Peace to Share, Peace to Send [OR A Prevailing Pentecostal Peace]

**sermon art: Pentecost by Mark Wiggin

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on May 24, 2026

[sermon begins after two Bible readings; see the other two at the end of the sermon]

John 20:19-23 When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors were locked where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” 20 After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. 21 Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” 22 When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. 23 If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”

Acts 2:1-12 When the day of Pentecost had come, [the apostles] were all together in one place. 2 And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. 3 Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. 4 All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.
5 Now there were devout Jews from every people under heaven living in Jerusalem. 6 And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. 7 Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? 8 And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? 9 Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, 10 Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, 11 Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.” 12 All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, “What does this mean?” 13 But others sneered and said, “They are filled with new wine.”
14 But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them, “Fellow Jews and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say. 15 Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o’clock in the morning. 16 No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel:
17 ‘In the last days it will be, God declares,
that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh,
and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
and your young men shall see visions,
and your old men shall dream dreams.
18 Even upon my slaves, both men and women,
in those days I will pour out my Spirit,
and they shall prophesy.
19 And I will show portents in the heaven above
and signs on the earth below,
blood, and fire, and smoky mist.
20 The sun shall be turned to darkness
and the moon to blood,
before the coming of the Lord’s great and glorious day.
21 Then everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.’ ”

[sermon begins]

Three weeks ago, it was standing room only in The Basilica-Cathedral of Our Lady of Altagracia, known by the locals as Basílica Catedral Nuestra Señora de la Altagracia. Omar, our cabbie, had dropped me off at mass and took Rob and the Trussell sprouts to the local market. The first Sunday of the month is a pilgrimage day, so Dominicans came from all over the country. Cars, vans, and coach buses filled the parking lot. Amid the heat and humidity, I stood packed in the sanctuary entrance, sharing air with the folks who’d also missed out on getting a seat among the over 3,000 of us there. My Spanish is as rudimentary as it is earnest, but the liturgy was comforting and familiar. Some of the responses I was able to say in broken Spanish and the rest of it I quietly spoke in English when I could tell where we were.

Very few times in my life has my skin color not been the main one in the group around me. I can count those situations on two hands, including my high school that was 89% Black, Indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC). During the Basilica mass, I saw two other people that looked like me. Mostly, I was left to my own thoughts and experience except for during the sharing of the peace—el compartir la paz. The elderly gentleman in front of me turned, took my upper arms as I held his elbows and we said, “Paz.” His friends then shared it with me, clasping my arms and I theirs. Turning to my right, the young people and I did the same. I was moved to tears during this timeless, intimate ritual of reconciliation and Christian friendship as we shared Christ’s peace.

In John’s gospel, Jesus announced peace to his friends and showed them his wounds on his hands and his side. They rejoiced as had the women at the tomb who were the first witnesses of the resurrection. There was a lot to be relieved and happy about. Jesus was alive! Then he gave them the Spirit in a deeply intimate exchange of breath.

The disciples were locked in a room in Jerusalem in the three days after their friend and teacher was executed on a cross. Of course, they were afraid and hiding, not knowing who to trust. Jesus showed up in the midst of their fear. We all know what it’s like to feel afraid as the disciples did. Some of us more than others feel the fear of letting go of this life. Some of us feel the fear of political events beyond our control and wonder who to trust. Some of us feel fear closer to home as we simply survive. It’s into this fear and the way that it holds us captive that Jesus announces his peace and breathes the Spirit into us to send us out in peace. He said, “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” Jesus simultaneously comforts with a word of peace and challenges as he sends them on their way to serve others as he served in his earthly ministry.

The John reading is as intimate and personal as the Acts reading is wondrous and communal while both stories are extraordinary experiences of the Spirit. In Acts, the first century church received the Spirit in a blaze of glory. The long list of peoples pronounced for us during the reading spoke languages from lands across the Mediterranean Sea, east of the Caspian Sea, and south of the Persian Gulf. Places we know today as Europe, the Middle East, and Africa. The Spirit of Jesus poured out in a new way over this multiethnic group of folks without regard for position and rank.[1] The Spirit moved through the young, the old, the men, the women, and the slaves. The Spirit lit them up with prophesies, visions, and dreams.

No wonder other people thought they were drunk. Pentecost fire had a moment with the people and left them changed to become the church they were sent to be. They are part of who we are because we exist as a congregation, a small corner of God’s whole church, the meaning of the church catholic with a little “c.” But their ecstatic moment was not forever. Their euphoria and wonder quieted.

Life in the faith became challenging almost immediately as the twists and turns of history subdued their Pentecostal fervor through the twists and turns of history. But, for a moment, there was an experience of unity that amazed and perplexed the people. They heard their own language and couldn’t fathom how it could be, so they wrote it off as drunken babble. And then Peter began to preach.

Preaching is an act that has little to do with the preacher and everything to do with the Holy Spirit – a stark and humbling truth for a preacher. Many a preacher has had the experience of people hearing something in the sermon that the preacher didn’t say but was something that that person dearly needed to hear. Lutheran Christians believe that through preaching the Holy Spirit calls us by the gospel, the good news of Jesus, and fills us with faith. I had that experience through the words of a preacher and the power of the Holy Spirit. I was amazed and perplexed week after week hearing about grace, forgiveness, mercy, beauty, and hope while receiving faith through that same preaching. The message of being unconditionally beloved and created good as the first act of God was new to my adult ears. That God’s breath of the Spirit created wonder and life and, as we heard in the Psalm today, even joy as the Leviathan of the sea sported in chaos of the deep.[2]

God does not leave us swirling in the chaos but brings us to new life – to the life of the Spirit’s imagination and, thankfully, not our own. Often, what we can imagine fits into specific limits of good and bad, order and chaos, black and white, and so on. What we can imagine is limited by the languages we speak and the kinds of people we know. From those limits we make decisions both conscious and unconscious about how we think the world works.

Someone who is fluent in eight different languages recently said that when you speak another language you are a slightly different version of yourself in that language because language strongly impacts our thinking and interactions. It’s astonishing to watch as we did our daughter’s bilingual fluency in Spanish. She was our translator in the Dominican Republic. Watching someone respond to her with either relief or respect as she crossed the barrier of language, culture, and thinking, added to my own experience of how language works across difference. And led me to wonder what it means to understand and be understood as a feature of the gospel by the power of the Spirit.

Thankfully, the Spirit blows through our assumptions and sends us into the world with something different. We’re sent as specific individuals with what makes us ourselves and we’re sent with something quite global that is deeper than color, culture, or protocol and builds multiethnic community unified by the Spirit over and against the uniformity of our limited experience. Unity is not uniform. As on the first Pentecost, unity functions through difference to amaze and perplex us as well as to challenge our assumptions about meaning by pausing long enough to ask the question, “What does this mean?” More than an academic question, this is a faithful question to ask ourselves.

The earliest Christians were led by the Holy Spirit to cross culturally defined boundaries including ethnicities. Their experience makes we wonder how we attain fluencies to be aware of ourselves and others so that channels are opened between us. This isn’t about learning Spanish. Although by all means go for it. This is about the Spirit opening us to an understanding greater than ourselves for the good of each other and for the sake of the world. Ecstatic experience of the Spirit inspires and deepens our peace to encounter the other as connected to us by the gospel and love of God. May the Spirit fill us with the fire of faith as we share Christ’s peace among us and as we’re sent out to do the same. Alleluia and amen.

_________________________________________________

[1] Matthew Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary. Sermon Brainwave for Pentecost, May 31, 2020. https://www.workingpreacher.org/brainwave.aspx?podcast_id=1267

[2] Rolf Jacobson, Professor of Old Testament, Luther Seminary. Sermon Brainwave for Pentecost, May 31, 2020. https://www.workingpreacher.org/brainwave.aspx?podcast_id=1267

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Psalm 104:24-34, 35b

24 O Lord, how manifold are your works!
In wisdom you have made them all;
the earth is full of your creatures.
25 There is the sea, great and wide;
creeping things innumerable are there,
living things both small and great.
26 There go the ships
and Leviathan that you formed to sport in it.
27 These all look to you
to give them their food in due season;
28 when you give to them, they gather it up;
when you open your hand, they are filled with good things.
29 When you hide your face, they are dismayed;
when you take away their breath, they die
and return to their dust.
30 When you send forth your spirit, they are created,
and you renew the face of the ground.
31 May the glory of the Lord endure forever;
may the Lord rejoice in his works—
32 who looks on the earth and it trembles,
who touches the mountains and they smoke.
33 I will sing to the Lord as long as I live;
I will sing praise to my God while I have being.
34 May my meditation be pleasing to him,
for I rejoice in the Lord.
35 Let sinners be consumed from the earth,
and let the wicked be no more.
Bless the Lord, O my soul.
Praise the Lord!

1 Corinthians 12:3b-13

No one can say “Jesus is Lord” except by the Holy Spirit.
4 Now there are varieties of gifts but the same Spirit, 5 and there are varieties of services but the same Lord, 6 and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone. 7 To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good. 8 To one is given through the Spirit the utterance of wisdom and to another the utterance of knowledge according to the same Spirit, 9 to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing by the one Spirit, 10 to another the working of powerful deeds, to another prophecy, to another the discernment of spirits, to another various kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues. 11 All these are activated by one and the same Spirit, who allots to each one individually just as the Spirit chooses.

12 For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. 13 For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and we were all made to drink of one Spirit.

 

Grace at the Gate [OR Holy Fire & Hot Wings]

**sermon art: Generosity by Stig Lofnes, oil on canvas

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on April 26, 2026

[sermon begins after the Bible reading]

John 10:1-10 [Jesus said:] 1 “Very truly, I tell you, anyone who does not enter the sheepfold by the gate but climbs in by another way is a thief and a bandit. 2 The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. 3 The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. 4 When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. 5 They will not follow a stranger, but they will run from him because they do not know the voice of strangers.” 6 Jesus used this figure of speech with them, but they did not understand what he was saying to them.
7 So again Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. 8 All who came before me are thieves and bandits, but the sheep did not listen to them. 9 I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved and will come in and go out and find pasture. 10 The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.”

[sermon begins]

You may have felt a Holy Spirit surge over the past few days as Lutherans across our four state Rocky Mountain Synod gathered in Denver for our Synod Assembly led by elected Bishop Meghan Johnston Aelabouni.[1] We hosted a special guest this year. Imran Mohammed Siddiqui is Vice President of the ELCA, Augustana’s denomination. and chairs the Churchwide Council.[2] “An atheist in college, he converted to Christianity in 2009 through the work of the Spirit in the Pentecostal church. After being invited by two of his friends to worship at St. John’s Lutheran Church in Atlanta in 2011, he fell in love with the liturgy and the Lutheran focus on God’s grace.”[3] He brought our Presiding Bishop Yehiel Curry’s welcome to the Assembly.

