Tag Archives: song

Connection at the Cradle’s Edge [OR Two Women Preaching a Shared Vision] Luke 1:39-55

**sermon art:  The Visitation, James B. Janknegt, 2009, oil on canvas

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on Advent 4, December 23, 2018

Luke 1:39-45 [46-55]  In those days Mary set out and went with haste to a Judean town in the hill country, 40 where she entered the house of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. 41 When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leaped in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit 42 and exclaimed with a loud cry, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb. 43 And why has this happened to me, that the mother of my Lord comes to me? 44 For as soon as I heard the sound of your greeting, the child in my womb leaped for joy. 45 And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her by the Lord.”

46 And Mary said, “My soul magnifies the Lord, 47 and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, 48 for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; 49 for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. 50 His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. 51 He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. 52 He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; 53 he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. 54 He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, 55 according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”

[sermon begins]

Ohhhh, cat fight!  Well, not really.  Not at all actually.  Mary and Elizabeth are two women in it together.  Both have slightly different jobs that work toward the same vision.  After Mary’s surprise pregnancy, she makes haste to the hills to her relative Elizabeth who is already six months pregnant in her old age.  Later we learn her visit to Elizabeth lasted about three months.[1]  Perhaps Mary was there when John was born to Elizabeth and Zechariah – helping her aging relative with a difficult labor and delivery and then heading home as her own belly grew heavy with pregnancy.  This is no small relationship between the two women.  In a world that often pits women against each other, imagining competition where there isn’t any, here we have one of many examples in which competition is simply not the case.  Not only was Mary welcomed by Elizabeth and the baby inside of her.  Mary was celebrated by them.  The baby leaped in Elizabeth’s womb and she was filled with the Holy Spirit to proclaim to Mary, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.”  Celebration, indeed.

The celebration continues after Elizabeth’s joyous welcome with Mary’s psalm in response.  Psalms are a form of song in the Bible. They aren’t necessarily a location in one book of the Bible.  Psalm songs in Luke lead us to up to and beyond cradle’s edge.  In addition to Elizabeth and Mary, the priest Zechariah sings of God’s faithfulness after the birth of his son who becomes John the Baptist, the angels sing to shepherds in a field of good news for all people, and the prophets Simeon and Anna praise God’s mercy for all people.[2] Their songs celebrate the faithfulness of God in the One soon to be cradled in a manger and his mother’s arms.  Song is a way to remember. Songs get trapped in our head differently and become available in our minds at times when other words fail us.  Songs of full of faith and Christmas promise can sustain our faith and remind us of what we easily forget in the day – that the world and our connection with other people is to be celebrated by way of God’s imagination not our own imagined state of competition.

In her psalm, Mary praises God for humbling the proud, bringing down the powerful, lifting the lowly, and feeding the hungry.  One reaction to Mary’s psalm might be vengeful if you’re exhausted by oppression and survival. Another reaction to her psalm might be dread if you hear you’re about to lose something.  In a world that often pits people against each other, inciting competition, categorizing winners and losers, Mary’s psalm can be heard as either/or categories – either you’re the powerful at the top waiting to be toppled or you’re the lowly at the bottom waiting for your turn to be at the top.  For God’s sake, we know what happens to that cradled baby Jesus who grows into the ministry celebrated by his mother’s psalm.  The competition perceived by the political and religious powers took Jesus to trial and death on a cross.  But let’s remember for a moment, that the cross was good news both for the criminal who hung next to Jesus and for the Roman centurion nearby who praised God and confessed truth.[3]  Not either/or categories – both/and – all!

Okay, I’ve dabbled at the cross long enough. Let’s return to the cradle’s edge, shall we?  Pregnant expectation is where we’re at with Mary and Elizabeth.  Even the baby in Elizabeth’s belly is jumping for joy.  The women are joyous and hopeful as they greet each other.  Their psalms preach hope and promise, a vision jump-started by the Holy Spirit.  Two women, both preaching, both celebrating new life in the form of a baby but not yet a baby born.  Another word for this is hope.

