises to us no matter what is happening.

For our congregation, one such moment was Matthias’ baptism in the last couple of weeks. Long on the worship calendar, his baptism on Pentecost couldn’t have been more perfectly timed. Masks and quiet sanctuary notwithstanding, water flowed off Matthias’ head in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. We prayed for the Spirit of wisdom, understanding, knowledge, and joy. And he was sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever. In baptism God promises to be present, to form us as disciples, to always take us back, and to be the eternal One in our lives every day. In baptism, we “have obtained access to this grace on which we stand.” We were buried with Christ in baptism so that we too might live in newness of life. Today. Right now, even in suffering, we are pulled through the cross of Christ.

The cross frames suffering in a different way. The cross promises the presence of God in suffering. We know Jesus’ body broke and died which means that God knows suffering and suffers with us. God’s alignment with our suffering promises endurance through to hope. Hope does not come at the expense of false optimism where we close our eyes and wish everything away. False optimism is knowing enough about hope to be dangerous. Rather, hope comes from being planted at the foot of the cross while awaiting new life and continuing to do the hard work of grieving and the hard work of reconciliation with each other. Simply put, the cross binds us to the hard work of love in the midst of suffering – loving God, loving ourselves, and loving our neighbor in such a time as this. By our baptism, our gracious heavenly Father frees us into hope and forms us into instruments of cross and resurrection in the name of the one who is, who was, and who is to come, Jesus Christ our Lord.[2] Amen and thanks be to God.

And now receive this blessing…

Neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers,

nor things present, nor things to come,

nor powers, nor height, nor depth,

nor anything else in all creation,

will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.

You are held by God in the name of the Father, ☩ and the Son,

and the Holy Spirit, now and forever.

Amen.

__________________________________________________________

[1] Acts 7 (when Paul was still Saul); Acts chapters 9, 13, 14, 16, 18, 21, 22, and 23.

[2] A paraphrase of Revelation 1:8

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The Gospel Reading for worship today:

Matthew 9:35-10:8 Then Jesus went about all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues, and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom, and curing every disease and every sickness. 36 When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. 37 Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; 38 therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”

1 Then Jesus summoned his twelve disciples and gave them authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to cure every disease and every sickness. 2 These are the names of the twelve apostles: first, Simon, also known as Peter, and his brother Andrew; James son of Zebedee, and his brother John; 3 Philip and Bartholomew; Thomas and Matthew the tax collector; James son of Alphaeus, and Thaddaeus; 4 Simon the Cananaean, and Judas Iscariot, the one who betrayed him.

5 These twelve Jesus sent out with the following instructions: “Go nowhere among the Gentiles, and enter no town of the Samaritans, 6 but go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. 7 As you go, proclaim the good news, “The kingdom of heaven has come near.’ 8 Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons. You received without payment; give without payment.

The Light Shines in the Darkness and the Darkness Never Will Overcome It – John 1:1-5, 14

Longest Night: A Service of Hope and Healing, offering a quieter time of reflection during the Christmas Season

Pastor Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on December 19, 2018

[Reflection begins after the Bible reading]

John 1:1-5, 14  In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being 4 in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.                                         14 And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.

We have an advent wreath in our home.  Sometimes there’s a little chaos when I, the pastor, am somehow caught off guard by the arrival of Advent and end up dashing through the town to find candles.  (The irony of racing around for candles to mark the quiet expectation of Advent is not lost of me.)  Our wreath is a bit makeshift but that has its own appeal.  When they’re finally in place, three purple and one pink candle gradually burn down in their descending lengths over the four weeks of Advent.  Some years, the candles are lit without fanfare.  Other years, when I’m feeling especially pious (you know…in a good way), I find prayers to accompany the Sundays.

This year, without any planning, I simply said something like, “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not, cannot, will not, never will overcome it.”   There’s something about the promise of that verse.  It’s simple and powerful.  Simple because most of us know the comfort of light when we’re afraid in the dark.  Powerful because it doesn’t take much light to lessen the darkness but darkness is a necessary part of seeing light. We know this cosmically by looking at the stars in a moonless sky.  We know this intimately by lighting a candle in a dark room when the power goes out. Last Sunday in Adult Sunday School, one question Pastor Ann asked us in the class was “in what or where do you find joy right now or generally in this Advent season.”  There were several answers about Christmas lights and quiet moments.  Mine is the Advent wreath in all of its soft light meeting the darkness at its edges.