Imran partook in a hot wing interview with Bishop Meghan and Synod V.P. Ray Ferry. In a hot wing interview, the participants eat progressively hotter wings while talking with each other. During the hottest of the wings, Imran got fired up about God’s grace that we celebrate and need to share. People need to hear about God’s unconditional grace and love from us. He said that we have literal words of life to share with the people around us and asked why aren’t we doing it!

A few weeks ago, Pastor Michael preached to us about the sign that comes right before ours today—the man born blind to whom Jesus gives sight. The man born blind, who could now see because of Jesus, was launched into fame of his own. And he was also launched into community. Rather than narrow the playing field. Jesus opened it to include one more so that the man could have life and have it abundantly. Jesus who said, “I AM the gate,” opened it wider.

Jesus is all about abundance in the gospel of John.[4] Fine wine that overflows at a wedding. Bread and fish that feed 5,000. Love that pours through death. Life that lives beyond it. Sign after sign accomplished by Jesus to reveal the risen one who laid his life down. That’s in verse 11 just after our gospel reading today, Jesus said, “I AM the good shepherd—the good shepherd lays his life down for his sheep.” On Good Shepherd Sunday, it’s easy to get confused as to whether Jesus is the gate or the shepherd. The answer to both is yes. Yes, Jesus is the gate. Yes, Jesus is the shepherd.

In our Bible reading, Jesus explains the sign of the sight restored to the man born blind in his discourse as the gate and the shepherd. Shepherds in the Bible are leaders and kings—Moses and King David are two of many shepherd examples, and then Jesus had the title. To give us a place to focus, hear Jesus’ gift to us as he says, “I am the gate.” He says it twice. “I am the gate.” A gate denying thieves and bandits their goals. A gate opened by nail-wounded hands. A gate opened for easy passage to food and life.

Jesus said that he came to give abundant life. The theme of our Synod Assembly was Life in Christ. Assembly is an interesting mash-up of lay folks, ministry leaders, and rostered deacons and pastors. Pat, Don, A.J., Pastor Michael, and I attended as Augustana’s voting members. We heard stories from folks in Lutheran Churches across Utah, Wyoming, New Mexico, Colorado, and El Paso, Texas.

One story from Assembly that sticks with me was the interview of a college senior named Matt. He brings several of his friends to church every Sunday, driving around campus to pick them up. Matt’s faith is as much an open topic for him as everything else in his life. When friends are struggling, he says to them that he has something that works for him and asks if they’d like to hear about it. Depending on the situation, he may even offer to pray with them. What caught my attention was when he said to his friends that he has “something that works me.” When I was in my early 20s, I didn’t know which end was up religiously or theologically. The Jesus taught to me growing up was scary and unpredictable. I had two close friends that I was able to ask about their faith because the way they lived was compelling. Both of them said almost exactly what Matt said, “It works for me.” Matt is more assertive. He says, “I have something that works for me, would you like to hear about it?”

Some of us have reasons for why church or why Jesus works for us. Some of us may still be trying to figure it out. Jesus the Good Shepherd as a gate that stands open is one of mine. While I celebrate the heights of human achievement with those that scale them. I’m much more interested in the way Jesus levels the playing field by laying his life down and opening the gate for us all.

For Jesus followers, figuring out what works for us by faith and how to talk about it is a way of faith. It can also be a natural instinct to set up the gate so that we might feel some small glimmer of hope that our right faith keeps us safe from that which would harm us or destroy us. But we can so quickly turn our instinct into driving people out as if we ourselves are the gate, or at least the ticket-taker.

Jesus says to his disciples, “I am the gate.” Jesus as the open gate in this passage is very, very different than Jesus as a faith-ticket-taker. You know, like I have my ticket of faith which gives me entrance to the right church and then, at the just the right time, I hand my ticket of faith over to Jesus so that all will be well, so that I will be well.

I’m pretty sure there are no tickets of faith-in-Jesus that purchase protection for deflecting the worst kind of pain. Perhaps to confirm this we could check in with a few of our most faithful siblings in the nearest ICU or hospice.

And I’m pretty sure that there is no ticket-of-faith in Jesus that unleashes a cash windfall – perhaps we could check in with some of our poorest and most faithful siblings in Christ next door and around the planet who wonder where their next meal is coming from.

We experience faith living in the shadow of the cross while clinging to the promise of the Easter resurrection. In the season of Easter, we live on this side of the resurrection although we see it through a glass darkly.[5] The realities of the cross are real even today. Jesus does not describe a world free of bandits and thieves. Jesus names the bandits as real, as the powers that rob us of life and health.[6]

So then, Jesus is the gate to the abundance of what? He says, “I came so that you may have LIFE and have it abundantly.”  That he says this through the specter of the cross is key. Jesus lives a truth about the mess of human reality on the cross. Jesus overcomes that reality not by ignoring it but by dying on it. Lighting up our vulnerability through his own—vulnerability that cannot be ignored. So then we can stop pretending that we know enough and are strong enough to be our own gates, our own gods. Jesus promises an abundant life that is the power of God’s love in the midst of real threats, in the middle of thieves and bandits who kill and destroy, who show up in the valley of the shadow of death.

Jesus is the gate through whose death and resurrection we enter and emerge into life abundant today, no waiting.

Jesus is the gate who sees the truth of the whole you – the image of God in you and the worst of the brokenness in you.

Jesus is the gate who promises that death, when it comes, may win the moment but does not win the day when you breathe your last in this body and awake in the next.

Jesus is the gate who lays his life down in unconditional love and grace for you. Alleluia and amen.

___________________________________

[1] Rmselca.org/assembly26

[2] ELCA.org

[3] Imran M. Siddiqui | People | ELCA

[4] Laura Holmes, Professor of New Testament, Wesleyan Theological Seminary, Washington D.C.. Commentary on John 10:1-10 for April 26, 2026. Commentary on John 10:1-10 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[5] 1 Corinthians 13:12  For now we see through a glassdarkly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; but then shall I know, even as also I am known.

[6] Craig Koester, Gospel of John, Course Lecture at Luther Seminary, October, 13, 2010.

Looking in the Rearview at The Road Taken [OR God Wastes Nothing—Cosmos, Creation, and Creature]

 

**sermon photo: Nasa

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on April 19, 2026

[sermon begins after Bible reading]

Luke 24:13-35 Now on that same day two [disciples] were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, 14 and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. 15 While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, 16 but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. 17 And he said to them, “What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?” They stood still, looking sad. 18 Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?” 19 He asked them, “What things?” They replied, “The things about Jesus of Nazareth, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, 20 and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. 21 But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. Yes, and besides all this, it is now the third day since these things took place. 22 Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, 23 and when they did not find his body there they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. 24 Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said, but they did not see him.” 25 Then he said to them, “Oh, how foolish you are and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! 26 Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” 27 Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, he interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures.
28 As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. 29 But they urged him strongly, saying, “Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.” So he went in to stay with them. 30 When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. 31 Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him, and he vanished from their sight. 32 They said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?” 33 That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem, and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. 34 They were saying, “The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!” 35 Then they told what had happened on the road and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread.

[sermon begins]

The first assignment in my 9th grade drama class was choosing and memorizing a monologue to read in an accent different than my own. Thus was Robert Frost’s poem, “The Road Not Taken,” earnestly butchered in a British accent by yours truly.[1] Sparing you the torment of a reenactment, Frost’s poem observes the chosen road from the rearview of looking back on it. It’s a very human thing to do. We make sense of our life by looking back, interpreting events and then reinterpreting them, wringing meaning from our experiences as we wrestle with them.

Our faith stories are similar. Those of us who’ve lived long enough can look back and see how God wastes nothing from our lives. Each wild misadventure. Each painful doubt. Each transcendent hymn. Each miserable failure. Each shining celebration. Each shattering grief. Each quiet joy. Each deep regret. Each sin forgiven. Each normal everyday moment. All those seems-like-yesterday moments spun by God through baptismal water into the cross-and-resurrection Easter faith we live today.

For Cleopas and his friend on the road to Emmaus, yesterday couldn’t come soon enough to start making sense of all they’d seen and heard and felt in Jerusalem. They had a seven-mile walk ahead of them. Just that morning the women disciples had come racing from the tomb to tell them that Jesus was alive. While the two friends walked and talked, the freshly resurrected Jesus joined them. They didn’t know it was Jesus and regaled him with their story. “Then beginning with Moses and all the prophets, [Jesus] interpreted to them the things about himself in all the scriptures.” He preached way, way back about himself through Moses and the prophets before his earthly yesterdays, stories winding through time that made Jesus himself.

It’s not lost on THIS preacher (pointing at myself) that his lengthy sermon did NOT open the two friends’ eyes to Jesus. The big reveal happened through the meal. “When [Jesus] was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight.” Ahhh, they ate and then the scriptures and preaching made sense. Hindsight. Looking back through a current experience to see something new on the road we traveled.

Making sense of things in the moment and seeing God’s activity in real time can be tough. Communing and talking with another Jesus follower, sharing our experiences through faith, can make all the difference in our faith. Very few people are good at figuring things out all by themselves in real time. Most of us need other people as we understand our experiences, allowing the roots of faith to deepen as our stories wind across time.

If you had told me back in the days when I was building my nursing career, acquiring degrees, and having babies that I’d become a pastor, I would have laughed out loud, shaking my head at the lunacy. Looking back though, I see the threads of being baptized as an infant and having First Communion in the Catholic Church; being baptized again by immersion at the age of 12 in my stepfather’s fundamentalist reformed tradition; leaving church altogether as a religiously exhausted college student; and then marrying a Lutheran and baptizing our babies by the grace of God. Those roads made little sense at the time.

But God wastes nothing. Those stories now weave together by the power of the Holy Spirit. Telling those stories reveal imperfect and unlikely roots of faith in Jesus. Each one of you has your own story through which faith has played its part, perhaps along with some doubt shaking things up and keeping faith real. Faith and doubt are partners in the mystery of faith.

We have plenty of mysteries of faith starting with the mystery of creation itself. Earth Day, celebrated civically on Wednesday this week across 190 countries, is but a piece of this cosmic Christian mystery. The Nicene Creed that we’ll say together a little later in worship attributes creation first to “one God…maker of heaven and earth, of all that is, seen and unseen.”

We’ve seen some wondrous glimpses of the unseen most recently through the eyes of the Artemis II astronauts looking out the windows of their spacecraft Integrity. We saw a bright feature where the near side of the moon meets the far side. They officially named this bright feature for Commander Weisman’s wife Carroll who recently died of cancer.[2] The crew cried together as they grieved and celebrated with their Commander. And some of us also celebrated God, maker of heaven and earth, for the sheer magnitude of the cosmos through which our earthly home spins.

