Tag Archives: nap

The Finish Line Keeps Moving [OR Breaking News: Naps and Snacks for Grownups are Biblical!]

**sermon art: Eternal Nap by Roland Kay (oil)

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on August 8, 2021

[sermon begins after two Bible readings]

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]

The other night Rob and I watched Olympic men’s swimming. I gotta say that the 50-meter freestyle is one of my favorites. During the 50-meter freestyle, the swimmers don’t take a breath. It’s a sprint down the lane as fast as humanly possible for about 20 seconds. Imagine what would happen if the pool was suddenly 60 meters long. Yeah, I know, that’s impossible. Just imagine it though. You’re swimming and you know how long it takes, how much power to burn, and might even know how many strokes you need. 1…2…3…4…  But, the wall isn’t there. The pool stretched. The finish line changed. Imagine any race or sport or game when suddenly, the finish line changes.  Any shift in the finish line would bring chaos because everything’s organized to a set end point.

In the pandemic, on top of the personal loss and grief that some of us have experienced, the shifting finish line causes fatigue and frustration. It’s a race against time alright, including plenty of both screaming and encouragement. Although it’s a race unlike any that we’ve encountered in our lifetime. And the finish line keeps moving.

Elijah knew a thing or two about moving finish lines and consuming despair when life is changing fast. Queen Jezebel threatened to kill him, and he fled into the wilderness. Tucking himself into the shade of a broom tree, he prayed that he would die and then he falls asleep. When he woke up from his nap, he ate cake fresh from the hot stones, prepared by the angels. And he took another nap. It’s amazing what a snack and a nap can do to adjust perspective and improve the mood. Elijah’s situation hadn’t changed. Queen Jezebel still wanted him dead, and the finish line was nowhere in sight. Taking a break gave Elijah what he needed to see straight for the next leg of his journey.

It’s pretty obvious when a kid needs a nap and a snack – behavior melts down and whining amps up. As grown-ups, we’re less likely take advantage of what Elijah discovered about resting and eating when we’re tired and stressed out. And we’re less likely to encourage each other to get some down time when it’s pretty obvious to everyone else that we need it. Human bodies need to rest and eat and many of us stink at one or the other or both. Next time you’re melting down and maybe even whining, see if you can squeeze in a short nap. Perhaps it helps knowing that naps and snacks are biblical and not just for toddlers.

Perhaps it also helps that we’re at a rest stop in the 6th chapter of John. We’re in the middle of five weeks of Jesus’ Bread of Life discourse that happens every three years during the year that we focus on the Gospel of Mark. Mark is a short book and offers the perfect chance to take a break from the urgency in Mark to drift with Jesus around the Sea of Galilee in the 6th chapter of John and talk about bread – actual fish and bread as he feeds 5,000 people, as well as himself as the Bread of Life – hence the name, Bread of Life discourse. Anyway, here we are with Jesus and the crowds and some of the Jews who knew him before he was the miracle man. His message confuses them because they knew him and his parents from the old days.

His message is a simple one. He sets the finish line as being “raised on last day.” It’s a simple message that creates complaining not just in the Bible story. Jesus’ message creates complaining and arguments aplenty right up through today. Arguments about who gets to be with Jesus after death. Arguments about what “belief” means or doesn’t mean. Arguments about what “eternal life” means or doesn’t mean. But we’re going to take a break from those arguments today too. And we’re simply going to rest in Jesus’ assurance to his followers that the finish line that he calls “the last day” is promised to us as eternal life because of who he came to be. In the first few verses of John’s gospel, we’re told that:

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God…And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.”[1]

Jesus’ promise to us is an unmovable finish line not because of who we are but because of who Jesus came to be from beyond time – for us and for the world. His promise is bigger than we can imagine and includes more people than we can imagine. The Gospels including John, repeatedly describe the grace and inclusion of Jesus’ ministry. Over and over again we hear about someone else included in his expanding ministry of grace and truth. The Gospel of John emphasizes the power of God in Jesus. Jesus, who is God. God, who is Jesus. Jesus whose life reveals God’s love and care for all people regardless of class, gender, or race.  Jesus whose ministry of God’s unconditional love led to his execution on a cross. Through the suffering of self-sacrificing love, Jesus laid his life down on a cross and, through an empty tomb, he catches death up into God, drawing those who have died into eternal life where suffering is no more, and joy never ends.

Jesus’ promise is not meant as escapism. He repeatedly asks his followers to love others as he loved us in the fleshy mess, mystery, and magnificence of this life. The Christian life is not meant to be one of detachment. We’re called to deep attachment as Jesus attached with the world as the Word made flesh. But Jesus’ promised finish line means, in part, that we can navigate the changes to our shifting earthly finish lines with the resilience and perspective of faith.

