Tag Archives: love

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on September 8, 2024

[sermon begins after two Bible readings]

Mark 7:24-37 [Jesus] set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice,²⁵but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet. ²⁶Now the woman was a Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin. She begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter. ²⁷He said to her, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” ²⁸But she answered him, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” ²⁹Then he said to her, “For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter.” ³⁰So she went home, found the child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.
³¹Then he returned from the region of Tyre, and went by way of Sidon towards the Sea of Galilee, in the region of the Decapolis. ³²They brought to him a deaf man who had an impediment in his speech; and they begged him to lay his hand on him. ³³He took him aside in private, away from the crowd, and put his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue. ³⁴Then looking up to heaven, he sighed and said to him, “Ephphatha,” that is, “Be opened.” ³⁵And immediately his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly. ³⁶Then Jesus ordered them to tell no one; but the more he ordered them, the more zealously they proclaimed it. ³⁷They were astounded beyond measure, saying, “He has done everything well; he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak.”

James 7:1-10, 14-17 My brothers and sisters, do you with your acts of favoritism really believe in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ? ²For if a person with gold rings and in fine clothes comes into your assembly, and if a poor person in dirty clothes also comes in, ³and if you take notice of the one wearing the fine clothes and say, “Have a seat here, please,” while to the one who is poor you say, “Stand there,” or, “Sit at my feet,” ⁴have you not made distinctions among yourselves, and become judges with evil thoughts? ⁵Listen, my beloved brothers and sisters. Has not God chosen the poor in the world to be rich in faith and to be heirs of the kingdom that he has promised to those who love him? ⁶But you have dishonored the poor. Is it not the rich who oppress you? Is it not they who drag you into court? ⁷Is it not they who blaspheme the excellent name that was invoked over you?
⁸You do well if you really fulfill the royal law according to the scripture, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” ⁹But if you show partiality, you commit sin and are convicted by the law as transgressors. ¹⁰For whoever keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become accountable for all of it.
¹⁴What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but do not have works? Can faith save you? ¹⁵If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, ¹⁶and one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill,” and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that? ¹⁷So faith by itself, if it has no

[sermon begins]

A couple Sundays ago, we sang to Charlie after her baptism:

♫ Raindrops, oceans, lakes, and rivers, welcome child of God.

Mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, welcome child of God.

When the world feels wide around you, when the dark of night surrounds you,

We are here to tend and guide you, welcome child of God. ♫

Pure gospel comfort. Those words. The lullaby-esque tune. The sweet sweet sound of so many of us singing together to the newly baptized. Whether 9 days or 99 years old, baptism is a powerful moment. We hear our truest name – child of God. “Child of God, you have been sealed by the power of the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever.” Child of God claimed and named by the God who is Love.[1]

Children of God grouped together are called the church. Ooof, that’s a bumpy landing The church, God’s utterly imperfect instrument of God’s movement in the world. Not God’s only instrument. There are lots of Bible stories about God working and moving wherever God wills, through whomever God calls. The church is never the only way God works. Phew, thanks be to God. But the church is a primary way that God works. Celebrating the grace of God, we are set apart for God’s purposes and called the church. One of those purposes is to comfort. To hold other people in God’s tender mercies. To be a people healed by Jesus at the soul level. To be compassionate and self-sacrificing.

Healed by the light of Christ way deep down in our darkest places, we become able to shine God’s loving light. A loving light that fills us with hope Sunday to Sunday, sustaining us through the pain in our own lives and the pain in the world. A loving light that we can share with other people in pain who may never again darken the door of a church. People whose church experiences haven’t gone well. Those of us who still go to church or have returned to the church have friends and family who resemble this remark. Their stories are difficult. Pain inflicted by well-intended Jesus-people is bad enough. Pain inflicted by malicious people in the name of Jesus is anathema to the way of Jesus. Our experience and example as church people, as Jesus’ people, mean hope for a hurting world. Especially in a world struggling with division, pain, and suffering.

“God’s work. Our hands.” Sunday implicates our church hands whether at work or school or hanging out with friends or repackaging rice and beans for Metro Caring’s grocery shelves.[2] It doesn’t get much more “God’s work. Our hands.” than Jesus’ second greatest commandment, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Jesus’ second greatest commandment, found in the Bible’s gospel books of Matthew, Mark, AND Luke, is quoted in the James’ reading today.[3] Except, here in James, it’s called “the royal law.” And goes on to say that “faith without works is dead.” This is a harsh teaching. Like I said last Sunday, if you were handed the book of James as your introduction to the Bible, it might give you pause. Even Martin Luther rejected James for its lack of explicit grace.

Regardless of Luther’s frustration with it, the book of James has its place in the Bible. It has its place when the need around us becomes too much, and the pressure collapses us inward towards despair – immobilizing the church in fear. The book of James has its place when our faith becomes a wall, blocking out other people for any reason. James is the persuasion that we sometimes need to keep going on behalf of our neighbor. It holds our faith accountable. James brooks no argument and accepts no excuses about faith revealed in good works. The implicit grace in James is that God’s law must be about love because other books in the Bible say that “God is love.” God’s love embedded in God’s law curbs the worst of our behavior and calls us into God’s good work of love in the world. Active, meaningful tasks are the very antidote for despair.[4] They don’t have to be grand gestures although those are cool. Augustana Homes being built down the street as affordable homes for families probably fit that category, as do rice and beans repackaging.[5] Mostly, God’s work is quiet, behind-the-scenes stuff – showing up for a friend in crisis, welcoming a stranger, feeding someone who’s hungry, donating blood to save a life…

Like our ancestors in the faith who wrote the Bible, today’s Christians often disagree about what God’s work in the world looks like. Interpretations of parables and stories vary wildly. Take James’ high standards for faithful good works and Mark’s story about Jesus and the Syrophoenician woman. To hear James tell it, the only way to live out Jesus’ call to us is by the purest good works on behalf of the neighbor in Jesus’ name. But the story in Mark argues that God’s purposes are manifested in the actions of unexpected people without a confession of faith.

The Syrophoenician woman was a Greek by religion and language who lived at the seashore miles away from Galilee where Jesus and his disciples were from. The Gospel of Matthew says she was a Canaanite but we’re not going to get hung up on that discrepancy.[6] (Although, it’d be fun to argue whether or not that’s an important distinction.) The woman was a Gentile, a non-Jew, desperate for Jesus’ help to heal of her critically ill daughter. Jesus knew just what to say to draw this woman into speaking her mind.

Some people, including me, find it difficult to think that Jesus needed to learn anything and prefer thinking that Jesus had the whole interaction figured out as a teaching moment for his disciples. After all, he is the embodiment of a loving God and the way he calls her a dog sounds incredibly offensive. Regardless, she didn’t confess Jesus as Lord. She bowed to him and then argued that even dogs eat the crumbs that fall from the kids’ table. That was it. Does her faithful act of challenging Jesus qualify as a good work according to James? Jesus healed her daughter because of what she said. It’s such an odd and offensive story that theologians will likely debate it until kingdom come. Theology debates are fun and intense. But if all we do is talk, our neighbors, the ones we’re called to love, become obscured in the dust and debris of debate and help for them never sees the light of day much less the light of God.

One thing seems clear though. Jesus had an ever-expanding ministry that included unlikely people. It’s why some of us respond to the royal law in James, to love your neighbor as yourself, as the cross-laden hill we’re willing to die on. It’s the work we think Jesus calls us into through stories like the desperate Syrophoenician woman and her demon afflicted daughter.

There is going to be occasional conflict about what being a Jesus follower means or how we as the church work together to be God’s hands in the world or if it’s even right for us to try. Some of us may be more comfortable working with our neighbors in poverty. Some of us may be ready to dive into advocacy and legislative efforts. Some of us may have gifts for showing up for people in crisis. The list goes on and on. Regardless of specific tasks, it’s worth walking with the question as a church. Jesus is bigger than our arguments about what God’s work looks like and greater than our limited capacity to live it out in Christ-shaped lives. Which brings us back to love.

The wonder of this small, revolving planet that sustains our lives makes it hard to fathom how much God must love us. Us. Broken, misbehaving wonders of creation. Created good yet challenged to be good. Beloved yet disbelieving just how much we are loved. Our identity as baptized children of God means daily dying to the way we hurt ourselves and each other and rising into the way of Jesus who was the embodiment of God’s love. The world can feel way too wide and nights oh so terribly dark. We, the church, are called to tend and guild in faith, hope, and love. “God’s work. Our hands.” Sunday reminds us to look to Jesus’ ways of loving our neighbors as ourselves wherever we encounter each other because we have been loved first by God.

Thanks be to God and amen.

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[1] 1 John 4:16a.

[2] www.metrocaring.org

[3] Jesus’ second greatest commandment can be found in Matthew 22:39, Mark 12:31, and Luke 10:27.

