All posts by caitlin121608

Preaching, Sermons

Easter Mystery: Where’s the BODY?!! – Luke 24:1-12

**sermon art: Women at the Tomb by Graham Braddock

Pastor Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church (Denver) on April 20, 2025

[sermon begins after the Bible reading]

Luke 24:1-12  On the first day of the week, at early dawn, [the women] came to the tomb, taking the spices that they had prepared. 2 They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, 3 but when they went in, they did not find the body. 4 While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them. 5 The women were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. 6 Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, 7 that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again.” 8 Then they remembered his words, 9 and returning from the tomb, they told all this to the eleven and to all the rest. 10 Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles. 11 But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. 12 But Peter got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; then he went home, amazed at what had happened.

[sermon begins]

Where’s the BODY?! Jesus’ BODY? Did someone take Jesus? Where did they put him?  Is any BODY there?! The perplexed women—Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary mother of James and the others—saw so much as part of Jesus’ ministry, especially in those last few days. They watched Jesus be put to death on a cross by politically and religiously powerful people. They watched Joseph of Arimathea take Jesus off the cross and put him in the tomb. They packed spices and ointments with which they’d return after resting on the Sabbath “according to the commandment.”[1]

The women were faithful, courageous, and diligent through the previous days of tragedy, confusion, and grief. When so many disciples fled, or otherwise fell apart, these women stayed and saw it all. But the BODY is gone! There was no BODY to see. No BODY to tend. They had seen Jesus’ body laid in the tomb, so they were ready to anoint his body with oil and spices, to say thank you for his life, and to say a loving goodbye after his death. Instead, they encounter a couple of razzle dazzle dudes of the divine kind. The women react to their dazzling divinity by bowing their faces to the ground.

Although, what the two dazzling men do next is fairly ordinary. They remind the women what Jesus taught them when he was alive. And what he taught them fits with what they saw him go through on the cross. The women saw ungodly violence and sifted their experiences through what Jesus said before he died, and through what the two dazzling dudes in the tomb are saying now. Their reminder makes sense of things. That’s way this works. We hear something that gives our experience a new or different meaning—not explaining the grief away or making heinous suffering magically better—but gleaning from suffering and grief in a way that feels like a gift.

This gift of gleaning is no small thing. The Dalai Lama of Tibetan Buddhism and Desmond Tutu of Anglican Christianity reflected together on joy and suffering from their respective traditions.[2] These two wizened elders talked about living in deep joy even though we experience suffering. Neither they, nor any of us here, must go very far personally or culturally to find tragedy, confusion, and grief. From personal illness to the death of a loved one, to international genocide, to innocent immigrants deported to horrific prisons, to queer youth vilified or worse, to whatever you’d like to add to the list, we totally get tragedy and grief. We get it deep in our gut, in our heartache, in our BODY.

Our bodies just aren’t designed to hold it all. Our bodies are designed to hold a village-worth of news, not a world’s worth of news. It’s tempting to numb our suffering in the sizzle-and-fizzle dopamine cycle of food, alcohol, or doom-scrolling as we try to make our bodies feel better. The problem with the sizzle-and-fizzle strategy is that we humans tend to put those behaviors on repeat. We entomb ourselves in the things that bring temporary relief. Tombs of our own making that wound our bodies, isolate us from each other, and steal our joy.

Living in deep joy while we experience suffering SOUNDS nice. Actually, a little better than nice. And lots better than how we often handle suffering. Take Jesus’ apostles who weren’t at the tomb with the women. They were hiding out. Not unusual in dark times to lay low and go silent. They too had been through terror and grief in the last three days. From their vantage point, of course Jesus’ BODY was still in the tomb. They knew he’d died. They’re terrified that they’re next in line for the death penalty. When Mary Magdalene, Joanna, and the others shared what they had heard at the tomb, the apostles called it an “idle tale”—which is a G-rated translation of that Greek word, by the way. BODIES don’t just disappear, and they certainly don’t just rise. Except…there’s the apostle Peter.

The very same Peter who denied that he knew Jesus three times during Jesus’ crucifixion trial. Peter ran to the tomb despite the women’s “idle tale.” Perhaps he was more concerned that the women were telling the truth, worrying what his friend Jesus would say about Peter’s denials during the trial. It could be hope or fear or both that sent Peter running to the tomb to see if any BODY is there.

Regardless, Peter’s dash to the tomb depended on the women’s story. That can be a frustrating thing about resurrection faith. We have no access to it outside of the witness of other people, the witness of the wider church that is also called the BODY of Christ.[3]  Like Peter, we’re dependent on each other for resurrection faith. Like Peter looking into the tomb himself, ultimately the witness of the church is not enough, and people need their own encounters with Jesus and the empty tomb.

Where our individual experiences connect with the resurrection faith of the church is part of what the empty tomb is about. Like Mary Magdalene, Joanna, and Peter, we do not solve the mystery, we enter the mystery of resurrection faith – God bringing us through cross and tomb into new life because we are God’s children, broken and beloved, resurrected into the BODY of Christ through Jesus’ death and resurrection. Resurrection faith trusts that there is enough for every BODY—enough resources, enough love, enough life—as we extend Christ’s arms of love and grace, so that Jesus’ joyous welcome through us nourishes the world into community.

New life literally abounds as Easter and Spring happen simultaneously this year. The new snow soaks into tree roots. Perennials pop up green and budding while 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. Life doesn’t conveniently align with the season of the earth or the season of the church. One gift of the BODY of Christ is that the prayers, practices, and people of the church’s resurrection faith cocoon 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. Our BODIES are not designed to hold it all, BUT the BODY of Christ, the church, is designed to hold it together.

On a wider scale, being the church, the BODY of Christ, calls us to be the love that we receive however imperfectly we reveal that love. We donate land for affordable homes just down the hill. We welcome the stranger with our refugee support teams. We pray for our enemies while holding them accountable for the dignity of each child of God. And we love our neighbors as ourselves by accompanying them in advocacy and amplifying their voices with our own.

The good news of Easter reminds us that God loves the world and does not leave us alone – the dazzling men in the tomb reminded the women that Jesus had already told them this good news; the apostles heard the good news of the resurrection from Mary Magdalene, Joanna, and the others; 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 and hope in the face of suffering.

Our suffering is joined by the risen Christ who knows suffering personally, who rolls open the tombs we make for ourselves, and draws us into new life, into the BODY of Christ. Where’s the BODY? Is any BODY there?! Yes. Right here. We are the BODY made new yet again today in community from the newest visitors to the longest time members. God brings us through cross and tomb into the joy of new life solely because we are beloved children of God. Each one of us, EVERY BODY, is unconditionally beloved. By that very love, you are welcome here. The church gets to be the love we receive for the sake of the world and remind everyone that they are loved, too.  This means that there is nothing you can do or not do to make God love you anymore or any less. That’s the way unconditional love works. Happy Easter!

_________________________________________________________

[1] Luke 23:50-56

[2] Dalai Lama, Desmond Tutu, and Douglas Abrams. The Book of Joy: Lasting Happiness in a Changing World. (New York: Avery, 2016).

[3] Matthew Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary. Podcast on Bible readings for Easter Sunday, April 21, 2019. https://www.workingpreacher.org/brainwave.aspx?podcast_id=1129

Sermons

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

 

**sermon art: Unction of Christ by Maria Stankova

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

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

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

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

[sermon begins after Bible reading]

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

[sermon begins]

PASTOR KENT: 

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

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

PASTOR CAITLIN: 

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

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

PASTOR KENT: 

Endings and beginnings. Death and Life. Together. 

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

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

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

PASTOR CAITLIN: 

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

PASTOR KENT: 

Beginnings and endings. Life and death. Together. 

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

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

PASTOR CAITLIN: 

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

PASTOR KENT: 

Endings and beginnings. Death and Life. Together. 

