Tag Archives: neighbor

Preaching, Sermons

Cousins in the Faith: Jews and Christians [OR Be Salty & Shiny (Not That Kind of Salty[1])] Isaiah 58:1-9a, 1 Corinthians 2:1-12, and Matthew 5:13-20

**Photo: Cantor Zachary Kutner, January 27, 2023. See this photo and more in the Facebook post here: Holocaust Remembrance Day, Kavod Senior Life.

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church, Denver, February 5, 2023

[sermon begins after two Bible readings; the 1 Corinthians reading may be found at the end of the sermon]

Isaiah 58:1-9a  Shout out, do not hold back!
Lift up your voice like a trumpet!
Announce to my people their rebellion,
to the house of Jacob their sins.
2Yet day after day they seek me
and delight to know my ways,
as if they were a nation that practiced righteousness
and did not forsake the ordinance of their God;
they ask of me righteous judgments,
they delight to draw near to God.
3“Why do we fast, but you do not see?
Why humble ourselves, but you do not notice?”
Look, you serve your own interest on your fast day,
and oppress all your workers.
4Look, you fast only to quarrel and to fight
and to strike with a wicked fist.
Such fasting as you do today
will not make your voice heard on high.
5Is such the fast that I choose,
a day to humble oneself?
Is it to bow down the head like a bulrush,
and to lie in sackcloth and ashes?
Will you call this a fast,
a day acceptable to the Lord?

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

Matthew 5:13-20   [Jesus said:] 13“You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot.
14“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. 15No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. 16In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.
17“Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. 18For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished. 19Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. 20For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

[sermon begins]

 

Salt makes the world a better place. Those of us who have ever been put on a salt restriction know that salt becomes obvious when it’s missing. I was talking with an Augustana friend recently who relocated to a Senior Living near her son. When I asked how the food was, she said it was okay but that in meeting the various residents’ health needs there was a lack of salt and seasoning in the food. Saltshakers are not on the table and so she brings her own salt shaker to the meal. (I have filed this smart tip away for use at a later date.) Salt is one of those things for which a little goes a long way. I’ve ruined a perfectly good egg salad sandwich or two being heavy handed with the shaker. Salt, though, when applied properly, works with food to make it better.[2] Light is similar. Light brightens what already exists to help us perceive the world around us.[3]

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

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

When we sing, “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine,” we don’t ordinarily sing it by ourselves. Does anyone do that? I can think of one person who probably does. Most of us have maybe hummed it a time or two in our heads as it echoes there after worship. Feel free to let me know if I got this one wrong. I have to admit that I don’t sing it by myself. I sing it in children’s time in worship or with Augustana’s Early Learning Center kids during their chapel time. Every so often we’ll sing it after the sermon as a Hymn of the Day in response to the sermon.[4] Mostly we sing it together. “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.” I like that it’s a together thing because it gets at what Jesus announces to his disciples.

Notice that Jesus isn’t telling them what to do. He’s describing something, not prescribing it.[5] Jesus is telling them what they already are – salt and light. Be salty (a note to the gamers among us, not the kind of salty that means bitter). Don’t hide your light. Let your light shine and, in doing so, the good works that come from the light will point to God. It’s a subtle point but it’s an important one. We talk a lot in Lutheran Christian circles about God’s movement to us. God showing up in Jesus. We don’t build a ladder to God. God brings God’s self to us.  When we hear this, more than a few of us might be thinking, “Ruh roh, I don’t think I’m salt and light, God must have missed me with the saltshaker because I can be a real jerk.” This may be your good news day because of course we can be jerks. But God calls us back by our baptisms, over and over again, to remind us that we are salt and light and that we are free to be salt and light. We, the church, all y’all, are salt and light together. Being salt and light is a group experience that leads to group projects. The church word for group project is ministry.