Hope is my word for the church year. I chose it at the end of November before Advent began.  I chose the word hope as an antidote to the seemingly endless messages of despair.  With a word chosen to focus faith, I have a better shot at seeing life through the lens of God’s imagination and promise rather than human frustration and despair.  I have a better shot at living and sharing the hope that is within us by the power of faith.  Elizabeth and Mary’s moment is a case in point.  Mary left town in a hurry to go see Elizabeth.  She had a lot to fear in town.  Betrothed but not yet married to Joseph, young and pregnant, facing potential backlash from her community, she walks through Zechariah’s front door into safety and celebration with Elizabeth.  I imagine Mary showing up at Elizabeth’s home with the fatigue and nausea common to the first trimester of pregnancy and perhaps with some worry about the future.  Elizabeth’s Holy Spirit welcome is like a fresh breeze that smooths Mary’s furrowed brow and blows the dust off of her traveling feet and inspires Mary’s response in the Magnificat.

If Mary’s response is anything, it’s a word of hope. So much more than greeting card worthy, the Magnificat is bold, rebellious, and full of joy.  It’s hope-filled because, as we’ll hear in a few days, this is good news of great joy for ALL people.[4]  Which means that the mighty cast down and the lowly brought up stand together with each other by the power of Jesus.  It’s not about putting the lowly in the mighty category and the mighty in the low to simply repeat the same bad news.  Mary’s psalm births the possibility that the baby growing inside of her will lead us into love that connects rather than competes.  Not sentimental love where we pat each other on the head and wish each other good luck.  Rather, it’s a love that means seeing each other as human relatives, celebrating each other as Mary and Elizabeth did.  Sometimes it’s a compassionate love that soothes and consoles us within the cradle of Christ’s presence.  Sometimes it’s a convicting love that helps us understand when we are in the wrong from the courage gained by Christ’s cross.  Mary’s psalm afflicts those of us who are comfortable while comforting those of us who are afflicted.  The cradle and the cross reveal a lot about us.

But mostly the cradle and the cross reveal the Christ.  From cradle through cross to new life, Jesus is grace that tells the truth about ourselves and each other, bending fear into courage and transforming hatred into love so that we live as people with hope.

___________________________________________________

[1] Luke 1:56

[2] David Lose, Senior Pastor, Mt. Olivet Lutheran Church, Minneapolis, MN. Commentary on Luke 1:39-55 for December 20, 2009. https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=515

[3] Luke 23:39-47

[4] Luke 2:10-12 But the angel said to [shepherds], “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: 11 to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. 12 This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.”

 

A sermon for Phil and for you – Luke 2:25-32

Pastor Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on March 1, 2016

[sermon begins after Bible reading – additional readings at end of sermon; Phil chose the scripture as part of planning his own funeral.]

Luke 2:25-32  Now there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon;* this man was righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit rested on him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah.* Guided by the Spirit, Simeon* came into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him what was customary under the law, Simeon* took him in his arms and praised God, saying,
‘Master, now you are dismissing your servant* in peace,
according to your word;
for my eyes have seen your salvation,
   which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples,
a light for revelation to the Gentiles
and for glory to your people Israel.’

[sermon begins]

Mary and Joseph are faithful, religious parents.  Part of what this means is that they bring Jesus to Jerusalem at the designated time in infancy to present him to the Lord.  Reverent and expectant, they likely approach the temple with the kind of anticipation many families approach the baptismal font.[1]  It is a big day in the life of this small, holy family.  Into the city of Jerusalem they go, winding their way through town and into this holy place.  They’re not entirely sure what will happen but there is ritual that can be anticipated.  What couldn’t be anticipated is Simeon.

Simeon also winds his way into the temple that day as guided by the Holy Spirit.  Likely an old man, “it had been revealed to him that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah.”[2]  In his enthusiasm at finally meeting the Messiah, he scoops Jesus away from his mother and into his own arms.  That would have been surprising enough for Jesus’ parents.  But Simeon adds to the strangeness of the moment by praising God in song:

“Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.”[3]

It’s easy to get swept away into the beauty of Simeon’s Song along with its heady lyrics.  He sings about God’s salvation in the presence of all people, Jew and Gentile alike.  Simeon’s excitement is infectious.  Art work depicting Simeon singing to the baby Jesus is filled with joy, awe and tears.  What’s easy to miss is that Simeon is ready to die.  This song is entitled the Nunc Dimittis which means in Latin, “Now send away.”[4]  It’s a song sung in Communion liturgies and compline prayers at the end of the day.  It’s a song of comfort but it is also stark.  Simeon is so faithful and so ready to die.