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

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

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

PASTOR CAITLIN: 

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

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

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

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

Hymn during the anointing:

There Is a Longing

Hymn after the sermon:

Holy Woman, Graceful Giver ACS 1002

______________________________________________________________

Sources and resources 

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

 

Sermons

Is Any BODY There? Yes! The Prodigal Son Returns—Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32 [OR The Nuance of Smarty-Pants Phones and Resting in the Holy]

 

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on March 30, 2025

[sermon begins after the Bible story of the Prodigal Son told by Jesus – worth reading as a sermon unto itself]

Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32 Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to [Jesus.] 2 And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.”
3 So he told them this parable: 11b “There was a man who had two sons. 12 The younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.’ So he divided his property between them. 13 A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living. 14 When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. 15 So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. 16 He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. 17 But when he came to himself he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! 18 I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.” ’ 20 So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. 21 Then the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ 22 But the father said to his slaves, ‘Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23 And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; 24 for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!’ And they began to celebrate.
25 “Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. 26 He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. 27 He replied, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.’ 28 Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. 29 But he answered his father, ‘Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!’ 31 Then the father said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.’ ”

[sermon begins]

“Look it up.” My mother’s words, back in day, would send my siblings and I to the massive family dictionary open on the book stand or the set of encyclopedias on the living room shelf. We’re not sure whether sending us to look it up:

  1. bought her time to herself. A full-time job AND five children were A LOT to manage;
  2. meant that she didn’t have to say, “I don’t know;” or
  3. was a parent instilling curiosity in their kids.

Likely it was a mix of each. Looking up words and ideas, maps and historical people was just what our family did. It was our family’s thing. Like some families camp and other families play sports. We looked things up. You can imagine the delight and wonder when computers more powerful than we could imagine came on the scene disguised as smarty-pants phones. Hanging out with my sibs these days includes deep discussions, questions, and looking it up on our smartphones. Curiosity runs amok in this crew.  The perils of doom-scrolling to emotional health and misuse of the interwebs to community health are widely known so I’ll refrain from enumerating them here. These clever devices are designed to foster dependency on the tech, misinformation, and monetized content, yet they are also tools that expand real human connection, care, and support.[1] We share each other lives and events there. These nuances are important as we ask and answer our Lenten theme: “Is Any BODY there? Yes!” And today we hear the call to Sabbath.

Sabbath means rest. [2] Sabbath is observed on Saturdays by Jews and on Sundays by Christians. The sabbath imitates God resting on the seventh day after forming creation.[3] The Third Commandment says, “Remember the sabbath day, and keep it holy.”[4] Rest was a radical notion way back in the day when God’s people were trying to survive as desert nomads. Sabbath rest is way deeper than spa days, sports and fitness, or scrolling through our socials. Sabbath rest orients us to the holy, to God. Even better, we’re oriented BY God who mandated sabbath rest. Not to look it up to learn something, but to look up and be known by God.

There’s almost no better Bible story than the prodigal son for a day about remembering the sabbath and keeping it holy. A story about a determined and then desperate son being loved, embraced, and celebrated by a desperate and determined father. The younger son squandered all the money he had demanded from his father on what Jesus called, “dissolute living.” Great word. But here’s the focus today. The younger son looked up and saw himself with a clear mind when he was starving as the pigs dined. He looked up from the mud and saw himself. He remembered the community available to him. He remembered his father and knew he had to make an apology. He came up with one. No telling how honest it was. Armed with his apology, he headed home to his father.

Dad looked up and saw someone walking up the road. It was one of those moments, maybe you know the kind, where his heart knew but his head couldn’t catch up fast enough, so he just stood there, frozen, wondering if it was true.  But he knew, he knew his son’s shape, his walk, he knew HIM!  Before he could think any more about it, he moved like lightning! Later, he could only remember running as fast as he could; maybe even yelling as he ran. He was a sight—eyes wild, robes and dust flying all around, chickens scattering and squawking, he just simply couldn’t move fast enough. The father practically knocked them both over when he caught his son in his arms, rocking side to side with the excess energy, eyes weeping away the worry.

The son said something, but the father’s pounding heart must have blocked hearing it. All the father knew was to celebrate. That very moment was a celebration, and that celebration became a party – fatted calf, robe, ring and all! The older son couldn’t bring himself to go inside, isolating himself in righteous rage. How dare his brother show his face around here again! His father went out to him, affirming his worth and their deep connection while still rejoicing that the younger son was lost and now is found. You only have to look as far as our PEAK Support Group, “Parents of Estranged Adult Kids,” to know the heavy heart and helpless hope of a parent longing for their child’s return.

The holiness of reconciliation is like nothing else. Neither is its offense. We hear God’s word in Jesus’ story without missing a beat. It preaches itself as we take our sabbath rest here in worship. How many of us can relate to the older brother’s anger? It’s easy to understand. He’d been faithful and diligent, doing all the hard work while his younger brother left. Just left! Now he’s back and dad is throwing a party?! Inconceivable!

But there are some of us here this morning who can relate to the younger brother. Mistakes made that wounded us and key relationships. Deep regret about inflicting pain on someone else, on our families and friends. Wondering if God’s reckless grace can truly include even us.

At best, our Sabbath rest orients us and reorients us to this prodigal God of extravagant compassion as we look up and out towards being human together, in our bodies together. Technology augments our reality, for which there are many reasons to be grateful.[5] Many of us owe our health and wellness to that very technology. Still more of us are connected across space and time in real relationship because of it. I’m in regular contact with friends from long ago and all over the world because of it!

But Lent is a perfect time to consider the effect of tech and its excesses on our bodies and relationships, too. Lent reminds that we hand ourselves over to all kinds of things that are not God, squandering our longings and our hopes and wondering why we’re watching pigs dine.

The holiness of the sabbath is not self-generated. Holiness is not born from our music or singing. We don’t instigate holiness by our good deeds or compassion. The holiness is God’s and we but look up and reflect our experience of it as the church, the embodiment of Christ as God’s people in the world. A God who loves us when we’re close and when we’re far away. In our faithfulness and in our humiliation. In our daily work and in our return from wandering. We are ambassadors of God’s household—looking up to find whoever is lost from this house and embracing them into God’s life. For all of this and for more than there are words, we can say thanks be to God for unquenchable, reckless, prodigal, amazing grace!

_____________________________________________

[1] Craig Mueller. “Augmented Reality” in Any Body There? Worship and Being Human in a Digital Age (Eugene: Wipf & Stock, 2017), 120-129.

[2] Frederick Buechner. “Sabbath” in Wishful Thinking: A Seeker’s ABC (New York: HarperCollins, 1973, 1993), 100.

[3] Genesis 2:3

[4] Exodus 20:8 and the Small Catechism of Martin Luther, Evangelical Lutheran Worship (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 2006), 1160.

[5] Mueller, Ibid, 128.

___________________________________________________

This is the second reading for worship. I didn’t explicitly incorporate it but it’s throughout the sermon.

2 Corinthians 5:16-21  From now on, therefore, we regard no one from a human point of view; even though we once knew Christ from a human point of view, we know him no longer in that way. 17 So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! 18 All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation; 19 that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us. 20 So we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making his appeal through us; we entreat you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. 21 For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.

Preaching, Sermons

Strangers are Embodied Mystery. Cool. [OR Is Any Body There? Yes!!]

Strangers are Embodied Mystery. Cool. [OR Is Any Body There? Yes!!]

[Sermon begins after the Bible reading. The other two Bible readings are at the end of the sermon.]

Luke 13:31-35 At that very hour some Pharisees came and said to [Jesus,] “Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you.” 32 He said to them, “Go and tell that fox for me, ‘Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. 33 Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.’ 34 Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing! 35 See, your house is left to you. And I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when you say, ‘Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.’ ”

[sermon begins]

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on March 16, 2025

Pastor’s kids. They’re a thing. They’re so much a thing that in church-land they’re called a “PK” – Pastor Kid. My kids didn’t grow up with a pastor mom. They say that their mom is a pastor, but my call came later in their childhoods—their church experience unaffected by it. They watched me go through seminary and, as teenagers, the two of them helped Rob put on my stole during ordination. They grew up with a mom who was discovering Christianity as if for the first time. I was asking questions. Tons of them. The kids asked questions or announced their creative answers before asking. Taryn, sometime in early elementary school, said, “God must have a special skin machine in heaven.” I don’t remember the conversation we had but her comment stuck. She was trying to solve a mystery, a resurrection mystery or a heaven mystery or maybe an Apostle’s Creed mystery about the resurrection of the dead. Not really sure. But she was onto something both with her question and her mystery card. Every theological system plays at least one mystery card. Makes sense. Theology is the study of God and religious experience. Since we can’t prove God like a science experiment, we’re talking about mystery when we talk about God.