That’s why Jesus’ speech about the law and commandments follow the salt and light comments. Not as a way to lord righteousness over our neighbors or as a performance to get their attention. [6] Rather, commandments are given to us as a way to live well with our neighbors, to be who God says we are in relationship with our neighbors. The Gospel of Matthew can be tricky because it appears that there was stress within the 1st century Matthean community between Jews and Jewish Christians. Some readings like ours today are an example of that 1st century stress and can be misconstrued to be anti-Jew or anti-law, as if somehow Jesus found the Jewish tradition obsolete and in need of an overhaul.[7] The verses about following the law connect Jesus’ teaching with Moses – not as a split, as an extension of the covenant.[8] Our reading from the book of Isaiah says that feeding the hungry, covering the naked, and loosening the bonds of injustice by freeing the oppressed shall break forth your light like the dawn.

In the last few weeks, one of my Rabbi friends and I were in a conversation about a public comment that I had made about Christians and Jews being “cousins in the faith.” It’s something I’ve said before in different places, but I suddenly questioned my thinking out loud and added that I’d need to double check that statement. In our follow-up conversation, Rabbi Brian aligned with the expression, “cousins in the faith” because it acknowledges that both Christianity and Rabbinic Judaism grew like branches from the trunk of the Hebrew Bible that Christians call the Old Testament. Rabbinic Judaism grew like one branch while Christianity grew like another branch at about the same time during the 1st century.[9]

A few weeks after this conversation with Rabbi Brian, I brought your congregational greetings from Augustana to the residents of Kavod Senior Life, a Jewish hosted residence for older adults just a few blocks west from our building. It was Holocaust Remembrance Day, commemorating the liberation of Auschwitz, a concentration camp during World War II, and honoring the lives of over 6 million Jews who were murdered along with millions of non-Jews – Poles, Russians, Roma, disabled people, political opponents, and LGBTQ folks – and the many who survived to live and remember, including honoring a few survivors who were there that day. The event at Kavod was reverent and hopeful. Rabbi Steve, Kavod’s chaplain, organized the event and invited me as both a Christian pastor of a neighboring congregation and as a resource for their Christian residents.[10] One of the leaders during the event was Cantor Zachary Kutner, a 97-year-old holocaust survivor who sang the signature prayer of remembrance (El Malei Rachamim). His voice was as boldly life-filled as it was mind-blowing, chanting from quiet meditation to loud exuberance and back again. As we continue this year’s journey through the Gospel of Matthew, it matters how we talk and think about our Jewish cousins in the faith. Let’s keep talking and thinking.

“All ya’ll are salt and light,” Jesus said. Together as the church, we dip back into this baptismal promise on a daily, sometimes minute-to-minute, basis – resting not on human wisdom but on the power of God made vulnerable in Christ Jesus and him crucified.[11] The light of Christ shining through the cross is not permission to do whatever the heck we want when we want to. Christ’s light gives us freedom to experience the transforming power of faith through our congregation, through all y’all.

Freedom that free us to admit when we’ve been jerks.

Freedom to experience forgiveness and try again to love God, love neighbor, and love ourselves.[12]

Freedom to be salt and light for the sake of this world God so loves.

Thanks be to God and amen.

________________________________________________________________

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

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

[3] Ibid.

[4] Hymn of the Day is the song sung after the sermon, usually connected to one of the Bible readings or the preacher’s sermon.

[5] Howard, Ibid.

[6] Ibid.

[7] Ibid.

[8] Ibid.

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

[10] Rabbi Steve Booth-Nadav, Chaplain, Kavod Senior Life, and Director of Multifaith Leadership Forum in Denver.

[11] 1 Corinthians 2:1-2

[12] Leviticus 19:18 and Luke 10:27 – Once again Jesus teaches within the Jewish tradition, “love your neighbor as yourself.