The Nicene Creed goes on to acknowledges “one Lord, Jesus Christ…through him all things were made.” A second attribution of creation through the words of John’s Gospel: 1 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…[3]

Lastly, the Nicene Creed acknowledges “the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life…and the life of the world to come.” Each of the three articles of the creed revels in the mystery of life and creation through the Trinity—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Creation is announced; life is formed and given. Looking back through the millennia reveals what we can see of the road taken by God whom we profess as three-in-one and one-in-three, the holy, blessed Trinity.

As creatures set within creation, we can also look back and around now to see the impact of our interactions with creation. Producing life giving energy means negotiating the unintended consequences of mining, oil extraction, and use of their gifts. Consequences that negatively impact air, water, quality of life, worker safety, and peaceful coexistence without wars over energy sources. It’s well-documented that our creaturely lives are changed for the better when energy becomes available and affordable. Communities thrive when energy production is introduced and when we address energy as a systems issue not an individual failure.[4]

We are creatures who are simultaneously saint and sinner through the cross of Christ. The cross is our foundation for truths that are good, bad, and ugly. Not one of us can claim perfection or omniscience when it comes to our motivations, actions, or their consequences. This is just as true of our collective energy production and use for both positive reasons and negative outcomes as it is of our individual and community relationships. Saint-and-sinner is more than a catch phrase. It’s a theological truth.

Regarding the church, we see and celebrate God’s history of salvation and our individual roads that converge here. However it is that we understand the mystery of ending up here together, we can look back and interpret events and experiences through which God has called us here. Like the two friends on the road to Emmaus, this congregation walks deeply in faith while each of our own individual faiths take turns wavering, deepening, doubting. Faith converges our roads into a shared path. It’s a cooperative and Christ-centered pilgrimage for we who “walk as yet by faith.”[5] Walking alongside each other as church. Challenging each other through our different perspectives. Praying for each other when we won’t or simply can’t pray for ourselves. Holding faith steady when we cannot dredge it up in ourselves.

As church together, we remind each other that the Holy Spirit daily and vigorously seals us by our baptism to the faith OF Jesus. Through no effort of our own, the Spirit draws us through the cross of Christ revealing our messy lives on various roads and the fragile faith from which not one thing is wasted by God. Alleluia and amen.

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[1] Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken in Complete Poems of Robert Frost 1949. (U.S.A. Robert Frost, 1949), 131. Also see his poem here: The Road Not Taken – poem by Robert Frost | PoetryVerse

[2] Artemis II proposes moon feature name “Carroll.” https://youtu.be/GAMkRJdu9j4?si=jdfZa4Y_wfG0PiHQ

[3] John 1:3

[4] Melanie AllenXavier de Souza BriggsRobert J. “R.J.” McGrail, and Robert Puentes. “How local leaders and communities are leading the transition to clean energy.” Brookings Institute podcast on July 30, 2025. How local leaders and communities are leading the transition to clean energy | Brookings.

[5] “Burial of the Dead” in Occasional Services: A Companion to Lutheran Book of Worship – LBW Hymnal. (Minneapolis: Augsburg Publishing House and Philadelphia: Board of Publication, Lutheran Church in America, 1982), 121.

Joy and Fear Mingle in Easter Hope [OR An Easter Riff on Seismic Shifts]

**sermon art: The Empty Tomb by Anne Cameron Cutri

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on April 5, 2026

[sermon begins after Bible reading]

Matthew 28:1-10 After the Sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. 2 And suddenly there was a great earthquake, for an angel of the Lord, descending from heaven, came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. 3 His appearance was like lightning and his clothing white as snow. 4 For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men. 5 But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. 6 He is not here, for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. 7 Then go quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’ This is my message for you.” 8 So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy and ran to tell his disciples. 9 Suddenly Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!” And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him. 10 Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers and sisters to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”

[sermon begins]

I grew up in earthquake country. We’d guess the seismic strength of the current quake with each other–a 3.0 on the Richter Scale could be felt a little, a 4.5 would get your attention, and a 6.0 could knock down walls. I remember the first big quake in my teens. I was home alone, on the second floor of our house. It was loud, like a freight train barreling by within feet of the house. It was long, the shaking lasted almost 30 seconds. And it was scary—5.9 scary, the epicenter of the Whittier Narrows quake wasn’t far from Altadena.[1] The house stood through it, but I shook for a while. A few minutes after the quake, my stepbrother Bill strolled nonchalantly into the house and asked me if we had any bar soap. He’d been on his way to get bar soap when the quake hit but the grocery store was a mess. I’d never been so happy to see him! Quakes happen on their own time. They surprise and disrupt what you thought would happen next. And they connect us differently to each other.

This Easter morning, our Bible story begins with an earthquake. But it isn’t the first one felt by Mary Magdalene and the other Mary. Their world had been metaphorically and literally rocked by the events of the past few days. Judas had betrayed Jesus to the ones who arrested him.[2] Peter had denied knowing Jesus to servants and bystanders at his trial.[3] The women looked on from a distance as Jesus cried out on the cross and breathed his last while the EARTH QUAKED THEN, too.[4] Mary Magdelene and the other Mary watched Joseph of Arimathea wrap Jesus’ body in a linen cloth, lay him in the tomb, roll a great stone to cover the door, and walk away.[5] The women’s constant presence was unwavering as their world was rocked by the execution of their teacher and friend at the hands of the powers that be. Some of us know that feeling of not being able to look away when our foundations tremble through a seismic shift.

We’re told that Mary Magdalene and the other Mary return to see the tomb. Their longing to reconnect could have stirred their natural instinct to visit after Jesus’ burial. Their world was immediately shaken by another earthquake, an aftershock of the one at the cross. Perhaps the angel gained leverage from the quake to roll back the two-ton stone before using it as a chair. Afraid of the angel’s power, the guards quaked and fell over as if dead. Just like that [snap fingers], the ones in power were laid flat by their own fear while the Marys’ fear and joy launched them from the tomb to go tell the other disciples, “He has been raised from the dead.”

Reverberating with the good news from the angel, the women met Jesus on their way. They ran to him, knelt and touched his feet. Like the angel, Jesus sends them to tell the good news to his disciples. In this telling of the story, we don’t know how surprised the other disciples were to hear their news. But we do know that the women’s story led to action, because a few verses later the disciples actually do meet Jesus in Galilee.

Regardless, the fear and joy of the women are part of this seismic story. Many of us are shaken to the foundation by things that happen to us and by things happening around us. And many of us experience a God who brings life out of death. Maybe not as dramatically as Jesus resurrecting out of tomb. But individual experiences that, like Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, can mingle our emotions of joy and fear. God begets us through cross and tomb into new life because we are children of God, broken and beloved, resurrected into the body of Christ that we call the church. The church that is resurrected through Jesus’ death and new life.

Part of the good news that we get to share as the church is that there is enough for everybody—enough resources, enough love, enough life—as we extend Christ’s arms of love and grace, so that Jesus’ joyous welcome through us nourishes a disrupted world with community and belonging, nourishes us with hope and new life. Jesus calls us to be the love that we receive however imperfectly we get that done. We share joy with our new neighbors who are new homeowners just down the hill in Augustana Homes. We welcome the stranger with our Refugee Support Teams. We pray for our public leaders while holding them accountable for the dignity of each person made in God’s image. And we love our neighbors as ourselves by accompanying them in advocacy and amplifying their voices with our own.

New life literally abounds as Easter and Spring happen simultaneously this year. Tree roots are soaking up the latest snow even as they clamor for more. Birds fly back to our latitude for nesting and nectar. Perhaps your suffering, confusion, and grief make it difficult to see life at all, to feel any joy alongside your fear. Real life doesn’t conveniently align with the season of the earth or the season of the church. Fear is a reasonable reaction to the unpredictable nature of life on this planet. One gift of the body of Christ is that the prayers, practices, and people of the church’s resurrection faith surround us while we grieve or heal, holding space for joy until we can feel it once more. When we’re too broken to pray, our church community prays for us as the risen body of Christ for each other and for the world. Individually, we are not designed to hold all the things, everywhere, all at once, but the church IS intended to hold the surprises, disruptions, fear, and joy, as a people who look to the future with hope. As a people formed and sustained by the life and love of Jesus.

The good news of Easter surprises us with God’s love for the world, reminding us that we belong to God through the life-death-life of Jesus. The seismic shift of Easter surprises us with the reclining angel on the tomb’s stone who announced to Mary Magdalene and the other Mary that Jesus had been raised as he said; and today, Easter Sunday, and for the next 50 days of the Easter season, we remind each other that there is good news of defiant joy alongside our fear.

God brings us through cross and tomb into the joy of new life because God is love.[6] Made in the image of God, each one of us is beautiful and unconditionally beloved—there is nothing we can do or not do to make God love us any more or any less. YOU are beautiful and unconditionally beloved by God. Such is the radical, excessive, audacious love of God. The love of God is a seismic shift that surprises and disrupts with the power to change the world that God so loves. Jesus first revealed God’s love in his life and ministry on earth including taking our violence into himself on the cross and transforming death into life through the self-sacrifice of love. Through that very love of Jesus, the body of Christ gets to be the love we receive for the sake of the world. Thanks be to God and Happy Easter!

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[1] M 5.9 – The 1987 Whittier Narrows, California Earthquake

[2] Matthew 26:47-50

[3] Matthew 26:69-75

[4] Matthew 27:45-56

[5] Matthew 27:57-61

[6] 1 John 4:16a

Good Friday for Goodness Sake [OR Jesus Loves You More Than You Can Hate Anyone]

**sermon art: Jesus’ Mother, Beloved Disciple by Laura James

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on April 3, 2026

The Gospel of John, chapters 18 and 19 [grab a Bible or web search the readings]

[sermon begins]

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

The goodness of Good Friday has to do with God’s goodness. More specifically, the goodness of Good Friday has to do with Jesus who embodies God. In the Gospel of John, God is Jesus and Jesus is God. The love of God in Jesus, the audacity of grace personified in Jesus, the ultimate power of that love, so enraged his enemies and fueled the mob mentality that ultimately killed him. Jesus ate meals with unlovable people, he had public conversations with women no one spoke to, and he had secret conversations with religious leaders who opposed him by day. The list of his ever-expanding circle of grace and love is endless.

Finally, when the threat of his grace, the threat about who is included in the love of God, became too great, he was killed for it. Grace and unconditional love are that powerful. Jesus predicted his death because dying for goodness’ sake was anticipated as the inevitable attempt to do away with love. Hate’s last gasp against love’ great, disruptive power. Hate will always try to do away with love. But Jesus will always love us more than any of us can hate him.

