[sermon begins after two Bible readings]

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

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

[sermon begins]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[1] Genesis 12:1-3

[2] 1 Corinthians 13:12

[3] Revelation 1:8

Pastor Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on July 19, 2026

[sermon begins after two Bible readings]

Matthew 13:24-30  [Jesus] put before [the crowds] another parable: “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field,²⁵ but while everybody was asleep an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat and then went away. ²⁶ So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared as well. ²⁷ And the slaves of the householder came and said to him, ‘Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where, then, did these weeds come from?’ ²⁸ He answered, ‘An enemy has done this.’ The slaves said to him, ‘Then do you want us to go and gather them?’ ²⁹ But he replied, ‘No, for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. ³⁰ Let both of them grow together until the harvest, and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, Collect the weeds first and bind them in bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn.’ ”

Romans 8:12-25 So then, brothers and sisters, we are obligated, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh—¹³ for if you live according to the flesh, you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. ¹⁴ For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. ¹⁵ For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you received a spirit of adoption. When we cry, “Abba! Father!” ¹⁶ it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, ¹⁷ and if children, then heirs: heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ, if we in fact suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.
¹⁸ I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us. ¹⁹ For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God, ²⁰ for the creation was subjected to futility, not of its own will, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope ²¹ that the creation itself will be set free from its enslavement to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. ²² We know that the whole creation has been groaning together as it suffers together the pains of labor, ²³ and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. ²⁴ For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope, for who hopes for what one already sees? ²⁵ But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.

[sermon begins]

Gardening and farming with hands in the dirt can feel like heaven for some folks. They can till, plant, prune, deadhead, weed, and harvest for hours, satisfied as much by their work in the dirt as their harvest. For others, myself included, it’s more transactional. We like flowers or vegetables, therefore we do the work that they need to grow and be beautiful or tasty. It’s taken some years for me to tell the difference between the flowers and the weeds in early spring, but I think I’m getting the hang of it. Lo and behold, according to the Bible anyway, I could have simply left the weeds to grow alongside the more desired flora and let God handle it in the end.

But, of course, Jesus isn’t telling a literal tale in today’s Bible reading. It’s a parable. A parable is a story told to direct the listener’s attention. In the Greek, “para” means “alongside” and “bole” means “to throw,” so a parable means to throw things alongside each other and see what emerges.[1] In this twisty parable, Jesus reveals the kingdom of heaven to the crowds and his disciples with wheat intentionally and quite nefariously sowed with weeds. It’s so like Jesus to describe the kingdom of God using images of creation: wheat, weeds, birds, trees, seeds, yeast. Jesus could have used other images like warriors, empire, navigation, music or others.[2] But he didn’t. Jesus used God’s creation as illustrations of the kingdom of heaven. New and tender baby wheat. Threatened by something so similar that removing it could harm the harvest.

The Gospel of Matthew spends some of its time trying to figure out who’s in and who’s out while intensely cautioning elsewhere to care for the least, the most fragile, the little ones.[3] In our parable today, the householder tells the enslaved farmers that it’s not their job to figure out the weeds from the wheat, the insiders from the outsiders. For the listeners of this parable, their task is to nurture the fullness of the kingdom of heaven to grow to maturity. Elsewhere in Matthew, Jesus said, “Blessed are the merciful…[and] blessed are the peacemakers.”[4] The same Jesus who said, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”[5] No single passage can hold the entirety of Jesus’ message but parables are meant to unsettle Jesus’ listeners, to make us wonder where the allegory calls us out of comfort and into following Jesus.[6]

Jesus didn’t ignore the weeds. He names them throughout Matthew’s gospel. He regularly and actively challenged his followers and the powers that be on behalf of the poor in spirit and the persecuted.[7] In the parable of the weeds and the wheat, he reminds the listener that it’s impossible to identify oneself as either weed or wheat. Although we tend to think of ourselves as wheat and that other people are nasty weeds, there may be weedier parts of us that, as the parable suggests, will be bundled for burning so that the wheatier parts of us can thrive while the ash can be used as farmers use it to enrich the existing soil.[8] I find the thought of being unburdened from a few of my own weeds both a challenge and a comfort.

Identifying weeds and wheat takes on the either/or proposition that we humans seem to fall into as much as the faith community in the Gospel of Matthew. One case in point is what’s known as “cancel culture.”[9] Canceling initially meant to boycott someone in power who has committed atrocious acts against other people. Canceling was a way for the community to reduce the power of people who abused their position of authority to hurt other people. It has evolved into cutting someone out of the conversation or canceling someone who even tries to negotiate a conversation with a perceived enemy so that constructive dialogue with opponents is not possible.[10]

Canceling reduces people to unworthy based on a moving target of ideological purity. It makes me wonder how long it will take before no one is ideologically pure enough to survive cancel culture. Before anyone gets on a high horse, this happens across political and cultural ideologies. No one is immune to the temptation to cancel or to the dismay of being canceled. One tweet or blog post or comment that doesn’t measure up to the purity code, and you’re out.

Canceling seems to move against every lesson that Jesus tells us about how grace works. No grace or transformation exists in cancel culture. It’s about social shaming. Nuance is lost as the humanity of the opponent is canceled. Violence becomes easier once opponents are dehumanized. Just like that, we’ve circled back to the parable of the wheat and the weeds; back to the either/or proposition of ideological purity. Ultimately, we’re back to the cross, where shame and ideological purity lead to inevitable violent death. And the earth groans in its shadow.

No wonder the whole earth is groaning as described in the Romans reading. The Apostle Paul who wrote the letter to the Romans, seldom used creation language. This is one of those rare times he writes about creation, much less so poetically. But first he dabbles in the first century inclination to pit our flesh against our spirit. Once again, the either/or proposition becomes oversimplified in such distinctions. Human beings are bodies AND spirits. However, the Apostle Paul makes a key theological move by indirectly placing the wheat-and-weeds-like distinction within each person. He makes an important claim that our whole selves wrestle with being saint and sinner at the same time. If you want to be Christian-fancy, you can quote Martin Luther’s “simul iustus et peccator” – simultaneously righteous and a sinner. The letter to the Romans describes it as adoption out of bondage to decay. That’s heavy-handed language but it gets at an important truth about our tendencies as earth’s creatures. Our hope rests in the comfort of adoption and the challenge of labor.

The metaphor of groaning in labor aptly describes our current moment. The groans of labor come from a deep, primal place, when the process is simply experienced. Oh sure, there’s coaching and catching the baby. But the process of labor itself will have its way. Pregnancy and labor are painful and hard but also expectant and hopeful. Translating that hope into our collective lives, maybe what we’re laboring through in this world will birth a society better equipped for 21^st century life together. We’re at a time when groans of despair are intermittently muted by shouts of rage. Not a lot of fun to be had, but there is hope. The kind of hope experienced by a laboring woman.

In the birth process, groaning in labor is active waiting. (Lest we think that we’re being encouraged by the Apostle Paul to hang out in a Barcalounger recliner while we wait.) Labor is active, sweaty, messy, painful waiting. Our adoption as children of God calls us into midwifery for a planet groaning in labor.

We’re called to be midwives of hope who can see the good and the beautiful alongside the hard and the painful, who are able to tend the sweet young wheat whilst knowing the weeds will simultaneously exist in each one of us and that others may need to be called on their weediness when they dehumanize and destroy. Being midwives of hope may mean being guided by the angels of our better nature to see the humanity in each person, in even our enemies, when we’re asked to align with false ideological purity over and against our fellow humans. Or to paraphrase Rev. Dr. King, “Let no one bring you so low as to hate them.” Or maybe a more apropos way to say it given this morning’s Bible reading from Romans would be to rely on our baptisms of adoption as children of God.

During the rite of baptism, we pray to God to:

“Sustain [the baptized] with the gift of your Holy Spirit: the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord, the spirit of joy in your presence, both now and forever. Amen.”

This baptismal prayer names the Holy Spirit as the One who empowers us as the adopted children of God to midwife the birth of hope through the labor of creation’s groanings. We’ve got this! Amen.

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[1] Karoline Lewis, Professor of Homiletics, Lutheran Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Discussion on the lectionary worship texts for Sunday, July 19, 2026. #1093: Eighth Sunday after Pentecost – July 19, 2026 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[2] Cody J. Sanders, Professor of Congregation and Community Care, Lutheran Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Discussion on the lectionary worship texts for Sunday, July 19, 2026. #1093: Eighth Sunday after Pentecost – July 19, 2026 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[3] Matthew 18:6

[4] Matthew 5:7 and 9

[5] Matthew 22:39

[6] Ibid, Sanders.

[7] Matthew 5:3 and 10

[8] What Does Ash Do For Soil? – Complete Soil Enrichment Guide – GardenerBible

[9] Merriam-Webster. “What It Means to Get ‘Canceled.’” https://www.merriam-webster.com/words-at-play/cancel-culture-words-were-watching#:~:text=The%20term%20has%20been%20credited,calls%20to%20cancel%20such%20figures.

[10] Petra Bueskens. An Apology to JK Rowling. June 23, 2020. Areo: Politics, Culture & Media. https://areomagazine.com/2020/06/23/an-apology-to-jk-rowling/

Pastor Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on June 14, 2026

[sermon begins after two Bible readings]

Romans 5:1-8 Since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, ² through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand, and we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God. ³ And not only that, but we also boast in our afflictions, knowing that affliction produces endurance, ⁴ and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, ⁵ and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.
⁶ For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. ⁷ Indeed, rarely will anyone die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person someone might actually dare to die. ⁸ But God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us.

Matthew 9:35-10:14 Jesus went about all the cities and villages, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness. ³⁶ When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. ³⁷ Then he said to his disciples, “The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; ³⁸ therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.”
^10:1 Then Jesus summoned his twelve disciples and gave them authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to cure every disease and every sickness. ² These are the names of the twelve apostles: first, Simon, also known as Peter, and his brother Andrew; James son of Zebedee and his brother John; ³ Philip and Bartholomew; Thomas and Matthew the tax collector; James son of Alphaeus and Thaddaeus; ⁴ Simon the Cananaean and Judas Iscariot, the one who betrayed him.
⁵ These twelve Jesus sent out with the following instructions: “Do not take a road leading to gentiles, and do not enter a Samaritan town, ⁶ but go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. ⁷ As you go, proclaim the good news, ‘The kingdom of heaven has come near.’ ⁸ Cure the sick; raise the dead; cleanse those with a skin disease; cast out demons. You received without payment; give without payment. [⁹ Take no gold, or silver, or copper in your belts, ¹⁰ no bag for your journey, or two tunics, or sandals, or a staff, for laborers deserve their food. ¹¹ Whatever town or village you enter, find out who in it is worthy, and stay there until you leave. ¹² As you enter the house, greet it. ¹³ If the house is worthy, let your peace come upon it, but if it is not worthy, let your peace return to you. ¹⁴ If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words, shake off the dust from your feet as you leave that house or town.