[4] Adam Grant. “There’s a Name for the Blah You’re Feeling: It’s Called Languishing. New York Times: April 19, 2021. Feeling Blah During the Pandemic? It’s Called Languishing – The New York Times (nytimes.com)

[5] www.augustanadenver.org/augustana-homes/

[6] Matthew 15:22

Preaching, Sermons

Everyone Eats at Jesus’ Table [OR Last Supper? Bacchanalia? Does it Matter?] John 6:35, 41-51

August 11, 2024 caitlin121608

**sermon photo: X user @kylenabecker

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on August 11, 2024

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

1 Kings 19:4-8 [Elijah] went a day’s journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a solitary broom tree. He asked that he might die: “It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my ancestors.”⁵Then he lay down under the broom tree and fell asleep. Suddenly an angel touched him and said to him, “Get up and eat.” ⁶He looked, and there at his head was a cake baked on hot stones, and a jar of water. He ate and drank, and lay down again. ⁷The angel of the Lord came a second time, touched him, and said, “Get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you.” ⁸He got up, and ate and drank; then he went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights to Horeb the mount of God.

John 6:35, 41-51 Jesus said to [the crowd,] “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”
⁴¹Then the Jews began to complain about him because he said, “I am the bread that came down from heaven.” ⁴²They were saying, “Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How can he now say, ‘I have come down from heaven’?” ⁴³Jesus answered them, “Do not complain among yourselves. ⁴⁴No one can come to me unless drawn by the Father who sent me; and I will raise that person up on the last day. ⁴⁵It is written in the prophets, ‘And they shall all be taught by God.’ Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me. ⁴⁶Not that anyone has seen the Father except the one who is from God; he has seen the Father. ⁴⁷Very truly, I tell you, whoever believes has eternal life. ⁴⁸I am the bread of life. ⁴⁹Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. ⁵⁰This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. ⁵¹I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”

[sermon begins]

Jesus said, “I am the bread of life.” He didn’t just say it once. He kept saying it. (Hence why this sixth chapter of John is often called The Bread of Life Discourse.)[1] Adding fuel to his carb-loaded speech, Jesus also said that that he was “living bread from heaven.” The crowd couldn’t understand. Generations of Jews recite a daily prayer in good faith that only God is God and God is One.[2] For Jesus to self-identify using THE divine “I AM” statement, the same “I AM” name used by God with Moses. Moses was to tell the people of Israel that, “I AM has sent me to you.”[3] When Jesus was feeding 5,000 of them a few verses ago in this same sixth chapter of John, the crowd of Jews were ready to enthrone Jesus as king. But calling himself “I AM?!!” That crossed the line. No wonder they were complaining. This was tough stuff. They couldn’t accept it from Jesus. But not because God wasn’t already a sustaining God in scripture.

The crowd knew the ancestral stories from past generations like God’s provision of manna from heaven for Moses and the people Israel, and like God’s provision for Elijah when he fell into despair after fleeing Queen Jezebel who wanted to kill him. He was full of fear and more than ready to die under that broom tree. He preferred a quiet death over the one that the Queen would inflict. God’s angels woke Elijah up from his nap and fed him cake baked on desert stones. Elijah’s story is a good reminder to sleep and snack when things seem at their most bleak. More importantly, it’s a reminder that God has long been a sustaining God through the covenant given to the Jews that expanded to become the covenant given through Jesus to Gentiles, non-Jews.

It’s the new covenant that is the sticking point for the crowds around Jesus. Three Sundays ago, the sixth chapter of John’s gospel, Jesus met their 5,000 immediate needs and quieted their hunger pangs. Last Sunday, Jesus and the people talked about their ongoing need for food and the security it brings. It’s well known that you must feed people before anything else can happen. If people are hungry, they cannot absorb information. The arc of the Bread of Life Discourse started with their immediate needs and then moved towards their ongoing needs.[4] The third move from Jesus is about eternal life. In John’s gospel, eternal life is layered with abiding which is layered with believing which is layered with relationship. Jesus uses all these words – eternal life, abiding, believing, and relationship – to convey the intimate relationship that Jesus has with the Father who is the eternal One.[5] It’s their abiding relationship, their oneness, that we are also drawn into because of Jesus, the bread of life from heaven.

Some of you may know about a particular controversy during the Opening Ceremony of the Olympic Games in Paris.[6] It was a raucous scene of colorful, flamboyant people sitting behind a long table. The central figure wore a crown and was the D.J. for a dance party. When I saw it, I thought, huh, the Last Supper, that’s a different take on it. I know enough to be dangerous when it comes to serious art and my mind connected the Opening Ceremony scene to Da Vinci’s painting, “Last Supper.”[7] Turns out, that wasn’t the intention of the producers of that scene. Their goal was an homage to the original Roman Bacchanalia festivals celebrating the Greek God Bacchus. But at the end of the day, it didn’t matter what their intention was because some Christians reacted strongly against the scene. Things got ugly across the social medias. The complaining was loud. The reaction that followed was neither patient nor kind. But I’d like to pause, two weeks after the Opening Ceremony, and wonder about the collective Christian imagination that did see the Lord’s Supper taking place on that Paris bridge. That colorful, joyous scene and all that followed was a missed opportunity to talk about what the Lord’s Supper does and why the bread of life is holy to those of us who receive it and are transformed by it, and that everyone is welcome at Jesus’ table.

Jesus said, “I AM the bread of life.” The same Jesus who came into the world that God so loved and explicitly said that he didn’t come to condemn the world.[8] But it didn’t take long for Jesus followers to begin condemning the world rather than loving it. I’m curious about what that means in terms of the people we can’t imagine he would include in his promises and how we justify our words and behavior condemning them. Our Savior is the bread of life, the “I AM” who abides with us, bringing us into full communion with the eternal One, transforming our hearts to love the world with his heart. Now that’s a promise to rest in, hope for, and act upon.

How then should we act? The Ephesians reading offers us life-giving actions to practice. Apparently, the Ephesian church needed a lot of practice to live in unity across their different perspectives. Perhaps they are a good example for our times, our nation, and our world, especially when some Christian siblings and sometimes even we think that defending the faith means holding people in contempt rather than compassion. This sounds incredibly appealing for what ails us. Hear my paraphrase of the reading:

Be angry but don’t sin. Work honestly to have something to share with those in need. Speak no evil. Speak only grace-filled words that build up. Put away bitterness, wrath, anger, wrangling, slander, and all malice. Be kind, tenderhearted, and forgive as Christ forgives you. Imitate God, you beloved children, and live in love as Christ loved us – Christ who gave himself up for us.

Those words make a wonderful world sound possible. It also sounds a little like a kindergarten lesson that never quite stuck in our time of cheap talk and online bullying at every level of society including political discourse.[9] It’s one thing to talk theoretically about Paris and it’s quite another to practice what we’re called to be as Jesus followers. The practice starts here. In our congregation. With each other. Saying things that we need to say across our differences. Speaking truth from each perspective and hearing each other in love. Our Augustana congregation is a kind one. The welcome people experience here is real. People comment on it. It’s observable. But kindness serves truth, not the other way around. The goal isn’t to avoid conflict. The goal is to consider different perspectives as information so that anger doesn’t win the moment. That takes practice.

Righteous anger feels so good that it’s hard to know when the line crosses into condemnation and evil. It’s why Christianity is a group project across many denominations. We’re bound to each other but also freed by Christ to faithfully fail, forgive ourselves and each other, and faithfully try again as we practice speaking truth in love.[10] God doesn’t need defending. God’s big enough to handle whatever the world throws around when we know not what we do.[11]

We need God’s love just like the rest of the world.

Thank God that Jesus IS the bread of life, abiding and eternal, and there IS plenty enough to share.

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[1] Karoline Lewis, Professor and the Marbury E. Anderson Chair of Biblical Preaching, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Sermon Brainwave podcast about Bible readings for Sunday, August 11, 2024. #977: Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost (Ord. 19B) – Aug. 11, 2024 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[2] The Shema: An affirmation of God’s singularity, its daily recitation is regarded by traditionally observant Jews as a Biblical commandment. myjewishlearning.com/article/the-shema/

[3] Exodus 3:14

[4] Matt Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Sermon Brainwave podcast about Bible readings for Sunday, August 11, 2024. #977: Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost (Ord. 19B) – Aug. 11, 2024 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[5] Ibid., Lewis

[6] Jack Izzo, 7/30/2024, Olympic Opening Ceremony Featured da Vinci’s ‘Last Supper’? (msn.com)

[7] Isabella Mayer, Art in Context: The Last Supper Da Vinci – A Glimpse into The Last Supper Painting, August 1, 2023. The Last Supper Da Vinci – A Glimpse into The Last Supper Painting (artincontext.org)

[8] John 3:16-17

[9] Ibid, Skinner.

[10] Ephesians 4:15

[11] Luke 23:34 [Jesus from the cross] “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

__________________________________________________

Ephesians 4:25-5:2 So then, putting away falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another. ²⁶Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, ²⁷and do not make room for the devil. ²⁸Thieves must give up stealing; rather let them labor and work honestly with their own hands, so as to have something to share with the needy. ²⁹Let no evil talk come out of your mouths, but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear. ³⁰And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with which you were marked with a seal for the day of redemption. ³¹Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, ³²and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you. ^5:¹Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, ²and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.