Phil’s choosing of his own funeral scripture gives us a glimpse of his own faithfulness.  He chose more scripture than is included today.  A bit like he couldn’t stop once he got going on it.  The main theme across the scripture he chose is God’s faithfulness.  All about who God IS.  God’s faithfulness, not our own.  And, yet, the many stories I’ve heard about Phil from Kevin and others of you, are a testimony to Phil’s faith.

A favorite story, told by Phil to Kevin, is one from when Phil was very small.  Small enough to be lifted onto the counter by his parents.  Small enough to lean into them as they leaned toward him so that they could share in their “three-corner kiss.”  Phil was raised by faithful parents who shared their love of him and their love of God with him.  As a baby he was baptized in the sacrament that washed him in God’s promises.

Phil trusted in God’s promises along the way – as a child of the Depression, as a soldier in the Army, as a business and music major in college, as a husband of sixteen years who lost his wife to cancer, and as a choir member totaling 64 years of his life.  God’s faithful promises were lived in and by Phil as he became a Stephen Minister as well as a long-time home communion visitor – taking hope and forgiveness through the sacrament of Holy Communion to people who could no longer get to church.  Along with these ministries, many of you shared with me that Phil would call you on your birthday.  Kevin told me that Phil would take the birthday lists from the church newsletter so that he could track and celebrate your birthdays with a phone call.  Such a gift.

Ultimately, Phil’s faith was a gift.  A gift to him from God that continued to give to the people around him.  Living his gift of faith came with the clarity about his own imperfections and the limits of his humanity.  He worshiped Sunday after Sunday with the awareness and humility of someone in need of a savior.  He worshiped to hear Jesus’ promise of forgiveness and love again…and again…and again.  In the end, Phil was ready.  His body and mind as fragile as his tattered, well-worn Bible with the pages falling out.

As Phil and his parents shared their “three-corner kiss,” they shared the love of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit through their love for each other.  As Simeon shared the joy of God’s salvation, he sang praises to God, holding the baby Jesus, guided by the Holy Spirit.  The testimony of these two faithful people was separated by millennia and also separated by Jesus’ death on a cross.  In the waters of baptism, God’s promises claim Phil through that cross.  God’s promises also claim you.  At the beginning of the service we gave a Thanksgiving for Baptism.  Hear those words again:

When we were baptized in Christ Jesus, we were baptized into his death. We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live a new life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.[5]

This is God’s promise for Phil as his baptismal journey on earth ends with his death and he is received into the peace of a loving God.  And this is God’s promise for you.  You are now dismissed in peace, according to the Word of God.[6]  Amen.

 

[1] David Lose.  “The Oddest Christmas Carol” on Luke 2:25-38 for Working Preacher on December 25, 2011.  https://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=1510

[2] Luke 2:26

[3] Luke 2:29

[4] Lose, ibid.

[5] Evangelical Lutheran Worship (hymnal). Life Passages: Funeral. (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 2006), 280.

[6] Luke 2:29 – Simeon sings, “Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word…”

 

Isaiah 12:2-6  Surely God is my salvation; I will trust, and will not be afraid, for the Lord God is my strength and my might; he has become my salvation. 3With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation.

4And you will say in that day: Give thanks to the Lord, call on his name; make known his deeds among the nations; proclaim that his name is exalted. 5Sing praises to the Lord, for he has done gloriously; let this be known in all the earth. 6Shout aloud and sing for joy, O royal Zion, for great in your midst is the Holy One of Israel.