[sermon begins]

The positives about social media are rarely touted. That there’s anything to feel positive about is tough to imagine if you haven’t experienced it or you’ve experienced the opposite of it or you’re in recovery from addiction to it. Acknowledge that that’s a lot of “ifs,” humor me for a moment, if you would. Besides the fact that the socials connect me with childhood friends, extended family, and neighbors who don’t live on my street, the social medias give me ready access to my favorite cooks, artists, writers, comedians, professors, historians, and leadership experts. My Grandma Ruth, who was a librarian, would be stunned by the information at our fingertips. But what I find most amazing about the social medias is the human connections there, especially around health issues or grief and loss. I’m not talking about large scale events around the world. Our very human bodies aren’t designed to hold all the things all the time all at once.

I’m talking about when someone I know posts about the death of someone close to them, the compassion pouring towards them from the rest of us is immediate. Similarly, encouragement flies fast towards someone who is in the hospital or on the slow road of healing. Obviously, the encouragement isn’t sufficient to alleviate the suffering. But it is a human glimmer of hope as it can help people feel less alone. The social media example breaks down pretty quickly when it comes to biblical interpretation, just to say it out loud, but there is something to be said when we see support and encouragement play out in the world analogous to how we’re encouraged to be the church in the world.

As I preached last week, Jesus invited unlikely people to follow him. It’s no secret that God collects the unlikeliest people into God’s plan and sends them out to show love the world. It just surprises us when it happens. Today’s Bible story shows Jesus moved to compassion when he sees harassed and helpless crowds of people. He commissions his followers to heal the suffering that they see around them. The kingdom of heaven coming near brings practical help to hurting people. Jesus instructs his apostles to start with those closest to home, their fellow Jews. They already have a shared language and a shared God. They are a good place to start. As the apostles heal people, Jesus tells them to travel light and hold their message lightly when there’s resistance. Dust off your feet and keep moving, he tells them. Jesus prompts urgency because people are suffering.

Suffering cannot be compared. It’s a lot like beauty that way. What’s more beautiful—the fiery orange of a Colorado sunset or the riotous tumble of pink peonies? It’s a ridiculous question. Suffering is similar. Being with someone who is suffering for any reason is NOT a time to get into qualifying their experience, giving a different take on it, or redirecting them to someone else’s experience of suffering worse than they are. That stuff is the opposite of helpful. Being with someone who is suffering IS a time to listen and to wonder. It’s a time to share their burden by holding space for it without rushing to comfort. Sharing the burden lightens the suffering without imagining that it can be taken away.

Suffering is something the Apostle Paul seemed to deeply understand in his letter to the fledgling Roman church. How often do you suppose he cried out to God withOUT a pen in hand? It must have been a lot given his transformation from the one punishing the earliest Christians to the one being beaten, stoned, and imprisoned for his faith.[1] He knew suffering intimately to be able to write about suffering as he only he could. He knew suffering like a friend, just like he knew God as a friend.

If you would, open your worship bulletin to the Romans reading again. In verse 8, Paul connects God’s love to the cross. Love is the heart of the matter for Paul as he pivots into the next four chapters of his letter.[2] Now look at the end of verse 3 and follow along with me:

…affliction produces endurance, ⁴and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, ⁵and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.”

The Apostle Paul is talking to all of us. One reason his words about affliction and suffering resonate so strongly is because he describes what he knows and what we know. He knows enough to be comforting. Comfort is no small thing. It’s not appeasement – meaning I’m not making you feel better so that I feel better. Comfort is deep knowing shared across our human experience. Most of us have experienced suffering and still we live on. Some of us live in the struggle but still we live. Paul’s account of moving from affliction to endurance to character to hope is a description not a strategy. He describes what we know by faith and experience about how suffering works. There are days in the midst of it that we wonder how it’s possible to make it through. Days in which we’re not sure who we are anymore. And then, in the body of Christ, the church, we’re reminded once again of the main things – God’s promises to us no matter what is happening.

Paul talks about affliction, endurance, character, and hope NOT as a way to redemption. We’re not better people because we suffer. We’re not made more pure because we suffer. Rather, sometimes we see more easily what’s most important when we are suffering. Paul alludes to it in Romans and later writes in Corinthians that the most important thing, the greatest thing, is love.[3] As much as Paul likes theology, he’s not solving a theological problem here, he’s encouraging the first century churches that God’s story is a love story. God’s love story about how God demonstrates God’s love for people through action, through Jesus’ self-sacrificing death on the cross. The cross defies explanation but insists that it reveals love.[4] Divine love. God’s love.

We’re at a time on the planet when the church is especially positioned to talk about being human and to simply be human together. Pope Leo just wrote a formal encyclical about the grandeur of being human and being human together in the age of Artificial Intelligence. Organizational thinkers are reflecting on our shared humanity and what it means to think and work together with A.I. and without it. Artists and musicians are creating purely human expressions of our experience—both the beauty and the pain of being human. Church is an inherently human experience encountering the divine.

Jesus connected his followers with each other, coached them, and sent them out to heal. As he prepared them to deal with conflict, he also gave them hope. Hope that healing was possible through their hands because they were sent by God who loves the world.

God’s love is known through action. For the church, we’re promised God’s action in Jesus. Jesus’ ministry of love and justice while he walked the earth. Jesus’ death on a cross revealing the depth of divine love. Jesus present in water, bread, and wine so that we become the mercy and love that we receive. God’s love certainly isn’t limited to God’s church, but we are commissioned into God’s work of love, of healing, of hope for the sake of the world. “Because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” Thanks be to God. And amen.

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[1] Acts 7 (when Paul was still Saul); Acts chapters 9, 13, 14, 16, 18, 21, 22, and 23.

[2] Matt Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Sermon Brainwave Podcast #908: Third Sunday after Pentecost – June 18, 2023.

[3] 1 Corinthians 13:13

[4] Ibid., Skinner.

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on December 21, 2025

[sermon begins after three short Bible readings – hang in there]

Matthew 1:18-25 Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be pregnant from the Holy Spirit. ¹⁹ Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to divorce her quietly. ²⁰ But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. ²¹ She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” ²² All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:
²³ “Look, the virgin shall become pregnant and give birth to a son,
and they shall name him Emmanuel,”
which means, “God is with us.” ²⁴ When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife ²⁵ but had no marital relations with her until she had given birth to a son, and he named him Jesus.

Isaiah 7:10-16  The Lord spoke to Ahaz, saying, ¹¹ “Ask a sign of the Lord your God; let it be deep as Sheol or high as heaven.” ¹² But Ahaz said, “I will not ask, and I will not put the Lord to the test.” ¹³ Then Isaiah said, “Hear then, O house of David! Is it too little for you to weary mortals that you weary my God also? ¹⁴ Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign. Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son and shall name him Immanuel. ¹⁵ He shall eat curds and honey by the time he knows how to refuse the evil and choose the good. ¹⁶ For before the child knows how to refuse the evil and choose the good, the land before whose two kings you are in dread will be deserted.”

Romans 1:1-7 Paul, a servant of Christ Jesus, called to be an apostle, set apart for the gospel of God, ² which he promised beforehand through his prophets in the holy scriptures, ³ the gospel concerning his Son, who was descended from David according to the flesh ⁴ and was declared to be Son of God with power according to the spirit of holiness by resurrection from the dead, Jesus Christ our Lord, ⁵ through whom we have received grace and apostleship to bring about the obedience of faith among all the gentiles for the sake of his name, ⁶ including you who are called to belong to Jesus Christ,
⁷ To all God’s beloved in Rome, who are called to be saints:
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

[sermon begins]

O come, o come, Emmanuel.   We sang from longing hearts of an impossible hope as we gathered for worship today. We sang the seven names of the One for whom we wait during Advent. All seven come from the first several chapters of the Bible’s book of Isaiah and are traditionally sung in the last seven days of Advent—one per day. The prophet Isaiah lived about 700 years before Jesus at a time when the Assyrians were gobbling up territories for their empire and had begun a slow march towards Judah and Jerusalem. The poignant poetry of the hymn ties us to these ancient Jewish roots of impossible hope in the face of overwhelming odds.[1] The impossible hope of ancient people is invoked in Paul’s letter to the Roman church and the reading from Matthew’s gospel.

Paul greets the Roman church with the words of the prophet Isaiah who referred to servants of God’s household bringing the good news of God’s restoration.[2] As God’s servant, Paul expands the ancient impossible hope of the Jews to include everyone else, a.k.a. the gentiles. Us. In Advent, we remember that the birth of Jesus is not the beginning a story but the continuation of an ancient one birthed by Sarah and Abraham, freed by Moses, and led by negligent kings challenged by pesky prophets like Isaiah.

Matthew opens his gospel with a genealogy of Jesus right up through Joseph. Then, there’s a BIG wrinkle. Mary is pregnant with a growing, impossible hope. Over time, we’ve learned to tell this complicated story in a simple way. So simple that even a child can tell it. Last week our young friends here at Augustana put on costumes, learned their timing, and preached the story of Jesus through fun and funny lines. Their telling of this good news was a mash-up from the gospels of Luke and Matthew and called, “The Newest Angel,” including Joseph’s surprise at Mary’s pregnancy and how he planned to unburden himself from it.

The gospel writer gives the summary:

“Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit.”

That’s it. Nothing flashy. But there is someone who gets a newsflash. Joseph. His betrothed, Mary, is pregnant and he is not the father. His hopes crushed. Confronted with the news, his initial plan is legal. Dismiss Mary in divorce. Send her on her way quietly, saving her from public disgrace but shattering her private hopes. Joseph justifies his position. Not only in his own mind but in the eyes of the law. No harm, no foul. He is good to go. Legal. Justified. Resolved.