Mystery allows questions and creative answers. When we ask the question this Lent, “Is Any Body There?”[1] We can say a resounding, “Yes!” Because God entered time in the person of Jesus and God is not limited to the first century. Mystery reveals curiosity as inherent to faithful witness, rejecting certainty as a corruption of faith. As Pastor Karen preached last Sunday, God’s body is Jesus’ body. That is quite a claim. It’s one based on the Bible and it’s also a mystery. We talk about the mystery of the Bible in the Discover Augustana class. It’s neither a science book nor a history book nor a newspaper. As much as we want those things to be true, the Biblical writers were many, many people writing over many, many centuries about their experience of God. Additionally, we claim that the Holy Spirit inspired the Biblical writers and works on us through the Bible. We enter that mystery with appropriate awe and caution.

Let’s try it with the story of Abram and the Lord in the book of Genesis reading. The animals cut in half were an ancient ritual in which covenants were formed between people and groups.[2] The one who walked down the center of the animals was committing to keeping the covenant under penalty of death. Abram didn’t walk between the animals cut in half. The Lord did. The Lord was sealing the covenant with Abram under penalty of death. Who’s death? Not Abrams. The Lord’s death. A death that ends up happening to Jesus in Jerusalem.[3] Remember, God’s body is Jesus body. As Jesus taught his disciples about wanting to gather Jerusalem like a hen gathers her chicks against the hungry fox, Jesus is describing himself. God’s-self. As Jesus teaches through towns in Galilee, heading towards Jerusalem, the inevitable conclusion to his journey is the cross. The same cross by which we are sealed in baptism as children of God. The same cross written about by Paul in his letter to the Philippians that reveals the heavenly identity we bear.

There are several mystery cards in today’s theological deck of Bible verses. Maybe that’s a good thing. Because we tend to interpret the Bible in our image, sinning with certainty instead of faith humbled by mystery. We don’t have to look very far into the story about Abram and the Lord to find the themes of covenant, land, and driving away the birds of prey MISused as justification for Zionism and the current Israeli government’s destruction of Gaza and the slaughter of Palestinians who lawfully reside there. Or into the story of Jesus as he challenges the politics of Jerusalem as Herod Antipas tightened his murderous grip around the people who lived there.[4] Jesus words about the unwillingness of Jerusalem have been MISused as justification for Jewish erasure and anti-Jewish violence even though the Jewish leaders in this particular story were trying to help Jesus avoid execution. Or the story of Paul’s letter to the Corinthians which has been MISused as justification for ignoring issues in the world because heaven is the ultimate goal.

Repenting for the ways that the Bible has been misused to hurt real people opens a way into cautious, faithful curiosity about the mystery. God is both up close AND otherworldly. God’s body as Jesus’ body doesn’t limit God to only that activity in Jesus. Our limitations create God in our own image rather than allowing the mystery of God, the other worldliness of God, to humble our thinking, and open possibilities that we hadn’t considered.

Here’s an example of mystery and humility as it played out in this congregation and many others. If you had told me in 2019, before the pandemic, that someday I’d be inviting folks to holy communion on livestream, I would have laughed out loud. During the pandemic, Pastor Ann and I along with thousands of pastors and bishops asked ourselves this question, “Do we believe that the Holy Spirit can work across distance, time, and place in the Lord’s Supper?” The first part of the question was easy. Honestly, the freedom of the Holy Spirit is beyond question in the Bible. Of course, the Holy Spirit can blow where the Holy Spirit wills. That made the second part of the question about livestream much easier to answer. And now you hear me say during the communion instructions, “For those of you on livestream, you’re invited to have bread or cracker and wine or juice and receive them with these words, “The body of Christ given for you; and the blood of Christ shed for you.” I would sum it up this way, in person communion is ideal. More than ideal. We’re called to worship together as bodies. And yet, God absolutely works in less-than-ideal circumstances to proclaim and reveal the love of Christ to everyone. We use what we have to that end. Martin Luther used the printing press in the 1500s. We use livestream. And the mystery continues.

Mystery opens us to the possibility that God works beyond our knowing in places, times, and people we don’t know and can’t imagine. Thanks be to God! One simple example in this congregation is that we sing hymns written hundreds of years ago across the ocean and we also sing hymns written just a few years ago from around the world. We also worship with a liturgy that has its origins in ancient Judaism while updating words and prayers for our moment today. Holy communion used to be practiced by the earliest baptized Christians in their homes and here we are in a public church inviting everyone of all ages to the table. The church is BOTH ancient AND now. There’s a mystery for you.

Mystery also turns us towards each other. In the last Discover Augustana class, several people talked about the experience of walking into worship here for the first time and experiencing an openness from the people around them. That openness to new people is being open to mystery.[5]  In those earliest greetings we are no more than friendly strangers. And strangers are embodied mystery, are they not? Newcomers in worship are taking a leap of faith that this faith community might make sense for them and longtime Augustana folks are open to the mystery of new people. Embodied mystery. Sounds cool.

Being open to mystery and what we don’t know may lead to connections with different faith communities, too.[6] A few nights ago, our Muslim cousins in faith[7] from the Multicultural Mosaic Foundation hosted 35 of us from Augustana (and more from the wider community!) for their Iftar dinner as they broke their daily Ramadan fast after sunset. Kids and families were welcome, too. Our hosts taught us about Ramadan and what it means to their faith. We also just got to know each other as people over dinner conversation at each of our tables. When we engage in mystery, walls come down across communities as trust is built. Not perfectly, for sure. But that’s a world I’m interested in living in. More importantly, it’s a world that Jesus leads us to build by following his example across differences. (For those of you still curious about how Muslims are our cousins in faith, check out Genesis, chapter 21, when God promises Ishmael, Abram’s other son, that God “will make a great nation of him.”)

Being claimed by the mystery of faith—by the mystery of Christ’s death, resurrection, and return—means God’s limitless imagination is poured out by the Holy Spirit for this world, for our church, and for you. May our curiosity be faithful and full of grace. Amen.

_____________________________________________________

[1] Craig Mueller. Any Body There? Worship and Being Human in the Digital Age, (Oregon: Wipf & Stock Publishers, 2017).

[2] Rolf Jacobson, Dean of the Faculty, Professor of Old Testament and the Alvin N. Rogness Chair of Scripture, Theology, and Ministry at Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Sermon Brainwave podcast on Bible readings for the Second Sunday in Lent, March 16, 2025. www.workingpreacher.org/podcasts/1012-second-sunday-in-lent-c-mar-16-2025

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid, Matt Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN.

[5] Ibid., Craig Mueller, 77-78

[6] Ibid., Craig Mueller, 81.

[7] Genesis 21:8-21 The story of Hagar and Ishmael, Abram’s son, being sent away and also being blessed by God.