 

Psalm 139:1-10

1Lord, you have searched me and known me.
2 You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from far away.
3 You search out my path and my lying down,
and are acquainted with all my ways.
4 Even before a word is on my tongue,
Lord, you know it completely.
5 You hem me in, behind and before,
and lay your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
it is so high that I cannot attain it.
7 Where can I go from your spirit?
Or where can I flee from your presence?
8 If I ascend to heaven, you are there;
if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.
9 If I take the wings of the morning
and settle at the farthest limits of the sea,
10 even there your hand shall lead me,
and your right hand shall hold me fast.

Lamentations 3:21-26

But this I call to mind,
and therefore I have hope:
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
‘The Lord is my portion,’ says my soul,
‘therefore I will hope in him.’
The Lord is good to those who wait for him,
to the soul that seeks him.
It is good that one should wait quietly
for the salvation of the Lord.

John 1:43-51 “Can Anything Good Come Out of Lutheran Church of the Master?”

John 1:43-51 “Can Anything Good Come Out of Lutheran Church of the Master?”

January 15, 2012

Lutheran Church of the Master, Lakewood, CO

 

John 1:43-51 – The next day Jesus decided to go to Galilee. He found Philip and said to him, “Follow me.” 44 Now Philip was from Bethsaida, the city of Andrew and Peter. 45 Philip found Nathanael and said to him, “We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth.” 46 Nathanael said to him, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Philip said to him, “Come and see.” 47 When Jesus saw Nathanael coming toward him, he said of him, “Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!” 48 Nathanael asked him, “Where did you get to know me?” Jesus answered, “I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you.” 49 Nathanael replied, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!” 50 Jesus answered, “Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than these.” 51 And he said to him, “Very truly, I tell you, you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.”

 

From time-to-time I go through the ritual of giving up coffee for awhile.  Maybe just to see if I can.  Maybe because I like it with fake sugar and half-and-half, neither of which are all that good for me.  Maybe it’s so I can live piously alongside those green tea zealots.  Or maybe a little of all of that and more.  Regardless, I’m in tea mode.  This means that I get to read poetry on the sides of my boxes of tea and receive wise counsel from the little tags that hang from the tea bag’s string.  About a week ago there was one such tea bag tag that hung in my mind for awhile.  This particular tea bag tag spoke a 19th century Chinese proverb also credited to Maya Angelou.

“A bird does not sing because it has an answer, a bird sings because it has a song.”

And “What,” I hear you thinking, “does this tea-frothed bit of pop philosophy have to do with Philip, Nathaniel and Jesus?”  Fabulous question!  Let’s recap…

Jesus finds Philip – note that please – Jesus finds Philip.  Philip then finds Nathaniel and makes a big speech about finding Jesus.  Who found whom here?  And then, after Philip says he found Jesus, he launches into Jesus’ family tree – first from the way, way back into Moses-and-the-law-and-the-prophets part and then the more recent son-of-Joseph-from-Nazareth part.  Philip has the details.  After being found by Jesus, he makes known who Jesus is.  He’s laying out Jesus’ street cred to Nathaniel.  Now here’s where it gets interesting.  And here’s where I’d like us to spend some time.  Nathaniel says to Philip, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”  How snarky is that?  Philip is pumped up, super-excited and gets shot down by his buddy.  He has a song to sing about Jesus, he sings it, only to receive a snorting, derisive laugh from his unbelieving friend.

Think for a second about what you’re natural inclination is when that kind of thing happens to you – when you receive a snorting, derisive laugh from an unbelieving friend.

Maybe you go quiet, stunned that you’re unable to communicate this huge thing in a convincing way.

Maybe you get angry, shocked that your ideas and your excitement are so easily dismissed by a friend.

Maybe you get legal, spurned into creating an air-tight argument that builds the logical case for faith.  Your song gets shut down and you either shut-down or rev up the debate machine.

Personally, I’ve tried them all.  All of those responses have bubbled up without a lot of thought or clarity when someone goes snarky on who I think Jesus is.  I’ve gone quiet. I’ve gone angry and I’ve gone legal.  About eight years ago I handed out the book “Case for Faith” by Lee Strobel to a longtime friend.  She handed it back to me and said something like, “Well he argues out of the Bible and so you have to believe the Bible to believe his argument.”  In essence, she said to me, “Can anything good come out of the Bible?”