___________________________________________________

1 Corinthians 2:1-12  When I came to you, brothers and sisters, I did not come proclaiming the mystery of God to you in lofty words or wisdom. 2For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and him crucified. 3And I came to you in weakness and in fear and in much trembling. 4My speech and my proclamation were not with plausible words of wisdom, but with a demonstration of the Spirit and of power, 5so that your faith might rest not on human wisdom but on the power of God.
6Yet among the mature we do speak wisdom, though it is not a wisdom of this age or of the rulers of this age, who are doomed to perish. 7But we speak God’s wisdom, secret and hidden, which God decreed before the ages for our glory. 8None of the rulers of this age understood this; for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory. 9But, as it is written,
“What no eye has seen, nor ear heard,
nor the human heart conceived,
what God has prepared for those who love him”—
10these things God has revealed to us through the Spirit; for the Spirit searches everything, even the depths of God. 11For what human being knows what is truly human except the human spirit that is within? So also no one comprehends what is truly God’s except the Spirit of God. 12Now we have received not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit that is from God, so that we may understand the gifts bestowed on us by God.

Preaching

Divine Indifference Is Not A Thing – Luke 21:1-19

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on November 13, 2016

[sermon begins after the Bible reading from the book of Luke]

Luke 21:1-19 He looked up and saw rich people putting their gifts into the treasury; 2he also saw a poor widow put in two small copper coins. 3He said, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all of them; 4for all of them have contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in all she had to live on.”
5When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, he said, 6“As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.”
7They asked him, “Teacher, when will this be, and what will be the sign that this is about to take place?” 8And he said, “Beware that you are not led astray; for many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and, ‘The time is near!’ Do not go after them.
9“When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for these things must take place first, but the end will not follow immediately.” 10Then he said to them, “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; 11there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven.
12“But before all this occurs, they will arrest you and persecute you; they will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name. 13This will give you an opportunity to testify. 14So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; 15for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict. 16You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends; and they will put some of you to death. 17You will be hated by all because of my name. 18But not a hair of your head will perish. 19By your endurance you will gain your souls.”

[sermon begins]

A week and a half ago, a new Crock Pot turned up at my house. It sat on the counter for a few days, hanging out in its box.  My old Crock Pot was sitting there too.  Its clouded, plastic lid cracked beyond repair.  No replacement part available to prolong its use to be found online or in town. We received it as a wedding gift over 20 years ago and scooped from it many family meals and potluck offerings.  It shows its years in the pale blue floral pattern and other signs of wear beyond its broken lid.  Finally I pulled the new one out of its box on Tuesday morning and christened it with the evening meal. Here’s where the story takes a turn into the absurd.  I couldn’t part with the old one.  Besides my stubborn resistance to planned obsolescence, it is an object loaded with meaning through memories. I put it in my trunk rather than in the trash thinking that maybe I’ll discover a means to reuse or repurpose it.  That was Tuesday.

On Wednesday morning, post-election, sentimentalism was put in its proper place.  Facebook was exploding in surreal contrasts of joy and despair.  It’s a wonder that my laptop didn’t split apart from the emotional output of so many people.  I looked at my laptop and wondered about all these people who were posting – family, friends, fellow clergy, and friends-of-friends.  Many of them I know and love.

So, there I sat, wondering if there was anything to say, if I had anything to say.  So, I did what I often do which is go to my faith. And I also did what a lot of people in my generation do and wrote a blog post.[1]  It was a mixture of testimony and confession.  That is to say, I wrote about my experience, Jesus, and what I was going to do by faith in the cultural turmoil even if not much else seems clear.

In the Bible reading today, Jesus tells his disciples that they will have an opportunity to testify.  Their opportunity to testify will come in times of massive upheaval as they’re arrested.  Some of them may not make it.  Some may die.  Jesus’ words are dire as they describe a dire time.  Their faithful testimony will not inoculate them against disapproval or death at the hands of kings or governors.

Generally speaking, testimony isn’t a big part of Lutheran-land.  It’s found a lot more in other Christian traditions.  Testimony is even odder when it’s given in non-Christian arenas like to the kings and governors.  Jesus tells his disciples that he will give them the words and wisdom for their testimony.