________________________________________________________

Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18 After these things the word of the Lord came to Abram in a vision, “Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield; your reward shall be very great.” 2 But Abram said, “O Lord God, what will you give me, for I continue childless, and the heir of my house is Eliezer of Damascus?” 3 And Abram said, “You have given me no offspring, and so a slave born in my house is to be my heir.” 4 But the word of the Lord came to him, “This man shall not be your heir; no one but your very own issue shall be your heir.” 5 He brought him outside and said, “Look toward heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them.” Then he said to him, “So shall your descendants be.” 6 And he believed the Lord; and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness.
7 Then he said to him, “I am the Lord who brought you from Ur of the Chaldeans, to give you this land to possess.” 8 But he said, “O Lord God, how am I to know that I shall possess it?” 9 He said to him, “Bring me a heifer three years old, a female goat three years old, a ram three years old, a turtledove, and a young pigeon.” 10 He brought him all these and cut them in two, laying each half over against the other; but he did not cut the birds in two. 11 And when birds of prey came down on the carcasses, Abram drove them away.
12 As the sun was going down, a deep sleep fell upon Abram, and a deep and terrifying darkness descended upon him.
17 When the sun had gone down and it was dark, a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch passed between these pieces. 18 On that day the Lord made a covenant with Abram, saying, “To your descendants I give this land, from the river of Egypt to the great river, the river Euphrates.”

Philippians 3:17-4:1 Brothers and sisters, join in imitating me, and observe those who live according to the example you have in us. 18 For many live as enemies of the cross of Christ; I have often told you of them, and now I tell you even with tears. 19 Their end is destruction; their god is the belly; and their glory is in their shame; their minds are set on earthly things. 20 But our citizenship is in heaven, and it is from there that we are expecting a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ. 21 He will transform the body of our humiliation that it may be conformed to the body of his glory, by the power that also enables him to make all things subject to himself. 4:1 Therefore, my brothers and sisters, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, stand firm in the Lord in this way, my beloved.

Good News, Preaching, Sermons

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

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

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on March 5, 2025

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

______________________________________________________________

[1] 2 Corinthians 6:9-10

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

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

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

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

_______________________________________________________________

Ash Wednesday readings:

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

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

Preaching, Sermons

Listening to Not Lose Heart [OR Generating Hope for our Children] 2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2 (to not lose heart), Luke 9:28-36 (Jesus’ Transfiguration)

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on March 2, 2025

You’re invited to Ash Wednesday on March 5. Come get ashy at noon or 7 p.m. or find ashes at a church near you. Ashes are a sign of mortality and fill us with wonder about the precious gift of life.

[sermon ends after two readings]

2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2 (I shortened it here to get to the main point)

Therefore, since it is by God’s mercy that we are engaged in this ministry, we do not lose heart. 2 We have renounced the shameful things that one hides; we refuse to practice cunning or to falsify God’s word; but by the open statement of the truth we commend ourselves to the conscience of everyone in the sight of God.

Luke 9:28-36 (Jesus’ Transfiguration)

Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. 29 And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. 30 Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. 31 They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. 32 Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. 33 Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah”—not knowing what he said. 34 While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. 35 Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” 36 When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.

[sermon begins]

Contrary to what you might imagine, there are occasional Sundays when this church geek wonders if there’s enough energy for worship plus whatever else is happening that morning. It could have been a long week or I just didn’t sleep well or pastoral care has left me brokenhearted or there are too many family logistics. The reasons don’t much matter. Then, I get to church. Say hi to Seki, Andy and AVE, Bill, Shanna, Pastor Kent or Pastor Karen, and the people preparing communion. Punch holes in my worship bulletin. Make copies of my sermon. And robe up. These moments are part of my pre-liturgy ritual. It varies slightly from Sunday to Sunday, but those moments start moving my subdued spirit. I’m never sure when the boost will happen, but it’s often those moments just after the Confession and Forgiveness and the first verse or two of singing the gathering hymn with you all. The other parts of the liturgy begin to unfold and, by the time the Sending Hymn hushes into the Dismissal, my spirit is recharged. Rather than wonder how I was going to make it through worship, I’m left wondering how I thought I was going to make it through everything else without it.

In that wondering, Peter’s desire to hang on to the razzle dazzle of Jesus’ transfiguration follows a similar logic. It’s one of the weirder Bible stories. Jesus’ face shines with God’s glory as do the two ancient admired ancestors – Moses and Elijah. Cosmically awed by the dazzling light radiating from the three of them, Peter wants to enshrine them. That dim idea along with Peter and his friends were quickly shrouded in the cloud. “Then from the cloud came a voice that said, ‘This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!’ When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone.” Jesus, the One to whom we should listen.

The Hebrew understanding of the word “listen” is linked to obedience – listening to obey what is heard.[1] Listening to Jesus engages us in his ministry of faith. “Since it is by God’s mercy that we engage in this ministry, we do not lose heart.” So says the 2 Corinthians reading today. Reminding each other of God’s mercy through Jesus is what we do for each other in worship together. Week after week we remind each other that we are called to something bigger by something way bigger. A mystery larger than ourselves that right sizes our humanity under and below God’s divinity. And also a mystery that includes each one of us as the church, the risen body of Christ in the world, making more of us together than we could be by ourselves.

The 2nd Letter to the Corinthian church was written to encourage some of the earliest Jesus followers. It was easy to lose heart in a world such as theirs. Just as it’s easy to lose heart in a world such as ours. Our world in which Jesus’ teachings about cooperation, peace, and community are regularly overshadowed by messages about competition, threat, and territoriality. There are far too many examples of how this is playing out in our world at the moment. Listening to Jesus calls us into ministry in which God’s mercy fills our hearts so that we don’t lose heart. One way to fill hearts is through action and advocacy alongside folks who are struggling with food insecurity and access to other resources like healthcare and education. In that spirit, you’re all invited to today’s noon discussion about advocacy opportunities. When we do ministry together to make God’s love real in the world, we’re focused on what we CAN do, not what we can’t control.

When we do what we CAN do, we cultivate hope in the world for us and for the children watching us. Our children need hope as an antidote to the daily messages of despair and to fuel their momentum into an unknown future. Their spiritual need for hope is a deep concern of this congregation. A few hours connected in community on Sunday morning and during other activities is one way to surround families with support and hope in a world that works against both.

We’ve been in the season of Epiphany since after Christmas. Epiphany emphasizes the light of Christ shining in the darkness and now crescendos to a close today on a mountaintop in dazzling light with Jesus’ Transfiguration. During this season, together we’ve made our weekly worship confession with this prayer:

Merciful God, you speak compassion into the world, while we ignore the needs of our neighbors, give in to scarcity and fear, and assume the worst about one another. Restore our hearts to seek justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with you in the light of Christ. Amen.”

These past weeks, we’ve been praying for the restoration of our hearts through justice, kindness, and humility in the light of Christ. But we often look for light in other places to decrease fear. And there are so many shiny, dazzling lights out there promising to fix our fear or at least distract us from it. There are also the shiny, distracting lights out there that stoke our fear and tell us who to blame for it. Distraction and blame excuse us from helping the people we feel don’t deserve our help and we need never look at the good, bad, and ugly of ourselves.  We humans can be so clever that way, blinding ourselves to the very things that Jesus calls us to see and do. This is why, after we make our confession, we also hear a word of God’s good forgiveness:

Hear this promise of grace: In +Christ+, your sins are forgiven. In the Spirit, you are made free. Live anew as beloved children of God. Amen.

On the mountaintop, dazzled by Jesus’ light today, many of us wonder if there’s anything to the Transfiguration. Pausing on the mountaintop before our six-week journey through Lent to the cross that sits on a different hill.[2]  It’s one thing for us to faithfully listen to Jesus and be comforted. It’s another thing to faithfully listen to Jesus and be made uncomfortable and to do ministry together. Thankfully, following Jesus is often a group project. So, we’re going to roll down this dazzling mountain into Lent and into the theme, “Is Any BODY There? Yes!” Jesus lived on our earth as we do, sharing with us an embodied presence. During Lent, we’ll reflect on what it means to be human, as embodied people who are longing for connection, healing, and hope. And––because of Easter––we are now the Body of Christ, alive in the world. The life, death, and resurrection of Jesus means that we are never alone. The Surgeon General’s Advisory on loneliness recognizes the healing effects of social connection and community. During our six weeks of Lent, we will, together, deepen our connections with God, each other, and our community.

