Monthly Archives: August 2026

Preaching, Sermons

Hard to Love, Harder to Learn [OR Dogs’ Guidance to Holy Land Blind Spots]

Pastor Caitlin Trussell, Augustana Lutheran Church, Denver—8/14/2026

[sermon begins after two Bible readings]

Matthew 15:21-28 Jesus left that place and went away to the district of Tyre and Sidon. 22 Just then a Canaanite woman from that region came out and started shouting, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon.” 23 But he did not answer her at all. And his disciples came and urged him, saying, “Send her away, for she keeps shouting after us.” 24 He answered, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” 25 But she came and knelt before him, saying, “Lord, help me.” 26 He answered, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” 27 She said, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” 28 Then Jesus answered her, “Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish.” And her daughter was healed from that moment.

Romans 11:1-2a, 29-32 [Paul writes:] 1 I ask, then, has God rejected his people? By no means! I myself am an Israelite, a descendant of Abraham, a member of the tribe of Benjamin. 2a God has not rejected his people whom he foreknew.
29 For the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable. 30 Just as you were once disobedient to God but have now received mercy because of their disobedience, 31 so also they have now been disobedient in order that, by the mercy shown to you, they also may now receive mercy. 32 For God has imprisoned all in disobedience so that he may be merciful to all.

[sermon begins]

One of the things that I’m most grateful for in my education to become a pastor is the individual counseling required by my seminary. Eight sessions had to be completed during our first year. Those eight sessions gave me a chance to name my family’s complicated story and where I fit in it, and to lighten the baggage I was carrying that was helpful to name before setting that bag down in a pastor’s office. Not long after I started my first call with Augustana, I thought it would be helpful to do more work on my blind spots. I knew a little about family systems theory, jumped online with the Bowen Center in Washington D.C., and found a local leadership coach near the church who’s been coaching me every couple of months ever since.[1]

One of the counseling hurdles after being raised in two wildly different Christian churches and having three dads in my life was figuring out what love meant to me. God’s love. Family love. People love. Self-love. Neighbor love. I wrestled with who was worthy of love including myself. It’s part of the reason being a Lutheran preacher is so compelling. We often talk about grace and grace is all about unconditional love, God’s unconditional love for you, for me, and for the world.

The human problem with understanding and receiving unconditional love is that we often experience love as conditional. Heck, all you have to do is spend two minutes in almost any family system, institutional system, or any time at all in social media to hear those conditions on love loud and clear. What’s not expected, is hearing conditions on love from Jesus responding to the shouting Canaanite woman.

We’re used to Jesus taking the higher ground. Here, he goes low, under the table low. His guys want Jesus to send the woman away for all the noise she’s making. Jesus doesn’t send her away though. He talks to her. More than talks, he blows up the conversation by calling her a dog. Some theologians think Jesus is learning something in his conversation with the woman. He was, after all, fully divine AND fully human. And humans learn. Arguably we don’t usually learn lessons quickly even with good coaching, especially lessons that reveal our blind spots. Perhaps we could applaud Jesus for his quick learning. Regardless, this is an uncomfortable story of encountering Jesus finding it harder to learn in a hard to love moment.

The Canaanite woman called Jesus “Lord” and “Son of David.” She knew the lingo, maybe she knew the rest of his genealogy too. It’s possible she had heard about the Canaanites in Jesus’ family tree listed in Matthew’s opening chapter to the gospel – Rahab the courageous prostitute, Tamar the righteous trickster, and Ruth the loyal daughter-in-law and great-grandmother to King David.[2] [3] Or perhaps Jesus had a physical feature that identified the Canaanite blood that also flowed in his veins through his family tree. Maybe she took one look at him and immediately knew they shared Canaanite blood.[4]

We’ll never know whether she knew but it’s possible that that she did and it’s possible that Jesus knew about the non-Jew, Canaanite women in his genealogy. Jewish heredity follows the mother because mothers are obvious, pregnant links. Regardless, this is when Jesus’ ministry expands to include non-Jews. Up to now, he’s instructed his disciples to stay within certain Jewish boundaries. Now they’re in Tyre and Sidon, north of Galilee and way north of Jerusalem, getting shouted at and possibly feeling a little defeated after all they’ve been through. First John the Baptist was executed by Herod. Then they fed over 5,000 hungry men, women, and children who were also on the move after John’s death. Then they spent a terrifying night on a boat at sea in a storm before debarking in Gennesaret to trek further north to Tyre and Sidon where they’re shouted at in welcome.