A rabbi friend of mine recently opened a meeting of interfaith leaders with a devotion about darkness and light.  The co-revealing of both the light of the menorah candles celebrating Hanukkah and the darkness in which we sat was framed, on the one hand, by the recent loss of life at a Pittsburgh synagogue and, on the other, by the joy of our shared connections with each other in the room, shadows holding the light.  The symbolism and the power of what it was representing was as plain as the candles burning in the dark room.  Candles have that way about them.  A pastor friend of mine likes to wave the occasional caution flag about finding a new use for candles in worship because they become so dear so quickly.  The small flame speaks volumes when words simply fail us.  While we’re worshiping together, we’ll have an opportunity to light a candle in remembrance or in prayer – powerful when words fail us.

And words often do fail us in the mystery of faith.  Deep in our bodies, in the life force of our bones, the words of creation are embodied but not explained.  The Gospel of John opens with the same words as Genesis, the first book in the Bible.  “In the beginning…”  In the beginning all was formless void in deep darkness until there was also light.[1]  John writes, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God…what has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people.”   Our candles symbolize something so much deeper with their flames.  With them we remember the God of history. God who creates light in the darkness and new life in a young mother’s body as the baby Jesus, new life as God’s Word made flesh.  God also promises to be with us today in Jesus – shining light in the darkness and new life here, now, in us, in OUR flesh.  We don’t always have the words to use but many of us know something about the light of the one who breaks into our darkness.  Whether that’s the darkness of illness, fatigue, grief, or the mess we’ve made of things, we know and have experienced God’s promise of light – most often it’s much to our surprise.  Being surprised by the light is kind of the best way because we know, deep inside, that we don’t create the light.

The Light is given by the One who is the Light and opens our eyes in deep darkness, in the midst of suffering.

From cradle through cross to new life, Jesus lives forgiveness that tells the truth about ourselves and each other, bending fear into courage and transforming hatred into love so that we too reflect the light, shining light into darkness. The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness will not, cannot, does not, never will overcome it.

Amen.

——————————-

[1] Genesis 1:1-5

The Life of the Party [Proverbs 9:1-6, John 6:51-58]

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on August 19, 2018

[sermon begins after two Bible readings]

Proverbs 9:1-6  Wisdom has built her house, she has hewn her seven pillars. 2 She has slaughtered her animals, she has mixed her wine, she has also set her table. 3 She has sent out her servant-girls, she calls from the highest places in the town, 4 “You that are simple, turn in here!” To those without sense she says, 5 “Come, eat of my bread and drink of the wine I have mixed. 6 Lay aside immaturity, and live, and walk in the way of insight.”

John 6:51-58 I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.” 52 The Jews then disputed among themselves, saying, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” 53 So Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. 54 Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day; 55 for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. 56 Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them. 57 Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me. 58 This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live forever.”

[sermon begins]

Wisdom is ready to party. Her house is decked out down to the twinkle lights on the pillars. There’s meat in the smoker, sangria by the pool, and a table setting so full of Pinterest pins it’s downright holey.  Wisdom is ready to party.  No one can accuse her of holding a party only for people equal to her eternal, creative power.  She flings wide the doors and shouts from the rooftops. She calls for simple and senseless people. Wisdom is ready to party, dear friends, and it’s our simple, senseless ears that are listening.  Listening through the many voices competing for airspace. Listening for how Wisdom, in her eternal glory, makes sense to the senseless.

Regarding our simple and senseless ears, Wisdom doesn’t seem to be inviting us into a new opinion. Opinions are everywhere right now. It seems like everyone should be ready to weigh in about all things at all times. We confuse wisdom with the social tool of opinion. A tool that we use at parties, in the hallways at work, via text with our friends, on social media, in the car on the way home from church – you name the location and we’re wielding our opinions like clubs. To be clear, opinions are actually important. They affect real lives in real time. Opinions decide where food ends up, where people live, how we drive our cars, and who gets elected. Opinions guide our choices in each moment of each day. Opinions matter. However, today’s Bible readings invites us to consider the difference between opinion and Wisdom. Not the least of which is that opinions decide who gets to be at a party, while anyone and everyone is invited when Wisdom is ready to party.

One of the courses I took on sabbatical is called Executive Skills for Church Workers.  For five days and many hours at a time, professors and executives from the business world regaled 20 of us pastors in the ways of accounting, entrepreneurship, information systems, social media, and more. Our accounting professor worked for many years as a consultant to large banks. She is married to a pastor and has also served on church councils as treasurer. Go ahead, ask me to lay out my fledgling opinion about zero-based budgets versus growth budgets as they relate to the church. Even more fun, let’s talk entrepreneurship and how new ideas are thread and cast to change the world.