Listening to Jesus and doing what he says can be a dicey proposition because it quickly becomes a way of validating ourselves and invalidating other people. We become heavy-handed and perpetuate the very fear that Jesus frees us from. The Transfiguration, in its weird, dramatic dazzle, is a moment in Jesus’ story that defies any attempt at certainty because it is pure mystery. The time-space continuum bends as ancestors and friends share space and light on the top of the mountain. The Transfiguration resists explanation while drawing us to the light of God in Jesus and reminds us that we are in ministry together so that we do not lose heart. Alleluia and amen.

_________________________________________________________________________

 

[1] Joy J. Moore, Associate Professor of Biblical Preaching, Luther Seminary. Podcast for the Transfiguration on February 23, 2020. https://www.workingpreacher.org/brainwave.aspx?podcast_id=1232

Preaching, Sermons

Jesus Levels the Playing Field [OR Self-Examination through the Super Bowl Halftime Show] Luke 6:17-26, Jeremiah 17:5-10

 

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on February 16, 2025

[sermon begins after two long-ish Bible readings]

Jeremiah 17:5-10

Thus says the Lord:
Cursed are those who trust in mere mortals
and make mere flesh their strength,
whose hearts turn away from the Lord.
6 They shall be like a shrub in the desert,
and shall not see when relief comes.
They shall live in the parched places of the wilderness,
in an uninhabited salt land.

7 Blessed are those who trust in the Lord,
whose trust is the Lord.
8 They shall be like a tree planted by water,
sending out its roots by the stream.
It shall not fear when heat comes,
and its leaves shall stay green;
in the year of drought it is not anxious,
and it does not cease to bear fruit.

9 The heart is devious above all else;
it is perverse—
who can understand it?
10 I the Lord test the mind
and search the heart,
to give to all according to their ways,
according to the fruit of their doings.

Luke 6:17-26 [Jesus] came down with [the twelve] and stood on a level place, with a great crowd of his disciples and a great multitude of people from all Judea, Jerusalem, and the coast of Tyre and Sidon.18 They had come to hear him and to be healed of their diseases; and those who were troubled with unclean spirits were cured. 19 And all in the crowd were trying to touch him, for power came out from him and healed all of them.
20 Then he looked up at his disciples and said:
“Blessed are you who are poor,
for yours is the kingdom of God.
21 “Blessed are you who are hungry now,
for you will be filled.
“Blessed are you who weep now,
for you will laugh.
22 “Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. 23 Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets.
24 “But woe to you who are rich,
for you have received your consolation.
25 “Woe to you who are full now,
for you will be hungry.
“Woe to you who are laughing now,
for you will mourn and weep.
26 “Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.”

[sermon begins]

There was a super-sized football game last Sunday. I was a Philadelphia fan for the day. After cheering for Kansas City a few times when Denver wasn’t in the hunt (don’t hold it against me), I thought I’d give Philly a turn. I meant what I said a few weeks ago when the Broncos played their last game. I don’t always pray for football, but when I do, I pray that everyone plays their best game and that the calls are fair. The Super Bowl showed who brought their best game and who didn’t, regardless of the play calling. One team was ready to play their best game. The other team wasn’t. As I watched the triumph and the meltdown, I kept wondering about the backstory. Rob was the recipient of my wayward imagination as I came up with possibility after possibility as to why the meltdown was soooo melty. I was a bird fan for the day to spread the wins around, NOT to relish a full reversal of the fallen mighty.

I wondered if there were warning signs leading up to the game. Warnings can inspire adjustments toward a different outcome. But warnings are often wasted because it’s tough to have your logic challenged. Discrediting the messenger with a scathing eyeroll or stinging gossip is way easier. Similarly, Jesus’ likely didn’t deserve the contempt he received in response to his warnings either.

Warning is one way to think about what we hear today in the “woes” recorded in Luke’s gospel.[1] They are not curses. They’re more like an inevitable consequence when you think you’re an exception to the pain of this life. The word used in the Greek is more like a warning sound than a word.[2] Like, “ay-oh, oh-ay.” There are connections between the woe warnings that Jesus uses, and the language of woe used by Old Testament prophets. Prophets didn’t pull any rhetorical punches either. They wanted people to hear the inevitable conclusion to their current behavior and call people to repentance, to new ways of being in the world as God’s people. The woes that Jesus lays down are for those of us who are rich, full, laughing, or admired. Sure, we have options. We could roll our eyes and trash talk Jesus, wasting his warning for the wayward. OR we could let the warning of the woes settle over us. Let the warning of the woes challenge our skewed focus much like the prophets used to do. The prophet Jeremiah challenges his listeners not to trust in mere mortals but to be aware of our devious hearts that befuddle us. By extension, this means we can treat our own inherently wayward opinions and circumstances with a bit of mistrust; with a healthy, well-deserved dose of skepticism for our own limited thinking.

Since I started with the Super Bowl, let’s keep going. I’ll give one small example of what I mean by a healthy dose of skepticism for our own opinions. That small example being THE most watched Super Bowl halftime show in the history of Super Bowls. Right up front, I’ll confess my deficit when it comes to current rappers. Kendrick Lamar’s awards – including a Pulitzer and, like, a million Grammys – were news to me. But back in my high school days, rap was the music of the day. School busing had just ended from our east Altadena home to northwest Pasadena but I still attended with my older sister. It was one of the most successful examples of busing to diversify race and ethnicity within a student body. John Muir High School celebrates graduates the likes of baseball great Jackie Robinson, rocker David Lee Roth, novelist Octavia Butler, comedian Dax Shepherd, and more.[3]

There’s a documentary about my high school called “Can We All Get Along,” named after John Muir alumni Rodney King’s infamous plea during the Los Angeles riots.[4] When I attended Muir it was 89% kids of color – African-American, Asian-American, Armenian-American, Hispanic-American; and 11% White-American. I attended Muir in the early years of hip hop and rap. Lunch bands in the quad had a beat – bom, bom-bom, bom-bom, bom. Everybody walked to it. Our drum corps amplified it. Many danced to it. When Compton-born Kendrick Lamar started rapping, I started moving. Come to find out that the half-time show wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea. Opinions and reactions about it are flying fast and loose. Even faster flew the judgments ABOUT the justifications and self-justifications. Perhaps the warning of the woes could give us the courage to examine our own thinking with a healthy dose of skepticism, to not end up the hero of our own story at the expense of everyone else, to seek to understand rather than be understood.[5] To wonder why halftime dancers represented the flag as they did. To be curious about the streetscape that also looks like a prison yard. When we react against art, it can be an entrance to self-examination.

Jesus’ woes to the rich, full, laughing, and admired are an invitation into self-examination. But self-justification is the common instinct. We say things like, well, I’m not rich. Or I used to be poor. Or even more problematic, we try to justify why other people are NOT rich or full or laughing or admired as if they deserve their situation. It’s like we read the four blessings and the four woes listed by Jesus to see if we’re in the winner circle. In the meantime, while we’re justifying things all over the place for ourselves and other people, the opening verse of the reading says that “[Jesus] came down with [the twelve] and stood on a level place.”

The leveling language in Luke’s Gospel can catch us off guard because we only get Jesus’ Sermon on the Plain, on the level place, during Year C of the Lectionary Readings when Easter is almost as late in the Spring as it can be.[6] It’s only come up twice in Sunday’s worship readings in the last 20 years. While preparing and thinking about Jesus coming down to the level place, John the Baptist’s quotes from Isaiah came to mind about smoothing rough ways, filling valleys, and lowering mountains and hills.[7] Mary’s Magnificat also came to mind about bringing down the powerful and lifting up the lowly.[8] The leveling is NOT a reversal of bringing the low high and the high low only to change places and repeat the same bad news like the Super Bowl. Jesus’ Sermon on the Plain, on the level place, in Luke’s Gospel enacted what was proclaimed and sung by John the Baptist and Jesus’ mother Mary.

Jesus came down and stood on a level place with the twelve, and also with “a great crowd of disciples and a great multitude of people from all Judea, Jerusalem, and the coast of Tyre and Sidon.” Naming those locations meant that the crowds were full of Jews AND non-Jews known as the Gentiles. Crowds of people showed up from all over, some were Jesus followers, some were Jews, and some were Gentiles. It was chaos. People reaching out and touching Jesus. People unbound from the social norms of their day milling around together a level place. Leveling is the opposite of scapegoating.