“But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream.”[3]

The angel, the Lord’s messenger, thwarts Joseph’s justified resolve and instills hope once more. It’s rough when a good resolve swirls down the drain. Resolve feels good. It feels right and powerful, knowing what to do. Powerlessness? Not so much. Here’s a clue to part of the good news today. If there’s room for Joseph in the nativity story, then there is room for me, and there is room for you.[4]

Our personal stories are stories within stories. Many of us have stories that sound either too good to be true or too mind-bending to be believed. If we were sitting in a small space with just a few of us and enough time, we’d hear surprising stories that connect us in their depth and in their truth. Stories that create who we are and how we move through the world but sometimes surprise even ourselves the telling. How many of us get used to telling our strange tales of impossible hope that have become normal in our own lives but surprise other people. Jesus’ birth story is along this line for Christians. We tell a strange tale, my friends. We celebrate it in sacred scripture. We sing about it. We display nativities representing Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. But it’s a strange one.

The good news is that there’s room for us in the Nativity story because Joseph’s first instinct was to resolve a problem on his own. But then he is invited into grace. The angel tells Joseph to take Mary as his wife and to name the baby conceived by the Holy Spirit, “Jesus.” The angel’s annunciation in Matthew’s gospel is to Joseph and not to Mary.[5] The angel tells an unexpected, mysterious story. A story that doesn’t amount to anything he can share with friends as justification for staying with Mary, especially considering the vague paternity. And, still, he obeys the angel and extends grace to Mary.

Joseph obeys and offers Mary grace without any knowledge of what this means. Just around the corner, what he can’t see is the visit from the magi from the east. Strange people from a faraway place who come to visit Jesus with gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.[6] He can’t see the magi’s decision to thwart King Herod.[7] He can’t see King Herod’s edict to slaughter all infants and toddlers less than two years old because they may or may not be the rumored Messiah.[8] He can’t see his and Mary’s escape and refuge in Egypt.[9] There’s so much that Joseph can’t see when he agrees to take Mary as his wife and name the baby Jesus.

James Harnish, a long-time Christian pastor, recalls a story from when he was in college. He went to see a professor with a very intelligent friend who had a lot of questions about his faith and was frustrated by the simplistic answers people gave him. His friend asked the professor, “How can I [follow] Christ when I don’t know all that it will mean?” The professor answered, “None of us knows all that it’s going to mean, but we know enough [to follow Christ] and we spend the rest of our lives finding out what it means.”[10]

Joseph is obedient without an “i” dotted or “t” crossed. Some of us see ourselves in Joseph because, like him, our resolve to do what we want can be thwarted by grace. We do not save ourselves from ourselves. The name “Jesus” means “God saves” or “God is salvation.”[11] He will be born and named Jesus “for he will save his people from their sins.” Week-after-week we scratch the surface of what this means for us. Some of us wonder about intellectual problems raised by scripture that don’t jive with our experience or knowledge. Some of us struggle with the mystery and want it solved so that then we can have faith. Some of us are drawn to action on behalf of people who need help but don’t know where to start or how to keep going. Some of us long for an answer to suffering. For all of us in those moments, Joseph is our guy.

In light of Joseph’s lack of information, his obedience to the angel’s wild request is shocking, confusing, and disturbing.[12] If we let it, our familiarity with Jesus’ birth story means that our quiet, matter-of-fact way of telling it can oversimplify what God is doing all around us. God’s audacity in slipping into powerless, vulnerable skin is echoed by Joseph’s powerless vulnerability as well as our own. Like Joseph, we spend the rest of our lives figuring out what it means to follow Jesus. Like Joseph, we watch, wait, and wonder as Emmanuel, God with us, shows up. Our familiarity can oversimplify our Advent waiting, too. In Advent, we remember that Jesus’ birth is the continuation of an ancient story. Jesus Christ has come.[13] Also, in Advent we know that his birth isn’t the end of the story.[14] Jesus Christ will come.[15] Advent is a pregnant pause as we look ahead with impossible hope for God’s renewal, restoration, and peace by the grace of God.[16]

_______________________________________________________

[1] Joel B. Green, Senior Professor of New Testament Interpretation, Fuller Theological Seminary, Pasadena, CA. Commentary on Romans 1:1-7 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary for December 21, 2025.

[2] Isaiah 40:9, 52:7

[3] Matthew 1:20

[4] James Harnish. When God Comes Down. (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2012), 20.

[5] Eugene Park, Professor of New Testament San Francisco Theological Seminary of the University of Redlands San Anselmo, CA. Commentary on Matthew 1:18-25 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary for December 21, 2025.

[6] Matthew 2:1-11

[7] Matthew 1:8 and 12

[8] Matthew 2:16-18

[9] Matthew 2:13-15

[10] Harnish, 23.

[11] Park, ibid.

[12] Harnish, 19.

[13] Fleming Rutledge. Advent: The Once and Future Coming of Jesus Christ (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans Publishing Co, 2018), 266.

[14] Green, ibid.

[15] Rutledge, ibid.

[16] Ibid.

__________________________________________________________

[sermon begins after two Bible readings–hang in there through the Philemon reading, it’s worth it); the Psalm and Deuteronomy readings are at the end of the sermon.]

Luke 14:25-33  Now large crowds were traveling with [Jesus], and he turned and said to them, ²⁶ “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. ²⁷ Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple. ²⁸ For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it? ²⁹ Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it will begin to ridicule him, ³⁰ saying, ‘This fellow began to build and was not able to finish.’ ³¹ Or what king, going out to wage war against another king, will not sit down first and consider whether he is able with ten thousand to oppose the one who comes against him with twenty thousand? ³² If he cannot, then while the other is still far away, he sends a delegation and asks for the terms of peace. ³³ So therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.”

Philemon, the whole one chapter book: Paul, a prisoner of Christ Jesus, and Timothy our brother,
To our beloved coworker Philemon, ² to our sister Apphia, to our fellow soldier Archippus, and to the church in your house:
³ Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
⁴ I thank my God always when I mention you in my prayers, ⁵ because I hear of your love for all the saints and your faith toward the Lord Jesus. ⁶ I pray that the partnership of your faith may become effective as you comprehend all the good that we share in Christ. ⁷ I have indeed received much joy and encouragement from your love, because the hearts of the saints have been refreshed through you, my brother.
⁸ For this reason, though I am more than bold enough in Christ to command you to do the right thing, ⁹ yet I would rather appeal to you on the basis of love—and I, Paul, do this as an old man and now also as a prisoner of Christ Jesus. ¹⁰ I am appealing to you for my child, Onesimus, whose father I have become during my imprisonment. ¹¹ Formerly he was useless to you, but now he is indeed useful to you and to me. ¹² I am sending him, that is, my own heart, back to you. ¹³ I wanted to keep him with me so that he might minister to me in your place during my imprisonment for the gospel, ¹⁴ but I preferred to do nothing without your consent in order that your good deed might be voluntary and not something forced. ¹⁵ Perhaps this is the reason he was separated from you for a while, so that you might have him back for the long term, ¹⁶ no longer as a slave but more than a slave, a beloved brother—especially to me but how much more to you, both in the flesh and in the Lord.
¹⁷ So if you consider me your partner, welcome him as you would welcome me. ¹⁸ If he has wronged you in any way or owes you anything, charge that to me. ¹⁹ I, Paul, am writing this with my own hand: I will repay it. I say nothing about your owing me even your own self. ²⁰ Yes, brother, let me have this benefit from you in the Lord! Refresh my heart in Christ. ²¹ Confident of your obedience, I am writing to you, knowing that you will do even more than I ask.
²² One thing more: prepare a guest room for me, for I am hoping through your prayers to be restored to you.
²³ Epaphras, my fellow prisoner in Christ Jesus, sends greetings to you, ²⁴ and so do Mark, Aristarchus, Demas, and Luke, my coworkers.
²⁵ The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit.

[sermon begins]

I was driving out of my neighborhood and stopped at a red light. Six feet from my car stood an older gentleman waiting at the crosswalk with a massive red rolling suitcase on his way to catch the light rail. The intersection was packed with cars. I was wearing my pastor collar heading to church to do a funeral. Suddenly, the man looked at me, started smiling widely and moving exuberantly, making huge signs of the cross in my direction. Left hand clutching the roller handle, right palm out towards me, he flung his arm as tall as his hand could go, then down, then side to side. He did this several times and then crossed himself. I couldn’t help but smile and laugh with him.

His exuberance was infectious. He was right there on the corner. Six feet from my car. It finally occurred to me to return his blessing for the few brief moments that the light was still red. There we were, blessing each other, blessing ourselves, and laughing together. The light changed and we parted ways delighted by joy. The other people in cars had no idea that I was in a pastor’s collar or what inspired the man to make the sign of the cross at my bright green car or that I was returning his blessing. I’d love to hear THEM tell the story. What was clear was that there was nothing that was going to stop this man from blessing me. He may have been on the way to the light rail station, but he was definitely on the Way of Jesus.

Meanwhile, in his letter to Philemon about Onesimus’ enslavement, Paul was figuring out the Way of Jesus without much to go on by way of precedent or road map.[1] No one knew how to welcome a slave into the Way of Jesus. Paul didn’t know what the consequences would be for Onesimus or anyone else. Could it be dangerous for Onesimus? But with love and courage, he implored Philemon to reconfigure the enslaver/enslaved relationship into a family relationship. From slave to brother. A radical request.

This tiny, one chapter book in the Bible was used in our own country and across countries during the Transatlantic slave trade to justify the enslavement of Black African people by White Christians as a gentle, merciful, and kind act to make people’s lives better.[2] Not only COULD those 19^th century enslavers justify their actions but they SHOULD enslave people to save them from an uncivilized, unChristian life. The 19^th century abolitionists also used Philemon to work AGAINST slavery, claiming that Paul’s letter upended the relationship between the enslaver and the enslaved person. Find your home Bible or hop online and read Philemon with fresh eyes. As a Roman citizen, Paul was caught in the slavery norm of the empire. As a Jew, Paul remembered the Egyptian enslavement of his people and the Exodus led by Moses that freed them. He was in new territory as a follower of the Way of Jesus and a preacher of Christ and him crucified.[3] So goes the Biblical bind of the ethical interpretation of scripture.

The Biblical bind of ethical interpretation is a helpful caution on “God’s work. Our hands.” Sunday. Our desire to follow Christ towards the very people left out of human dignity, justice, and flourishing can result in unintended consequences for those very people. It’s not a reason not to help. But it is a caution when we choose life as commanded in the Deuteronomy text or delight in the law of the Lord as instructed in Psalm 1. We do the work of God for the life and delight of all people, for God’s sake, and for the sake of the world. The minute we turn in on ourselves and make it about the church is the minute we miss the point. Understanding God’s mission for us is a good example of law and gospel. The gospel, which means the good news of Jesus, frees us to be people of courage and people of hope, knowing that God’s mission of life, love, and human flourishing is necessarily for each one of us, too.