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

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

Confessions of sin extend to systems that we’re a part of—institutions, countries, governments, families, friendships, communities, and even churches. Systems that hold us captive to sin from which we cannot free ourselves. What does free us? Jesus on the cross. Jesus on the cross holds up a mirror in which we can see our own reflections. Our reflections that simultaneously reveal God’s beauty in us as well as the sin we inflict on each other and cannot justify. No matter how many times we enshroud our sin in self-righteousness, the cross tells us otherwise.

We often act without awareness of how our actions may hurt someone else. That’s why our worship confessions talk about things we’ve done and things we’ve failed to do. That’s why we talk about our sin. Sin gives us language for the way we hurt other people and ourselves with our actions – actions that separate us from each other and God. But nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.[1] Good Friday’s goodness creates space to experience life-giving compassion from the heart of God in the face of our sin. God’s SELF-sacrifice in Jesus also reminds us that Jesus’ death is NOT payment to an angry God or a hungry devil. That’s just divine child abuse. Jesus is a revelation of the goodness of God, taking our violence into himself on the cross and transforming death into life through SELF-sacrifice. The cross surprises us with grace in the face of sin.

God reveals the truth of our death dealing ways while reminding us that God’s intention for humankind is good.[2] Jesus was fully human and fully divine. His life’s ministry and his death on the cross reveal his humanity and our own, reminding us about the goodness for which we were created. The cross awakens that goodness. Jesus’ full and fragile humanity was displayed on the cross. He sacrificed himself to the people who killed him for his radical, excessive love. He did not raise a hand in violence against the people and the world that God so loves. Jesus’ self-sacrificing goodness clears our eyes to see God’s intention for our human life together. Jesus loves us more than we could ever hate him or anyone else.

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

“Meanwhile, standing near the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. 26When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing beside her, he said to his mother, “Woman, here is your son.” 27Then he said to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” And from that hour the disciple took her into his own home.” [3]

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

In the end, the cross isn’t about us at all. It’s about the self-sacrificing love of Jesus who reveals God’s ways to show us the logical end of ours—our death-dealing ways in the face of excessive grace and radical love. We struggle to believe that God applies this grace and love to everyone. It’s hard enough to believe that there’s a God who loves us. It’s downright offensive that God loves our greatest enemy as much as God loves us. But that is God’s promise in the goodness of Good Friday.

There is nothing you can do or not do to make God love you any more or any less. The same holds true for the person you like the least. Jesus loves you more than you can hate anyone AND Jesus loves that person, too. Offensive? For sure. And also reassuring. Because if God’s love includes everyone then it also includes you. God’s arms are opened to all in the outstretched arms of Jesus on the cross, receiving us by God’s reckless grace because Good Friday is reveals that God’s goodness is love.[4] Thanks be to God and amen.

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[1] Romans 8:38-39

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

[3] John 19:25b-27

[4] 1 John 4:7-21

Faith Makes Space for Grief [OR Raising Lazarus and a Valley of Dry Bones]

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on March 22, 2026

[sermon begins after two long Bible readings–hang in there, they’re worth it]

Ezekiel 37:1-13

The hand of the Lord came upon me, and he brought me out by the spirit of the Lord and set me down in the middle of a valley; it was full of bones. 2 He led me all around them; there were very many lying in the valley, and they were very dry. 3 He said to me, “Mortal, can these bones live?” I answered, “O Lord God, you know.” 4 Then he said to me, “Prophesy to these bones and say to them: O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord. 5 Thus says the Lord God to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. 6 I will lay sinews on you and will cause flesh to come upon you and cover you with skin and put breath in you, and you shall live, and you shall know that I am the Lord.”
7 So I prophesied as I had been commanded, and as I prophesied, suddenly there was a noise, a rattling, and the bones came together, bone to its bone. 8 I looked, and there were sinews on them, and flesh had come upon them, and skin had covered them, but there was no breath in them. 9 Then he said to me, “Prophesy to the breath, prophesy, mortal, and say to the breath: Thus says the Lord God: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live.” 10 I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived and stood on their feet, a vast multitude.
11 Then he said to me, “Mortal, these bones are the whole house of Israel. They say, ‘Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.’ 12 Therefore prophesy and say to them: Thus says the Lord God: I am going to open your graves and bring you up from your graves, O my people, and I will bring you back to the land of Israel. 13 And you shall know that I am the Lord when I open your graves and bring you up from your graves, O my people. 14 I will put my spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you on your own soil; then you shall know that I, the Lord, have spoken and will act, says the Lord.”

 

John 11:1-45

Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. 2 Mary was the one who anointed the Lord with perfume and wiped his feet with her hair; her brother Lazarus was ill. 3 So the sisters sent a message to Jesus, “Lord, he whom you love is ill.” 4 But when Jesus heard it, he said, “This illness does not lead to death; rather, it is for God’s glory, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” 5 Accordingly, though Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus, 6 after having heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was.
7 Then after this he said to the disciples, “Let us go to Judea again.” 8 The disciples said to him, “Rabbi, the Jews were just now trying to stone you, and are you going there again?” 9 Jesus answered, “Are there not twelve hours of daylight? Those who walk during the day do not stumble because they see the light of this world. 10 But those who walk at night stumble because the light is not in them.” 11 After saying this, he told them, “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep, but I am going there to awaken him.” 12 The disciples said to him, “Lord, if he has fallen asleep, he will be all right.” 13 Jesus, however, had been speaking about his death, but they thought that he was referring merely to sleep. 14 Then Jesus told them plainly, “Lazarus is dead. 15 For your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe. But let us go to him.” 16 Thomas, who was called the Twin, said to his fellow disciples, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.”

17 When Jesus arrived, he found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb four days. 18 Now Bethany was near Jerusalem, some two miles away, 19 and many of the Jews had come to Martha and Mary to console them about their brother. 20 When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went and met him, while Mary stayed at home. 21 Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. 22 But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.” 23 Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.” 24 Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.” 25 Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, 26 and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?” 27 She said to him, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.”

28 When she had said this, she went back and called her sister Mary and told her privately, “The Teacher is here and is calling for you.” 29 And when she heard it, she got up quickly and went to him. 30 Now Jesus had not yet come to the village but was still at the place where Martha had met him. 31 The Jews who were with her in the house consoling her saw Mary get up quickly and go out. They followed her because they thought that she was going to the tomb to weep there. 32 When Mary came where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” 33 When Jesus saw her weeping and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. 34 He said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Lord, come and see.” 35 Jesus began to weep. 36 So the Jews said, “See how he loved him!” 37 But some of them said, “Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?”

38 Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. 39 Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead four days.” 40 Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?” 41 So they took away the stone. And Jesus looked upward and said, “Father, I thank you for having heard me. 42 I knew that you always hear me, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here, so that they may believe that you sent me.” 43 When he had said this, he cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” 44 The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.”

45 Many of the Jews, therefore, who had come with Mary and had seen what Jesus did believed in him.

[sermon begins]

I recently rewatched the Harry Potter movies, having also read the book series a few times over the years.[1] The magical world-building seen through Harry’s eyes is a wonder to behold, including the Hogwarts school’s carriages that seemingly propel themselves without horse or engine.[2] In the fifth movie we learn that the carriages are pulled by Thestrals, a horse-like winged reptilian creature that can only be seen by someone who has seen death. If you hadn’t seen someone die, then you couldn’t see the Thestrals pulling the carriage. The carriages seem to be pulling themselves. Harry had seen his friend Cedric die at the end of the last movie so Harry could now see these creatures. Seeing his friend die opened his eyes to see something new amid his grief and anger.

Some of us here today know what it’s like to see death, to watch someone’s life leave their body. Mary and Martha certainly did. There was enough time after Lazarus became ill to send word to Jesus. There was more time after the sisters sent word and even more before Jesus finally arrived after Lazarus died. Martha was angry. Mary was miserable. Both were heartbroken and grieving. Both proclaimed their faith in their Lord—if he had been there then Lazarus would not have died. Martha’s confession of faith is one of the big three in John’s gospel along with Peter and Thomas. Martha said to Jesus, “You are the Messiah, the Son of God.” Mary’s faith acts—she kneels at Jesus’ feet and cries. Simultaneous faith and grief. Many verses in the story are given over to grief. Only a couple verses describe the raising of Lazarus.[3] Faith makes space for grief. Some of us know how long those days, hours, and minutes can be while we watch a loved one die. We know the powerlessness, anger, and broken hearts as we wait and watch and pray…as we lose, as grief enshrouds our hearts.

This Bible story about siblings and friends grieving together describes an important truth about people of faith. We make space for grief and we grieve with each other. Just ask our friends who have been through Augustana’s Grief Support Group. Faith in Jesus doesn’t take grief away. Indeed, Jesus’ is greatly disturbed and deeply moved by grief, soul wrenching grief for his friends. And grief maybe even for himself as he knows what’s coming for him and the grief that will bind his friends again when he dies on a cross. The story of Lazarus is as much about Jesus’ humanity as it is about his divinity.

The prophet Ezekiel and his people knew grief, too. 500 years before Jesus, the Babylonians took Ezekiel’s people from southern Israel into far away Babylon. The temple in Jerusalem was God’s dwelling place, but Ezekiel and his people ended up far, far away in a land where their God was not known. They lamented, “Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.” Ezekiel’s valley of the dry bones goes against Jewish burial custom.[4] It was a mass casualty decimation and there was no one to bury them. Another story of grief but this time it’s one of collective grief. A grief that exemplifies our own when faceless groups people are annihilated by war, bombs, and hunger inflicted by politically powerful people who feel neither the suffering of the dying nor the sting of death themselves.

For Mary, Martha, and Ezekiel, faith and grief walked together. Faith made space for their grief for their brother and their community. Faith didn’t erase grief or explain it away as just the way life works. Sometimes we’re inclined to minimize or feel shame about our own grief. It’s too big. It’s too messy. Or we think that if only we had more faith then we would feel less pain. Or if only someone else had more faith, then their grieving wouldn’t hurt our hearts. These Bible stories are an antidote to such thinking. The faithful people in these stories are the ones who are sad, angry, and ugly-crying. Even Jesus. Even Jesus! The English translation of “Jesus began to weep” doesn’t do justice to the Greek word which means soul-wrenching sobs.[5]

Minimizing grief, whether our own or someone else’s is antithetical to the crescendo of the cross and the silence of the tomb that we are edging toward as Palm Sunday and Holy Week loom on the calendar a week from today. We are treated to whispers of Holy Week in our John reading. Mary’s anointing of Jesus’ feet is remembered to us even though we don’t get to that part of the story until the beginning of the next chapter. Anointing is done for divine kings and for the dead. Jesus’ anointing conflates the two. In verse 25, using yet one more divine “I am” saying, Jesus said, “I AM the resurrection and the life.” In verses 4 and 40 Jesus talks about God’s glory in conjunction with the Son of God being glorified.  When the word “glory” is used in the Gospel of John, it is code for Jesus hanging on the cross. We tend to think all kinds of things when we hear the word “glory” but hanging on a cross is not typically one of them.