Rene Girard was an atheist philosopher who converted to Christianity late in life after studying scapegoating and the Bible.[9] Girard expected to find consistencies in scapegoating between other ancient manuscripts and the Bible. Instead, he found the Bible unique in its rejection of it. Jesus was to be the ultimate and final scapegoat. To show us the error of our way at the cross and to show us the possibility of transformation by the resurrection. Jesus’ way.

The Gospel of Luke in general, and Jesus’ Sermon on the Plain, on the level place, in particular, is a prime example of how the Bible levels the highs and lows of social norms that we tend to describe as “just the way things are.” This is especially true in societies like ours where “the blessed” are often considered to be the rich or full or laughing or admired while “the woed” are the poor or hungry or weeping or reviled. We misinterpret blessings and woes as deserved and bestowed by God—justifying each person’s social location. The problem is that we end up treating our neighbors based on what we think they deserve rather than on the second greatest commandment after loving God—to love your neighbor as yourself.[10]

Jesus, preaching on the level place, names the blessings of the poor, hungry, weeping, and reviled not because of a far off someday but because he calls and invites us all to be a part of the leveling here on earth—seeing each other as human siblings over and above our fear of scarcity and our urge to scapegoat. The primitive urges that pit us against each other, hoping for the full reversal of another’s downfall. The good news is that Jesus levels the playing field as he meets us on the level place. Rather than recycle the same bad news with different teams of winners and losers, Jesus invites us into the good news of our shared humanity as beloved as children of God. Divisions can be healed by the power of Jesus’ death and resurrection. After all, the Way of Jesus is our way, too.

____________________________________________________

[1] Rolf Jacobson. Sermon Brainwave podcast #648—Sixth Sunday after Epiphany for February 17, 2019. https://www.workingpreacher.org/brainwave.aspx?podcast_id=1106

[2] Matt Skinner. Sermon Brainwave podcast #1008—Sixth Sunday after Epiphany for February 16, 2025. https://www.workingpreacher.org/podcasts/1008-sixth-sunday-after-epiphany-c-feb-16-2025

[3] www.ranker.com/list/famous-john-muir-high-school-alumni-and-students/reference

[4] Pablo Miralles, filmmaker and John Muir HS alumni. Can We All Get Along: The Segregation of John Muir High School. (2022) www.pbs.org/show/can-we-all-get-along-segregation-john-muir-high-school/

[5] A sound-bite from the Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi (Prayer for Peace)

[6] Easter is scheduled annually on the first Sunday after the first full moon occurring on or after the vernal equinox. https://www.timeanddate.com/calendar/determining-easter-date.html

[7] Luke 3:1-6

[8] Luke 1:52

[9] Pascal-Emmanuel Gobry. “The unlikely Christianity of René Girard” on November 10, 2015 for The Week (online). http://theweek.com/articles/587772/unlikely-christianity-ren-girard

[10] Mark 12:28–34; Matthew 22:34–40; Matthew 22:46; Luke 10:25–28

Preaching, Sermons

Love IS the Way Through [OR 1 Corinthians 13 Isn’t About a Wedding] Luke 5:1-11 and 1 Corinthians 13

 

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on February 9, 2025

[sermon begins after two long-ish Bible readings – hand in there, they’re worth reading]

1 Corinthians 13 If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. 2 And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. 3 If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.
4 Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant 5 or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; 6 it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. 7 It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
8 Love never ends. But as for prophecies, they will come to an end; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to an end. 9 For we know only in part, and we prophesy only in part; 10 but when the complete comes, the partial will come to an end. 11 When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways. 12 For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. 13 And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.

Luke 5:1-11 Once while Jesus was standing beside the lake of Gennesaret, and the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God, 2 he saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets. 3 He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little way from the shore. Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat. 4 When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.” 5 Simon answered, “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.” 6 When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break. 7 So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink. 8 But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” 9 For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken; 10 and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.” 11 When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.

[sermon begins]

I have seen a LOT of love over the last few days. The love of parents saying goodbye to their perfect newborn who didn’t survive pregnancy. The love of a family saying goodbye to their beloved 98-year-old matriarch. The love of a bride and groom beginning the adventure of marriage. In each of these moments, and for very different reasons, the love was overwhelming. The week was full of tears. Tears of inconsolable grief. Tears of a lifetime of memories and laughter. Tears of hopeful joy. Most of those tears belonged to other people and some of the tears were my own. My heart is broken and full.

In each of those three situations, I said that the Bible tells us that God IS love.[1] The love of a God who knows suffering personally and holds us closely when we suffer. The love of someone who helps us understand the smallest fraction of how much God must love us. And the love that fills our eyes with adoration, our bodies with awareness, and our hearts with hope. Alas, it’s terribly insufficient that we have only one word to use for this complex emotion. But in those stories that hit close to home, we can find it easier to understand love when we feel similar things in our own hearts’ experiences. It’s more difficult to hear the call of love when it’s not personal even though Jesus commands us to love our neighbor as ourselves in the Parable of the Good Samaritan.[2] He called this the second greatest commandment after loving God. And he calls us to love enemies, too.[3] Paul’s letter to the church in Corinth launches us into what love looks like beyond family ties.

Tucked in the middle of Paul’s teaching about spiritual gifts in 1 Corinthians, chapters 12 and 14, is this stunning section about love in chapter 13 – one of the most well-known parts of scripture because it’s often chosen as a reading at weddings. But Paul isn’t preaching at a wedding, he is writing to a brand-new church full of friendly strangers in a bustling cosmopolitan seaport town. This Corinthian church had been arguing among themselves about all kinds of things, setting up hierarchies of wealth, insiders and outsiders, spiritual gifts, and who’s leading whom. Paul’s letter opens in gratitude for these wayward, faithful people who were strangers to each other before following the way of Jesus. Paul unfolds a counter proposal to their hierarchies and their misbehavior around them. By nesting the love chapter within the spiritual gifts, Paul points to love as the reason for the gifts. Love is THE gift, the greatest of all. Our spiritual gifts are to illuminate love, not create barriers. To paraphrase Paul, if I sing like an angel but without love, I’m just making noise; if I can solve every mystery and have oodles of faith but no love, it amounts to nothing; and if I give everything I own away without love, nothing is gained.

Love is as counter cultural as it gets right now in the United States – especially in public. Rather than challenging each other’s ideas and arguing about best outcomes for all people, there are daily and even hourly offenses of dehumanizing hubris from public leaders and private citizens. Have you ever known shame to work as a strategy to get someone on your side? Ever? Telling people they don’t know their own minds. Calling them names. Picking apart their motives. None of that works and only further divides. As Rev. Dr. King said, “Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that.”  Paul called his church folks to practice love based on Christ’s example because what they’d been doing was taking them down the wrong road.

At the same time, love is not ‘going along to get along.’ It’s neither unity through muting differences, nor is it giving up on finding solutions to problems because it’s too hard. Love speaks up. Love shows up. Love means that each person is valuable. No one is expendable. As Black History Month reminds us, oppression dehumanizes both the targeted victims and the violent perpetrators. Chattel slavery of African people by white immigrant Americans was ended by a Civil War that was costly in human lives and in money. As recent federal accusations and the defunding of Lutheran Family Services remind us, advocacy work alongside those most deeply affected by poverty, displacement, and migration is ever present. This congregation that was founded by Swedish immigrants has long ties with Lutheran Family Services. Many of our families and friendships were formed through their adoption support and immigration support. Jesus calls us to a love that bridges across difference for the sake of the widow, the orphan, and the stranger. The behavior of love that’s in person. First and foremost, in the person of Jesus on a cross. Jesus lived his life constantly expanding the circle that people use to limit who’s in and who’s out for their own personal gain.