The point is, we know how opinions are formed and shaped. Opinions can be widely held – of COURSE, Aretha Franklin is Queen of Soul! Opinions can rightly hold people and institutions accountable for misbehavior – from our banks sub-prime lending to our schools support of teachers in classrooms full of priceless children to our government’s accountability to the people to our churches plagued by pastoral misconduct. We know that opinions can be limited, biased, uninformed, and misleading.  We also know that opinions can be wise and insightful. We know all of these things and, still, our opinions are challenged by Wisdom’s invitation.  Wisdom is ready to party.  Come hungry to the party because Wisdom is preparing food.

Ahhhh, food. I love food which for me means a love of cooking that includes cooking shows, movies about cooking, pictures of food, recipes, and foodie restaurants.  But the best part of cooking is actually cooking. As Rob and I have flirted with an empty nest, cooking has taken on a different quality.  It’s become more reflective at the end of a work day.  It’s sensory in a way that settles my spirit. Slicing, dicing, sautéing, smelling, tasting, serving, chewing, swallowing…you get the idea.  It’s not much of a stretch to envision Wisdom’s invitation that includes food, wine, and people sharing supper.  Although it’s quite a stretch to cross space and time from Wisdom’s party to Jesus’ invitation to eat flesh and blood in wine and bread.  Wisdom is ready to party and Jesus keeps it weird.  There’s a bumper sticker for you – Wisdom is ready to party and Jesus keeps it weird.

Jesus doesn’t speak the classic words of communion in the Gospel of John.  The classic words of communion, what we call the Words of Institution, begin with the words, “On the night in which he was betrayed, Jesus took the bread…” Jesus’ Bread of Life chatter in the sixth chapter is what he throws down.  And what Jesus gives us in these verses is weird – flesh, blood, bread, and wine weird.  The weirdness moves the crowd around Jesus from complaining to outright arguing with each other as they start forming their opinions about what he’s said.  At this level, Jesus doesn’t seem interested in the opinions.  Nor does Jesus seem interested in being taken into our hearts. Jesus seems interested in our mouths, gullets and bellies, in what’s digested and becomes part of bodies, in what he calls true food and true drink. This word “true” in the greek, alēthēs (ἀληθὴς), is literally translated as “what can’t be hidden.”[1]  Another way we say this in the church is that Jesus is truly present in, with, and under the bread and wine.

Jesus tells us that eating this true food IS abiding in him and he in us. This abiding is happening at the gut level – digestion and nourishment. Jesus abides in our very selves at the cellular level. Literally, in our flesh. The infinite God contained in the finite; the divine mystery in bread and wine and in our very bodies. This is insight from the inside out. Talk of insight brings us full circle back to Wisdom’s party.  In verse 6 of the Proverbs reading, walking in the way of insight is defined a few verses later in verse 10 as knowledge of the Holy One. This is not meant as insight forming yet one more opinion to be explained and understood. Rather this insight is a relationship with the Holy One who is Jesus. The living Jesus sent by a living God.[2]

The Jesus in John’s gospel throws down communion words about flesh, blood, bread, and wine while he’s living his life early in his ministry. In the gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke as well as for Paul in First Corinthians, communion words are spoken at a Passover meal on the eve of his death.[3] In the gospel of John, Jesus’ words about flesh, blood, bread, and wine draw life into focus – bringing the eternal in the flesh, into the now of living.[4] Jesus IS life. More than that, Jesus is life now, today, as the eternal, infinite God meets us in bread and wine.  Neither just a crusty remembrance of life ended on a cross in the past, nor a golden ticket into a future life to be postponed as long as possible.  Jesus promises life today – the abundant life of God in real relationship with us here and now.[5]

God’s source and norm of life brings hope t a world choking on opinions that end relationships. This is good news for our simple, senseless ears.  We embody hope and life in the world as we abide in Jesus and he in us.

Wisdom is ready to party and Jesus is the life of the party.  Welcome to the Table.

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[1] ἀληθὴς as interpreted by HELPS Word-studies at https://biblehub.com/greek/227.htm.

[2] John 6:57

[3] Matthew 26:26-29; Mark 14:22-25; Luke 22:15-20; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26

[4] Karoline Lewis, Luther Seminary, Associate Professor of Preaching and the Marbury E. Anderson Chair of Biblical Preaching.  “A Living Bread” (John 6:51-58) on Dear Working Preacher for August 19, 2018. https://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=3667

[5] John 10:10 [Jesus says] I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.

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