Right before this call to testimony, Jesus watches the widow walk humbly across the floor of the synagogue and put all that she has to live on in that treasury box.  Her presence is noted as Jesus watches her quietly give her gift.  Jesus’ witness means we remember her across time as an image of active trust in God.  She is identity bearing for us as the church.  As one congregation of people in God’s whole church catholic, our mission statement concludes with the words from the prophet Micah.[2]  We “walk humbly with our God.”[3]  We walk as the widow walks – right through the argument of the leaders.  We do as the widow does – giving our lives to God.

In contrast to the widow, we live in a world where politics often supplants faith as salvific. Politics becomes that which will save us from all manner of bad things. Bishop Elizabeth Eaton reminds us in her post-election remarks this week that, “No human candidate can guarantee our life and our future, that is the work that God has done through the death and resurrection of Jesus.”[4]  While many of us may agree with that statement theoretically, our minds and bodies may have a more difficult time figuring out what it means. Especially because there are competing and emotionally-charged political views of people we’re sitting in the pews with right now. If the last few days are any indication, some of us are celebrating and some of us are afraid.  That’s a lot going on in a room of people much less a country of people.

Leading with the story of the widow, Jesus charges his disciples to give their testimony and tells them that it may cost their lives.[5] If we only had this reading, one could read this as a speech of indifference as to whether or not the disciples live. But nothing could be further from the good news of Jesus. In the first chapter of Luke, God slips on skin in solidarity with us[6]; Mary sings about God lifting up the lowly and filling the hungry with good things[7]; and Zechariah prophesies about forgiveness of sins and the tender mercy of God giving light to those who sit in darkness and guiding our feet in the way of peace.[8]  Divine indifference is not a thing.  After Luke’s 21st chapter that contains the Bible reading today, come the last three chapters that include Jesus’ trial, death, and resurrection during which Jesus’ prays for the people, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.”[9]  Divine indifference is not a thing.

Bishop Eaton continued her post-election comments:  “So what do we do dear church? Three things.  Remember that all human beings are made in the image of God, even the ones who didn’t vote for your candidate.  Pray for our country, for those elected, for understanding.  And then we get back to work, doing the things the church has always done: welcome the stranger, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the sick and those in prison, work for justice and peace in all the earth, all in the name of the one who is our hope, our life, and our peace, Jesus who set us free to serve the neighbor.”

Following up on Bishop Eaton’s question, I ask us, “How are we prepared to do these things, dear church?”  Our testimony on behalf of the stranger, the hungry, the naked, the sick and the imprisoned need not wait until we’re dragged before a king or other world leader.  There are people right now who are riding the coattails of this election to intimidate and injure others.[10]  Swastikas and racist behavior are being reported by schools from around the country.[11]   We may testify right now against racist, sexist, and homophobic behavior – prepared by Jesus with the words, wisdom, and strength to do so on behalf of all people, ALL beloved children of God.

Healing prayers have been long-scheduled for worship this Sunday. Post-election, this now seems like providential timing – not to gloss over serious realities with sentimentalism but rather to be gifted strength to respond faithfully, to love our neighbor as ourselves.[12] Because divine indifference is not a thing.  In its ministry of healing, the church does not replace the gifts of God that come through the scientific community, nor does it promise a cure. The church offers and celebrates gifts such as these: God’s presence with strength and comfort in time of suffering, God’s promise of wholeness and peace, and God’s love embodied by the community of faith.[13]

Jesus’ death on the cross is evidence that God would not raise a hand in violence against the people God so loves. Claimed by this good news, we are set free to give our lives to God for the sake of our neighbor. Because of Jesus the Christ, the church’s indifference is not a thing.  Indifference is not an option.  Where people are hungry and thirsty, where people are suffering and hurting, where people are persecuted and threatened, Jesus people show up.  Thanks be to God.