He ate meals with unlovable people, he had public conversations with women no one spoke to, he had secret conversations with religious leaders who opposed him by day, the list of his ever-expanding circle of grace is endless. Finally, when the threat of his grace, the threat about who is included in the love of God, became too great, he was killed for it. Grace and unconditional love were too powerful, too much of a threat to the status quo. Yet, when one of Jesus’ friends tried to fight off the guards arresting him, Jesus said, “Enough!” [4] Jesus raised his hand in healing at the time of his arrest, not violence, and opened his arms on the cross to all people, even the criminal who hung next to him.[5]

We never get these ways of Jesus completely right. Faith gives us the courage to try. In faith, and by the cross, we’re given the freedom to try and fail and try again, always in the interest of loving our neighbors as ourselves.

The cross is also 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 – our deepest darkest places that we don’t tell anyone about. Simon Peter knows a little about the deep. He was one of the fishers whom Jesus told to cast their nets into the deep. The scariest part of the sea that everyone knew held the scariest things. The nets came back full of fish. Too many too count. The nets started to break, and the boats started to sink. The abundance amazed them all. Simon Peter was so overwhelmed that “he fell down at Jesus’ knees saying, ‘Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!’” Peter’s awe collapsed his assumptions and he and his friends left everything to follow Jesus whose abundant love is that life changing.

Love is a behavior. Love is patient. Love is kind. Love rejoices in the truth. Love bears, believes, hopes, and endures all things. Responding in love is a choice. Love takes practice. One of the things we do as Jesus followers is practice God’s love through Jesus, imitating it, reminding each other about it, and being open to the transformation it can bring. Like Simon Peter, we confess our sin, the truth of our flaws and fragility, and God’s abundant love given in return as forgiveness. We listen to scripture and the preacher’s interpretation. We welcome children and listen to them. We share peace and then we share the communion meal to which everyone is invited, even the newest visitor among us may come to Christ’s table of bread and wine. We sing in prayer and praise to God who knows us fully and has always loved us because God loves the world.

God loves us first. From God’s promise of love, we’re asked to practice God’s love with each other, our neighbors and our enemies. A patient, kind, and truthful love that bears, believes, hopes, and endures all things – the greatest of all gifts indeed. It’s courageous love that takes action alongside the least among us who have little to no power on their own.

To paraphrase Paul, speaking without love ends up being a whole lot of noise for a whole lot of nothing that ends up hurting a whole lot of people. Some of us have tasted this love that Paul is talking about. We’ve experienced the grace of the gospel in the unconditional love of Jesus that means there’s nothing we can do or not do to make God love us any more or any less. It’s deeply personal and it transforms our lives. I first heard this gospel when I was 28 years old. 12 years ago last Sunday, I was ordained as a pastor. You just never know what the gospel is going to do with you once it’s had its way transforming hearts with love that bears, believes, hopes, and endures all things.

When Jesus calls us into discipleship, to follow him as people catchers, we’re called by his love into love to also call others with love. Love is the Way through.

_________________________________-

[1] 1 John 4:16b God is love.

[2] Luke 10:25-37 Parable of the Good Samaritan

[3] Luke 6:27 [Jesus said] “But I say to you, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you.”

[4] Luke 22:49-51 Jesus said, “No more of this!” And he touched his ear and healed him.

[5] Luke 23:32-34 Father, forgive them; for they know not what they are doing.

Preaching, Sermons

Jesus is at the Party [OR Joy and Suffering Coexist in Fires, Ceasefires & MLK Day] John 2:1-11

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on January 19, 2025

[sermon begins after the Bible story]

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

[sermon begins]

The Wedding at Cana is one of my favorite Bible stories that also happens to be in my favorite book in the Bible – the gospel according to John. Most people, even if they’re not Christians, have a vague sense that water was turned into wine. They might even know that Jesus miraculously turned that water into wine. It’s less likely that people know that water was turned to wine at a wedding party full of drunk guests. That doesn’t sound like the Bible as people imagine it to be. But it does sound like the Bible because here it is, right here. Jesus was at a wedding with his mom and his friends. Wedding parties that ran out of wine were shameful. When the wine ran out, Jesus’ mother pulled the mom card. She didn’t take no for an answer and Jesus made the best wine ever.

Jesus’ obedience to his mother may be more difficult to believe than the supernatural sign. Or his obedience more confusing than the connection between the Hebrew scripture and God’s covenant with God’s people that’s compared to marriage vows. Or his obedience more unbelievable than a wine steward running out of bad wine to serve drunk wedding guests. (Do those drunk people really need more wine?) Or maybe even harder to believe than Jesus’ obedience is that he was at a party where joy, laughter, and hope were in abundance along with the fine wine he produced. That certainly wasn’t the Jesus of the Christian church in which I was raised and taught.

The church building that I grew up in burned down last week in the Eaton fire in Altadena, California. Up until a week and a half ago, I told people that I grew up in Pasadena because no one knew where Altadena was. Now Altadena has the headline. Not because it was a uniquely diverse place to grow up and not because of its historic architecture. But because a lot of it sits in ashes after the Eaton fire. My brother evacuated from the Palisades fire. My stepsiblings were evacuated from Altadena. Their homes still stand while neighbors next door on the same street lost theirs. Messages, photos, and news videos are still exchanged and forwarded to each other. One of the pictures is the burned-out hull of that church, cinderblock walls standing guard around the spaces where I learned to sing hymns acapella, where the older women of the congregation would reach out and hug me as I walked by, and where I taught Bible lessons on felt boards to the littlest children. It was also where only men were allowed to preach, baptize, and preside at communion, where dancing and alcohol were prohibited, and where God’s judgment was bigger than God’s grace. When I left home, I decided that Jesus was no fun at a party, so I didn’t take him with me. No way.

But then we come to find out, yes way! Jesus was at a wedding where joy and celebration abound. His mother and friends were there, too. It’s an epic party where the wine is flowing until it runs out. The celebration seems fitting.  Jesus’ ministry is revealed by the events at this wedding. During a party like this one, I can imagine someone saying, “I feel like I shouldn’t be having fun when there is so much suffering in the world.” I can imagine it because people say it to me fairly regularly at parties, no less. It’s harder to allow joy when pain and grief assail us as faraway fires or military bombs decimate bodies and entire neighborhoods of friends, family, and strangers alike. Even as the ceasefire begins today in Gaza between Israel and Hamas, the relief does not erase the trauma of bombs, death, and grief for Palestinians and Jews. Joy somehow feels wrong, like a betrayal of our own or other people’s pain.

It is in this tension between joy and suffering that the Wedding at Cana really shines. Jesus is at a wedding celebration. He embodies grace smack in the middle of it. His presence and activity at the wedding do NOT obscure the very real problem of Roman oppression or the pain that is experienced in everyday life. In the wedding story, Jesus is an example of celebrating life in spite of Rome and in spite of day-to-day suffering. He is also more than an example.

Turning water into wine and other things happening at the Wedding at Cana points us somewhere even as it echoes back from somewhere. When I preach this story at weddings and funerals, I often use the word “echoes” to describe what’s happening between the wedding celebration and Jesus’ death on the cross. Some of the words in the wedding story echo back from the cross. The story itself begins “On the third day” which echoes Jesus’ resurrection.[1]  Jesus refers to his “hour not yet come.” In the Gospel of John, Jesus’ hour refers to the time that he will hang on a cross.[2]  Even the tasty wedding wine itself echoes back from the sour wine given to quench Jesus’ thirst on the cross.[3]  Jesus’ mother is not named in the Gospel of John.  She is called “the mother of Jesus.”  She shows up in the gospel only twice – once at the Wedding at Cana and then again at the cross.[4]  Jesus’ mother is another echo. From his first sign of turning water into wine, the cross is already in play.  Suffering is on the horizon.  And curiously, Jesus is at a party.

The Wedding at Cana is how life works. There are moments of joy and there are moments of suffering. Neither joy nor suffering are completely absent while the other is present. Both are human. Both are faithful. I want to be clear here that I’m not talking about blind optimism in the face of suffering. As if everything is fine despite all evidence to the contrary. I’m talking about faithful joy in the gift of life while being honest about the truth of suffering and working to alleviate it as Jesus calls us to do.