Preaching, Sermons

Glorious Grace [OR Christians in a Country that Separates Church from State] Mark 6, Ephesians 1, and Amos 7

July 14, 2024 caitlin121608

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on July 14, 2024

[sermon begins after two Bible readings; reading from Amos is at the end of the sermon]

Mark 6:14-29 King Herod heard of [the disciples’ preaching,] for Jesus’ name had become known. Some were saying, “John the baptizer has been raised from the dead; and for this reason these powers are at work in him.” ¹⁵ But others said, “It is Elijah.” And others said, “It is a prophet, like one of the prophets of old.” ¹⁶ But when Herod heard of it, he said, “John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.”
¹⁷ For Herod himself had sent men who arrested John, bound him, and put him in prison on account of Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife, because Herod had married her. ¹⁸ For John had been telling Herod, “It is not lawful for you to have your brother’s wife.” ¹⁹ And Herodias had a grudge against him, and wanted to kill him. But she could not, ²⁰ for Herod feared John, knowing that he was a righteous and holy man, and he protected him. When he heard him, he was greatly perplexed; and yet he liked to listen to him. ²¹ But an opportunity came when Herod on his birthday gave a banquet for his courtiers and officers and for the leaders of Galilee. ²² When his daughter Herodias came in and danced, she pleased Herod and his guests; and the king said to the girl, “Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give it.” ²³ And he solemnly swore to her, “Whatever you ask me, I will give you, even half of my kingdom.” ²⁴ She went out and said to her mother, “What should I ask for?” She replied, “The head of John the baptizer.” ²⁵ Immediately she rushed back to the king and requested, “I want you to give me at once the head of John the Baptist on a platter.” ²⁶ The king was deeply grieved; yet out of regard for his oaths and for the guests, he did not want to refuse her. ²⁷ Immediately the king sent a soldier of the guard with orders to bring John’s head. He went and beheaded him in the prison, ²⁸ brought his head on a platter, and gave it to the girl. Then the girl gave it to her mother. ²⁹ When his disciples heard about it, they came and took his body, and laid it in a tomb.

Ephesians 1:3-14 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, ⁴ just as he chose us in Christ before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless before him in love. ⁵ He destined us for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ, according to the good pleasure of his will, ⁶ to the praise of his glorious grace that he freely bestowed on us in the Beloved. ⁷ In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace ⁸ that he lavished on us. With all wisdom and insight ⁹ he has made known to us the mystery of his will, according to his good pleasure that he set forth in Christ, ¹⁰ as a plan for the fullness of time, to gather up all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth. ¹¹ In Christ we have also obtained an inheritance, having been destined according to the purpose of him who accomplishes all things according to his counsel and will, ¹² so that we, who were the first to set our hope on Christ, might live for the praise of his glory. ¹³ In him you also, when you had heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and had believed in him, were marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit; ¹⁴ this is the pledge of our inheritance toward redemption as God’s own people, to the praise of his glory.

[sermon begins]

Wonder with me for a minute about how different the world might be if each person in the world lived in grace and hope. If each person in the world understood themselves as formed by love for love. Let’s wonder with the letter to the Ephesian church that opens with the powerful blessing we heard today. The letter was likely sent in copies to the wider church, not just the Ephesians. The letter is to new converts following the Way of Jesus, both Jews and Gentiles (non-Jews), who are struggling to get along with each other. Christians who are learning the Jesus Way and challenged by their different opinions about what the church should be and do. The letter opens with this gorgeous blessing, flowing with hope. Phrases like, “glorious grace freely bestowed by the Beloved.” (The Beloved being Jesus.) And in the Beloved, “…we have redemption…through the riches of his grace that he lavished on us…” Those 1^st century siblings in the faith “set [their] hope on Christ” as do we in the 21^st century.

I invite you to take your worship bulletin home and re-read this opening blessing again. Underline the words that jump out at you. Cut it out. Tape it to your bathroom mirror or use one of your many fridge magnets to keep it front and center. If you’re anything like me, setting our hope on Christ gets slippery between Sunday mornings. The challenges of life, work, relationships, and politics can weary even the most faithful among us. It’s why we need each other as a reminder of the hope to which we cling when the world serves up horror on a platter.

I mean, good grief, don’t we have enough happening in the world without stories like these on Sundays?! King Herod Antipas, a.k.a. King Herod in our Bible story today, murdered many, many people who were threats to his power and executed John the Baptist on shameless impulse.[1]

This king was the son of THE King Herod who tried to manipulate the magi from the East and who murdered babies to eliminate the newborn king of the Jews.[2] Murderous mayhem ran in the family and attracted others like Herodias who King Herod Antipas stole from his brother Philip. Herodias had an opportunity and took it to rid herself of the pesky prophet for whom she carried a grudge because John wouldn’t stay quiet about her illicit marriage. Up to this point in the Gospel of Mark, demons and disease were causing the problems. King Herod Antipas added “depraved dictator” to the list of things working against God’s kingdom. The king liked listening to John’s teaching but not enough to let him live. John’s disciples braved a similar fate when they asked for his body to bury. It’s difficult to imagine their courage. They must have loved John very much to risk such a thing.

We don’t know what Jesus thought about John’s death. In the first chapter of Mark, Jesus’ ministry launched after John’s arrest.[3] It’s possible that Jesus’ launch was partly inspired by the arrest. And John’s execution foreshadows Jesus’ execution. Not only is someone NOT a prophet in their own hometown, as Jesus said at the beginning of this sixth chapter of Mark, but they apparently don’t live long after prophesying against preeminent power.

This summer’s book recommendation was brought to us by Augustana’s Human Dignity Delegates – The Cost of Discipleship by Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Leave it to this ministry to offer the seeming opposite of a “beach read,” although ironically it may be the perfect book to read on a beach given the United States entrance into World War II was on the beaches of Hawaii and France. Bonhoeffer was a German Lutheran theologian and pastor who lived as the Nazis rose to power in the 1930s. He is widely admired for his opposition to Hitler and the Nazis, resisting their influence on the Protestant Church as he founded the Confessing Church. His resistance led to his arrest, imprisonment, and execution in concentration camp. If Lutherans had saints, he’d likely be one of them.

In The Cost of Discipleship written in 1937, Bonhoeffer believed that discipleship includes personal sacrifice while we live out our faith in the world. He makes a distinction between “cheap grace” that requires nothing of us versus “costly grace” that inspires action to make a difference in the world. It’s costly not because God requires something from us before we’re given God’s grace. It’s costly because God lavishes grace so freely how could we do anything else but respond to it with our whole lives for the sake of the world. Bonhoeffer coached the local church to be a place where individuals can learn to act through their faith. Read The Cost of Discipleship. All are welcome for the book discussion after 10:30 worship on August 18^th.

In times of societal stress, there can be either a temptation to look away from the things that make us uncomfortable or a temptation to confront others in ways that demean and degrade our shared humanity. We mute ourselves or we scream back. Things have gotten even more complicated these days as some other Christian denominations are the face of public Christianity, believing that Jesus is only on our country’s side and NOT on the side of the whole world so loved by God. The desire to distance from those Christians and to go quiet is understandable. But Christianity has always been practiced by a wide variety of people. See the 1^st century Ephesian church as one example.

In the United States, our Founders separated the church and state with the belief that King George wasn’t any more divine than anyone else. Because of the Founders’ efforts, we are free to speak our minds and free to practice any religion in this country we call home. The first Amendment to the United States Constitution protects freedoms of religion, speech, press, assembly, and petition. As Jesus’ followers and as United States’ citizens, we are two things at once. It’s helpful that Christian theology makes space for being two things at once – saint and sinner, bound and free, fearful and courageous, weak and strong, wise and foolish. Being a faithful citizen fits nicely into the Founder’s framework. Things go awry when faithful people decide that the country must be a theocracy, that it must be Christian under divine authority. This is called Christian Nationalism and its neither Christian nor patriotic.

We freely worship this morning as Christians in a country that is NOT a Christian country. As our cousins in faith who are Jews and Muslims, as well as any number of spiritual or nonreligious folks, go about their Sunday mornings doing whatever they feel free to do.

As Jesus’ followers, listening to Mark’s gospel reading about John the Baptist’s death, how are we to understand the risks that we’re called into as Jesus’ followers on behalf of the world God loves? We tend to admire the courage of folks like John the Baptist and Dietrich Bonhoeffer after the fact, well, after their political executions anyway. But how do we hear prophets in our own day, calling us to account for the state of the world in which we all play a part. It’s easy to not be political when the current politics of the day are working in our favor. But how are we to act when the politics of the day don’t work in our neighbors’ favor? These are the tough questions we wrestle with when we speak against the Israeli government’s policies killing Palestinian people while we simultaneously stand with Jews in our families and around the world against antisemitism. Similarly, we speak to our own elected leaders about issues that may not personally affect us but affect our unhoused neighbors or our abused neighbors or our otherwise struggling neighbors.

More importantly, we speak to those elected leaders WITH our neighbors who are directly affected by policies that harm or exclude them. This is what the words accompaniment and advocacy mean – working with our neighbors for our neighbors. This is why our Augustana Human Dignity Delegates advocate and accompany alongside groups like Lutheran Advocacy Ministry Colorado and Together Colorado, groups of faith-based people who talk with and “petition” our public figures and elected leaders about issues of human dignity. (See Amendment I of the United States Constitution.)