It’s common to avoid Lent and Holy Week, to go from the Transfiguration straight to Easter buffered by the mini-Easters of Sundays in Lent. Lent is quiet and grey, culminating in Holy Week that is dark and ends in a tomb. Holy Week runs smack up against our addiction to optimism, smack up against our discomfort with grief, and smack up against our desperation not to look at the ever-so-obvious tomb. But sinking into the depths of Holy Week, focusing on cross and tomb feels like freedom. It feels like freedom because it feels true. There IS pain in the world. Sometimes we cause that pain. Sometimes the pain is inflicted on us. Sometimes we watch helplessly as the pain is inflicted on other people. The relief and truth of Holy Week is enormous. Facing this truth head-on, neither looking away from grief nor blocking out God in the midst of it, reveals what God does when confronted with a tomb. Our journey into the abyss of death and grief places in stark relief an ever more vibrant Easter dawn when the trumpets declare victory over death.

In Ezekiel, God breathes into the decimation, restoring the forgotten dead into community. In John, Jesus raises Lazarus reconnecting him with his community. In the tomb of Lazarus, lays a man who’s about to walk again.  Jesus tells him to come out. Lazarus comes out. His disorientation must be staggering. Jesus looks at the people and says, “Unbind him.” These people had a role in his unbinding. Jesus gave them work to do to welcome him.[6] Among the people who unbind Lazarus are surely many who loved him or at least knew him. The moment reveals that “resurrected life needs a community.”[7]

Raising Lazarus is Jesus’ final sign before the execution plot unfolds. A sign of life that declares his divinity and incites his execution. The people are ready to crucify because they fear that the one who brings life might get noticed by the powers that be in Rome and bring death to them all. As Holy Week whispers to us from the faraway place of next week, we pause with the crowd of people who unbind Lazarus. We, like them, wonder about the power that can resurrect. The power that can draw unwanted attention. Lazarus isn’t the only one standing there dazed and disoriented.

As we the people acknowledge the mercy of God, we see the fullness of life that God pours through us as we grieve and celebrate life. We see the Christ, the Word made flesh. We see each other receiving the Spirit who breathes life into our bodies – here, now, today, with these people whom Jesus calls to help unbind us as we are called into resurrected life. Thanks be to God and amen!

__________________________________________________________

[1] Link to IMDB: Harry Potter Movies

[2] Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (2007) – IMDb

[3] Karoline Lewis, Professor of Homiletics, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Lectionary Discussion for 3/22/26. #1074: Fifth Sunday in Lent – March 22, 2026 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[4] Cody J. Sanders, Associate Professor, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Lectionary Discussion for 3/22/26. #1074: Fifth Sunday in Lent – March 22, 2026 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[5] Matt Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Lectionary Discussion for 3/22/26. #1074: Fifth Sunday in Lent – March 22, 2026 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[6] Laura Holmes, Professor of New Testament, Wesley Theological Seminary, Washington D.C. Commentary on John 11:1-45 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[7] Ibid.

Jesus Meets a Woman at a Well—Meet Cute? Auspicious Sign? World Changing?

**Samaritan Woman at the Well by He Qi

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on March 8, 2026

[sermon begins after Bible reading – hang in there, it’s a great story]

John 4:5-42  [Jesus] came to a Samaritan city called Sychar, near the plot of ground that Jacob had given to his son Joseph.6 Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired out by his journey, was sitting by the well. It was about noon.
7 A Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, “Give me a drink.” 8 (His disciples had gone to the city to buy food.) 9 The Samaritan woman said to him, “How is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?” (Jews do not share things in common with Samaritans.) 10 Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.” 11 The woman said to him, “Sir, you have no bucket, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water? 12 Are you greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us the well and with his sons and his flocks drank from it?” 13 Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, 14 but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.” 15 The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.”
16 Jesus said to her, “Go, call your husband, and come back.” 17 The woman answered him, “I have no husband.” Jesus said to her, “You are right in saying, ‘I have no husband,’ 18 for you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said is true!” 19 The woman said to him, “Sir, I see that you are a prophet. 20 Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain, but you say that the place where people must worship is in Jerusalem.” 21 Jesus said to her, “Woman, believe me, the hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. 22 You worship what you do not know; we worship what we know, for salvation is from the Jews. 23 But the hour is coming and is now here when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for the Father seeks such as these to worship him. 24 God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth.” 25 The woman said to him, “I know that Messiah is coming” (who is called Christ). “When he comes, he will proclaim all things to us.” 26 Jesus said to her, “I am he, the one who is speaking to you.”
27 Just then his disciples came. They were astonished that he was speaking with a woman, but no one said, “What do you want?” or, “Why are you speaking with her?” 28 Then the woman left her water jar and went back to the city. She said to the people, 29 “Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he?” 30 They left the city and were on their way to him.
31 Meanwhile the disciples were urging him, “Rabbi, eat something.” 32 But he said to them, “I have food to eat that you do not know about.” 33 So the disciples said to one another, “Surely no one has brought him something to eat?” 34 Jesus said to them, “My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to complete his work. 35 Do you not say, ‘Four months more, then comes the harvest’? But I tell you, look around you, and see how the fields are ripe for harvesting. 36 The reaper is already receiving wages and is gathering fruit for eternal life, so that sower and reaper may rejoice together. 37 For here the saying holds true, ‘One sows and another reaps.’ 38 I sent you to reap that for which you did not labor. Others have labored, and you have entered into their labor.”
39 Many Samaritans from that city believed in him because of the woman’s testimony, “He told me everything I have ever done.” 40 So when the Samaritans came to him, they asked him to stay with them, and he stayed there two days. 41 And many more believed because of his word. 42 They said to the woman, “It is no longer because of what you said that we believe, for we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this is truly the Savior of the world.”

[sermon begins]

In last week’s gospel episode, Nicodemus lurked at night and found Jesus where he was staying. He did not want to be seen by anyone, especially by any of his religious friends, Nic at night brings serious questions to Jesus and leaves confused. This week brings us into the light of day. High noon. In the big heat, Jesus sits down to rest at a well while the disciples go to town to rustle up some lunch. Jesus isn’t sitting by just any old well. This is Jacob’s well. Wells were THE ‘Match.com’ of 2,000 B.C.E.[1]  Jacob and Rachel met by a well in the book of Genesis.[2] Moses and Zipporah met by a well in Exodus.[3] Wells are a place of auspicious beginnings.

No need to get too nervous about where we’re headed with Jesus running into this unnamed Samaritan woman at the well. More than a “meet cute,” it is an auspicious sign that Jesus showed up by a well the way a bridegroom might. It’s auspicious because it’s consistent with language of the Gospel of John. “Jesus assumed the role of bridegroom earlier in the Gospel by providing wine for the wedding at Cana, and John the Baptist identified Jesus as the bridegroom.”[4]

John the Baptist used the bridegroom language right before Jesus walked into Samaria and sat by the well. He said, “The friend of the bridegroom…rejoices greatly at the bridegroom’s voice.” A few verses later the Samaritan woman is at the well at an usual time. Not in the typical cool hours of the morning. At noon. In the heat of the day. Perhaps her first surprise was finding anyone else at the well – followed quickly by the shock at finding herself there with a Jewish man who would speak with her. Note that Jesus doesn’t condemn her. She told him the truth about living with a man, and he added to it with more truth about her marital history. Awkward? Maybe. Regardless, their conversation avoids shame and condemnation while exposing tensions between gender and ethnicity.[5] Their conversation about water from a well reveals centuries of ethnic strife. Their unusual conversation is a beginning.

Showing up at a well at noon was unusual. Jesus met her there. His heady words to Nicodemus last week, about the world being saved through Jesus, go live in the story of the Samaritan woman this week. The words go live in a body, in her body – the body representing the bride. She is a solitary person by a well and unnamed but for her ethnicity as a Samaritan. She represents the world that Jesus was concerned about – a world that separates people into us and them.[6] This woman’s story is perfect for International Women’s Day celebrated every year for decades on March 8th to spotlight and advocate for women around the world.[7] Research supports that when women have equitable access to resources, education, and opportunities, it strengthens economic development and health while stabilizing communities.[8]

In the gospel story, the woman empowered by Jesus is a sign that the wider non-Jewish world IS Jesus’ concern. Jesus is the bridegroom. Jesus is about saving the world now. A tidy theological equation, to be sure, but what do we do with it? How does what Jesus is doing at a well figure into life for world here and now? A world at war with itself in conflicts beyond Iran, Israel, and the United States although that’s one weighing on our hearts and minds, to be sure.

Let’s start closer to home with Augustana. It’s an obvious place to begin. After all, the church is referred to in the Bible as the bride of Christ.[9] And we, as a worshipping community here this morning, are part of Christ’s church catholic, Christ’s whole universal church. What might Jesus the bridegroom, sitting with us at this very moment, have to say about us? How do we, the worshipping community of Augustana, live into what Jesus already knows about us? Sent into the city to talk with people like the Samaritan woman does. Leaving her water jar behind, she tells the people of the city, “Come and see a man who told me everything I have ever done! He cannot be the Messiah, can he?”

A few days ago, 25 of us from Augustana responded to the invitation from Multicultural Mosaic Foundation to attend their iftar as they broke their daily Ramadan fast with prayer and dinner. We’re grateful for their warm hospitality and gracious invitation to get to know each other, to learn, to ask questions, and to observe prayers. Pastor Michael and Dr. Bora presented about Lent and Ramadan as both began on the same day this year.[10] A tremendous evening of connection and respectful dialogue between Muslim and Christian neighbors. These interactions have awkward moments, but they are also world-changing building blocks. They take time and intention. They are a sign of what’s possible.

Like the woman talking with Jesus at the well, Sunday can feel like a place of relief and amazement. A place to tell the truth about ourselves and to hear the truth told about us. A place to simply be with the words of our confession. The confession of what we have done and left undone. But also the other meaning of confession which is remembering God’s promises to us and our trust in those promises. This is a place of living water and truth telling.

And, like the Samaritan woman, we head back into the city holding a sliver of doubt once the conversation happens here with Jesus. She says to the people, “He cannot be the Messiah, can he?” She takes her encounter with Jesus out for a spin, carrying her doubt right alongside of it, and invites people to wonder about Jesus with her. Embedded in the Samaritan woman’s invitation and question is an antidote to the 21st century culture that is poisoned by absolutism, anger, and judgment.