At the same time that the gospel frees us, the law convicts us. The law is the command that Jesus gives us. Jesus said:

“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ ³⁸ This is the greatest and first commandment. ³⁹ And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ ⁴⁰ On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.”[4]

And we are to delight in that law, says the Psalmist, even though there is a cost to being on the Way of Jesus. Jesus’ stinging words about family in the Luke reading jolt his listeners into awareness. In the first century, family was essential to survival. He had their attention. Jesus hits on three things that we love a lot—life itself, our immediate family, and our money.[5] Loving these things are prioritized elsewhere in the Bible as good things so we know that Jesus is emphasizing something big with his intense delivery.

What are we to make of Jesus’ teaching as we follow his way while also loving these things? ARE we too quick to make idols of them? Meaning, are life, family, and money really just self-absorption in disguise? Or is it more complicated, is Jesus challenging us to consider the cost of discipleship over time? Following the Way of Jesus changes who you are, how you love and who you love.[6] Following Jesus’ Way changes how we spend our money and what we think about our stuff. Persistence over time gives us perspective as we learn the Way. We’re not expected to know all the things there are to know about the destination or what perfection looks like. Remember, there is nothing you can do or not do to make God love you any more or any less.

When Jesus commands us to love our neighbor, it’s not optional. It’s essential to who we are and to whom we belong. The good news is that the gospel frees us to love our neighbor with wild abandon and exuberant delight, unafraid of looking ridiculous at intersections. Unafraid of speaking out and showing up with all of our neighbors—immigrants, LGBTQ, Palestinian and Jew, unhoused, and hungry. All. Our. Neighbors. Unafraid of making mistakes while being thoughtful in our exuberance to minimize mistakes so that God’s mission of human flourishing in God’s image and for God’s kingdom purpose takes hold. “God’s work. Our hands.” Indeed, and amen. [Exuberantly making the sign of the cross towards the people.]

_____________________________________________________-

[1] Matt Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Sermon Brainwave podcast on worship readings for 9/7/2025. #1040: Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost (Ord. 23C) – September 07, 2025 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[2] Skinner, ibid.

[3] 1 Corinthians 2:1-5 (verse 2 “Jesus Christ and him crucified.”)

[4] Matthew 22:37-40

[5] Rolf Jacobson, Professor of Old Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Sermon Brainwave podcast on worship readings for 9/7/2025. #1040: Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost (Ord. 23C) – September 07, 2025 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[6] Skinner, ibid.

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Deuteronomy 30:15-20 “Choose life.”

“See, I have set before you today life and prosperity, death and adversity. ¹⁶ If you obey the commandments of the Lord your God that I am commanding you today, by loving the Lord your God, walking in his ways, and observing his commandments, decrees, and ordinances, then you shall live and become numerous, and the Lord your God will bless you in the land that you are entering to possess. ¹⁷ But if your heart turns away and you do not hear but are led astray to bow down to other gods and serve them, ¹⁸ I declare to you today that you shall certainly perish; you shall not live long in the land that you are crossing the Jordan to enter and possess. ¹⁹ I call heaven and earth to witness against you today that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life so that you and your descendants may live, ²⁰ loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him, for that means life to you and length of days, so that you may live in the land that the Lord swore to give to your ancestors, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob.”

Psalm 1 “Their delight is in the law of the Lord.”

¹ Happy are they who have not walked in the counsel of the wicked, nor lingered in the way of sinners, nor sat in the seats of the scornful!
² Their delight is in the law of the Lord,
and they meditate on God’s teaching  day and night. 
³ They are like trees planted by streams of water, bearing fruit in due season, with leaves that do not wither; everything they do shall prosper.
⁴ It is not so with the wicked;
they are like chaff which the wind blows away.
⁵ Therefore the wicked shall not stand upright when judgment comes, nor the sinner in the council of the righteous.
⁶ For the Lord knows the way of the righteous,
but the way of the wicked shall be destroyed.

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on June 29, 2025, on the feast day honoring the Apostles Peter and Paul

[sermon begins after two Bible readings – the third reading is at the end of the sermon]

John 21:15-19 When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.” ¹⁶ A second time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Tend my sheep.” ¹⁷ He said to him the third time, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” And he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep. ¹⁸ Very truly, I tell you, when you were younger, you used to fasten your own belt and to go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go.” ¹⁹ (He said this to indicate the kind of death by which he would glorify God.) After this he said to him, “Follow me.”

2 Timothy 4:6-8, 17-18 As for me, I am already being poured out as a libation, and the time of my departure has come. ⁷ I have fought the good fight; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith. ⁸ From now on there is reserved for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will give me on that day, and not only to me but also to all who have longed for his appearing.
¹⁷ But the Lord stood by me and gave me strength, so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed and all the gentiles might hear it. So I was rescued from the lion’s mouth. ¹⁸ The Lord will rescue me from every evil attack and save me for his heavenly kingdom. To him be the glory forever and ever. Amen.

[sermon begins]

It was a stunning, bluebird day in Colorado. Hope was in the air. My long hair was pony-tailed under a white hard hat with my name taped to the front of it. T-shirt and overalls were donned as I prepared to paint at a “clergy Habitat build” back in the day. Both of my internship pastors from Bethany were there, as were clergy from many faiths including Christian denominations across the Metro Denver area. (Although, unleashing clergy en masse on a project is questionable.) We muddled through our morning of good deeds and broke for lunch. Sitting down on a curb with my sandwich and bag of chips felt well-earned. A pastor about 20 years my senior sat down next to me, and he started a get-to-know-you conversation that included our denominational affiliation. This bit of information changed the tone. He asked what I thought about the ELCA’s vote to call gay clergy and bless same-sex partners.[1] (The ELCA is our flavor of Lutherans.) It would be another six years until the Supreme Court legalized same-sex marriage across the country on June 26, 2015.[2]

In August 2009, a few months before my lunch chat with that pastor, the ELCA Churchwide Assembly had just lifted its ban to call LGBTQ+ pastors and deacons, and I was thrilled for my LGBTQ seminary peers and friends even as the weirdness of voting about a group of people rankled me. I had exactly three years of seminary under my belt (after being a nurse for many years) and was a few months into my pastoral internship before graduating. Turns out that the pastor eating his sandwich next to me at that Habitat build was not interested in having a conversational exchange of ideas. He wanted to tell me that I was wrong and that the ELCA was wrong, and he used scripture to do it.

These days, I’m better equipped to talk about the 7 verses in the whole Bible that allegedly address LGBTQ concerns, the 50 Bible verses in which Jesus talks about love, the 250 Bible verses in which Jesus talks about money, and the ZERO Bible verses in which Jesus has anything to say on the topic of LGBTQ folks. ZERO. More about scriptural authority and LGBTQ folks are in my June 1^st sermon at the beginning of Pride Month. At that clergy build in 2009, I was ill-prepared. After many long minutes of going back-and-forth, here’s what I finally said to that pastor. “I hang my hat on Jesus’ teaching when he said that greater love hath no one than to lay one’s life down for one’s friends—so I’m going to err on the side of love and go get another sandwich.”[3] I stood up and did just that while internally I was shaking like a leaf.

Looking back, it was but a small moment of courage. Nothing even close to the martyrdom of the Apostles Peter and Paul whose ministries we’re honoring today. The Bible readings include Peter’s prisonbreak aided by the angel, Paul’s summary in his letter to Timothy as he nods to the end of his ministry AND his life, and Jesus’ questioning Peter about his love.

Paul was reflecting on his proclamation of the message to all the Gentiles. Paul was a Jew who proclaimed an expansion of God’s love given through the Jewish people by way of Jesus to everyone else. It was a radical message of who belonged to God. When Paul talked about being poured out, he likely meant that he was being poured out like a drink offering. [4] The Greek verb spendo, which means to pour out, is used in only one other place and that’s in Paul’s letter to the Philippians.[5] Paul’s meaning is that his life and his death had been an offering to God. The authorities might indeed kill him, but Paul uses this language to say that he offers his life back to God who carries his life through this death.[6] By Paul’s example, we learn that living as a gospel people means that our lives are an offering to God.

By Peter’s example, we learn that the love of Jesus means that we love Jesus’ people as Jesus renews Peter’s call to follow him. Three times, Jesus asks Peter if he loves him. Three times, Peter says, “Yes.” Three times, Jesus tells Peter to feed his sheep. Not Peter’s sheep. Jesus’ sheep. No one belongs to us. We all belong to God through Jesus’ death and resurrection, through Jesus pouring out of himself.

Years ago, during my first interview with Augustana, the Call Committee asked what I would fight for. I answered that I would fight for the gospel. The gospel means the good news of Jesus is for everyone. The good news that there’s nothing you can do or not do to make God love you any more or any less is expressed with words like grace, forgiveness, freedom, and hope. There are times when the gospel for everyone means that we turn to particular groups of people to say that the gospel is for them, too. Today’s celebration of the Apostles, Peter and Paul, is a nod towards exactly that. They risked everything, including their lives, to preach the good news of Jesus to Gentiles. Gentile means non-Jew. The earliest Jesus followers were Jews. Jesus was a Jew. Jesus began the Gentile movement that expanded their inclusion in his Way of hope and freedom. He was ultimately killed for it by the Roman Empire and Jewish religious leaders. Peter and Paul continued the Gentile movement, and they were also martyred as threats to the empire. God’s grace and freedom are just that powerful when you’re no longer dividing people as insiders and outsiders and pitting them against each other.

Pitting people against each other is the worst of identity politics. No one wins when we’re riled up by the differences that are used to divide us. The best of identity politics happens when people work together to solve a cultural challenge with groups of people who have been treated as “less than,” and whose lives are made more difficult because who they are doesn’t fit into accepted cultural norms.[7] Examples of productive identity politics are the Women’s Suffrage movement of the 19^th century that lasted 80 years and led to women being able to vote in this country and the Civil Rights movement of the 20^th century that lasted 15 years and gained equal rights under the law for Black Americans. In the early church, Peter and Paul made sure that the Gentiles knew they were included in God’s love through the cross of Christ—arguably one of the earliest identity politics movements. Augustana in Denver is a Christian church today because Jesus and his earliest Jewish followers like Peter and Paul fully proclaimed the gospel to all the Gentiles. Us. Let’s take good care not to throw the baby out with the baptismal water when we declare that all identity politics are bad for humanity. The argument for identity politics is more nuanced than that.