We default so quickly into quiet self-preservation over and against lives being lost every day because of greed and political posturing. Yet, as the church we are told in scripture and in our worship that we are the body of Christ in the world. Christ the Beloved who freely bestows glorious grace through the cross. The risen Christ in whom we set our hope and from whom the riches of God’s grace are lavished upon us. When we are faced with the horrors of this world, we neither curl up in despair nor behave like the very enemy we say is the problem. Rather, we are Christ’s body in the world, revealing Christ courageously to the world with the lavish, glorious grace we first received from God. Something to celebrate as we sing…

#1050 in All Creation Sings Sometimes Our Only Song is Weeping

_________________________________________

[1] Matt Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Commentary on Mark 6:14-29 for Sunday, July 14, 2024. Commentary on Mark 6:14-29 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[2] Read Matthew 2, the whole chapter.

[3] Mark 1:14

___________________________________________

Amos 7:7-15 This is what [the Lord God] showed me: the Lord was standing beside a wall built with a plumb line, with a plumb line in his hand. ⁸ And the Lord said to me, “Amos, what do you see?” And I said, “A plumb line.” Then the Lord said,
“See, I am setting a plumb line
in the midst of my people Israel;
I will never again pass them by;
⁹ the high places of Isaac shall be made desolate,
and the sanctuaries of Israel shall be laid waste,
and I will rise against the house of Jeroboam with the sword.”
¹⁰ Then Amaziah, the priest of Bethel, sent to King Jeroboam of Israel, saying, “Amos has conspired against you in the very center of the house of Israel; the land is not able to bear all his words. ¹¹ For thus Amos has said,
‘Jeroboam shall die by the sword,
and Israel must go into exile
away from his land.’ ”
¹² And Amaziah said to Amos, “O seer, go, flee away to the land of Judah, earn your bread there, and prophesy there; ¹³ but never again prophesy at Bethel, for it is the king’s sanctuary, and it is a temple of the kingdom.”
¹⁴ Then Amos answered Amaziah, “I am no prophet, nor a prophet’s son; but I am a herdsman, and a dresser of sycamore trees, ¹⁵ and the Lord took me from following the flock, and the Lord said to me, ‘Go, prophesy to my people Israel.’ ”

Sermons

Pride: All the Law and the Prophets Hang on Loving God and Each Other [OR The Greatest of All Shrubs is NOT a Good Story]

June 16, 2024 caitlin121608

**sermon art: Rainbow Jesus by Tony Rubino at fineartamerica.com

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on June 16, 2024

[sermon begins after two Bible readings]

Mark 4:26-34 [Jesus] said, “The kingdom of God is as if someone would scatter seed on the ground,²⁷and would sleep and rise night and day, and the seed would sprout and grow, he does not know how. ²⁸The earth produces of itself, first the stalk, then the head, then the full grain in the head. ²⁹But when the grain is ripe, at once he goes in with his sickle, because the harvest has come.”
³⁰He also said, “With what can we compare the kingdom of God, or what parable will we use for it? ³¹It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground, is the smallest of all the seeds on earth; ³²yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.”
³³With many such parables he spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it; ³⁴he did not speak to them except in parables, but he explained everything in private to his disciples.

2 Corinthians 5:6-10, 13-17 So we are always confident; even though we know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord—⁷for we walk by faith, not by sight. ⁸Yes, we do have confidence, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord. ⁹So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please him. ¹⁰For all of us must appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each may receive recompense for what has been done in the body, whether good or evil.
¹⁴For the love of Christ urges us on, because we are convinced that one has died for all; therefore all have died. ¹⁵And he died for all, so that those who live might live no longer for themselves, but for him who died and was raised for them.
¹⁶From 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. ¹⁷So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!

[sermon begins]

I’d been joking that my Installation to Senior Pastor last week was a little like praying over a potluck after we’d started eating. After the fact, I think that was a little glib on my part. That morning, I had butterflies in my stomach. Sure, there were logistics to worry about – nothing like having my installation at the same time as the Greek Orthodox festival two doors down that would make parking a premium. (A big shout out to Jordan, Max, John, and Craig who served as parking greeters at our lots that day.) But the butterflies weren’t about logistics. They were about the new call between us as congregation and pastor. While there’s been trust between us, developed over the past 11 years, it will take time to develop trust anew. A few weeks ago, I said something similar to the staff – that they know me in my former role but we’re all getting to know each other in my new role. I’d been thoughtful since Pastor Ann’s retirement about both the authority that I had and the authority that I didn’t have during that transition. I was also clear that I was neither auditioning nor campaigning while the Call Committee and I interviewed each other behind the scenes. I was reassured by the shift that the Call Committee themselves made during those interviews about how pastor and congregation could reimagine our partnership anew. No small feat after 11 years together. The butterflies in my stomach embodied that reality.

Actual butterfly insects are a symbol of resurrection, a symbol of God doing something new when the way forward is unclear. And we ARE a resurrection people in unclear times in the wider church and in the world. How handy that the Second Corinthians reading reminds us that we walk by faith and not by sight…urged on by the love of Christ…living not for ourselves but for him who died and was raised for us. It has been said about pastors that loving God is the only way to serve the church over time because people can be hard to love. I would tweak that slightly to say about the church (not just its pastors) that loving Jesus is the only way to serve the world over time because people, all of us, can be hard to love.

In preparation for my Installation, Bishop Jim Gonia asked me to pick scripture for the service and to tell him why I picked it. As Bishop preached last weekend, he highlighted my scripture choices and remembered my words, “I love Jesus and I love the church enough to spend time using my gifts and leading in this way.” I’m repeating it in my sermon today because I want you to hear it from me. “I love Jesus and I love the church enough to spend time using my gifts and leading in this way.” Different people in the congregation have asked me over the past month why I’m doing this, why did I take this call? Embedded in their questions echoes Pastor Karen’s opening sermon line from the Mark reading last Sunday, “Are you out of your mind?!” Her preaching spotlighted our identity as the resurrected body of Christ and that we are to be of Jesus’ mind. Truly though, we can only hope that we are of Jesus’ mind as we begin this new partnership between pastor and congregation. I know that I wouldn’t be doing it otherwise.

Which brings me to the two parable stories that Jesus tells in the gospel according to Mark. Jesus tells these two stories so quickly that we almost miss them. And they are gems that shine hope throughout the whole of Mark’s gospel. At first blush, the first story is really NOT a very good story.[1] Someone plants a seed. The seed grows. No one knows how. In Mark’s gospel, no one ever knows what’s going on or what to do. The disciples bumble around. There are three endings to the gospel and an academic debate about which one is correct. (See Mark 16.) But this little parable in Mark 4 shines a light on the mystery. Oh, it’s still a mystery. But the good news is that we get to call it a mystery. The problem may be that we want an answer. But that problem is ours. It’s not the parables’ problem, not Jesus’ problem, and certainly not God’s problem. The mystery is our problem. We’re just not that powerful and all we have to do is watch a plant grow to remember that we control very little. The mystery of God’s kingdom is that it will have its way. The relief IS the mystery. God’s kingdom does not depend on our righteousness or insight.[2]

The second parable is like the first but in the greatest of all shrubs we get to sing along with the birds nesting in its shade – nesting ancient images of the tree of life within the cross itself. Perhaps we could joke about planting a new church called “Greatest of all Shrubs Lutheran Church.” The greatest of all shrubs paints a humble picture of the absurd, audacious, and awe-inspiring kingdom that adheres to God’s imagination and not our own. Who are we to question the gifts and promise of God’s imagination? Yet we do it all the time.

Here’s one example. There are those of us who celebrate our queer siblings in Christ as God’s creations in God’s own image, trusting that God knows God’s purposes even when God’s people struggle with how many ways there are to be human and different from each other. The church has damaged queer folks for centuries, at best ostracizing and at worst killing. I’m pretty sure Jesus’ teaching to love your neighbor as yourself, the second greatest commandment after loving God, the two commandments on which “hang all the Law and the Prophets,” I’m pretty sure Jesus didn’t state an exemption clause for such murderous and mal-intent against our queer neighbors.[3] Making amends includes our congregations’ invitations to various church-sponsored Pride events. I hope some of you can go. More than making amends is celebrating our queer friends, family, and church members as wonders of creation along with the rest of humankind.[4]

As we wrestle with scripture, our namesake Martin Luther laid down some guidance about the Bible, prioritizing scripture that points us to Christ. He compared scripture to the manger that holds the Christ child – a splinter here, a bent nail there, but cradles the baby Jesus perfectly. This perspective rescues the faithful from making the Bible an idol, or viewing it as a science or history textbook, or as a newspaper…you get the idea. This means that not every word in the Bible is equal to every other word. The Bible’s content is weighted in favor of Christ and him crucified which also means that Jesus teaching about the first and second greatest commandment to love God and love our neighbor as ourselves bear the weight of all the Law and the Prophets. That’s the priority for all faithful people including queer faithful people.

I’ve always thought of myself as a courageous person. Oh sure, I’ve had foibles, fears and phobias but, when it came down to it, I thought that I was of good courage to say the hard things and to do the hard things. I was wrong. Recently I said to my family systems coach that I’m “differently courageous after cancer, chemo, and complete remission.” Like any good counselor, he asked me to say more. Oddly, I really can’t explain it all that well. I may melt down about getting things done in the time available, but the fearlessness in doing the things feels like the transforming love of God. There’s a clarity to knowing that we’re just not that powerful, that human fragility is true, that the limits of knowledge are true, and that we need each other as humankind on this small blue dot in an otherwise uninhabitable universe.