Breadcrumbs from feeding thousands could still be embedded in Jesus’ clothes while the Canaanite woman shouted. When she knelt before Jesus, she said, “Lord, help me.” He answered, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” Jesus’ comment vexes the faithful in every age including ours.

Jews didn’t historically keep or love dogs the way that their Greek and Roman counterparts did.[5] In antiquity, dogs were found in the households of all classes of people and were a symbol of loyalty in art and literature.[6]  Jesus’ dog accusation was flipped by the Canaanite woman who likely had a love of dogs much like dog lovers in our 21st century households.[7] Dogs in her town were fed under the table as beloved family members – crumbs falling over the table’s edge and lapped up by adored canine companions. Whatever this odd exchange between Jesus and the woman actually means, Jesus ends up rewarding the persistent loyalty of the woman by celebrating her faith and fulfilling her request. His ministry expanded to include a non-Jew, a Canaanite sibling by blood, under the watchful gaze of his disciples.

The expansion of his ministry is remarkable for there was no love lost between Canaanites and Jews over the centuries leading up to Jesus’ interaction with the woman. I wonder about the hard to love and harder to learn parts of this story as they translate into our own century 2,000 years later. We watch from afar as the natural enmity of millennia, stoked by post-World War II decisions to create the state of Israel, roils into the most recent war between Israel and Hamas leaving thousands of Israelis and tens of thousands of Palestinians dead including children.[8]

The staggering statistics are vital to personalize through stories of families and people and to work towards peace even when it seems impossible and somehow easier to ignore. Several months ago, I was invited to a mutifaith lunch led by Friends of Standing Together, a grassroots movement organizing Jewish and Palestinian citizens of Israel working for peace.[9] Closer to home in the United States and in our Rocky Mountain Synod, Sumud, an ELCA ministry meaning “steadfastness” in Arabic, advocates “nonviolent resistance through advocacy, education, social work and faith-rooted presence.”[10] Sumud partners with the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Jordan and the Holy Land (ELCJHL), on ministries in education, health care, justice and leadership and “practices accompaniment with this Arabic-speaking community of faithful Lutherans.”[11]

Last week, I spent a few hours of retreat time with 15 other faith leaders in the Multifaith Leadership Forum. Even in our small number, the faiths represented included Islam, Judaism, Buddhism, Bahai, and Christianity. We’ve built some trust in the group over the years. Even so, we carry our own loyalties and blind spots into our time together. Hard conversations about war and peace in the Holy Land, the birthplace of many of our world faiths, intermingled with our individual stories and relationships among the group. Everyone wishing there was an easy answer to ending a seemingly endless war and bringing an everlasting peace that prioritizes life over death. It’s hard to separate the political from the personal because politics affect real people in real time. Whether people eat or don’t, whether people are safe or not is deeply affected by what elected leaders say and do and by who they believe are worthy; and this includes war and peace.

The personal story may be one reason why the story of the Canaanite woman and Jesus is so powerful. Jesus learns mercy from the woman’s challenge to him to help her daughter. Confronted by her need for help, Jesus’ blind spot shifts to help her, crossing the boundaries of gender, ethnicity, and religion as he learns to love by the power of her coaching.

In my sermon two weeks ago, I emphasized God’s promises to the Jews wrestled with by the Apostle Paul, a Jewish-Christian convert, in his letter to the Roman church in the Bible’s book of Romans.[12] His wrestling continues in our reading today from Romans in which he emphasizes the extension of God’s promises of mercy to Jews and to all.

Today’s Gospel reading personalizes God’s promises between Jesus, the Canaanite woman, and her daughter. Through her story, we’re coached once more that God’s promises of grace and unconditional love are trustworthy for you, for us, and for the world through the ever-expanding ministry of the Lord Jesus. Ministry that includes the diversity of human siblings in skin along with our Savior who slipped on Jewish and Canaanite skin to reveal what hard love and harder learning look like. Ministry fueled by an extravagant, perplexing grace that cannot be contained by bread baskets or tables or ethnic division. For this, and for all that God is doing, we can say thanks be to God and amen.