Last Sunday, we had a teacher here from The Center on Colfax who instructed us in LGBTQ+ basics.[8] She was utterly grace-filled while responding to our questions and teaching us to use the acronym LGBTQ+. We learned what those letters mean to people who use them to identify themselves. We learned again that we can’t know all the things as she encouraged us to keep learning so that we can better affirm LGBTQ+ members, friends, family, and communities. The wider church has work to do in this regard and our small corner of the church does too.

Which brings me to the difference between acceptance versus affirmation. Acceptance is an ambiguous live-and-let-live posture. Whereas affirmation celebrates LGBTQ+ folks as created by God to be themselves in the world. Just as same sex behavior exists throughout the animal kingdom across species, it exists in humans, too.[9] You can check out the footnote in my sermon or do a web search. Seek to understand. There’s so much to know and affirm. Pride weekend is a good time to be curious as we celebrate and affirm LGBTQ+ folks.

Jesus’ call to love involves risk. Peter and Paul embodied the risk of love taken to the extreme. Most of us are called by Jesus’ love to smaller acts of courage. When we err, we err boldly on the side of love, fueled by God’s grace that dares us to live into the promise of God’s unconditional love for the sake of the world God so loves. Amen.

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[1] John Dart. “Study process aided ELCA breakthrough: Third denomination to accept gay clergy. September 22, 2009.  Study process aided ELCA gay breakthrough: Third denomination to accept gay clergy | The Christian Century

[2] Same-sex marriage is made legal nationwide with Obergefell v. Hodges decision | June 26, 2015 | HISTORY

[3] John 15:13 No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.

[4] Stephen Fowl, President and Dean, Church Divinity School of the Pacific, Berkeley, CA. Commentary on 2 Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18. October 23, 2022. Commentary on 2 Timothy 4:6-8, 16-18 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[5] Ibid. (Philippians 2:17)

[6] Ibid.

[7] Karen Dienst. “Gutmann examines ‘the good, the bad, and the ugly” of identity politics. Princeton – Weekly Bulletin 3/24/03 – Gutmann examines ‘the good, the bad and the ugly’ of identity politics

[8] The Center on Colfax – LGBTQ Colorado

[9] Karen A. Anderson et al, PLOS One, 19(6), June 20, 2024.  Same-sex sexual behaviour among mammals is widely observed, yet seldomly reported: Evidence from an online expert survey – PMC

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Acts 12:1-11 About that time King Herod laid violent hands upon some who belonged to the church. ² He had James, the brother of John, killed with the sword. ³ After he saw that it pleased the Jews, he proceeded to arrest Peter also. (This was during the Festival of Unleavened Bread.) ⁴ When he had seized him, he put him in prison and handed him over to four squads of soldiers to guard him, intending to bring him out to the people after the Passover. ⁵ While Peter was kept in prison, the church prayed fervently to God for him.

⁶ The very night before Herod was going to bring him out, Peter, bound with two chains, was sleeping between two soldiers, while guards in front of the door were keeping watch over the prison. ⁷ Suddenly an angel of the Lord appeared, and a light shone in the cell. He tapped Peter on the side and woke him, saying, “Get up quickly.” And the chains fell off his wrists. ⁸ The angel said to him, “Fasten your belt and put on your sandals.” He did so. Then he said to him, “Wrap your cloak around you and follow me.” ⁹ Peter went out and followed him; he did not realize that what was happening with the angel’s help was real; he thought he was seeing a vision. ¹⁰ After they had passed the first and the second guard, they came before the iron gate leading into the city. It opened for them of its own accord, and they went outside and walked along a lane, when suddenly the angel left him. ¹¹ Then Peter came to himself and said, “Now I am sure that the Lord has sent his angel and rescued me from the hands of Herod and from all that the Jewish people were expecting.”

[sermon begins after two longish Bible stories, hang in there, they’re great stories; the Revelation and Psalm readings are at the end of the sermon.]

Acts 9:1-20  Saul, still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord, went to the high priest ² and asked him for letters to the synagogues at Damascus, so that if he found any who belonged to the Way, men or women, he might bring them bound to Jerusalem. ³ Now as he was going along and approaching Damascus, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. ⁴ He fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to him, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” ⁵ He asked, “Who are you, Lord?” The reply came, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. ⁶ But get up and enter the city, and you will be told what you are to do.” [⁷ The men who were traveling with him stood speechless because they heard the voice but saw no one. ⁸ Saul got up from the ground, and though his eyes were open, he could see nothing; so they led him by the hand and brought him into Damascus. ⁹ For three days he was without sight, and neither ate nor drank.
¹⁰ Now there was a disciple in Damascus named Ananias. The Lord said to him in a vision, “Ananias.” He answered, “Here I am, Lord.” ¹¹ The Lord said to him, “Get up and go to the street called Straight, and at the house of Judas look for a man of Tarsus named Saul. At this moment he is praying, ¹² and he has seen in a vision a man named Ananias come in and lay his hands on him so that he might regain his sight.” ¹³ But Ananias answered, “Lord, I have heard from many about this man, how much evil he has done to your saints in Jerusalem; ¹⁴ and here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who invoke your name.” ¹⁵ But the Lord said to him, “Go, for he is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel; ¹⁶ I myself will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name.” ¹⁷ So Ananias went and entered the house. He laid his hands on Saul and said, “Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on your way here, has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit.” ¹⁸ And immediately something like scales fell from his eyes, and his sight was restored. Then he got up and was baptized, ¹⁹ and after taking some food, he regained his strength.

For several days he was with the disciples in Damascus, ²⁰ and immediately he began to proclaim Jesus in the synagogues, saying, “He is the Son of God.”]

John 21:1-19  After [he appeared to his followers in Jerusalem,] Jesus showed himself again to the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias; and he showed himself in this way. ² Gathered there together were Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin, Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two others of his disciples. ³ Simon Peter said to them, “I am going fishing.” They said to him, “We will go with you.” They went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.
⁴ Just after daybreak, Jesus stood on the beach; but the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. ⁵ Jesus said to them, “Children, you have no fish, have you?” They answered him, “No.” ⁶ He said to them, “Cast the net to the right side of the boat, and you will find some.” So they cast it, and now they were not able to haul it in because there were so many fish. ⁷ That disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, “It is the Lord!” When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on some clothes, for he was naked, and jumped into the sea. ⁸ But the other disciples came in the boat, dragging the net full of fish, for they were not far from the land, only about a hundred yards off.
⁹ When they had gone ashore, they saw a charcoal fire there, with fish on it, and bread. ¹⁰ Jesus said to them, “Bring some of the fish that you have just caught.” ¹¹ So Simon Peter went aboard and hauled the net ashore, full of large fish, a hundred fifty-three of them; and though there were so many, the net was not torn. ¹² Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.” Now none of the disciples dared to ask him, “Who are you?” because they knew it was the Lord. ¹³ Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and did the same with the fish. ¹⁴ This was now the third time that Jesus appeared to the disciples after he was raised from the dead.
¹⁵ When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.” ¹⁶ A second time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Tend my sheep.” ¹⁷ He said to him the third time, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” And he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep. ¹⁸ Very truly, I tell you, when you were younger, you used to fasten your own belt and to go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go.” ¹⁹ (He said this to indicate the kind of death by which he would glorify God.) After this he said to him, “Follow me.”

[sermon begins]

When I left pediatric oncology nursing for seminary to be a pastor, my mother made me promise to keep up my nursing license in case the pastor gig didn’t work out. To this day, almost exactly 20 years after leaving the oncology unit at Children’s Hospital, I have an active Registered Nurse license in my wallet. You know, in case things don’t work out. It’s good to have a backup plan. I wonder if the disciples’ moms had similar advice after the crucifixion debacle: Well, child, the way of Jesus flamed out but fishing, now that’s dependable.

In his third recorded appearance after the resurrection, Jesus showed up lakeside to find the disciples backsliding into their backup plan. Fishing but catching nothing. So far, no good. But this is the Jesus of abundant life. Jesus who changed water into more fine wine than anyone could drink at that wedding in Cana.[1] Jesus who fed the 5,000.[2] In our resurrection story today, Jesus found his disciples after they’d caught nothing. They listened to him and caught sooo many fish. Then Jesus broiled them a fish and bread brunch over a charcoal fire.

What happens next is astonishing, Jesus doesn’t shame, blame, or forgive Peter for Peter’s denials at Jesus’ trial.[3] Jesus renews Peter’s call to follow him. Three times Jesus asks Peter if he loves him. Three times Peter says, “Yes.” Three times, Jesus tells Peter to feed his sheep. Not Peter’s sheep. Jesus’ sheep. No one belongs to us. We all belong to God. It’s a beautiful call and response between Jesus and Peter that re-calls Peter to his discipleship.[4]

Peter, do you love me? Yes, Lord, you know I do. Feed my lambs.

Peter, do you love me? Yes, Lord, you know I love you. Tend my sheep.

Peter, do you love me? Yes, Lord, you know everything. Feed my sheep.

After this exchange, Jesus says to Peter, “Follow me.” In modern parlance, Jesus’ “Follow me” is a little like football quarterbacks encouraging their team with a “Let’s gooooo!”

This Easter season, there’s a similar re-calling to us, a re-calling to discipleship. Jesus’ first call to the disciples to follow him when his ministry began, is different than being called anew by the resurrected Jesus.[5] In Jesus’ farewell before he died, he told his disciples that there were things he couldn’t tell them because they’d be unable to bear them without the Holy Spirit.[6] Since his resurrection, they’ve received the gift of the Holy Spirit.[7] Because of the Holy Spirit, discipleship looks, feels, and sounds different on this side of the empty tomb.[8] What did renewed discipleship look like for them?

Let’s turn to the Acts reading for a hint in the story of Saul transformed into Paul, baptized by Ananias. A couple chapters ago, Saul was holding coats for the people stoning Stehen, a Jesus follower. In today’s story, Saul was en route to bind up other followers of the Way, Jesus’ Way, and bring them bound to Jerusalem. As he went along, he was transformed from righteous independence to stunned dependence, led by the hand into Damascus where our question about what renewed discipleship looks like plagued Ananias. He’s heard about Saul’s evil against the saints. Saul is a dangerous man. The Lord’s vision to Ananias called him to go to Saul to lay hands on him and baptize him. After his argument with the Lord, Anaias went. Remarkably, the first words out of his mouth were one of faithful connection. He greeted his feared enemy with, “Brother Saul…”[9]

Ananias’ faithful courage is an inspiration. He didn’t have a backup plan if things didn’t work out with Saul’s transformation. How many of us would be able to listen, react, and then respond to such an ask? Many of us might argue that someone else go see Saul. Others of us would question the vision itself. Was that really the Lord?? That’s an age-old question. How do we know WHAT God’s vision for anything is? Being human is a confusing mess.