More importantly, God so loved this small blue dot that God showed up in Jesus to show us how to live and how to love. No human is above any other human in God’s love. The grace of God transforms and directs us by God’s will. Our congregation, dare we say a mere shrub branch, is a place to sing in the shade, a place where God’s creatures rest from labor and danger while we celebrate the goodness of our creator revealed in ourselves and our fellow creatures. It’s as Pauline as it gets in Second Corinthians when our human point of view is subsumed by Christ’s point of view. “For the love of Christ urges us on because we are convinced that One has died for all…And he died for all, so that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who died and was raised for them.”

May our courage be humbled and enlivened by the faith of Christ. Amen.

______________________________________________

[1] Matt Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Sermon Brainwave podcast for June 16, 2024. #969: Fourth Sunday after Pentecost (Ord. 11B) – June 16, 2024 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[2] Ibid.

[3] Matthew 22:37-40

[4] Genesis 1:26 – Then God said, “Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness…”

Preaching, Sermons

Bishop Jim Gonia’s sermon: Installation of Caitlin Trussell – John 2: 1-11

June 8, 2024 caitlin121608

Bishop Jim Gonia preaching at my Installation to Senior Pastor on June 8, 2024

Augustana Lutheran Church, Denver CO

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

1 John 4:16 God is love.

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

[sermon begins]

Beloved in Christ: God’s grace, mercy and peace are yours this day!

Pastor Caitlin, you’ve managed to do something no one else has done, as far as I can tell. In the roughly 220 installations at which I’ve preached in my twelve years as bishop, no one else has chosen this splendid gospel reading for this moment! Which is a little surprising when you think about it. After all, here is a well-known Jesus story set in the context of a joyous celebration marking a new partnership in life. Why not this story to mark the joyous celebration of a new partnership in ministry? You spotted it right away when you said to me: Most people in the world have a vague idea that Jesus turned water into wine. It’s a good story. It’s set at a party. It’s good to celebrate the fun, joyous times. Jesus and his friends and his mother were there. It’s easy to think that the Bible is so somber, yet look!

And yet as you also note, there’s more here: Jesus’ “hour not yet come” alludes to the cross and by extension to the suffering we experience as fragile creatures – a suffering you know something about. Yet you add: The church meets people across the spectrum of experience just as Jesus did. The scripture passage does it all.

Yes, Pastor Caitlin, it does!

And yet as we’ve heard, this reading from John isn’t our only Scripture today. We have this wonderful text from Isaiah 55, which as you note, shows that the Lord is up to something good – another joyous reading in the Lord’s own voice that promises peace. We also have this powerful one line from First John that proclaims: God is love. As you noted when describing your hopes for this installation and for your ministry: My hope is that people hear that God loves all of us because God is Love. Period. And that I love Jesus and I love the church enough to spend time using my gifts and leading in this way.

Friends here at Augustana, let me just underscore what your pastor said: I love the church enough to spend time using my gifts and leading in this way – in the way of God’s Jesus-shaped love. Do not count this lightly. At a time when so much uncertainly clouds our vision – including in the life of the church –when faith communities can be as much a cause for heartache and pain as for hope and joy – when more than one pastor has decided to call it quits because it’s just not worth it anymore, to have a pastor who loves Christ’s Church enough to fully invest herself with you – offering her unique gifts in such a time as this – that is no small thing. It is indeed a reason to celebrate and give thanks to God for this new partnership!

With that in mind, let’s celebrate this moment by highlighting some key takeaways from this Jesus story that speak to your relationship as pastor and congregation embarking on a new chapter of partnership.

Take-away number one: everyone has a part to play in the work of Jesus.

We call this a miracle story, but it’s really about how Jesus works among us. Note that he doesn’t lift a finger here. True, he speaks a word or two, but he doesn’t actually DO anything. A lot of other people do all sorts of things, and because they do, this work, this miracle happens. The part that each person plays counts.

Consider the bride and groom and their families. Their role is to invite Jesus, his disciples and his mother to begin with. That may not seem noteworthy, but the whole story is predicated on it!

Then there’s the role that Mary herself plays by sharing the problem that has arisen with Jesus. Jesus, they’re out of wine! And when Jesus suggests that this really isn’t a good time for this sort of thing, mom, Mary is unphased and instructs the servants to do whatever Jesus asks. Her part matters.

Because the servants do exactly as Mary asks. They follow Jesus’ instructions to fill the stone jars, set aside for the rite of purification, with water. And then, they draw the water out as instructed, and take it to the chief steward. Let’s be clear: without the part the “servants” play, there is no miracle!

The chief steward then plays his part by drawing attention to what has happened, proclaiming this to be the finest wine of the whole wedding feast, oddly saved for the end instead of being used up at the beginning. With this pronouncement, the work that Jesus has made happen goes public.

Even the disciples standing on the sidelines, have a part to play in this work of Jesus. This whole episode forms their faith in a particular way, so that as they continue their journey with Jesus, they do so with new understanding about him.

So yes, while this is a story about the miracle or work of Jesus, it is a story about Jesus’ work in which everyone has a role to play, without which, this work would not happen.

Which is a really critical reminder for you in this new chapter of partnership. As pastor and congregation you are called to be about the work of Jesus, and while it is indeed God’s work that Jesus is about, not yours or mine, Jesus makes sure that this work is carried about by our hands – by our feet, our lips, our participation. Which means that everyone has a part to play, everyone serves a role in this Jesus work.

I have seen it too often in congregations once a pastor is called – even a pastor who has already been serving but now is in a new role, I’ve seen this collective leaning back with a big sigh that says: ah, the pastor’s here. She’ll take care of everything.

No, people of Augustana, she won’t. The ministry of this community of faith – the work of Jesus among you, through you – depends on the role that each and every person plays. Jesus set this pattern up at a wedding in Cana of Galilee. He could have just gotten up himself and filled the water jars, waved his hands over them and pronounced for all to hear that he just produced a new vintage!

But that’s not how Jesus does his work – then or now. Jesus works in and through us – sometimes in spite of us – but never apart from us. As a congregation in partnership with your pastor, lean deeply into this important take-away.

Take-away number two: the Jesus story of which you are a part is always bigger than what you yourself know.

When you read this story carefully you realize that no one has the whole picture of what’s going on at any given time – they only know what they’ve seen, heard or witnessed in their moment. It’s only when you bring all the perspectives together that a wider truth emerges.

Why does this matter? It’s very tempting in the life of a congregation for people to operate on the basis of what they alone know, rather than recognizing that there’s always more to the story of which they are a part. Assumptions are made, judgments are rendered based on partial perspective. Which is dangerous to the life of a community of faith, and often to its pastor.

Regardless of what is happening in your midst, recognize that you only ever have your perspective, not the whole truth. Whenever possible, bring those different perspectives together to gain a fuller picture of what’s happening, but even then, learn to humbly recognize that there may be dimensions to what is happening in your midst that you simply don’t know and may never know. It’s OK – God’s still got this, and your part in the story still matters!

Finally, take-away number three: recognize how – in the hands of Jesus – every obstacle becomes an opportunity, if not for a miracle, for a chance to witness God’s glory.

I have often said, nothing is wasted in God’s ecology. God can and does use everything – be it an inconvenient situation or a challenging circumstance – be it the most daunting and painful experience – God uses all of this as raw material to bring forth something new and hopeful and life-giving – dare I say, glorious. Now to be clear, God is not the author of our pain or heartache, but God in Christ does meets us in every place we consider God-forsaken or unsolvable. And in those places, the crucified one not only carries our pain and burdens, God in Christ redeems them. God’s own cross-shaped glory is revealed.

Which means, that the obstacles or problems you will face as a congregation and pastor in this new chapter, these will never be the end of the story, but always a gateway for the work and glory of Jesus to be revealed – in ways that will usually surprise you. Kind of like water turning into wine at a wedding.

Beloved of Augustana, Pastor Caitlin: take to heart what this Jesus story offers on a day when you joyously celebrate your new partnership in ministry. There is good news here in knowing that everyone has a part to play in the work of Jesus, that you don’t need to know the whole story to be part of it. There is promise in witnessing again, how in the hands of Jesus, every obstacle becomes an opportunity for God’s glory to shine.

Thanks be to God!

AMEN

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Isaiah 55:8-12 For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
nor are your ways my ways, says the LORD.
⁹For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.
¹⁰For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven,
and do not return there until they have watered the earth,
making it bring forth and sprout,
giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,
¹¹so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;
it shall not return to me empty,
but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,
and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.
¹²For you shall go out in joy,
and be led back in peace;
the mountains and the hills before you
shall burst into song,
and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.

Preaching, Sermons

Worthy of Wonder, a sermon for Easter – Mark 16:1-8

March 31, 2024 caitlin121608

**The Empty Tomb by Julia Stankova (2003) painting on wooden panel

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on March 31, 2024

[sermon begins after Bible reading]

Mark 16:1-8 When the sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint [Jesus’ body]. ²And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. ³They had been saying to one another, “Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?” ⁴When they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back. ⁵As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed. ⁶But he said to them, “Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. ⁷But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.” ⁸So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.