We are in a world, right now, that is suffering under absolutes. Conversation, common ground, connecting points are few and far between. The way in which we take our faith out for a spin from this sanctuary matters. THAT we take it out for a spin matters too. Our invitation may connect with others who need a place to wonder about the hope found in Jesus – a hope that does not disappoint.[11] People are scared and people are suffering. This is the world that Jesus came to save today. Right now.

Jesus did not come into the world to condemn it. Jesus came to save the world – to restore our relationship with God and with each other. Jesus did not come into the world to condemn you. Jesus came to save you – to restore your relationship with God, with the person next to you, and the with the person around the world from you. Let Jesus tell the truth about you here and be drawn into the unexpected moments of what happens next.

___________________________________________________

[1] Match.com is a dating website where people meet-and-greet each other online.

[2] Genesis 29:1-12

[3] Exodus 2:15-22

[4] John 2:1-11 and John 3:29 respectively.

Craig R. Koester. Symbolism in the Fourth Gospel: Meaning, Mystery, Community (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2003), 48.

[5] Reverend Ron Roshke, retired ELCA pastor in Denver, Third Sunday in Lent. March 8 2026. 2026_03_08Lent3A.pdf

[6] Koester, 48.

[7] Nicole Minkas. The role of participation and community mobilisation in preventing violence against women and girls: a programme review and critique. June 26, 2020. pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC8904729/

[8] Q&A Series #5: When Women Do Better, Countries Do Better – United States Department of State, 11/22/2017.

[9] Revelation 19:7-9; Ephesians 5:25-27.  See more at: http://www.openbible.info/topics/the_bride_of_christ

[10] Sacred Seasons of Reflection: Lent and Ramadan in Dialogue – Multicultural Mosaic Foundation. March 5, 2026.

[11] Romans 5:1-11

The Imperfect Ideal in Community [OR God’s Call into Risk and Possibility]

**sermon art: The Temptations of Christ, 12th century mosaic at St Mark s Basilica, Venice.

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on February 22, 2026

[sermon begins after two Bible readings; Romans and Psalm 32 are at the end of the post]

Genesis 2:15-17 & 3:1-7 The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to till it and keep it. 16 And the Lord God commanded the man, “You may freely eat of every tree of the garden, 17 but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall die.”
3:1 Now the serpent was more crafty than any other wild animal that the Lord God had made. He said to the woman, “Did God say, ‘You shall not eat from any tree in the garden’?” 2 The woman said to the serpent, “We may eat of the fruit of the trees in the garden, 3 but God said, ‘You shall not eat of the fruit of the tree that is in the middle of the garden, nor shall you touch it, or you shall die.’ ” 4 But the serpent said to the woman, “You will not die, 5 for God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” 6 So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food and that it was a delight to the eyes and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate. 7 Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked, and they sewed fig leaves together and made loincloths for themselves.

Matthew 4:1-11 Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tested by the devil. 2 He fasted forty days and forty nights, and afterward he was famished. 3 The tempter came and said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become loaves of bread.” 4 But he answered, “It is written,
‘One does not live by bread alone,
but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.’ ”
5 Then the devil took him to the holy city and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, 6 saying to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down, for it is written,
‘He will command his angels concerning you,’
and ‘On their hands they will bear you up,
so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’ ”
7 Jesus said to him, “Again it is written, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’ ”
8 Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory, 9 and he said to him, “All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.” 10 Then Jesus said to him, “Away with you, Satan! for it is written,
‘Worship the Lord your God,
and serve only him.’ ”
11 Then the devil left him, and suddenly angels came and waited on him.

[sermon begins]

Hanging out with babies and toddlers is a lot about love while saving them from themselves and what they don’t yet know. We watch them like mama bears when we’re with them and we limit their movement with gates and play yards when our attention is elsewhere. Trouble happens even with these safeguards and boundaries. Those moments stick with you. My mind’s eye still sees their big tumble off of a chair and down the stairs when our kids were very small. Tumbles taken under my watch. As they grew older, I started trying to safeguard them with words like, “Be safe, have fun, and use your power for good!” That encouragement was sometimes met with an eyeroll, but our son had a lifelong friend that started to answer me in a different way when they became teenagers. I’d say, “Be safe, have fun, and use your power for good.” And he’d reply, with his first finger pointing up in the air, “And not for evil,” before dashing out the door into teenaged life. Most of us are right there with him, avoiding evil with enthusiasm, establishing boundaries that we think we’ll keep.

Boundaries are a good way to think about the man and the woman in the garden in the book of Genesis. God gives them the garden for their flourishing. The garden was a boundary. Stay here. Be alive. And the garden contained a boundary. Eat from all the other trees but do not eat from THAT one. When they ate from it, they learned more than the knowledge of good and evil. They learned how to use it for themselves, to manipulate it for their own protection and advantage.[1] First, they breached the tree’s boundary. And then they tried to cover up who they were and what they’d done.

Albeit a cover up, the story of the man and woman in the garden does not use the language of sin. It’s Paul’s letter to the Romans that interprets their garden story through the cross with language of trespass and sin. I’m partial to the language of trespass in the story about the garden. Trespass conveys the man and woman’s breach of boundaries to eat from the tree. They trespassed where they didn’t belong and were specifically told by God not to go. The language of trespass adds dimension to sin by describing the movement of it. It’s our movement, our trespass against the humanity of others and the humanity in ourselves that reveals the distortion of God’s image. From this break with God comes all of our relational sins against God, each other, and our selves. Broken away from God’s image, we think we need to seek perfection. But we are in need of what only God can do – something we cannot do for ourselves.[2]

So God takes action. In skin and solidarity, God moved into the world in Jesus and ended up hung on a cross. Paul, in our reading from Romans this morning, uses all kinds of words to describe God’s movement in Jesus Christ – free gift, grace, justification, made righteous. Each of these words conveys that the burden is on God to mend the break, to atone on our behalf.

Whether we name humanity’s inherent flaw as trespasses or sin, it is on God and God’s promises to atone, to bring together, to reconcile, that which is broken between us and God. Baptized into Christ’s death and resurrection, we are baptized into the body of Christ in the form of this congregation. Over time, we remind each other of God’s intervention on our behalf. The language of sin and trespass are honesty and kindness to ourselves and each other.[3] A kindness that relieves us from the self-perfection project. A kindness that creates space for forgiving other people of their non-perfection and forgiving ourselves for our own.[4] Listen to Psalm 32 for a word of hope as honesty opens us to God.

Sinners need something that God can give – and God gives it…

“Happy are those whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered.” [Psalm 32:1]

Sinners, through the cross, are given a way to tell the truth about falling short…

“Happy are those to whom the Lord imputes no iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no deceit.” [Psalm 32:2]

Sinners know that not telling this truth about themselves is exhausting…

“While I kept silence, my body wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer.”  [Psalm 32:3-4]

Sinners talk to God…trusting in God’s forgiveness…

“Then I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not hide my iniquity; I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the Lord,” and you forgave the guilt of my sin.” [Psalm 32:5]

Sinners encourage each other to talk to God…

“Therefore let all who are faithful offer prayer to you.” [Psalm 32:6]

And through it all, sinners get together to remind each other of God’s promises…

“Be glad in the Lord and rejoice, O righteous, and shout for joy, all you upright in heart.” [Psalm 32:11].

“Rejoice” is an odd biblical command that doesn’t translate well in our everyday lives. We know the feeling of joy as a spontaneous reaction, not one we dreg up from inside ourselves. Like the joy we feel when we watch Olympians unify the world in a shared spirit of human triumph. Or, closer to home, the joy we feel when we come together to tend to our church home with resounding generosity with our Welcome 150 capital campaign that sparkles with welcome, enthusiasm, faith, and renewal. Our joy is the opposite of trespassing against each other when so many different people are working together towards a shared future in the gospel. Rejoicing as much about our connections with God, each other, and our community as we delight in experiencing what’s possible when we’re inspired by God’s mission for us. Rejoicing even as we confess our trespasses against each other because Jesus calls us to forgiveness, not perfection.

Jesus’ 40 day fast in the wilderness emphasizes God’s call into risk and possibility without romanticizing the power of this world and or capitulating to the forces that defy God. In the wilderness, Jesus is tempted with power that can actually be used for good. His ministry will look like some of those very things as he heals and feeds with divine power, but he will do so committed to God’s call into self-giving ministry.[5] The same Jesus who was tended to by angels in the wilderness will process into Jerusalem and will be crucified for his ministry of divine love. Pay attention in the coming weeks to how Jesus embodies divine power and to what end.[6] While he came to fulfill the law and the prophets, he did not come to bring perfection to the masses.[7] He came to save us from ourselves but not necessarily to keep us safe or make us perfect.

We may wish that perfection was possible and try to hold each other to it. But instead, we’re given an utterly imperfect ideal called the church. As church we’re not given a path to an original perfection of what we think humanity may have been back then.[8] We’re given the challenge and comfort of community as we are now to remind each other of God’s promises moving with us into the future. In Lent, we seek to begin anew by the power of the One who is with us whether our moment reflects the sweetness of life, the suffering of betrayal by our bodies, the pain of trespass against us, the darkness and confusion of the tomb, or the joy of transformation. In these 40 days of Lent, “Be glad in the Lord and rejoice!”[9] Amen.

______________________________________________________

[1] Matthew Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Discussion about the lectionary readings for 2/22/26. #1070: First Sunday in Lent – February 22, 2026 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[2] Craig R. Koester, The Word of Life: A Theology of John’s Gospel (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008), 114.

[3] Giles Fraser, “Secular Lent is a Pale Imitation of the Real Thing…I Want Nothing to Do With It.”  The Guardian on March 7, 2014.  http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/belief/2014/mar/07/secular-lent-pale-imitation-real-thing?CMP=twt_gu

[4] Ibid. Giles Fraser quoting: Marilynne Robison in The Death of Adam: Essays on Modern Thought (New York: Mariner Books, 1998), 156.

[5] Skinner, Ibid.

[6] Ibid.

[7] Matthew 5:17-18

[8] Valerie Bridgeman, Dean and Vice President of Academic Affairs; Associate Professor of Homiletics and Hebrew Bible, Methodist Theological School in Ohio Delaware, Ohio. Lectionary readings for 2/22/26: Commentary on Genesis 2:15-17; 3:1-7 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary.