 

[1] “Tinted Purple” blog post link: http://caitlintrussell.blogspot.com/2016/11/tinted-purple.html

[2] Micah 6:8 – He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, seek kindness and walk humbly with your God.

[3] Augustana mission – Guided by the Holy Spirit we gather in Christian community, reach out and invite, offer hope and healing in Jesus Christ and walk humbly with our God.  http://www.augustanadenver.org/

[4] Presiding Bishop Elizabeth Eaton, Evangelical Lutheran Church in America. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nw2-f82fklc

[5] The Book of Acts tells stories of the disciples’ work, testimony and martyrdom.

[6] Luke 1:26-38

[7] Luke 1:46-56

[8] Luke 1:67-79

[9] Luke 23:34

[10] Jim Axelrod for CBS News on November 11, 2016. “Ugliness Sprouting Up Across The Country.” http://www.cbsnews.com/news/ugliness-sprouting-up-across-country-after-donald-trump-election-win/

[11] CBS News/AP on November 11, 2016. “Schools Nationwide Report Racially-Charged Incidents After Election.” http://www.cbsnews.com/news/schools-nationwide-report-racially-charged-incidents-after-election/.

[12] Luke 10:27

[13] Evangelical Lutheran Worship. Opening Rubric of “Brief Order for Healing.” (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 2006). members.sundaysandseasons.com/library

 

Sermons

Football Sidelines and Neighbors – Luke 3:7-18 and Philippians 4:4-7

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on December 13, 2015

[sermon begins after two Bible readings]

Luke 3:7-18 John said to the crowds that came out to be baptized by him, “You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come? 8 Bear fruits worthy of repentance. Do not begin to say to yourselves, “We have Abraham as our ancestor'; for I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham. 9 Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” 10 And the crowds asked him, “What then should we do?” 11 In reply he said to them, “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.” 12 Even tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, “Teacher, what should we do?” 13 He said to them, “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.” 14 Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what should we do?” He said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.”
15 As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, 16 John answered all of them by saying, “I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 17 His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” 18 So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people.

Philippians 4:4-7  Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. 5 Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. 6 Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. 7 And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

[sermon begins]

John the Baptist’s speech has a sideline quality.  I’m talking football sideline.  There’s often a guy walking up and down among the other players.  Arms flapping, mouth flapping, hair flapping, there is name calling, yelling.  The gist of speech is to bring people to the next level.  Up their game when they get on the field.  So much is still possible because there is still time on the clock.  There is an expectation that with a positive mindset, perfect timing, and the right mix of skills coming together at the right time that the win is in sight.

Sitting on the sideline means different things to different people.  Defense may be on the field protecting the end-zone so the offense is resting up and pumping up. Or there are players suited up who are lucky enough to take the field once a season.  Regardless of why players are on the sideline, it is powerlessness in the moment.  There are other players out on the field doing the actual work.

The sideline is a bit of wilderness.  There is wandering around. Sitting down.  Very little appears organized.  But those are appearances.

Check out a game. Maybe around 2:00 today when lots of people will be watching a particular game.  Take a gander at those sidelines.  Chances are good you will see a John the Baptist type – arms flapping, mouth flapping, hair flapping.

John is worked up.  He’s a wilderness guy.  This is his terrain.  And the crowds come.  Not just any crowds, this is the riff-raff – tax collectors, mercenaries, and people with too many coats.  The people come to see a man about a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.  John yells at them, calls them names, and challenges them to, “Bear fruits worthy of repentance!”  The crowds ask, “What shall we do?”  John hollers at them about playing fair and giving away their extra coats.  John’s answers are nothing earth shattering.  The crowds’ question, though, is compelling, “What shall we do?”

In one form or another, this is a question I ask myself and is also asked frequently by many in the congregation.  It is a sincere question.