[sermon begins]

There is classic question asked by Christians over the centuries. We regularly ask, “What does this mean?” The question invites wonder. We wonder about faith, scripture, Jesus, life, love, enemies, and more. Not only do we wonder, but sometimes we disagree. The disagreement isn’t always pretty – note that there are multiple flavors of Christians. But at its best, the question opens us to curiosity and wonder – “What does this mean?” The question is quite Biblical. In our Bible story this morning, Mary Magdalene, Salome, and Mary the mother of James, were in a whole heap of wonderment, reacting to the unknown and uncontrollable, and trying to make sense of a mystery. Because that’s what humans do. That’s what we do when we’ve been through the ringer like those women. It’s good to wonder.

The events leading up to Jesus’ death were shocking. He entered Jerusalem at the top of his game, his followers lined the parade route and waved palm branches, celebrating Jesus’ entrance into the city as if nothing could stop him. But he was stopped in dramatic fashion – betrayed, arrested, charged, tortured, denied, and nailed to a cross. Not just stopped. Stopped dead. Small wonder that the women at the empty tomb couldn’t wrap their heads around it, they had watched their teacher and friend die three days before.[1] Jesus wasn’t surprised. He’d been predicting his death. His death was the inevitable end to his ministry of unconditional love and grace. Hate’s last gasp, if you will, because God’s love is that powerful. Hate will always try to do away with reckless love because it’s just too threatening to the powers that be. Love is unpredictable. Love is a wonder.

Wondering about Jesus’ death before he left behind an empty tomb helps us remember that it was not the violence of his death that redeems us. Nor was his death planned to appease an angry God or a hungry devil. Jesus’ execution was unavoidable.

While it’s hard enough to believe that there’s a God who loves you, it’s downright offensive that God loves your enemies as much as God loves you. This is what riled up the people who killed him. Even so, Jesus’ death reminds us that God will not raise a hand in violence against us, even when we try to kill God. Jesus is the incarnation of God, taking violence into himself on the cross, transforming death through SELF-sacrifice, and revealing a divine love powerful enough to leave behind an empty tomb.

Those women at the tomb, what chance did they have describing such an unexplainable, wild thing after everything they’d just gone through. It’s no surprise that they fled the tomb in terror and wonder, silenced by their own fear. On Easter, we gather in wonder alongside those women. We are not so different from them, really. Making sense of an empty tomb? What does it mean? What could it mean? The empty tomb is a wonder.

The empty tomb was so full of wonder that it silenced the women. “They said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” Fear and silence were their starting point, but we must assume that one of them finally broke. In the weeks, months, and years after Jesus’ birth, ministry, crucifixion, and resurrection, Jesus’ followers told the story bit by bit, sharing it with each other and then more people, and finally writing it down. Theirs was a similar process to ours. Shaky with doubt or trusting and celebratory this Easter, we seek to understand the promises of the cross and resurrection by asking what they mean. Slowly, a piece of evidence here, an observant comment there, a Bible story now aligning with a random story you heard but can’t remember where, finally an experience in your life that ties the pieces together. Our stories are a wonder.

There is a story for each of us. Of course there is, even if we don’t think of it that way. In fact, I’d guess that if I were to ask you whether your story is worthy, you may say, “yes,” but also silently wonder about whether it is truly worthy or whether you yourself are worthy. There are many messages out there that other people’s stories are more important than our own – at school, at work, on the medias, in the movies. Those messages that elevate others at the expense of our own story are lies.

Each of our stories is about a life that God so loves. If, as the Bible says, God so loves the world, and you’re in the world, your life is worthy of God’s love, and worthy of love period. There’s no Venn diagram. Just one big circle, well, more like a planet…or actually, no, bigger than a planet…let’s go with universe, yeah, that’s it, universe! You, your life, your story, no matter how beautiful or messy or messed up it may be, is worthy of the love of God. You are a wonder.

Sometimes that seems to be the hardest thing to believe – that you are worthy of love – deep down in the darkness, in whatever tomb you’ve enclosed yourself in, shrouded in the illusion of safety. The wonder of it all is that God loves you first. Before you wake up in the morning. Before you make your first move. When you make your first move. You are beloved. We make it all kinds of complicated, but it really is that simple. We cannot screw it up or alter God’s love in any way. People will try to tell you that you can. That there’s a limit to how much even God can love. But the message of the cross and the empty tomb is that there is no limit to how much God loves you. That is the Easter promise worth the wonder. Alleluia. And amen.

_____________________________________

[1] Mark 15:40-41

Preaching, Sermons

The Goodness of Good Friday – The Gospel of John, chapters 18 and 19

March 29, 2024 caitlin121608

**sermon art: The Crucifixion with Jesus Mother and the Beloved Disciple by Laura James.

Pastor Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on March 29, 2024

John 18 and 19 – read the whole thing elsewhere if you’d like – sermon begins after this brief excerpt:

John 19:17–18, 25b–27 So they took Jesus; and carrying the cross by himself, he went out to what is called The Place of the Skull, which in Hebrew is called Golgotha. There they crucified him, and with him two others, one on either side, with Jesus between them.

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

[sermon begins]

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

The goodness of Good Friday has to do with God. More specifically, the goodness of Good Friday has to do with who God is in Jesus. The Gospel of John argues that God is Jesus and Jesus is God. The love of God in Jesus, the audacity of grace personified in Jesus, the ultimate power of that love, so enraged his enemies and fueled the mob mentality that ultimately killed him. Jesus ate meals with unlovable people, he had public conversations with women no one spoke to, and he had secret conversations with religious leaders who opposed him by day. The list of his ever-expanding circle of grace and love is endless. Finally, when the threat of his grace, the threat about who is included in the love of God, became too great, he was killed for it. Grace and unconditional love were just too threatening. When Jesus predicted his death, it was the inevitable end that could be anticipated. Hate’s last gasp, if you will, because love is the greatest power and hate will always try to do away with it.

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

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

Confessions of sin extend to systems that we’re a part of – institutions, countries, governments, families, friendships, communities, etc. Systems that hold us captive to sin from which we cannot free ourselves. What does free us? Jesus on the cross. Jesus on the cross holds up a mirror in which we can see our own reflections. Reflections that reveal the sin we inflict on each other and cannot justify. Oh sure, we try riding that high horse, cloaking our sin in self-righteousness. But the cross tells us otherwise. The cross also surprises us with grace in the face of sin.

We often act without awareness of how our actions may hurt someone else. That’s why our worship confessions talk about things we’ve done and things we’ve failed to do. That’s why we talk about our sin. Sin gives us language for the way we hurt other people and ourselves with our actions – actions that separate us from each other and God. Good Friday’s goodness creates space to experience life-giving compassion from the heart of God in the face of our sin. God’s SELF-sacrifice in Jesus also reminds us that Jesus’ death isn’t payment to an angry God or a hungry devil. That’s just divine child abuse. Jesus is a revelation of the goodness of God, taking violence into himself on the cross, transforming death through SELF-sacrifice, and revealing the depth of divine love.

God reveals the truth of our death dealing ways while reminding us that God’s intention for humankind is good.[1] Jesus was fully human and fully divine. His life’s ministry and his death on the cross reveal our humanity and the goodness for which we were created. The cross awakens that goodness. Jesus’ full and fragile humanity was displayed on the cross. He sacrificed himself to the people who killed him for his radical, excessive love. He would not raise a hand in violence against the people and the world that God so loves. Jesus’ self-sacrificing goodness clears our eyes to see God’s intention for our human life together.

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

“Meanwhile, standing near the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. ²⁶When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing beside her, he said to his mother, “Woman, here is your son.” ²⁷Then he said to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” And from that hour the disciple took her into his own home.” [2]

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

In the end, the cross isn’t about us at all. It’s about the self-sacrificing love of Jesus who reveals God’s ways to show us the logical end of ours – our death-dealing ways in the face of excessive grace and radical love. We struggle to believe that God applies this grace and love to everyone. It’s hard enough to believe that there’s a God who loves us. It’s downright offensive that God loves our greatest enemy as much as God loves us. But that is God’s promise in the goodness of Good Friday. There is nothing you can do or not do to make God love you any more or any less. God loves you through the cross, in the darkest places that you don’t tell anyone about. Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus.[3] God’s arms are opened to all in the outstretched arms of Jesus on the cross, receiving us by God’s reckless grace because God is love.[4] The goodness of Good Friday is that God loves us. God loves you. Amen.

__________________________________________________

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

[2] John 19:25b-27

[3] Romans 8:38-39

[4] 1 John 4:7-21

Preaching, Sermons

Who has been Jesus for you? John 3:14-21 [OR Would Someone Please Put John 3:17 on the Poster, Too?]

March 10, 2024 caitlin121608

**sermon art: Jesus Washes the Disciples Feet by Luke Allsbrook, oil on canvas (2018)

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on March 10, 2024

Ugh, you know, the thing I don’t like about Jesus is that he was always telling his followers to get their revenge, to trash talk, to really stick it to people. He was super mean all the time. He didn’t like weddings. And little children really got under his skin. I should probably stop there on the slight chance that anyone thinks I’m serious. Obviously, Jesus was none of those things. The stories we have about Jesus and the things he said reveal an incredible human. Non-Christians say how great life would be if Christians actually lived like Jesus lived. Many people who aren’t Christians try to live their lives as Jesus lived. Just as those of us who say we follow Jesus try to follow his example.