Being an American human figuring out faith alongside patriotism that IS NOT Christian Nationalism is a hot mess these days. We throw phrases around like “separation of church and state” that are not in the Constitution; and misinterpret things that ARE in the Constitution like the First Amendment’s prohibition of laws establishing a religion in this country and the assurance of the law that everyone may practice their religion in freedom. We think we know what those things mean but it seems clear that we do not. Christ and country are conflated in astounding ways as if the Bible includes the words, “United States of America.”  Spoiler alert. It doesn’t. BUT there are many examples of Jesus’ calling disciples for large and small actions to fulfill God’s vision for the world and for the people God loves.

God’s vision is what the reading from Revelation is about. Revelation is a feisty and cryptic book. It was written in symbols and language to give hope to an early Christian community oppressed by the Roman Empire. They would understand the coded language. We don’t. The Left Behind series and Hollywood haven’t done us any favors when it comes to understanding Revelation’s cryptic, hope-filled message. But there is a glimpse of clarity about God’s hopeful vision for humanity in the image of the Lamb.

In Revelation, the slaughtered Lamb is Jesus.[10] The Lamb is a person destroyed by the Empire to send a clear message about the Empire’s power. But somehow, the Lamb symbolizes a profound reversal of that power and God’s preferred future flows through the Lamb.[11] See what I mean? Revelation is rough going. But here’s a cool fun fact, the Canticle of Praise that we sing in worship this Easter season is from these verses in Revelation—”Worthy is Christ, the Lamb who was slain, whose blood set us free to be people of God…blessing and honor and glory and might be to God and the Lamb forever amen…” In this strange hymn from Revelation, we sing the hope of power’s reversal in Jesus. Jesus’ disciples have found courage in this reversal for centuries. Courage to speak truth to power while ministering to our burdened earth and the animals who live here with us. Courage to walk alongside: children who need our advocacy, people who do not have enough to live on, and illegally deported strangers. The list is growing. Be of good courage, pick people to advocate with, and work with others to do so.

Sometimes, the hardest courage to muster is witnessing to our own faith in Jesus. Here’s a pro-tip. Maybe don’t lead with the slaughtered Lamb. Grace is a good place to start. Grace for yourself and others as we muddle through this messy human life together, called by Jesus to leave hateful self-righteousness behind and to embody his risen life, giving hope to a wounded and weary world.

Jesus is more than a backup plan. Jesus is the humble Lamb.

Jesus, the one who re-calls us to discipleship in Easter is the wounded, risen Lamb;

the one who reverses earthly power through self-sacrifice and love by the power of the Holy Spirit;

the one who took the death-dealing ways of the Empire and showed that anyone can muscle their way into power over other people and stay for a time, but that true power dawns in the Lamb who is worthy of our alleluias.

_________________________________________

[1] John 2:1-11

[2] John 6:1-15

[3] Karoline Lewis, Professor of Biblical Preaching, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Sermon Brainwave for the Bible readings for May 4, 2025. #1021: Third Sunday of Easter – May 4, 2025 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Lewis, ibid.

[6] John 16:12-13

[7] John 20:19-23

[8] Lewis, ibid.

[9] Matt Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Sermon Brainwave for the Bible readings for May 4, 2025. #1021: Third Sunday of Easter – May 4, 2025 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary.

[10] Skinner, ibid.

[11] Skinner, ibid.

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Rev 5:11-14  ¹¹ Then I looked, and I heard the voice of many angels surrounding the throne and the living creatures and the elders; they numbered myriads of myriads and thousands of thousands, ¹² singing with full voice,
“Worthy is the Lamb that was slaughtered
to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might
and honor and glory and blessing!”
¹³ Then I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea, and all that is in them, singing,
“To the one seated on the throne and to the Lamb
be blessing and honor and glory and might
forever and ever!”
¹⁴ And the four living creatures said, “Amen!” And the elders fell down and worshiped.

Psalm 30

¹ I will exalt you, O Lord, because you have lift- ^| ed me up
and have not let my enemies triumph ^| over me.
² O Lord my God, I cried ^| out to you,
and you restored ^| me to health.
³ You brought me up, O Lord, ^| from the dead;
you restored my life as I was going down ^| to the grave.
⁴ Sing praise to the Lord, ^| all you faithful;
give thanks in ho- ^| ly remembrance. R
⁵ God’s wrath is short; God’s favor ^| lasts a lifetime.
Weeping spends the night, but joy comes ^| in the morning.
⁶ While I felt se- ^| cure, I said,
“I shall never ^| be disturbed.
⁷ You, Lord, with your favor, made me as strong ^| as the mountains.”
Then you hid your face, and I was ^| filled with fear.
⁸ I cried to ^| you, O Lord;
I pleaded with ^| my Lord, saying,
⁹ “What profit is there in my blood, if I go down ^| to the pit?
Will the dust praise you or de- ^| clare your faithfulness?
¹⁰ Hear, O Lord, and have mer- ^| cy upon me;
O Lord, ^| be my helper.” R
¹¹ You have turned my wailing ^| into dancing;
you have put off my sackcloth and clothed ^| me with joy.
¹² Therefore my heart sings to you ^| without ceasing;
O Lord my God, I will give you ^| thanks forever. R ¹ I will exalt you, O Lord, because you have lift- ^| ed me up
and have not let my enemies triumph ^| over me.
² O Lord my God, I cried ^| out to you,
and you restored ^| me to health.
³ You brought me up, O Lord, ^| from the dead;
you restored my life as I was going down ^| to the grave.
⁴ Sing praise to the Lord, ^| all you faithful;
give thanks in ho- ^| ly remembrance. R
⁵ God’s wrath is short; God’s favor ^| lasts a lifetime.
Weeping spends the night, but joy comes ^| in the morning.
⁶ While I felt se- ^| cure, I said,
“I shall never ^| be disturbed.
⁷ You, Lord, with your favor, made me as strong ^| as the mountains.”
Then you hid your face, and I was ^| filled with fear.
⁸ I cried to ^| you, O Lord;
I pleaded with ^| my Lord, saying,
⁹ “What profit is there in my blood, if I go down ^| to the pit?
Will the dust praise you or de- ^| clare your faithfulness?
¹⁰ Hear, O Lord, and have mer- ^| cy upon me;
O Lord, ^| be my helper.” R
¹¹ You have turned my wailing ^| into dancing;
you have put off my sackcloth and clothed ^| me with joy.
¹² Therefore my heart sings to you ^| without ceasing;
O Lord my God, I will give you ^| thanks forever. R

 [sermon begins after three Bible readings]

Matthew 20:1-16 [Jesus said to the disciples:] ¹“The kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard. ²After agreeing with the laborers for the usual daily wage, he sent them into his vineyard. ³When he went out about nine o’clock, he saw others standing idle in the marketplace; ⁴and he said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is right.’ So they went. ⁵When he went out again about noon and about three o’clock, he did the same. ⁶And about five o’clock he went out and found others standing around; and he said to them, ‘Why are you standing here idle all day?’ ⁷They said to him, ‘Because no one has hired us.’ He said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard.’ ⁸When evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his manager, ‘Call the laborers and give them their pay, beginning with the last and then going to the first.’ ⁹When those hired about five o’clock came, each of them received the usual daily wage. ¹⁰Now when the first came, they thought they would receive more; but each of them also received the usual daily wage. ¹¹And when they received it, they grumbled against the landowner, ¹²saying, ‘These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.’ ¹³But he replied to one of them, ‘Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? ¹⁴Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. ¹⁵Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?’ ¹⁶So the last will be first, and the first will be last.”

Jonah 3:10-4:11 When God saw what [the people of Ninevah] did, how they turned from their evil ways, God changed his mind about the calamity that he had said he would bring upon them; and he did not do it.

Philippians 1:21-30 For to me, living is Christ and dying is gain. ²²If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labor for me; and I do not know which I prefer. ²³I am hard pressed between the two: my desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better; ²⁴but to remain in the flesh is more necessary for you. ²⁵Since I am convinced of this, I know that I will remain and continue with all of you for your progress and joy in faith, ²⁶so that I may share abundantly in your boasting in Christ Jesus when I come to you again.
²⁷Only, live your life in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ, so that, whether I come and see you or am absent and hear about you, I will know that you are standing firm in one spirit, striving side by side with one mind for the faith of the gospel, ²⁸and are in no way intimidated by your opponents. For them this is evidence of their destruction, but of your salvation. And this is God’s doing. ²⁹For he has graciously granted you the privilege not only of believing in Christ, but of suffering for him as well—³⁰since you are having the same struggle that you saw I had and now hear that I still have.

[sermon begins]

Sometimes all we have is a leap of faith. A leap of faith means that we don’t know what’s going to happen. For some people, leaping in faith means getting out of bed in the morning. For others, leaping in faith means changing careers. Heck, life is a leap of faith. Life choices and events beyond our control all take leaps of faith. In Paul’s letter to the church in Philippi, a.k.a. the Bible book of Philippians, he took a leap of faith in sending that letter. He encoded it with words that the Roman authorities would see as meaningless – gospel of Christ, faith, salvation, grace, joy and suffering.1 The church folks would know the hidden code, that God turns things upside down. Paul was writing from prison to people who had everything taken away from them by Rome. They knew that suffering didn’t have the last word. Challenging times make it difficult to feel joy much less acknowledge joy. But there’s Paul talking about joy in faith and their faith in the gospel. Trust is essential for experiencing joy in the middle of trauma, political or otherwise. Many people tell me that they don’t know how they would live life without their faith. I know that my faith and the faith of so many others kept me going over the last few months. 

The faith that claims us is of a God who “is gracious and full of compassion, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.” While the psalmist is praising God for those qualities, Jonah gives God the stink eye, accusing God of grace, mercy, patience, and steadfast love.2 How dare God be God with those horrific enemies?! How dare God extend beauty to people Jonah can’t stand, even if they did repent of their murderous ways? Jonah’s stink-eyed grievance is legit. As non-Jews, the Philippians may not have known the story of Jonah, but Paul as a Jewish Christian did know the story of Jonah. He planted churches with faith in Jesus who revealed God’s grace, mercy, patience, and steadfast love. Paul formed these churches as a leap of faith in circumstances that were less than favorable because he believed in the God of his ancestors from whom Jesus was embodied, took flesh, and launched a ministry of grace and God’s kingdom. Jesus wasn’t a professor in front of a classroom. He taught his followers as life presented itself.  