John tells the riff-raff what to do.  The crowd is apparently hanging onto more than they need, the tax collectors are collecting for Rome but lining their own pockets by overcharging, and the soldiers of the time are mercenary bullies, extorting money from the people.  In short, John tells them to share, play fair, and be kind.  This is not rocket science.  This is standing with your neighbor rather than against them.[1]

We can so easily stand apart from the crowd, the tax collectors, and the soldiers, feeling grateful that those aren’t our particular sins.  However, I see us smack in the middle of this crowd wondering why we came in today only to hear John’s words push against us, too.  After all, it’s difficult to fully celebrate the arrival of a savior if you don’t see much need for one from the start.

John’s sideline coaching to the tax collectors and soldiers can be applied to the rest of us.  We can substitute our own roles and try to finish the sentence.  For me, this sounds like sentence starters of a particular kind:

You are a pastor so go and…

You are a wife so go and…

You are a mother so go and…

You are an American so go and..

The trouble is that the actions that fill in the blanks can become ways to validate myself.  And God becomes a theoretical instrument used merely to confirm my best impulses.

Despite the best efforts of wild-haired guy on the sidelines, here’s the reality on the field. The will be an interception, there will be a fumble, there will be a missed field goal, there will be failure to protect the blind side.  For me this translates to a sermon without the promise of good news, a missed hospital visit, inattentive listening to Rob and the kids, missing the mark on prophetic patriotism.  And those are just the easy ones to say out loud in a crowd.

What are fruits worthy of repentance?  The most helpful answer locates our behavior in the realm of worship, an act of praise. Behavior that points us and other people to the good news of Jesus, not to ourselves.  John the Baptist does this quite beautifully – yelling notwithstanding. He is often depicted in art with his finger literally pointing towards Jesus.  Listen to the end of the Bible reading one more time:

16 John answered [the expectations of the crowd] by saying, “I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 17 His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” 18 So, with many other exhortations, he proclaimed the good news to the people.”

The power of Pentecost is on fire just under the surface of this Advent text.[2]  The Holy Spirit, at work in Mary’s pregnancy, has more in mind than the gentle quiet of a nativity scene.  The Holy Spirit has us in mind, my friends.

John’s proclamation that “the one who is coming…will baptize you with fire and the Holy Spirit,” is indeed good news.  One of the ways John’s words help us today is by working us toward an understanding of this wild promise.   This begins with the distinction he makes between the wheat and chaff.  I see each of us here today as one of those grains – a grain sitting all warm and cozy within the chaff that surrounds it.

We get used to our chaff.  Some might even argue that we’ve made peace too easily with our chaff, our sin.  But part of the promise is that our repentance, our surrender to the one who has the power to forgive us, is that the sin gets called out in truth, gets forgiven and we are set free.  And once that happens, look out!  It is a salvation day in the here and now.   Salvation that frees us into a new future; one not defined by the past, by location, or by the perception of other people.

God’s freedom unleashed by the power of the Holy Spirit can also look more subtle.  It can look like people who rage, gossip, gloat, hoard, cheat and bully, in both clever and unaware ways, and those same people walking up to bread and wine, surrendering to the Holy Spirit’s forgiveness and hope. In short, it looks like people in need of a Savior, people who may or may not see or understand this need, and who celebrate his birth.

We are a people who need a Savior and who, very soon, will celebrate our Savior’s arrival.  Because we do not have a God who uses power to do us harm out of anger.  Rather, we have a God who, by the power of the Holy Spirit, came among us in skin and now comes among us in Word, water, bread and wine – forgiving us and refining us by the power of the same Spirit.  We are prepared to receive our Savior in this Advent time by “the One who is and who was and who is to come.”[3]

In light of this gift from God we still ask, “What shall we do?”  We shall worship.  We are drawn through worship to do all kinds of good for our neighbor in the name of Jesus. We confess a faith of Jesus Christ and, in our mission statement, we say that we “offer the hope and healing of Jesus Christ.”[4]  The congregation of Augustana regularly points to Christ, first and foremost through our repentant confession at the beginning of worship that is immediately met with the good news of God’s forgiveness, mercy and love.  Like John the Baptist, frank about our shortcomings and, in spite of them, we take action to help other people.  This care of our neighbor is worship, fruit worthy of repentance, an embodied act of prayer and thanksgiving.  Embodied action that points us and other people to the good news of Jesus, not to ourselves.