When we welcome new members into Lutheran churches like this one, we call it affirmation of baptism. There are promises we make as part of the affirmation of baptism when we join a church. The last few weeks we’ve covered a few of our promises: to live among God’s faithful people, to hear the word of God and share in the Lord’s supper, and to proclaim God in Christ through word and deed. Today, we’re highlighting our promise, “to serve all people, following the example of Jesus.” Our Bible readings today help us remember a very important part of this promise. Jesus is Jesus and we are not, even if we are called to follow his example.

Verse 17 of the John reading takes that one step further. If Jesus didn’t come into the world to condemn the world, then why would any Jesus follower think it’s their job to condemn people? I shared at Evening Prayer last Wednesday that I was raised in two denominations that painted the scariest portrait of God you could imagine, and that God sent Jesus to police the planet for evil deeds of any size. When I left home, I left Jesus behind. Why take him to the party if he was just going to frown away? And then I married a Lutheran Christian. We baptized our babies and made the promises to them that you hear me ask parents or baptized adults to make at our baptismal font. What changed? God didn’t. I did.

John 3:16 and 17 were written as a continuous thought in the original Greek.[1] “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

God’s love for the world revealed in Jesus is good news because it reveals God’s goodness and light. Jesus was not sent to condemn the world but to save it. Salvation in John’s gospel is focused on life. Eternal life today because God is eternal, and God abides with us right now as we abide with God right now. How would it change Jesus’ message for you to think about salvation that way rather than a dividing line at death? Why would a God whose love for the world, who draws all people to God, suddenly turn against people when they die? Have we projected our own fear about dying onto God?

These questions are relevant to today’s reading because people have used verse 16 over the centuries to blast people beyond God’s love. It’s what happens when verse 16 is separated from verse 17. It’s what happens when belief is set as the highest power above even God’s grace, as if the power of God’s grace could be limited by our beliefs and doubts which is, of course, ludicrous. In case we think too highly of our own power, hear the reminder from Ephesians – “For by grace you have been saved through faith, this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not the result of works, so that no one may boast.” Faith as a gift from God, by definition, means that belief cannot be a work. We don’t dredge belief and faith up in ourselves. That’s a real mind bender, isn’t it?

We haven’t focused on the Hebrew Bible’s stories of the Old Testament much over the last few weeks. Those readings in worship have emphasized the covenants that God makes to God’s people. Each covenant God made is evidence that the promise to some was for the benefit of many. From God’s covenant with Abraham would come blessing for the whole world.[2] From God’s covenant with the Hebrews led by Moses, would come life-giving commandments that brought peace among neighbors.[3] And from God’s covenant with the whole world through Jesus, would come a love so powerful that it transforms hearts and minds.[4]

Which brings us back to the baptismal promise we make “to serve all people, following the example of Jesus.” We don’t make this promise to serve in order to grow the church or to win souls for God or to prove how cool our theology is. We serve following the example of Jesus because as the Ephesians reading tell us, “…we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life.”

I’d like you think for a minute about the people who have served you like you imagine Jesus served people in the Bible stories. Call to mind names and faces and what happened. It may be someone who prayed for you.[5] It may be someone who healed you like a chiropractor or physician or counselor.[6] It may be someone who didn’t let a past harm define you.[7] It may be someone who has more grace for your flaws than you ever could for yourself and doesn’t condemn you.[8] It may be someone who stayed up with you late at night, talking when you needed it most.[9] It may be someone who fed you when you had no way to pay them back.[10] As I prepared this sermon, so many faces and names swam through my mind.

Most recently, it was my friend, Lee McNeil. Lee and I worked on human dignity policies and legislation with Together Colorado especially related to race and justice. I called her Sister Lee as did many others who knew her. It was an honorary title of respect for a beloved and wise elder. As the great granddaughter of an enslaved person, and the triple-great granddaughter of someone who owned African people, our friendship evolved over the ten years of working together. A few weeks ago, we were asked to write an opinion piece together supporting the Racial Equity Study bill moving through the Colorado legislature that will increase understanding of the generational impact of law and policy on Black Coloradans. Sister Lee and I wrote it in my office here at the church. First we reminisced over people we knew because we hadn’t talked in over a year. Then we kept right on talking while I typed and read out loud and we talked more and edited the letter together.

At the end of our conversation that day, I told her how grateful I am for our friendship and for her grace while I learned things I could never have learned without her loving instruction and willingness to just talk. We hugged. She told me she loved me and I told her back. There were a flurry of emails back and forth with final edits and I submitted our letter to the paper. A week later I found out that Lee died suddenly. A long life well lived. I was stunned and heartbroken and incredibly grateful to know her and unbelievably grateful to have seen her right before she died. Sister Lee was kind and thoughtful and fierce. She loved Jesus and she served people following the example of Jesus.

I’ve watched many of you love each other similarly. Oh sure, there are disappointments, disagreements, and sometimes frayed nerves. We are human after all. But we’re reminded time and again how much God loves us and we’re reminded that Jesus commanded us to love each other and then showed us how to do it. The list of things that Jesus did for people is long. If there’s not someone coming to mind at the moment who has been Jesus to you, take this question out of worship with you today. Who has served you as Jesus served and, in some small way, helped you understand just how much God must love you? Because that’s what our service to other people does, it reminds them that God loves them too. This reminder is no small thing in a world that is in desperately in need of Jesus’ transforming love.

Thanks be to God and amen.

_____________________________________________

[1] Joy J. Moore, Professor of Biblical Preaching, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Sermon Brainwave podcast for Bible readings on Sunday, March 10, 2024. www.workingpreacher.org/podcasts/952-fourth-sunday-in-lent-mar-10-2024

[2] Genesis 12:1-5 The Call of Abram

[3] Exodus 20:1-17 The Ten Commandments

[4] Acts 9:1-22 The Conversation of Saul/Paul

[5] John 17:1-26 Jesus’ Prays for his disciples.

[6] See all of Jesus’ healing stories.

[7] John 8:1-11 Woman caught in adultery.

[8] Luke 22:54-62 Peter denies Jesus.

[9] John 3:1-21 Nicodemus visits Jesus by night.

[10] Mark 6:30-44

Preaching, Sermons

The Wonder of It All [OR Hope Dazzles on a Mountaintop] Mark 9:2-9

February 11, 2024 caitlin121608

**sermon art: The Transfiguration by Armando Alemdar Ara, 2004

Pastor Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on February 11, 2024 – Transfiguration of our Lord

[sermon begins after the Bible reading]

Mark 9:2-9 Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, ³and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. ⁴And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. ⁵Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” ⁶He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. ⁷Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” ⁸Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus.
⁹As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead.

[sermon begins]

After being ordained and called here 11 years ago on February 2^nd, my very first sermon was on February 10th and was about Jesus’ transfiguration. I synthesized scripture from Jesus’ baptism to the transfiguration, did theological flips from the transfiguration mountaintop to the rugged cross on a hill faraway, and was generally pretty pleased with my first effort. That was before we used to process the cross at the beginning and end of worship, so after worship I was walking down the pulpit side aisle to go shake hands. Walking in front of me were two women, dear friends to each other and over the years they became dear to me. They were disappointed in my sermon. Yup. Right down to shaking their heads about it. They wanted to enjoy Jesus’ Transfiguration for itself, not for what came before and what came after. I learned a few important lessons that day. One, don’t lurk behind folks after worship unless you want to know what they really think. Two, not every sermon is for everybody. And three, maybe it’s worth it to stay in the wonder of it all when given the chance.

Wonder helps us stay in the moment. Rather than ask “why” about the past and “what now” or “what’s next” about the future, we so often leave wonder in the side aisle. Maybe you can relate. We know that the church world is rife with analyzing the past and dreaming into the future. We ask often, “what went well and what could we do better next time?” Ministry volunteers and staff just wrote 2023 annual reports that we’ll talk about in next Sunday’s Lunch & Learn (a shameless plug, in case you’re curious). Just last week we had a liturgy planning meeting that took us through Pentecost Sunday at the END OF MAY. My siblings and I are planning a trip for NEXT JANUARY 2025. You each have your own pasts and your own future plans so, just for today, for this moment, I’m going to ask that we enjoy the transfiguration and hang out with Jesus on the mountaintop and be dazzled by the wonder of it all.

But before we’re dazzled, it’s good to acknowledge that Bible stories like Jesus’ transfiguration are weird. The weirdness, the other worldliness, the mystical elements can leave us wanting to know what actually happened up on that mountain. Inquiring minds want to know. It’s just how we’re built. At my gym, we start class with warmups during which we share our name and answer a Question of the Day. Last week, the question was asked, “If you could have dinner with anyone in history, who would it be?” I answered, “My name is Caitlin and I would have dinner with Jesus, I know that’s a little cliché coming from me, but I just want to hear Jesus talk about himself, his experiences and what he thought he was doing.” As I finished my answer, one gym friend earnestly said, “That’s exactly what I was going to say, I want to know those things.” He settled on having dinner with Jesus’ mother Mary to fill in the knowledge gaps. After the workout, we chatted a bit more and I learned that my workout friend is an atheist. It was a very cool conversation and we agreed that faith and atheism are both unprovable, two sides of the same faith coin. Although here, today in church, the things we take on faith can open our eyes to the wonder of it all.