I don’t know about you, but the second year of the pandemic has been rougher than I imagined. I’ve gotten to a point in my life where I know, with every fiber of my being, I know better than to say things like, “Things will be easier when this happens; or things will be calmer when that happens.” There’s no quicker road to despair than to make up a finish line that does not exist. And even though I know better, I’ve realized that I was making up finish lines without being aware that I was doing so. There is wisdom in holding our imagined finish lines lightly, even as we take seriously the Christian life and ministry that Jesus calls us into.

Jesus’ promised finished line on the last day can help us live into the moving parts of life with each other – in the fleshy mess, mystery, and magnificence of this life.  As the Bread of Life, he is food for our journey. Food that I don’t know what I would do without in the ups and downs of life. And I mean this literally in the experience of Holy Communion where Jesus promises to be present and in worship where Jesus promises to be present when two or more are gathered in his name. Worship is a place of rest and refreshment in ways that are worth discovering. And, just like that, we’re back to a nap and a snack overseen by angels. A spiritual nap and snack amounting to an earthly encounter with the eternal and shifting our view just enough to maintain a faithful perspective.

The good news is that Jesus’ finish line is constant and unconditional. His promise as the Bread of Life sustains us in our life together, in our individual lives, and in company with all the saints in life eternal. Thanks be to God and amen.

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[1] John 1:1 and 14

Rest for Soul Exhaustion [OR More Than a Nap] Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30; Romans 7:15-25a; and Zechariah 9:9-12

**sermon art: Napping by Victor Tkachenko (1960 –    ) acrylic on cardboard

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on July 5, 2020

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

Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30 [Jesus says to the crowds]”But to what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another, 17 “We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we wailed, and you did not mourn.’ 18 For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, “He has a demon'; 19 the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, “Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds.”

25 At that time Jesus said, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; 26 yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. 27 All things have been handed over to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him. 28 “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

 

[sermon begins]

 

Who needs a nap? Mmmm, not just me? It’s funny to me that we spend our first few years of life railing against naps and not too many years later it’s hard to drag us out of bed. I have teen-aged memories of Pops banging on my bedroom door on Saturday mornings to get me out of bed. On our vacation last week, Rob and I hiked and biked in the morning and, in the afternoons, I napped. It was dreamy. Naps are a luxury in our country and, at least for me, feel oddly stolen. But I hear from folks that there’s a lot of napping going on or a lot of wishing for naps. As a country we disagree about many things but most people seem to agree that it’s an exhausting time. Kids’ school and social lives are disrupted, adults’ work lives are on a new learning curve or gone kaput altogether, retirees are wondering about their decision to retire, and our eldest elders are leading much quieter lives than anyone could have imagined six months ago. The list of personal experiences expands from there to include political, medical, and racial chaos. Exhausting. And risky for a preacher to list a big list.

But Jesus preaches from a big list. He challenges his listeners, the crowds, about their insults and misconceptions – the way they diminish John the Baptist’s work by accusing him of demonic possession and the work of Jesus himself by saying that he was “a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners.”  The missing verses in today’s reading include Jesus’ woes to unrepentant cities. Into this cultural chaos, Jesus commands his listeners. He says, “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” The language of the scripture is an imperative. Jesus is not suggesting or inviting or sweet-talking the crowds. In the Greek, he speaks in the imperative tense of command. “Come to me…” He commands the weary. What does that even mean?! All y’all who want to take a nap…get over here?! Could be. Although he’s likely offering more than a nap.

Jesus vindicates wisdom by her deeds when defending himself and John the Baptist against insults. The Gospel of Matthew is the “teaching gospel.”[1] Think Sermon on the Mount as one example.[2] Three full chapters of Jesus teaching. Not surprising then that Jesus invokes wisdom and her deeds. Jewish rabbis had been invoking the Wisdom tradition for centuries before he did it here.[3] In Jesus’ command to “Come to him…” he also says, “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me.” The language of “yoke” was often used by rabbis as symbol for Torah and teaching. Yokes were used by farmers to connect animals to harness their power for heavy lifting beyond human capacity. It makes some sense that Jesus would use it with his listeners here. He leads his followers into the heavy lifting of loving God, loving self and neighbor, feeding the hungry, caring for widows and orphans, and setting the prisoners free. Jesus aligns himself with centuries of Rabbinic tradition and engaging in wisdom teaching as he commands the crowds to learn from him because, in his words, “I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” More than a nap. “Rest for your souls.”