Parables were part of Jesus’ teachings. Parables are stories that are open to interpretation and slippery when it comes to direct answers. Just before our parable today in the Matthew reading, Peter had asked Jesus what the benefits of following him were. Jesus gave a convoluted answer but then launched into a parable to try to explain his answer. “For the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner…” Then Jesus goes on to say that the landowner hires several groups of people in town. The first group he hires early in the morning committing to paying them a daily wage. The next three groups he hired with the promise that he’d “pay what is right.” At the end of the day, he hires the last bunch without one word about payment. We know the drill. The landowner starts with that last bunch who worked an hour by paying them a full daily wage. The story is absurd. No landowner would have stayed in business if word got out that you could make a daily wage working for an hour.  

Let’s go with it for a minute though. Imagine the last hour workers’ joy being able to feed their families for a few days. Imagine their joy. But each group was paid a daily wage, and the early morning group was furious. They were angry. If we read closely, we hear their reason, they said to the landowner, “…you have made them equal to us.” “You have made them equal to us.” A scathing rebuke from the workers to the landowner. It gets better. The landowner questions the workers, “Are you envious because I am generous?” In the Greek, this question more precisely asks, “Is your eye evil because I am good?” In other words, the landowner asks, “Are you giving me the stink eye because I’m good?”  

Does anyone relate to the stink eye wielding workers? Maybe a teacher gave everyone an “A” after you studied, actually got an “A,” and they didn’t. Maybe your gifts and skills aren’t recognized or reimbursed in a way that leaves you feeling overlooked and undervalued. Are we inclined to give the stink eye to people who haven’t worked as hard as we have or, even better, to give the stink eye to God for God’s generosity or to people who keep harping on God’s generosity?  

We could read this parable and argue for workers’ rights, tying the United Auto Workers’ and The Writers Guild’s strikes against corporate greed to the lesson today. We could also argue that this parable isn’t practical guidance but theological argument for God’s grace available in Jesus Christ to all people at all times. I’m more interested in arguing that we are like the workers – skeptical, cynical, and worried about being declared equal to other people who aren’t. This may be part of the reason we get concerned about helping people. We can think that if we help them too much it won’t be good for them. That rabbit hole contains sticking points that make it hard to leap in faith.  

I’ve gone back and forth about talking about Augustana Homes and Bless the Build as a leap of faith, but I think it’s worth the risk. Construction begins in October and this afternoon at 1 p.m. in the Sanctuary we’ll have a brief program that ends in Augustana’s Community Park, right next to the site of future affordable homes built by Habitat for Humanity Metro Denver on land leased to them by you, the Augustana congregation. The land lease keeps the cost of the homes affordable. The project began five years ago. 

In March of 2018, four Augustana folks went to a breakfast hosted by Interfaith Alliance and heard about the Congregation Land Campaign. Interns at Interfaith Alliance had been assigned the task of calculating how many unused acres of land in Metro Denver were available on faith community properties. 5,000. 5,000 acres across Metro Denver that could be used to build affordable housing as one piece of Denver’s housing puzzle. After the breakfast, these four folks met with the pastors to share what they learned. Each tiny, incremental step, the congregation’s team made headway, led by retired Pastor Ann Hultquist. A team was formed in the congregation to imagine the use of this land for housing. In 2019, over a year after the Interfaith Alliance breakfast, the congregation voted for the project. With other options to sell the land, I call that a leap of faith. By December 2019, we selected Habitat for Humanity as our construction partner out of three possibilities. And we all know what happened in March of 2020 when the world shut down.  

While the pandemic slowed the progress, the team persisted, engaging the congregation and neighbors in ongoing discussions for updates and feedback. There were behind-the-scenes tasks that Habitat and the congregation picked away at with the city and the neighborhood association – rezoning, water issues, build size, you know, the fun stuff. Why all these details? Because ultimately families will have affordable homes because of the inspiration to dream and the determination to see the dream through the details. Families will have homes. That’s the dream. Today is as much about celebrating breaking ground on Augustana Homes as it is about inspiring other people to dream about other empty land with potential for homes. If we can make this audacious leap of faith as a large-ish, reserved, and responsible congregation then maybe other faith communities can dream it too. Building affordable homes is one piece of the housing puzzle in Denver. For the eight families who will own Augustana Homes, it’s THE piece that will make their dream a reality. 

It would have been easy, and perhaps even advisable, for the congregation to make a different decision. In light of today’s readings, we could argue that the leap of faith we’re taking is the kind of thing that we’re called to do. We can argue it till kingdom come. In the meantime, we’ll catch glimpses of the kingdom that is like a landowner whose generosity earns the occasional stink eye when generosity is on the line. Thanks be to God. And amen. 

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on Ash Wednesday – February 22, 2023, 11:00 a.m. worship

[sermon begins after two Bible readings from the books of Joel and 2 Corinthians; Psalm 51 is at the end of the sermon]

Joel 2:12-17  Blow the trumpet in Zion;
sound the alarm on my holy mountain!
Let all the inhabitants of the land tremble,
for the day of the Lord is coming, it is near—
²a day of darkness and gloom,
a day of clouds and thick darkness!
Like blackness spread upon the mountains
a great and powerful army comes;
their like has never been from of old,
nor will be again after them
in ages to come.
¹²Yet even now, says the Lord,
return to me with all your heart,
with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning;
¹³rend your hearts and not your clothing.
Return to the Lord, your God,
for he is gracious and merciful,
slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love,
and relents from punishing.
¹⁴Who knows whether he will not turn and relent,
and leave a blessing behind him,
a grain offering and a drink offering
for the Lord, your God?
¹⁵Blow the trumpet in Zion;
sanctify a fast;
call a solemn assembly;
¹⁶gather the people.
Sanctify the congregation;
assemble the aged;
gather the children,
even infants at the breast.
Let the bridegroom leave his room,
and the bride her canopy.
¹⁷Between the vestibule and the altar
let the priests, the ministers of the Lord, weep.
Let them say, “Spare your people, O Lord,
and do not make your heritage a mockery,
a byword among the nations.
Why should it be said among the peoples,
‘Where is their God?’ ”

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

[sermon begins]

How would you describe the way a favorite old hymn catches you off guard during a worship service? Or the way a new hymn immediately feels like an old favorite? For me, it runs the range of human emotion. Sometimes singing a hymn feels like joy so strong that it moves me to dance…or at least moves me to the less conspicuous swaying option. Sometimes hymn singing feels like inspiration that strengthens my resolve to love my neighbor and work for justice and peace. And sometimes hymn singing feels like deep grief, when the words get caught in my throat and like I won’t be able to breathe if I keep on singing or, at the very least, tears will dampen the sound. I could go on and on but the bottom line is that singing in this place with you all is food for the soul whether we’re exuberantly singing together on a tried-and-true hymn or bumbling along on a new one. There are very few places in which public singing happens. Concerts have their superfans who know all the songs by heart and include the rest of us slouches who may know the words to one or two of their popular songs. Baseball games have the 7^th Inning Stretch with the happy group singing of, “Take me out to the ball game!” But regular singing together happens less and less for people. Places of worship are the main places where songs are sung as a group.

In the reading from Joel, the people are assembled and gathered into a congregation – men and women, old and young, even the bride and groom. Everyone is called to return to God who is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love. Joel writes, “…rend your hearts, not your clothing…” We hear that the people assembled with hearts broken open before God. When the people gathered even in those days, there were songs to be sung. In the case of Joel’s story, the song was likely a psalm of lament and confession, a psalm that describes their open, penitent hearts and their trust in God’s grace, mercy, and steadfast love – perhaps Psalm 51, an Ash Wednesday classic. The Psalms are the Bible’s hymnal. There are songs to be found in other places in the Bible, to be sure, but the Psalms are a record of liturgical poetry accompanied by music.

The English term [psalm] title derives from the Greek psalmos, meaning “song accompanied by a stringed instrument.” In Hebrew, the book is known as Tehillim or “songs of praise.”[1]

As the people sang in Joel’s story, perhaps their throats closed as their tears fell…and as their hearts opened. Singing yet struggling in the midst of their suffering to trust that God is gracious and merciful, abounding in steadfast love. Suffering and yet still they sang.

In 2 Corinthians, the apostle Paul lists the suffering that he and the other disciples had endured. It’s helpful that he begins the passage calling the readers to be reconciled to God because it could be argued that Paul reveled in his suffering just a bit much.[2] But the good part of listing his sufferings is that he’s drawing a complete picture of where God shows up in the darkest places of our humanity and how hardship can shape us for the good.[3] Not that suffering is lucky or somehow part of the bitter medicine we’re supposed to take. But because the apostle Paul might say, “It’s because of the ways that suffering conforms to the example of Christ crucified and new life coming out of that.”[4]

On Ash Wednesday, we’re acknowledging our fragility as humans, our mortality in these fragile bodies and we place our trust in God who meets us in our most fragile places – when our bodies betray us and when we betray ourselves and each other. Today is a day to be honest about the suffering we experience because it’s part of the human condition and also the suffering we inflict on ourselves and each other. Care needs to be taken that we don’t corrupt this theology into valorizing suffering and hardship. Rather, if you are going through “hardship, chronic pain, deep disappointment,” if the Beatitudes fit your story in this moment, God meets you there not because it’s a magic ticket to God but because it’s a place where God shows up.[5] God shows up and promises transformation and new life – the story of Lent through the glory of Easter.

Last Fall, I attended our Theological Conference for ministry leaders, pastors, and deacons. The topic was Trauma and Resilience. These beautiful banners in our Sanctuary today were lined up in the hotel ballroom where we met and worshipped together. The art was a visual prayer during that time as we talked about suffering and trauma and healing and research and mental health practitioners and where our faith was or wasn’t in those experiences. I wondered with someone afterwards if the artist might make them available to us during Lent.[6] From the psalmic poetry and the textile beauty, we chose our Lenten theme, “Rise and Sing Again.” It’s part of the words on the banner over by the baptismal font – a location of happy accident as the banners were laid out in the order the artist intended. The banners tell a story of feeling forsaken in suffering and rising to sing again. They start at this one by the pulpit and move backwards in order on this side of the Sanctuary and then forward on the organ side.

Rising and singing again is part of what our faith community does for each other over and over. We sing when the person next to us can’t. They sing when we can’t. We all sing when we can. Rising and singing again acknowledges this imperfect and messy world where suffering often has no explanation and is regularly the actual result of people hurting us through the sin of carelessness or maliciousness or, vice versa, us hurting other people through carelessness or maliciousness. In difficult times, people sometimes use the non-biblical, cultural expression, “Well, everything happens for a reason.” To which, in the right situations, I’ll respond, “Yes, and sometimes the reason is sin.”