Since we have our dinner with Jesus during holy communion, we take the story of Jesus’ transfiguration on faith. Time collapsed in a dazzling light show. Even Jesus’ clothes took on heavenly shine. Moses and Elijah, long dead, talked with Jesus. That undead discussion is eerie and otherworldly. So much so that Peter spoke without knowing what to say. His terror at the vision before him was so overwhelming that he reacted with a plan for what came next rather than pause in awe of the transcendent mystery. It’s common to critique Peter – to laugh at him and say don’t be like him. But we are Peter. Our brains are busy, and we want to make sense of things, to feel bigger than the mystery or somehow in control of it. Transfiguration is a good reminder that mystery will have its way whether we’re ready for it or understand it. It’s a good reminder of the wonder of it all.

Today’s spotlight on the many volunteers who make the work of the church work, reveals an astounding mystery unto itself. People so committed to God, each other, and the world God loves, that you give an hour or two or more a week to the ministries you hold dear. Ministries of welcome and worship. Ministries of leadership and love of neighbor. Ministries that deepen faith and offer hope and healing regardless of cure. Hours upon hours of volunteering that reject a self-centered view of the world in the face of a struggling world. Unbelievable things inspiring unbelievable things. How do we even get our heads around the wonder of it all?!

Last Sunday, Pastor Gail preached that church is a ready-made house of hospitality and socialization and purpose. We could add that church worship is ready made space for transcendent mystery. Maybe not every week for everyone but there are moments when mystery has its way. For me it’s when songs soar from the choir or when we all sing together raising the roof, but it’s also that moment when the song stills into silence. That heartbeat or two before the next sounds begin, when your heart fills until tears brim onto your eyelashes. Or sometimes, the connection with Jesus and all that is holy during communion has no words to describe it. The meal where no one is asked to stay away. Everyone can eat! A meal leaving you not knowing what to say in the mystery of unconditional divine love. Or even in those moments when you drift out of a sermon, tuning out the words, only to receive an overwhelming sense of love and hope that are beyond words. Oh, the wonder of it all!

Worship is otherworldly. It isn’t logical. It’s kinda weird. Worship connects us with an ancient world and a future hope, collapsing time and connecting our stories with Jesus followers long ago and those yet to come. Sometimes hope feels fragile, clouded by our unanswerable questions and reactive plans. And sometimes hope shines like a dazzling Jesus. We pause our day-to-day lives to gather, to sing, pray, and eat together in faith and doubt, fear and hope, suffering and love, while we’re transformed by Jesus, the wonder of it all…

Preaching, Sermons

Christmas Really is All About Love [OR Malevolent Morality Isn’t Merry] Luke 2:1-20 and Isaiah 9:2-9

December 24, 2023 caitlin121608

sermon art: Guatemalan Nativity by John Giuliani, 1990s. See more at jbgicon.com

Caitlin Trussell at Augustana Lutheran Church, December 24, 2023

[sermon begins after two Bible readings]

Luke 2:1-20 In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. ²This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. ³All went to their own towns to be registered. ⁴Joseph 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. ⁵He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. ⁶While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child. ⁷And 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.

Isaiah 9:2-9

[sermon begins]

Last week’s Christmas pageant during our Sunday worship service included 30 children, with practiced with comedic timing, playing the parts of angels, soldiers, shepherds, wise magi, King Herod, Mary, Joseph, and animals – including a horse who said “kneeee” (neighed), a tiger who said, “whoooohw,” (roared), and a rabbit who said, “hop-hop.”[1] The angel Gabriel moved their chair, stood on it, smiled a ginormous smile and told Mary about a having a baby who will be the son of God, and Mary said, “Oh, okay!”[2] Then the same angel moved their chair across the stage, stood on it, and told Joseph in a dream that Mary is going to have a baby from God, that it’s okay to marry her and take care of the baby, and Joseph said, “Oh, okay!”[3]

Those kids in the pageant performed their ever-loving hearts out as they were our preachers last Sunday – telling us during the sermon time about a love story so powerful in the way that only children can. The back and forth between those of us in the congregation listening and laughing at their intentionally funny lines, and those kids up here in costumes telling us all about it, really came down to it all being about love. Because it is, you know. Christmas really is all about love.

Love includes the sentimental kind that beelines to our emotions. Many of us don’t tap easily or often into those feelings, so sentimentality has its place, reminding us of our humanity and that we may not be as tough as we think we are. Sometimes we don’t trust the sentimental for that reason. It can feel like an intrusion through our thick skin. While sentimental love has its place in warming hearts, greeting cards and sappy movies, it doesn’t tend to change the world. Although the birth of the baby we celebrate today is really quite an odd plan for saving the world.

Newly birthed and lying in a manger, wrapped in bands of cloth, his parents at the ready, although exhausted by their travel to Bethlehem and overwhelmed by the birth that changed not only their world but the whole world. Even if people don’t believe in Jesus as the son of God, there is general agreement that Jesus arriving on the scene impacted life on this planet as Jesus followers alternately do dunderheaded, painful things to the world and its people; and also do unbelievably good, powerful things with and for our fellow humans.

How we get from a baby in a manger, who is supposed to save the world through love, to malevolent morality that isn’t at all merry. And by that, I mean the judgy things we do to ourselves and each other that dehumanize each other, that wage wars personal and political, and rob each other of worth and love. We limit God’s love by drawing lines between who’s lovable and unlovable, lines that have nothing to do with God and everything to do with who we don’t like. After all, this little baby Jesus, a.k.a. the Savior, a.k.a. the Prince of Peace, grows up to teach us to love our enemies because it’s the only way from war to peace. 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, and he had secret conversations with religious leaders who opposed him by day. The list is endless of his ever-expanding circle of saving love.

It turns out that the Prince of Peace Savior that the angels sang about was born utterly dependent and vulnerable. That God meets our vulnerability, our fragile bodies, and our fickle natures by first arriving in a baby’s body – just about as fragile and vulnerable of a body as can be had. And from this baby’s body grew the Jesus who showed us how much we are loved by God and the lengths to which God goes to help us love ourselves and to help us love our neighbors. I’m not sure why it’s so difficult to live in love. Perhaps because it’s easier to be afraid of each other or angry with each other or morally superior to each other, than it is to actually love each other. It’s easier to put ourselves and others down, than it is to see what God sees when God looks at us through Jesus’ eyes. We are broken and beloved humans with a God who loves us first. A God who loves us for the ways we are created good and a God who loves us despite the ways we make a mess of things. This is the Christmas story we get to tell each other like our children did in their pageant last week.

We’re not going to say the right things and get this message perfectly communicated. But we can try to talk about the love that God has for us and what’s it means to us. At the end of the day and at the end of our lives, that’s what we get. The good news of the Christmas baby is that we are loved beyond measure by a God who keeps trying to get our attention. What better way to get our attention than to show up in a baby. Babies are hard to ignore and remind us of the care we all need at various times in our lives. Our pain, our suffering, and our need for love are part of what we wrap our thick skin around, thick skin that keeps out the love we may need most. It really is all about love. About God loving us first and freeing us to love each other. So simple and yet we make it so complicated when it really is all about love.

Last Sunday, as I was presiding over Holy Communion, the manger from the Christmas pageant was in my line of sight below the altar as I chanted the prayer. It was visual poetry, a reminder that in fragile, unexpected places like the manger of communion bread and wine, Jesus’ presence is promised to you as a gift of love this Christmas. We cradle his presence with our fragile hands as we receive communion. You are here and you are welcome. It really is all about love.

That first Christmas Day, we received a great gift in the tiny child, Jesus. A baby in a manger wrapped in bands of cloth, a love letter enveloped in skin and solidarity, reminding us that God’s love is good news of great joy for all the people – loving us for ourselves, just as we are. There is nothing we can do or not do to make God love us any more or any less because God is love.[4] It really is all about love. Amen. And Merry Christmas!

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[1] Watch our pageant here [minute 27:20]: www.youtube.com/watch?v=hqAEsYXvFR4

[2] Luke 1:26-38

[3] Matthew 1:18-22

[4] 1 John 4:8

Caitlin Trussell

Tag Archives: love

Pure Gospel Comfort and Held Accountable by Love (Yup, both) Mark 7:24-37 and James 7:1-10, 14-17

Everyone Eats at Jesus’ Table [OR Last Supper? Bacchanalia? Does it Matter?] John 6:35, 41-51

Glorious Grace [OR Christians in a Country that Separates Church from State] Mark 6, Ephesians 1, and Amos 7

Pride: All the Law and the Prophets Hang on Loving God and Each Other [OR The Greatest of All Shrubs is NOT a Good Story]

Bishop Jim Gonia’s sermon: Installation of Caitlin Trussell – John 2: 1-11

Worthy of Wonder, a sermon for Easter – Mark 16:1-8

The Goodness of Good Friday – The Gospel of John, chapters 18 and 19

Who has been Jesus for you? John 3:14-21 [OR Would Someone Please Put John 3:17 on the Poster, Too?]

The Wonder of It All [OR Hope Dazzles on a Mountaintop] Mark 9:2-9

Christmas Really is All About Love [OR Malevolent Morality Isn’t Merry] Luke 2:1-20 and Isaiah 9:2-9

Pastor, Preacher, Speaker