[9] Psalm 32:11

________________________________________________

Romans 5:12-19 Just as sin came into the world through one man, and death came through sin, and so death spread to all because all have sinned 13 for sin was indeed in the world before the law, but sin is not reckoned when there is no law. 14 Yet death reigned from Adam to Moses, even over those who did not sin in the likeness of Adam, who is a pattern of the one who was to come.
15 But the free gift is not like the trespass. For if the many died through the one man’s trespass, much more surely have the grace of God and the gift in the grace of the one man, Jesus Christ, abounded for the many. 16 And the gift is not like the effect of the one man’s sin. For the judgment following one trespass brought condemnation, but the gift following many trespasses brings justification. 17 If, because of the one man’s trespass, death reigned through that one, much more surely will those who receive the abundance of grace and the gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man, Jesus Christ.
18 Therefore just as one man’s trespass led to condemnation for all, so one man’s act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all. 19 For just as through the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so through the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous.

Psalm 32

Happy are they whose transgressions | are forgiven,
and whose sin is | put away!
2Happy are they to whom the Lord im- | putes no guilt,
and in whose spirit there | is no guile!
3 While I held my tongue, my bones with- | ered away,
because of my groaning | all day long.
4For your hand was heavy upon me | day and night;
my moisture was dried up as in the | heat of summer. 
5 Then I acknowledged my sin to you, and did not con- | ceal my guilt.
I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the Lord.” Then you forgave me the guilt | of my sin.
6Therefore all the faithful will make their prayers to you in | time of trouble;
when the great waters overflow, they | shall not reach them.
7 You are my hiding-place; you preserve | me from trouble;
you surround me with shouts | of deliverance.
8“I will instruct you and teach you in the way that | you should go;
I will guide you | with my eye. 
9 Do not be like horse or mule, which have no | understanding;
who must be fitted with bit and bridle, or else they will | not stay near you.”
10Great are the tribulations | of the wicked;
but mercy embraces those who trust | in the Lord.
11 Be glad, you righteous, and rejoice | in the Lord;
shout for joy, all who are | true of heart. 

What if We Want to Give an Inch? [OR Be Salty & Shiny (Not That Kind of Salty[1])]

**sermon art: Felicia Bond, Illustrator for the book, “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie” by Laura Joffe Numeroff, 2011.

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church, Denver, February 8, 2026

[sermon begins after the Bible reading; there are two more Bible readings from Isaiah and 1 Corinthains at the end of the sermon.]

Matthew 5:13-20  [Jesus said:] 13 “You are the salt of the earth, but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything but is thrown out and trampled under foot.
14 “You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. 15 People do not light a lamp and put it under the bushel basket; rather, they put it on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. 16 In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.

17 “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. 18 For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished. 19 Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. 20 For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

[sermon begins]

If you give a mouse a cookie, what’s he going to do?[2] … … … Riiight, he’s going to ask for a glass of milk. And if you give him a glass of milk? … … …yup, he’ll ask for a napkin and a straw to avoid a milk moustache. This cheeky children’s book imagines a generous child being led by a mouse’s expanding list of needs illustrating the adage, “If you give them an inch, they’ll take a mile.” It’s a caution about not giving that inch. But what if we want to give an inch?[3] Or, what if we don’t want to give that inch but that’s what’s in front of us to do? And if it’s in front of us to do, are we inclined to talk ourselves out of who Jesus says we are so that we don’t have to do it?

Jesus says that his followers are salt and light. We are salt and light. We are simply salt and light that reveals Emmanuel, God with us. Not to prove anything but to be something. Salt makes the world a better place. Salt becomes obvious when it’s missing. Salt, when applied properly, works with food to make it better.[4] Light is similar. Light brightens what already exists to help us perceive the world around us.[5]

When Jesus calls his followers “salt” and “light,” he is calling them “salt” and “light” as a group. We’ve talked before about how our Southern friends do better translating the Greek plural “you,” as in “y’all,” or “all y’all” for emphasis. As the stepdaughter of a southerner, it was used regularly in our home. Here’s a quick example. Continuous with the Bible reading from last Sunday on the Beatitudes to today’s reading, we hear Jesus say to his disciples:

All y’all are the salt of the earth…all y’all are the light of the world…let all y’all’s light so shine before others that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.” [Matthew 5:13-14, 16]

Notice that Jesus isn’t telling them what to do. He’s describing something, not prescribing it.[6] Jesus is telling them what they already are – salt and light. There were no refrigerators in the first century. Salt preserved meat to be eaten later. AND salt made life better. Jesus calls you salty. The good kind of salty that brightens experiences and preserves life. Jesus is taking liberties as a preacher. It’s completely unscientific for salt to lose its saltiness just like no one would hide a flame under a bushel basket because the basket would burst into flames.[7] While the metaphors are comedic, Jesus means don’t hide your light. Let your light shine and, in doing so, the good works that come from the light will point to God. It’s a subtle point but it’s an important one.

We talk in Lutheran Christian circles about God’s movement to us. God showing up in Jesus. We don’t build a ladder to God. God brings God’s self to us. When we hear this, more than a few of us might be thinking, “Huh, I don’t think I’m salt and light, God must have missed me with the saltshaker because I can be a real jerk.” This may be good news for you because of course we can be jerks. But God calls us back by our baptisms, over and over, to remind us that we are salt and light and that we are free to be salt and light. We, the church, all y’all, are salt and light together. Being salt and light is a group experience that leads to group projects. The church word for group projects is ministry. We work together to figure out what ministry looks like, who we advocate with, and how we spend our time. Ministry can get bogged down in fear or worry about being taken advantage of, about giving an inch and someone taking a mile.

That’s why Jesus’ speech about the law and commandments follow the salt and light comments. Not as a way to lord righteousness over our neighbors or as a performance to get their attention. [8] Rather, commandments are given to us as a way to live well with our neighbors, to be who God says we are in relationship with our neighbors. To give that inch. Inches become miles as we live into the law as salt and light, preserving life and brightening experience.

The Gospel of Matthew can be tricky because it appears that there was stress within the 1st century Matthean community between Jews and Jewish Christians. As we continue this year’s journey through the Gospel of Matthew, it matters how we talk and think about our Jewish cousins in the faith. Some readings like ours today are an example of that 1st century stress and can be misconstrued to be anti-Jew or anti-law, as if somehow Jesus found the Jewish tradition lacking and in need of an overhaul.[9] The verses about following the law connect Jesus’ teaching with Moses as an expansion of the covenant.[10] The expression, “cousins in the faith” acknowledges that both Christianity and Rabbinic Judaism grew like branches from the trunk of the Hebrew Bible that Christians call the Old Testament. Rabbinic Judaism grew like one branch while Christianity grew like another branch at about the same time during the 1st century.[11]

Long before rabbinic Judaism, the prophet Isaiah said that feeding the hungry, covering the naked, and loosening the bonds of injustice by freeing the oppressed shall break forth your light like the dawn. At the time Isaiah wrote this, Jerusalem was a mess as returning exiles tried to rebuild society with those who were already there.[12] There was cynicism and power grabs. Isaiah’s admonition was to be open-hearted and generous, to rebuild the ruins and make the city a safe place to live for everyone.[13] The prophets had long challenged our Jewish cousins in the faith to live into their God-given light-filled dawn. It’s what the biblical prophets were all about. This is the justice to which God calls us. Feeding, clothing, and freeing. Giving an inch like we’re doing on Undie Sunday with personal care kits for refugees and collecting underwear and socks for children. Small inches that become miles.

“All ya’ll are salt and light,” Jesus said. Together as the church, we dip back into this baptismal promise on a daily, sometimes minute-to-minute, basis–resting not on human wisdom but on the power of God made vulnerable in Christ Jesus and him crucified.[14] Salt does not exist for itself, it enhances other things.[15] The gospel is personal, but not private. It is individual, but not individualistic. There are dark nights of the soul and body when individual faith is sustaining. But faith unified in the church is for the sake of the world.

In a minute we’ll sing, “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.” We sing it together even though we say, “mine.” It’s a together thing because it gets at what Jesus announces to his disciples. We are public followers who shine, we don’t tuck faith away.[16] We are a people infused with the characteristics of God—gracious and merciful.[17] We don’t claim perfection. We point to the One who is with us.

The light of Christ shining through the cross is not permission to do whatever we want when we want. Being salty and shiny moves us by inches that add up to miles. Christ’s light shines the transforming power of faith through our congregation, through all y’all, as we let our lights shine.

Thanks be to God and amen.

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[1] “Salty” is a word used as urban slang to mean bitter or upset. https://knowyourmeme.com/memes/salty#:~:text=According%20to%20the%20Online%20Etymology%20Dictionary%2C%20the%20U.S.,as%20%22looking%20stupid%E2%80%A6%20because%20of%20something%20you%20did%22.

[2] Laura Numeroff, If You Give a Mouse a Cookie (New York City: Scholastic, 2011).

[3] Taryn Trussell, personal conversation and art montage of the question made of wood, cloth, and metal, 2026. What if I want to give an inch?

[4] Melanie A. Howard, Associate Professor and Program Director of Biblical and Theological Studies, Fresno Pacific University, CA. Commentary on Matthew 5:13-20 for Workingpreacher.org. https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/fifth-sunday-after-epiphany/commentary-on-matthew-513-20-5

[5] Ibid.

[6] Howard, Ibid.

[7] Rolf Jacobson, Professor of Old Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Podcast on the lectionary readings for February 8, 2026. #1067: Fifth Sunday after Epiphany – February 8, 2026 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[8] Ibid.

[9] Howard, Ibid.

[10] Ibid.

[11] Rabbi Brian Field, Denver, CO. Founding and Former Rabbi of Judaism Your Way.

[12] Matt Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Podcast on the lectionary readings for February 8, 2026. #1067: Fifth Sunday after Epiphany – February 8, 2026 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[13] Ibid.

[14] 1 Corinthians 2:1-2

[15] Karoline Lewish, Professor of Preaching, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Podcast on the lectionary readings for February 8, 2026. #1067: Fifth Sunday after Epiphany – February 8, 2026 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[16] Jacobson, Ibid.

[17] Lewis, Ibid.

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Isaiah 58:1-12

Shout out; do not hold back!
Lift up your voice like a trumpet!
Announce to my people their rebellion,
to the house of Jacob their sins.
2 Yet day after day they seek me
and delight to know my ways,
as if they were a nation that practiced righteousness
and did not forsake the ordinance of their God;
they ask of me righteous judgments;
they want God on their side.
3 “Why do we fast, but you do not see?
Why humble ourselves, but you do not notice?”
Look, you serve your own interest on your fast day
and oppress all your workers.
4 You fast only to quarrel and to fight
and to strike with a wicked fist.
Such fasting as you do today
will not make your voice heard on high.
5 Is such the fast that I choose,
a day to humble oneself?
Is it to bow down the head like a bulrush
and to lie in sackcloth and ashes?
Will you call this a fast,
a day acceptable to the Lord?