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[1] The Bowen Center for the Study of the Family

[2] Matthew 1:3-6 Jesus’ genealogy [Tamar: Genesis 38; Rahab: Book of Joshua, Chapter 2; Ruth: Book of Ruth]

[3] Mitzi J. Smith, Professor of New Testament, Columbia Theological Seminary. Commentary on Matthew 15:10-28. Sermon Brainwave Podcast posted August 20, 2017. https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=4542

[4] Pastor Barbara Berry Bailey, St. Paul’s Lutheran Church, Denver, CO. Rocky Mountain Synod, ELCA, Metro East Preacher’s Text Study on August 11, 2020.

[5] Francis D. Lazenby. Greek and Roman Household Pets. The Classic Journal: Vol.44, No. 4 (Jan. 1949), 245-252 and Vol 44., No. 5 (Feb. 1949), 290-307. http://penelope.uchicago.edu/Thayer/E/Journals/CJ/44/4/Household_Pets*.html

[6] Ibid.

[7] Ibid., Smith.

[8] July 31, 2026. Middle East: Civilian death toll climbs in Gaza, Lebanon and West Bank as UN chief demands ‘the fighting must stop’ | UN News

[9] English | standing-together

[10] SUMUD: for Justice in Palestine and Israel

[11] Ibid.

[12] August 2, 2026, caitlintrussell.org. A Moment of Peace in the Cultural Chaos | Caitlin Trussell

Preaching, Sermons

A Moment of Peace in the Cultural Chaos

Pastor Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on August 2, 2026

[sermon begins after two Bible readings]

Matthew 14:13-21 Now when Jesus heard [about the beheading of John the Baptist,] he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by himself. But when the crowds heard it, they followed him on foot from the towns. 14 When he went ashore, he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion for them and cured their sick. 15 When it was evening, the disciples came to him and said, “This is a deserted place, and the hour is now late; send the crowds away so that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.” 16 Jesus said to them, “They need not go away; you give them something to eat.” 17 They replied, “We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish.” 18 And he said, “Bring them here to me.” 19 Then he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven and blessed and broke the loaves and gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the crowds. 20 And all ate and were filled, and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full. 21 And those who ate were about five thousand men, besides women and children.

Romans 9:1-5  I am speaking the truth in Christ—I am not lying; my conscience confirms it by the Holy Spirit—2 I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart. 3 For I could wish that I myself were accursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my own brothers and sisters, my own flesh and blood. 4 They are Israelites, and to them belong the adoption, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises; 5 to them belong the patriarchs, and from them, according to the flesh, comes the Christ, who is over all, God blessed forever. Amen.

[sermon begins]

We connect with each other in the blink of an eye. Texts, emails, DMs, and pings fire from our fingertips. Phone calls fly across the planet. Our lightning-fast connections mute the handwritten letters of past centuries and millennia, slow boats and snail mail. Most letters are long gone, wisps of paper more fragile than our bodies. That is, unless you’re a historical figure like the Apostle Paul who wrote a lot of the letters included in the New Testament of the Christian Bible.

We wing around Paul’s name with so much respect that it’s hard to remember that he was a 1st century Jewish religious leader responsible for deaths of the earliest Christians. He held the coats while they were stoned. Paul’s conversion to Christianity is told in the book of Acts. It’s flashy, dramatic, and memorable – maybe even Hollywood worthy as he was blinded by the light, heard the voice of Jesus, and scales fell from his eyes to regain sight. Instead of killing Christians, Paul began planting churches. He wrote letters to these new churches, telling them he loved them, quieting their concerns, and reminding them about God’s promises in Jesus.

Paul’s letter to the Roman church became the Bible book of Romans. In our reading from Romans today, Paul had just finished writing the promise that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. Nothing. He then wrestled with what this means for Jews, for his people, his kindred in the flesh.

As Paul wrestled, he rambled, “…my kindred according to the flesh; they are Israelites, and to them belong the adoption, the glory, the covenants, the giving of the law, the worship, and the promises; to them belong the patriarchs, and from them according to the flesh, comes the Messiah, who is over all, God blessed forever, amen.”

Thousands of years ago, the Israelites, who were later called Jews, were blessed by God. Who were they to Paul? In our times, Israel is a country. In our Bible’s book of Genesis, Israel is a person, a person whose name was changed from Jacob after he wrestled “with God and with humans and prevailed.” From the Hebrew people freed from Pharoah by Moses, to the people Israel named after Jacob, to the Jews – generations of people to whom God made promises, promises in the form of a covenant through which the whole world would be blessed through a new covenant that includes everyone.[1]

In Lutheran Christianity, we talk about God’s promises quite a bit. At the communion table, we hear God’s promise through Jesus as the “new covenant in my blood.” We trust God to keep God’s promises and hold God accountable for the promises God has made. God’s promises are forever. Paul could have argued that Christianity is over and against Judaism, but HE DIDN’T. For good reason. Paul knew that either God keeps God’s promises or God isn’t trustworthy to keep any promises. The new covenant is an extension of the covenant that God made with the Jews, not erasure.