There is a YouTube video gone viral this past week called “Why I hate Religion but Love Jesus.”[1]   In his video, this young man is singing a song about Jesus while railing against his experience of the church.  In essence he is asking, “Can anything good come out of the church?”

“Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”

“Can anything good come out of the Bible?”

“Can anything good come out of the Church?”

It is my guess that many of us have taken our turns at being both Philip and Nathaniel.  We have tried to sing a song of Jesus, or quietly hummed one, and we have also tried to discredit someone’s faith-filled singing telegram filled with love for Jesus.

Let’s look at Philip again.  What is his response to Nathaniel?  Does he go quiet?  No.  Does he get angry?  No.  Does he argue?  No.  What does he do?  He invites…“Come and See.”

So Nathaniel troops off to meet Jesus.  And what does he do after his encounter with Jesus?  He sings his own song about Him.  Nathaniel says, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!”  From snarky unbelief to singing faithfulness, Jesus is the one who has seen it all and Jesus is the one who turns it all.  He turned it for Philip and then he turned it for Nathaniel.

The text isn’t entirely clear on when Nathaniel was under the fig tree or if anyone was with him.  I imagine him standing there under the fig tree with Philip while he proclaims his unbelief over and against Philip’s confessional song of Jesus and I can hear Philip’s call of, “Come and see,” to Nathaniel.  So then Jesus would have heard both the honesty of Nathaniel’s unbelief and the honesty of his confessional song.  This is a different slant on what it means to confess.  In the church we use the word a couple of ways.  Mostly we think of confession and forgiveness.  That there is something I need to come clean about so I confess to it, I fess up, I admit my wrongdoing.

Philip and Nathaniel’s confession is of a different sort.  They are making a declaration, making something known.  They are confessing who they think Jesus to be – much like we do when we confess the Apostle’s Creed together.  If the confessional songs of our ancestors in the faith hinge on meeting Jesus then what does meeting Jesus look like today.

In this season of Epiphany, we have this symbol of a star over our heads to remind us that Jesus Christ is revealed to those we think the least likely to succeed on Christ’s mission – peasant parents, suspect shepherds and milling magi.  It’s not so different today really.  While Christ promises to reveal himself in the waters of baptism, in bread and wine of the communion table and in the words of scripture, Christ also promises to reveal himself in the least likely to succeed on Christ’s mission – us.  See these ribbons pointing out over us?

Can anything good come out of Lutheran Church of the Master?

Can anything good come from us people whose snarky unbelief can sometimes seem to claim the day?  And to us Jesus says, “I have seen you when you were standing away from me under the fig tree in your unbelief just as I hear you confessing me now as Lord.”

And Jesus continues, “I see what you don’t do and what you do that hurts people.  I see the pain you inflict on your brothers and sisters in Christ and to other children of God by not giving, not forgiving, not helping, not loving.  I see your unbelief and I pour myself through it.”  In the last verse of the reading today Jesus says, “Very truly, I tell you, you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.”  In this he refers to himself on the cross as the redeemer of us – the ones who are least likely to succeed.

And Jesus also promises to send us with the power of his Spirit, working through us, revealing Himself through the active care of others.   So as we confess, as we declare, Jesus in word and action, led by the Spirit, Jesus says, “Yes, I have seen you under the fig tree but I also see you organizing canned food drives in your neighborhoods, sending teenagers and brave adult chaperones to New Orleans, tutoring the children at the elementary school, taking communion to the sick and hurting, praying for those who need help, building homes for the homeless, donating money and time and action to those who need it, walking toward the communion table together in your need for Jesus.”

By the power of the Holy Spirit, it is Christ in you who frees you into these things – these ministries that stretch you beyond your own self-interest into being the hands of Christ for each other and for the world.

By the power of the Holy Spirit, it is Christ in you who strengthens you to serve people in God’s name.

And, by the power of the Holy Spirit, it is Christ who inspires your confessional song of Jesus.

By the power of the Holy Spirit, may your song of Jesus be revealed to you by the One who came under a star to live in skin and solidarity with us!



[1] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1IAhDGYlpqY