Today is a day of penitence. A day to be honest about who we are as fragile, mortal creatures which includes the sin and suffering we endure and inflict on ourselves and others. A day to be honest about whether or not we’re ready to sing in the midst of it – as Paul says, “…sorrowful, yet always rejoicing.”

Today on Ash Wednesday, the ashes on our forehead remind us that mortality, suffering, and death do not have the last word. God does. And God meets our fragile, careless, and malicious humanity with grace, mercy, and steadfast love, transforming our lives with God’s promise of new life. For this and for all that God is doing, we can say thanks be to God and amen.

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[1] Rabbi Or Rose. “The Book of Psalms.” https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/the-book-of-psalms/

[2] Matt Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Sermon Brainwave Podcast for Ash Wednesday on February 22, 2023. www.workingpreacher.org/podcasts/889-ash-wednesday-february-22-2023

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Ibid.; Also, find Jesus’ teaching on the Beatitudes in Matthew 5…blessed are the poor in spirit, the grieving, etc.

[6] Ken Phillips, local Denver textile and liturgical artist. Read more about him here: www.regis.edu/news/2022/magazine/06/ken-phillips-weaves-a-tempest-in-tapestry

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Psalm 51

Have mercy on me, O God,
 according to your steadfast love;
 according to your abundant mercy
 blot out my transgressions.
 ²Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity,
 and cleanse me from my sin.
 ³For I know my transgressions,
 and my sin is ever before me.
 ⁴Against you, you alone, have I sinned,
 and done what is evil in your sight,
 so that you are justified in your sentence
 and blameless when you pass judgment.
 ⁵Indeed, I was born guilty,
 a sinner when my mother conceived me.
 ⁶You desire truth in the inward being;
 therefore teach me wisdom in my secret heart.
 ⁷Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean;
 wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.
 ⁸Let me hear joy and gladness;
 let the bones that you have crushed rejoice.
 ⁹Hide your face from my sins,
 and blot out all my iniquities.
 ¹⁰Create in me a clean heart, O God,
 and put a new and right spirit within me.
 ¹¹Do not cast me away from your presence,
 and do not take your holy spirit from me.
 ¹²Restore to me the joy of your salvation,
 and sustain in me a willing spirit.
 ¹³Then I will teach transgressors your ways,
 and sinners will return to you.
 ¹⁴Deliver me from bloodshed, O God,
 O God of my salvation,
 and my tongue will sing aloud of your deliverance.
 ¹⁵O LORD, open my lips,
 and my mouth will declare your praise.
 ¹⁶For you have no delight in sacrifice;
 if I were to give a burnt offering, you would not be pleased.
 ¹⁷The sacrifice acceptable to God is a broken spirit;
 a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.

[sermon begins after two Bible readings]

John 14:23-29 Jesus answered [Judas (not Iscariot),] “Those who love me will keep my word, and my Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them. ²⁴Whoever does not love me does not keep my words; and the word that you hear is not mine, but is from the Father who sent me.
²⁵“I have said these things to you while I am still with you. ²⁶But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything, and remind you of all that I have said to you. ²⁷Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid. ²⁸You heard me say to you, ‘I am going away, and I am coming to you.’ If you loved me, you would rejoice that I am going to the Father, because the Father is greater than I. ²⁹And now I have told you this before it occurs, so that when it does occur, you may believe.”

Acts 16.9-15 During the night Paul had a vision: there stood a man of Macedonia pleading with him and saying, “Come over to Macedonia and help us.” ¹⁰When he had seen the vision, we immediately tried to cross over to Macedonia, being convinced that God had called us to proclaim the good news to them. ¹¹We set sail from Troas and took a straight course to Samothrace, the following day to Neapolis, ¹²and from there to Philippi, which is a leading city of the district of Macedonia and a Roman colony. We remained in this city for some days. ¹³On the sabbath day we went outside the gate by the river, where we supposed there was a place of prayer; and we sat down and spoke to the women who had gathered there. ¹⁴A certain woman named Lydia, a worshiper of God, was listening to us; she was from the city of Thyatira and a dealer in purple cloth. The Lord opened her heart to listen eagerly to what was said by Paul. ¹⁵When she and her household were baptized, she urged us, saying, “If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come and stay at my home.” And she prevailed upon us.

[sermon begins]

I want to follow up on something in my sermon from last Sunday when I talked about faith not protecting us from bad things happening. We can look around the room and around the world and see that that’s true. Bad stuff happens to faithful people as much as it happens to everyone else. We don’t know why. We just know it’s the way the world works. A lot of time and energy is spent on trying to answer the “why” question though. I’m more interested in the “what now” question. Maybe I gave that away when I went on to mention how faith strengthens us and gives us courage. When I read the scripture readings for this Sunday, Jesus’ words jumped out at me:

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”  Jesus’ words have been true for me. Not in a stoic way – as if emotions don’t happen or don’t matter. Not in a disengaged way – as if I now have permission to check out of the world’s troubles. Jesus’ words are true for me in a deep-down way – where life is intensely meaningful because it’s life. The other day I had one of those moments during the lunar eclipse. We had chairs lined up in our driveway and our neighbors set up a second row behind us. Watching the earth’s shadow cast itself slowly over the moon until the moon was fully shadowed, gave the moon a 3D look with a spooky reddish-brown color. It struck me, not for the first time, how odd and beautiful our existence is, not to mention our planet and our universe which transcends into the divine.

Jesus speaks from a divine abiding place when he talks about peace. He mentions the Father who will make a home with them as well as the Advocate, the Holy Spirit that will remind and teach – a combined transcendent power that coalesces in the person of Jesus. The mystery of the universe and the mystery of Jesus are similar mysteries to me. Sure, you can explain black holes and string theory to me while I explain theology and Christian ethics to you, but at the end of the day both the Blood Moon and the fully-human-fully-divine Jesus are ineffable. Our explanations simply can’t do justice to our experience of them.

For instance, there’s a thing that happens to me when someone repeatedly comes to mind. I call it a Holy Spirit nudge because when I call and check in with that person there’s often a really good reason that the call’s timing was important. It’s never 100% reliable. (PSA: Don’t try this at home – call me if you need to talk with me.) I can’t explain the feeling but I’m familiar enough with it now that ignoring it feels uncomfortable, like I’m missing an important appointment. We could argue until kingdom come about whether that feeling is experience playing into instinct or whether it’s the Holy Spirit but my way of explaining the mystery of it is to call it the Holy Spirit.

I wonder if this is a bit like what the Apostle Paul and his friends experienced when they set sail after Paul’s vision of a man in Macedonia who begged them to come and help. Paul’s vision is a heck of lot more dramatic than my nagging feeling to give someone a call. This story in the book of Acts charts quite a course – from Troas to Samothrace to Neapolis until landing in Philippi located in the northeast of what is modern day Greece. Thank God for the Sabbath which gave Paul, Silas, and Timothy a chance to catch their breath, recentering themselves in a place of prayer outside the gate by the river. The place where they met Lydia. Her story is just a few verses so it’s slightly irrational how much I love it. There are a few gems worth noting. Lydia was likely an independent businesswoman since she and her household weren’t named with a husband. Purple cloth was difficult to make, highly prized by royalty, and quite expensive. Lydia was faithful and generous – hosting her new Jesus-following friends after she and her household were baptized. Lydia’s story is one of several in the Bible that describes household baptisms which are part of how the church included infant baptism in its practice.

I wonder how Lydia would have described her experience with the new guys at the place of prayer. She may not have had the churchy words to use at first, but I wonder if she was able to find more words looking back at her time before and after her river baptism. Or if the mystery of her experience was difficult to fully explain. Whatever her explanation, Lydia and her household’s baptisms were foundational to the church in Philippi. The church to which Paul wrote his letter to the Philippians. As I was writing this sermon, I read the opening of Paul’s letter to the Philippians and found that reading it in light of Lydia’s conversion changed my hearing of it. Next Sunday’s Acts reading tells one more significant story about Paul, Silas, and Timothy’s time in Philippi before departing to Thessalonica.

Man, I love the Bible. I love that we have these early stories at first only shared verbally and then finally written down to be shared across faith communities across time. Sometimes we get lost in the nitty gritty of the accuracy of the stories or the legitimacy of the claims. For me, teasing each story apart, putting it back together, and finding gems that apply to my life is the teaching and reminding work of the Holy Spirit that Jesus talks about in our reading today. We never fully arrive to a conclusion about a Bible story. Or maybe it’s more accurate to say that a Bible story is never fully done with us. They are gifts that keep on giving across our lives. It took some courage for me to even begin my way back into the Bible as adult. I’d been out of its loop for about ten years and only very tentatively began to turn its pages. Jesus’ encouragement to have untroubled hearts, and to be fearless, are part of what has helped me enjoy the layers of meaning in any given verse or set of verses as well as the subtle perspective shifts and not so subtle disagreements between writers of the different books of the Bible.

I know that I say this in sermons with some regularity but it’s important to understand that God’s salvation in Jesus by the power of the Holy Spirit through faith is not based on our right thinking or on orthodoxy or doctrine. The words that we give our experiences by faith are important for sure. Paul and Lydia’s story is a case in point. But God’s power is greater than anything I might say or anything you might do. It’s one of the reasons I’m grateful that communion comes after the sermon. No matter what mess I may make of things from the pulpit, God gets the last word. That’s a life lesson too. No matter what mess I may make of my life, God gets the last word. Today, God’s last word comes from Jesus in a blessing of peace.

I don’t know about you, but I need Jesus’ peace this week. The divine peace that sustains existentially through the day-to-day joys, sorrows, and everything in between. Paradoxically, this is the very peace that’s needed to stay deeply engaged with the world and all its problems. As I’ve been connecting with people on a recent continuing ed trip to Montgomery (Alabama), then connecting with people in Loveland at Synod Assembly, here at church, at the gym, in my family, with my friends, I don’t think I’m the only one who needs Jesus’ peace. There’s an emotional defcon level across our culture that seems unsustainable. Those reactive emotions tend to dampen joy that’s ours because life is meaningful simply because it’s life. Today, in this very moment, and in the next month, and for life eternal, Jesus gives you peace by the power of the Holy Spirit through the mystery of an ineffable God. May God’s peace untrouble your hearts and give you strength and courage on this Sabbath day. Thanks be to God and amen.