God’s promised covenant with the Jews matters today as much as it ever has. Antisemitism is the word that describes hatred for Jews and antisemitism is on the rise all around the world and here at home in Denver. How we talk about our Christian faith becomes a matter of life and death for our Jewish family, friends, and neighbors. As we call the modern state of Israel to account for its war against the Palestinians, we need to take care that we don’t paint Judaism with the broad brush of antisemitism as demands rightly escalate for peace in that region. It’s very complicated and it’s all too real with Palestinian and Jewish people’s lives at stake. We work for peace with Jews and Palestinians even as we long for it.

Paul longed for full knowledge. His letters are filled with longing to see the God’s promises fulfilled. In another letter he writes about being human as seeing through a mirror dimly.[2] We simply cannot see the big picture. Every so often we get glimpses of it, but our human highs and lows distract us. Matthew’s Gospel reading today is a case in point.

Jesus feeds the more than 5,000 children, women, and men in the story immediately following the gruesome beheading of John the Baptist at King Herod’s dinner party. After he gets the news of John’s death, Jesus’ pursuit of quiet is foiled by the crowds who follow his boat on foot around the water’s edge. When he goes ashore and sees the people, he’s filled with compassion. The Greek work for “compassion” here means that he felt for them deep in his belly. The crowd’s desperation was gut-wrenching for Jesus. In their distress, they had followed him to a deserted place. Perhaps they too were grieving and even afraid after John’s murder. At the very least, it was a tumultuous time for Jesus followers.

As 21st century Jesus followers, we are learning a thing or two about our own tumultuous times. We feel our own grief and fear. Desperation is in our own homes, down the street, and around the world. Fragile social structures are destabilized and leave some people especially vulnerable. It’s tempting to look away because the despair is heart breaking and our emotional resources feel maxed. But we can also pause and see people as people and allow desperation to stir our gut-wrenching compassion.

Augustana’s Soup Shelf was born out of such need and compassion during the pandemic. The honor system food shelf on the covered porch of our Sanctuary feeds people in our own congregation as well as neighbors in the community. We leave canned food on the porch of the Sanctuary and are instrumental in people eating today. You can bring canned food to share or take food to eat.

When Jesus prepares food for thousands of children, women, and men, he takes, blesses and breaks the loaves of bread before giving them to the people. This is not a serene summer picnic for the people or for Jesus. John’s execution by the king is a public act of political theater that traumatized the people. They sit together in what amounts to a funeral reception of fish and bread and each other. The people are treated to a meal from Jesus using the language of holy communion—bread taken, blessed, broken, and given. Amid the cultural chaos, there is a moment of peace fed by God’s promises.

We also pause in the cultural chaos of our time to simply be together and to receive. I’m sure that I’m not the only one who needs the reminder that we don’t muster up all that we need spiritually from inside of ourselves. It’s easy to either get caught up in the myth of the rugged individual or to curl up in despair when left to our own devices. Today, in bread and wine we’ll receive the fullness of Christ’s grace, forgiveness, strength, and peace.

A moment of peace when we’re reminded that Jesus turns to the desperate crowd and has compassion for them. Just as Jesus turns to us in these impossible times and has compassion for us – for our humanity, for our noise, and for the mess we find ourselves in. Jesus reminds us to sit, to pause, to eat, and to remember how important it is to give and to receive.

For today, you are invited to receive Jesus’ compassion. Jesus who knows the trauma of losing close friends amid political chaos. He knows the instinct to find quiet in a deserted place when bad things happen. He is the Word made flesh who experienced surrender, pain, hope, and joy. Following Jesus means we can receive his compassion for us when we don’t know what to do next. Sometimes, it’s enough that we set a table at home for communion via livestream or we hold our hands out to receive God’s promise in bread and wine. Hope for today is kindled and fueled as we receive God’s promises beyond our imaginings in the small, simple things of bread and wine from Jesus—the who is, who was, and who is to come.[3] Thanks be to God and amen.

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[1] Genesis 12:1-3

[2] 1 Corinthians 13:12

[3] Revelation 1:8