Jesus is at a party where the wine steward knows how things usually work in the world. After Jesus turns the water into wine, the wine steward goes to the bridegroom and says, “Everyone serves the good wine after the guests have become drunk; but you have kept the good wine until now.” I read this as the place where sin shows up in the story. “Everyone” tries to hide what they’re doing and get away with substandard wine late in their wedding celebrations. The con is the norm. But not this time. Not this wedding. Not this Jesus. This Jesus is totally worth taking to the party. Like the wine steward, we expect that people will protect their own interests at the expense of people who are unaware of the decisions made at their expense. Jesus’ turning water into wine toward the end of the wedding party reverses how things often work in the world. Jesus’ sign reverses the selfishness that we expect as normal.

Tomorrow this country celebrates Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s life and ministry.  He stands among the saints as an example of reversing accepted cultural norms of racism and poverty through a multi-faith and multi-race movement. He believed people could do better in the face of black people suffering at the hands of white people. He believed that oppression makes everyone less than human – victims and perpetrators alike. Rev. Dr. King believed this from a place of faith that is unequivocal about God loving the world which, by definition, means black people. And God’s love for black people inspired a movement of human dignity that continues through today. A multi-race, multi-faith movement that continues to reverse the cultural norms of racism and poverty. Rev. Dr. King believed and acted from a place of faith. And he lived in joy while being honest about suffering and our own hand in it. He said, “It is cheerful to God when you rejoice or laugh from the bottom of your heart.”[5] This from a man who experienced raw suffering as racist cultural norms were viciously protected. Joy would not be stolen by ignorant harm or malicious injury. Joy is celebrated as victory and as a right of the human spirit.

We sing songs and pray prayers of praise, joy, and thanksgiving in worship today as our bodies face the cross. Our worship mirrors the tension between joy and suffering at the Wedding at Cana. Our worship mirrors life. Life that Jesus gives as he shows up with us in both celebration and suffering. Jesus gives life by way of his own life. Life that showed up in the skin of a baby. Life that laughs and dances with joy at a wedding party. Life that knows suffering. Life that self-sacrifices for the sake of the world. Life that is given for you despite your own efforts to live on your own terms. That’s the promise God makes to you. Jesus is at the party. Let’s celebrate. Alleluia and amen.

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[1] John 21:11-20

[2] John 16:32

[3] John 19:28-29

[4] John 19:25-27

[5] Martin Luther King Jr.  http://martinlutherkingjrquotes.org/martin-luther-king-jr-quotes-bootstraps.html

Preaching, Sermons

Holding Space and Being Held on Christmas Eve – Luke 2:1-20

**sermon art: Guatemalan Nativity by John Giuliani (1990s)

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on December 24, 2024 at 11 a.m., 3 p.m., 5 p.m., and 7 p.m.

[sermon begins after the Bible story of Christmas – it’s 20 verses, hang in there]

Luke 2:1-20  In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. 2 This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. 3 All went to their own towns to be registered. 4 Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. 5 He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. 6 While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. 7 And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.

  8 In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. 9 Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. 10 But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: 11 to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. 12 This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” 13 And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying,
14 “Glory to God in the highest heaven,
and on earth peace among those whom he favors!”
15 When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” 16 So they went with haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the child lying in the manger. 17 When they saw this, they made known what had been told them about this child; 18 and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds told them. 19 But Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart. 20 The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.

 

[sermon begins]

Has it ever happened to you that someone suddenly handed you a baby and said, “Here, hold them for a second?” You and the baby stare at each other in shock and wonder what just happened. There’s a little bit of panic on both sides to see how this is going to go. As a pediatric nurse and now a pastor, these baby-holding times can be as daunting as they are precious. A startled baby can be tricky. In related news, I DO often ask if littles are willing to BE held. Just last week, a one-year-old let me hold her for a bit while her parents and I talked about her baptism. She was squishy and solid and clamped onto my shoulder and hip in the way of one-year-olds. She was also herself – wide-eyed, thoughtful, super chill, taking everything in. The four of us walked into this Sanctuary with her still in my arms, and I showed her the baptismal font. IT. WAS. AWESOME! And it made me think about holding space and being held.

There was nothing but space out in the fields where the shepherds were keeping their sheep. Wide open space for the sheep to eat and the shepherds to sleep. Until…until…awakened in terror by light shattering the certainty of the dark night, their wide-open space descended upon by the angel who woke them up, told them not to be afraid, and announced good news of great JOY for ALL the people. News SO good that they raced to Bethlehem to see this good news baby for themselves and to tell his mom and dad all about it.

Mary began her adventure as Jesus’ mom by consenting to hold space for a pregnancy of epic proportions. Orthodox Christians call Mary, Theotokos, which means God-bearer. Her body literally expanded and stretched to hold the divine. How daring and determined and fierce Mary must have been to hold space for Love to be risked and shaped and birthed. While Joseph’s mind and heart expanded and stretched to hold space for his new bride and his adopted son.

Then there was the space to be born. Room with the animals. Space in their feeding trough, the manger, to hold the newborn Jesus who embodied God’s Love. A manger made by human hands would be imperfect, a sliver here and a splintered peg there. But the manger would perfectly reveal the Love that was born on Christmas – “A baby, wrapped in bands of cloth, and lying in manger.” The manger is much like the Bible in which the story of Jesus’ birth is told. A sacred story written by human hands, imperfect but revealing the Christ perfectly. The manger and scripture holding space in and around them for human imperfection to meet the unconditional grace of divine Love. Holding space to reveal Jesus, the One who made God’s Love real in his ministry on earth. The One who leads us to love God and to love our neighbors as ourselves.

Perhaps a more immediate and literally concrete example of holding space would help us get the gist of it. Just down the street, on donated land from this congregation, Augustana Homes are being built by Habitat for Humanity and hundreds of volunteers from around the city. Affordable homes that hold space in the form of three-to-four-bedroom townhomes for working families to call home. Going from a baby born in a manger because there was no room in the inn, to families who will have a way into homeownership, may be a leap of faith, but it also makes perfect sense when told alongside the Christmas story.

On Christmas, holding space and being held happen simultaneously. We are held in this moment in time. We could be anywhere else, and yet we are here. There are many reasons to end up at church on Christmas Eve. As many reasons as there are people here. Maybe it’s your habit or annual tradition. Maybe it’s easier to be here with family than to be somewhere else without family. Maybe your family is fractured, and you wandered in wondering if community can be found. Maybe your faith calls you here in gratitude. Maybe your life has become such a hot mess that church on Christmas Eve feels like a last-ditch attempt to find a way through. Maybe the peace of candlelight is good for your heart. Or maybe you just simply love the collective effervescence of singing together in this Sanctuary.

Whatever draws you here in this moment in time, you are held in the cradle of this Sanctuary. Sacred space where thousands of people have gathered across time for baptisms, weddings, funerals, Christmases, Easters, and Sunday mornings. Sinner-saints held by a sacred space as we gather to remind each other of what’s so easy to forget in the anxiety of life, the disarray of politics, and the competition of culture. We remind each other that God’s welcome through this congregation includes everyone. At a time when the surgeon general declared an epidemic of loneliness, we are a community of hope, who support each other through suffering as we celebrate our joys and serve locally and globally. Being human is complicated. Being yourself shouldn’t be. You are welcome here.

If even that is too much to get our heads around, let’s try our hands. When you come forward for communion, your hands held together and facing up make a manger of sorts as you hold space for the bread given to you, imperfectly cradling Jesus’ presence with hands that may have a sliver here or a bent finger there, and with fragile bodies as we eat. Despite our imperfections or, just maybe, because of them, the perfect presence of Jesus dwells within us, and we are held by the One who taught us that there is nothing we can do or not do to make God love us any more or any less. This is definitely good news of great joy for all people, which also means that it is good news for you. Merry Christmas!