6 Is not this the fast that I choose:
to loose the bonds of injustice,
to undo the straps of the yoke,
to let the oppressed go free,
and to break every yoke?
7 Is it not to share your bread with the hungry
and bring the homeless poor into your house;
when you see the naked, to cover them
and not to hide yourself from your own kin?
8 Then your light shall break forth like the dawn,
and your healing shall spring up quickly;
your vindicator shall go before you;
the glory of the Lord shall be your rear guard.
9a Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer;
you shall cry for help, and he will say, “Here I am.”
[

9b If you remove the yoke from among you,
the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil,
10 if you offer your food to the hungry
and satisfy the needs of the afflicted,
then your light shall rise in the darkness
and your gloom be like the noonday.
11 The Lord will guide you continually
and satisfy your needs in parched places
and make your bones strong,
and you shall be like a watered garden,
like a spring of water
whose waters never fail.
12 Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt;
you shall raise up the foundations of many generations;
you shall be called the repairer of the breach,
the restorer of streets to live in.

1 Corinthians 2:1-12 When I came to you, brothers and sisters, I did not come proclaiming the testimony of God to you with superior speech or wisdom. 2 For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. 3 And I came to you in weakness and in fear and in much trembling. 4 My speech and my proclamation were made not with persuasive words of wisdom but with a demonstration of the Spirit and of power, 5 so that your faith might rest not on human wisdom but on the power of God.

6 Yet among the mature we do speak wisdom, though it is not a wisdom of this age or of the rulers of this age, who are being destroyed. 7 But we speak God’s wisdom, a hidden mystery, which God decreed before the ages for our glory 8 and which none of the rulers of this age understood, for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory. 9 But, as it is written,
“What no eye has seen, nor ear heard,
nor the human heart conceived,
what God has prepared for those who love him”—
10 God has revealed to us through the Spirit, for the Spirit searches everything, even the depths of God. 11 For what human knows what is truly human except the human spirit that is within? So also no one comprehends what is truly God’s except the Spirit of God. 12 Now we have received not the spirit of the world but the Spirit that is from God, so that we may understand the gifts bestowed on us by God.

A Third Way in a Mad World

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on January 25, 2026

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

Matthew 4:12-23 Now when Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee. 13 He left Nazareth and made his home in Capernaum by the sea, in the territory of Zebulun and Naphtali, 14 so that what had been spoken through the prophet Isaiah might be fulfilled:
15 “Land of Zebulun, land of Naphtali,
on the road by the sea, across the Jordan, Galilee of the gentiles
16 the people who sat in darkness
have seen a great light,
and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death
light has dawned.”
17 From that time Jesus began to proclaim, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”
18 As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea—for they were fishers. 19 And he said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of people.” 20 Immediately they left their nets and followed him. 21 As he went from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John, in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them. 22 Immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him.
23 Jesus went throughout all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness among the people.

Isaiah 9:1-4There will be no gloom for those who were in anguish. In the former time [the Lord] brought into contempt the land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali, but in the latter time he will make glorious the way of the sea, the land beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the nations.
2 The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light;
those who lived in a land of deep darkness—
on them light has shined.
3 You have multiplied exultation;
you have increased its joy;
they rejoice before you
as with joy at the harvest,
as people exult when dividing plunder.
4 For the yoke of their burden
and the bar across their shoulders,
the rod of their oppressor,
you have broken as on the day of Midian.

[sermon begins]

Last week at my gym, the question of the day was, “What is a skill you have and the aha moment that took it to the next level?” My skill was caramelizing onions. The aha moment was that caramelizing onions will NOT be rushed. They just take time and tending. Don’t believe those five-minute recipes. Once I got my head around the time they take, yum. Time I’m willing to take because I love to cook. And time I’m willing to take because there was a time in recent years when cooking the things I love to eat wasn’t available to me. The sensuality of cooking manifests in taste, touch, smell, and sounds. And the artistry of it shows in colors, textures, and layers. Combining edible things into more than the sum of their parts reminds me that the world is an enchanted place. An enchanted place that sustains our bodies with all that we need. Wouldn’t it be nice if the world worked the way that cooking does? A list of ingredients, combined in just the right way at the right time and temperature, blend to sensually and artistically nourish life. Alas. The tragedy is that we keep returning to the same tricks to turn the world in our favor.

In our reading from Matthew, Jesus’ ministry begins after John was arrested. We’re given no details about John’s arrest but it’s a really big, ultimately deadly deal. John didn’t survive his imprisonment. Remarkably, Jesus used the same words that John used to inaugurate his ministry, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” That’s a bold move by Jesus given that the one who had been saying those words was now in the custody of Herod Antipas, the ruler of Galilee who also answered to Rome. Jesus repeating John’s proclamation isn’t less risky because it’s already been said. Jesus’ risk increased because he knowingly connects his message with John’s.

More than just turning away from bad things, repent in the Bible means to be of a new mind.[1] Herod Antipas wasn’t a fan of new perspectives. He liked his own ideas, thank you very much. Hence, John’s arrest. Jesus didn’t let that slow him down. If fact, he doubled down on repentance and the kingdom of heaven coming near in light of the abiding promise quoted from Isaiah:

The people who sat in darkness
have seen a great light,
and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death
light has dawned.

Matthew quoted the Isaiah reading that we heard today, too. Isaiah was a prophet when the Northern Kingdom of Israel was invaded by the Assyrians under the reign of Tiglath-Pileser III. Into this dark time, Isaiah prophesied about God’s presence and abiding promise in that moment and into the future. A future that introduces a third way, a way of joy and exultation and a new light dawning.

In Matthew, Jesus’ ministry reveals this dawning light by calling people to a new mind. I can’t express just how much his call means to me as someone who grew up in a fundamentalist Christian tradition. Due to that upbringing, I resist fundamentalism in all its forms. Fundamentalism is any religious movement that advocates strict conformity.[2] I would tweak that slightly to say that any movement can develop a religious fervor that advocates strict conformity and creates fear.

A few weeks ago, it was my turn in Children’s Chapel with the Augustana Early Learning Center kiddos. The celebration of Epiphany about the wise men who followed a star to see the sweet little Jesus had just passed, so I read them the story from the Spark Bible that are in our pews. We talked about camels, and the star, and the scary King Herod (Herod Antipas’ dad) who was afraid of what a newborn king would mean. When I read to the kids that King Herod was afraid, a few of the kids said and repeated, “I’m never afraid!” As a former nurse, I paused the story to talk about fear and that we all feel afraid sometimes. I taught them that there’s a small part of the brain in our heads called the amygdala and that we can feel afraid before we even know what’s happening. And when we feel afraid it’s really important to find someone to talk to, to say we’re afraid, and to have them help us calm our bodies down. Then we continued with the Bible story, sang the Hippo Song at top speed, and ended our chapel time sitting with our eyes closed while I led us in taking 10 deep breaths. I count out loud. Breathe in one…breathe out. Breathe in two…breathe out. Their lungs are smaller than mine, so I try to pace that for them.  And then we prayed.

I tell that story in depth because we have some of those kids and their families joining us for preschool Sunday today. But also because we’re in a time in our country that stirs up fear and where there is fear there is fundamentalism. And fundamentalism draws hard lines between worthy people and unworthy people, makes us afraid of them, and makes it easier to hate them. After cancer and remission a few years ago, I cannot hold hate in my body. I won’t do it. That’s not to say that I don’t get scared or frustrated or even angry. But hate doesn’t solve anything and my body can’t sustain it. Hate is a choice and a behavior much like love is a choice and a behavior.

In a sermon titled “The Most Durable Power,” Reverend Doctor King preached against this very thing. He said, “Let no man pull you so low as to hate him.”[3] Let no man pull you so low as to hate him. Reverend King went on to argue that love doesn’t attempt to defeat and humiliate but to bring justice for all, the oppressed and the oppressor. A new way of living together. Dare we say a third way in our mad world.

Just as Jesus went through Galilee proclaiming a new mind, he also reached out in mercy, “curing every disease and every sickness among the people.” This wasn’t just a nice thing to do. We’ll see throughout the gospel of Matthew that mercy and wholeness are an essential part of Jesus’ message. We’ll hear it next week as he begins preaching the Sermon on the Mount in chapter 5. He’ll preach about life lived in opposition to the things that bring suffering and death.[4]

Paul’s first letter to the Corithian church touches on the third way. Thank God for that first century church in Corinth. Their disunity and factionalism meant that Paul had to write to them and in Paul’s writing we’re privy to the early church’s teachings.[5] He doesn’t shame the congregation in Corinth or lecture them to be nice. He preaches about the cross and the different kind of community that’s possible because the cross is the great leveler. In that community, in that world view, power and might are not the way forward. Love is the way forward. Love is the most durable power.

Jesus invites people to follow him in this Way of love. He doesn’t conscript people by force and fear to wage a war against his opponents. In fact, it’s the opposite. He invites people into the ministry of mercy that he began in Galilee of the gentiles. He invites us to follow his third way in a mad world. To follow him in love and see where it leads. Thanks be to God. And amen.

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[1] Metanoia is the Greek word. Literally “a new mind.” #1065: Third Sunday after Epiphany – January 25, 2026 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[2] Britannica

[3] Martin Luther King Jr. “The Most Durable Power,” Excerpt from Rev. Dr. King’s Sermon at Dexter Avenue Baptist Church on 6 November 1956. “The Most Durable Power,” Excerpt from Sermon at Dexter Avenue Baptist Church on 6 November 1956 | The Martin Luther King, Jr. Research and Education Institute

[4] Matt Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Sermon Brainwave podcast.#1065: Third Sunday after Epiphany – January 25, 2026 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[5] Ibid.

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1 Corinthians 1:10-18 Now I appeal to you, brothers and sisters, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you be in agreement and that there be no divisions among you but that you be knit together in the same mind and the same purpose. 11 For it has been made clear to me by Chloe’s people that there are quarrels among you, my brothers and sisters. 12 What I mean is that each of you says, “I belong to Paul,” or “I belong to Apollos,” or “I belong to Cephas,” or “I belong to Christ.” 13 Has Christ been divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Or were you baptized in the name of Paul? 14 I thank God that I baptized none of you except Crispus and Gaius, 15 so that no one can say that you were baptized in my name. 16 I did baptize also the household of Stephanas; beyond that, I do not know whether I baptized anyone else. 17 For Christ did not send me to baptize but to proclaim the gospel—and not with eloquent wisdom, so that the cross of Christ might not be emptied of its power.
18 For the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God.

Pastor, Preacher, Speaker