Soul exhaustion describes our 21st century moment. Souls are the deepest part of ourselves. The soul is often how we describe our connection with God. There’s so much coming at us that demands our identities and, I would say, our souls. No matter which side or team or group we see ourselves in, pressure increases on how many of that team’s boxes we can check to fit in. And our societal disagreements have become intense because lives are at stake – all of our lives and especially brown and black lives.[4] Our identities get swept up in the debate because the risks are real. And before we’re aware of it, we’ve given away our foundational identity in Jesus Christ. No longer are we listening to the One who teaches us to follow his gentle humility. We unyoke ourselves from the One who commands us to love and pray for our enemies only to become the very worst of our enemies. We unyoke ourselves from the One who frees us from sin, as the Apostle Paul writes in Romans, only to be “at war with the law of [our minds], making [us] captive to the law of sin,” and [5] We unyoke ourselves from the One who revealed on a cross that vicious insults and violence have only one end – death. Soul exhaustion is well beyond what a nap can fix.

Jesus commands us to learn from him – he who is gentle and humble in heart. The closest thing I’ve seen to this gentle humility was in one of my seminary professors – Dr. Vincent Harding.[6] Dr. Harding was an Army veteran, a Ph.D. in the history of Christianity, a lay pastor, and an aide and occasional speechwriter for Rev. Dr. King. During my time in seminary, he was a Professor Emeritus. My most vivid memory of him was on a panel of professors. One of the younger professors had made a point about something and Dr. Harding turned to him, looked at him, and said gently and powerfully, “Professor, I am going to disagree with you in love…” And then he went on to say whatever it was he was going to say. Imagine that line coming at you all the time. “I am going to disagree with you in love…” Who knows? It might get old. But it communicates a posture towards the listener. Maybe it reminded Dr. Harding of his intention more than it prepared his hearer. Regardless, the memory is vivid because of the tension in the room AND because Dr. Harding commanded his listeners with a gentle power of humility.

Make no mistake, Dr. Harding’s life work included righteous anger that was instrumental in creating change and that remained faithful to the righteous anger in prophetic scripture. But his foundational identity in Jesus Christ meant that he saw the folks who disagreed with him as beloved in the eyes of God. He was a living example of Jesus’ teaching in Matthew and a living example of what our reading from Zechariah calls “prisoners of hope” led by a humble, triumphant king riding on a donkey.[7]  You may remember hearing that verse quoted on April 5th in the Palm Sunday Gospel reading from the 21st chapter of Matthew.[8] Jesus enters Jerusalem for the last time before he’s executed in a plot concocted by religious leaders and Rome. The crowds celebrate his arrival as he rides in on a donkey.

We, too, are prisoners of hope given a foundational identity in Jesus Christ – our humble, triumphant, non-violent king. We who are weary are commanded to come to Jesus with our heavy burdens to learn from him and rest our exhausted souls. More than a nap, resting in Jesus yokes us to an identity bearing repentance, forgiveness, wisdom, gentleness, and humility. These are gifts given as promise for God’s sake, for our sake, and for the sake of the world. Thanks be to God and amen.

 

And now receive this blessing…

Neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. You are held by God in the name of the Father, ☩ and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, now and forever. Amen.

Go in peace to serve and love the Lord…Thanks be to God!

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[1] Jennifer T. Kaalund, Assistant Professor of Religious Studies, Iona College, New York. Commentary on Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30 for Sunday, July 5, 2020, on WorkingPreacher.org (Luther Seminary). https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=4502

[2] Matthew 5-7

[3] Ibid., Kaalund.

[4] Brown and Black people are dying from Covid-19 at disproportionate numbers to their percent of the population. https://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019-ncov/covid-data/images/us-mortality-graph-animated-06032020.gif?fbclid=IwAR364jDZFSaNTYJSnLsXZpOnCItG7rk9G0Pm5wgQ2uCBritwO0lcpMG0yKo

[5] Romans 7:23

[6] The History Makers: The Nation’s Largest African American Video Oral History Collection. Biography: Vincent Harding. https://www.thehistorymakers.org/biography/vincent-harding-41

[7] Zechariah 9:12

[8] Matthew 21:1-11

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Romans 7:15-25a I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. 16 Now if I do what I do not want, I agree that the law is good. 17 But in fact it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. 18 For I know that nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh. I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. 19 For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. 20 Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. 21 So I find it to be a law that when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand. 22 For I delight in the law of God in my inmost self, 23 but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. 24 Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? 25 Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, with my mind I am a slave to the law of God, but with my flesh I am a slave to the law of sin.

Zechariah 9:9-12 I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. 16 Now if I do what I do not want, I agree that the law is good. 17 But in fact it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. 18 For I know that nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh. I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. 19 For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. 20 Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. 21 So I find it to be a law that when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand. 22 For I delight in the law of God in my inmost self, 23 but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. 24 Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? 25 Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, with my mind I am a slave to the law of God, but with my flesh I am a slave to the law of sin.