The things we do in Jesus’ name tumble out from worship as Christ orients us toward each other and the world for the good of our neighbor – sometimes hitting the mark, sometimes not – trusting in God’s promises regardless. With the apostle Paul, trusting that the Lord is near, rejoicing in the Lord, always, not worrying but worshiping and praying – “And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”[5]

Amen and Hallelujah!

 

[1] Neighbor is a fully-loaded theological term from the Bible meaning the person in the next room, the next town, or around the world.  Anyone who is not you is your neighbor.

[2] Karoline Lewis, WorkingPreacher.com, “Sermon Brainwave #267 – Lectionary Texts for December 16, 2012.”

[3] Revelation 1:8

[4] Looking back on 2015, the congregation of Augustana bore much fruit, pointing to the good news of Jesus all the while.  We baptize in Jesus’ name (20 adults and children this past year), we welcome in Jesus name (20 new members by transfer), we bury in Jesus’ name (19 members and 8 friends of Augustana), we help people eat in Jesus’ name (Metro Caring, ELCA World Hunger, Buying farms for people starting over), we care for the stranger in Jesus’ name (LWR Personal Care Kits for refugees oversees), we care for the sick and poor in spirit in Jesus’ name (Tender Loving Care home visitors, Home Communion, Pastoral Care, Health Ministry, King Soopers gift cards, Augustana Foundation), we care for children in Jesus’ name (Early Learning Center, Sunday School, Choirs, Children and Family Ministry), we care for people in prison in Jesus’ name (New Beginnings Worshiping Community), we worship and sing praise in Jesus’ name (Choir, Music Ministry, Augustana Arts), and so much more.

[5] From today’s reading in Philippians 4:4-7.

 

Sermons

Luke 10:25-37 “Enemy-Neighbors Who Save [aka The Good Samaritan]”

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Luke 10:25-37 – “Enemy-Neighbors Who Save Us [aka The Good Samaritan]”

July 14, 2013 – Caitlin Trussell

Augustana Lutheran Church, Denver CO

 

Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he said, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” 26 He said to him, “What is written in the law? What do you read there?” 27 He answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” 28 And he said to him, “You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.” 29 But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” 30 Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. 31 Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. 32 So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. 33 But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. 34 He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. 35 The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, “Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.’ 36 Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” 37 He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”

 

It was Christmas Eve 2002 and my Pops, my step-dad who raised me, had entered his final days of life out in Palm Springs, California.  We lived here – Quinn was five years old and Taryn was three.  My in-laws were coming in for the holiday.  It was a perfect storm of events that immobilized me.  I stayed in touch by phone.  Pops rallied on Christmas morning but by Christmas night was no longer responding.  His fast decline shook me loose from my indecision and I flew out early as early as I could on the 26th to join my mom and a mix of my siblings and step-siblings.

The number of people in the house and the emotions of grief created their own kind of chaos.  Pops died just two days later.  Rob and I decided that I would stay put in Palm Springs with my mom through the funeral scheduled for a week later.  Somewhere in those next days, a friend from church called me.  I was on the phone in my parents’ kitchen.  She told me that she had rallied some meals and also a child-care schedule so that my husband could continue to work.  Her carefully constructed plan knocked me over, almost literally, as I sat down on the kitchen step-stool in a bit of shock that she had figured it all out.  She didn’t ask, she just did the kinds of things a really good friend does when trouble stirs itself into the mix.

Jesus asks the lawyer, ““Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?”  To which the lawyer responds, “The one who showed him mercy.”   This is a bit of a twist to the way many of us hear the story.  After all, the lawyer was the one who asked, “Who is my neighbor?”  To which Jesus responds by telling the story of the Samaritan.  Interestingly enough, the Samaritan ends up the one with the label of neighbor.

Samaritans are the villains in the story.  Samaritans were Jewish people long ago who intermarried with people who were not Jewish and therefore ritually “unclean”.  A few weeks ago, just two stories before our story today in the book of Luke, we found the disciples asking to rain fire down on the Samaritan village that did not receive Jesus – certainly not a neighborly reaction to the people of the town.  The shock of the first century Jewish listener to Jesus’ story about the Good Samaritan would have been enormous.  Because, unlike my friend who helped me and my family around Pops’ death, the Samaritan felt compassion for the man left half-dead by the side of the road – a man likely to have been his enemy on any other regular, not half-dead, day.

Who is that guy in the ditch?  We know that he was travelling from Jerusalem to Jericho.  And we know that he is in no position to help himself after being beaten half-dead by the robbers.   Indeed, he is completely at the mercy of everyone else passing by him on the road.  We can infer from the story that he was likely Jewish given how shocked we are supposed to be about the priest and the Levite not helping him.  Whoever he is, we can be clear that he is someone in need of help and no one on the road is willing to help him until the Samaritan walks by.

So here’s a kicker of a question.  Does part of loving your neighbor as yourself mean that you let someone be a neighbor to you?  Might there be something to learn about loving yourself in letting your neighbor help you?  To take it a step further, might the person you would least like help from be the very one who can show you how to love yourself?  We tend to think of this in the opposite direction – that I am being a good neighbor when I take care of someone that I don’t really like or don’t approve of.  If it was that hard for me to let my friend help me, I can only imagine how difficult it would be to receive help from someone that I don’t like.

The help my unlikeable neighbor gives me can indeed be of the wound-tending kind.  But the help can also come in other ways.  It can take the form of a mirror being held up to me that confronts my privilege and my prejudice – two things that turn my neighbor into my enemy by my own slight-of-hand.  The George Zimmerman trial for the killing of Trayvon Martin is one obvious mirror.  A tense stand-off between neighbors leaves one young man all the way dead and another young man accused of murder.  The death and the killing and the color of these young men hold a mirror up to an entire country of people and have us asking some very difficult questions about race, privilege and prejudice – difficult, painful but important questions that expose important truths that, in the end, can also save lives.

The guy in the ditch needs some pretty serious saving of, at the very least, the wound-tending kind.  He is half-dead and likely headed toward mostly dead unless there is a dramatic turn-around.  The Samaritan gives him that chance.

When I read this story this past week, one of my first thoughts is that we are the half-dead guy in the ditch and Jesus is the Samaritan.  I love a good allegory that stacks up tidily.  After all, we cannot save ourselves much like the guy in the ditch can’t save himself.  And placing Jesus in the position of the one who saves doesn’t really get much more theologically clean….except that it isn’t that tidy or clean – either as an allegory or a theological truth.  In this reading, we lay in the dirt on the side of the road and our enemy, the One from whom we are naturally inclined to turn away, walks over to save us – saving us by bringing us into relationship with the eternal God today, here, now.  He walks over to save us because we cannot in any literal, figurative, allegorical way, save ourselves.  He walks over to save us out of compassion for us.

There are two other places in Luke where the Greek word for “pity”, sometimes translated “compassion”, in our story shows up.  It is used to describe Jesus’ reaction to a grieving mother and then also used to describe the emotions of the Prodigal Father when his son returns home from self-imposed exile.[1]  This divine compassion is boundless, healing and unfathomable in scope.  Being moved towards others, towards our neighbors as neighbors ourselves, by the compassion of Jesus has roots in Jesus’ compassion for us.  Because Jesus Christ is the one who saves, his boundless compassion is gifted to us in our baptism by the power of the Holy Spirit.  And once we are unbound through divine neighborly compassion there is no telling which self-imposed, enemy-limited boundaries might come tumbling down next…and who might get to live because of it…

Thanks be to God!