Tag Archives: rejoice

Grace in the Darkness [OR Candle Lighting for Mental Illness]

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on October 11, 2026

[sermon begins after two Bible stories; the Philippians reading is at the end of the sermon]

Psalm 23

1 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
2 He makes me lie down in green pastures;
he leads me beside still waters;
3 he restores my soul.
He leads me in right paths
for his name’s sake.

4 Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
I fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.

5 You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord
my whole life long.

Matthew 22:1-14 Once more Jesus spoke to them in parables, saying: 2 “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son. 3 He sent his slaves to call those who had been invited to the wedding banquet, but they would not come. 4 Again he sent other slaves, saying, ‘Tell those who have been invited: Look, I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves have been slaughtered, and everything is ready; come to the wedding banquet.’ 5 But they made light of it and went away, one to his farm, another to his business, 6 while the rest seized his slaves, mistreated them, and killed them. 7 The king was enraged. He sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city. 8 Then he said to his slaves, ‘The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy. 9 Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.’ 10 Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad, so the wedding hall was filled with guests.
11 “But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe, 12 and he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?’ And he was speechless. 13 Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ 14 For many are called, but few are chosen.”

[sermon begins]

Prayer is pretty normal for a pastor, but I’ve been praying with people more than ever in the past several months. At the end of meetings. At the end of phone calls. Or when people stop by my office for a variety of reasons. I ask, “May I pray for us?” I give them the chance to pray, too. Sometimes they do but usually they say it’s okay if I just pray. All of this to say that I increasingly feel my own need for prayer, and I think others may be feeling it, too. It’s a weird world these days. It’s also a joyous world. The weird can easily eclipse the joyous, especially when we’re inundated with difficult news. But there IS grace is the darkness for which we can rejoice.

Jesus’ parable of the Wedding Banquet is definitely the weird eclipsing the joyous. And, hang with me here, it’s also a word of grace worthy of our praise. Jesus’ parable can be summarized this way…

The kingdom of heaven is like the guy who saw the king’s petty and rageful true self and wouldn’t put on the king’s robe, which led to the king throwing that guy into the outer darkness. [Read that twice for good measure.]

This summary of Jesus’ parable makes perfect sense. Why on earth would you want to party with a king who lacks self-control and rages against his people when his ego is bruised? He invited party guests who didn’t want to come, so much so that they killed the king’s messengers. The king’s rage turned on them and he torched their cities. This is not a king of grace, mercy, or kindness. This king lets you know how much you’ve disappointed him by killing you and burning your house down. I wouldn’t want to wear that king’s robe either. At least, I’d like to think I would have the courage not to put on the robe.

Growing up in a fundamentalist Christian church, I often heard Jesus’ parable of the wedding banquet interpreted as if the rageful king was God and the last people invited who wore the king’s robes were the baptized and the poor robe-less guy was thrown into the outer darkness to suffer for all of eternity for not putting on the dang robe. We need to be really careful with Jesus’ parables, especially these last three from the past three Sundays. Jesus told these three parables after he entered Jerusalem nearing his execution on a cross.

Time was of the essence, and he was being challenged by religious leaders who wanted him dead. Parables don’t lend themselves to easy interpretations and, as listeners, we often want to align ourselves with the characters that we think are the winners. Who doesn’t want to win when it comes to God choosing you or not choosing you – especially if outer darkness has anything to do it.

Let’s break down the story unfolding around this parable. Jesus entered Jerusalem where he made angry religious leaders even more angry. The religious leaders arrested Jesus, took him outside the city limits to be crucified, stretched out on a cross until he was dead. It’s more than possible that the guy who gets thrown into the outer darkness was a story that Jesus was telling about himself. His message of absurd hope, extravagant grace, and expansive love was just too much for the powers that be. He would not wear the robe of power as it had been worn.

The parable of the wedding feast echoes the crucifixion, both ending with one person sent to the outer darkness. The king, the one in power, threw a fit when his party went awry. The king does NOT align with the God who Jesus reveals. God IS revealed at the end of the gospel of Matthew with a crucified king. “Over his head they put the charge against him, which read, ‘This is Jesus, the King of the Jews.”[1] There was no Holy War outside the city walls to save Jesus from death. Instead, “darkness came over the whole land.”[2] Where was the outer darkness? Everywhere.

As Christians, there are ways we say that God is revealed to us. First and foremost, “through Jesus Christ, and him crucified.”[3] We’ll also argue that God is visible through creation – the world and the wider universe is a signature of the creator. But that first one, through Christ crucified, is important because we argue that God absorbs human violence, putting an end to violence as a solution to what ails humanity and offering grace and compassion as a counterpoint to it. Compassion means “to suffer together.”[4] We are often moved by compassion, wanting to do something to alleviate the suffering. We fail not because of lack of desire but because the problems are enormous, and the darkness is deep.

The news of the world is too much for most of us and especially for those of us who struggle with mental illness. News can serve as a tipping point into deep darkness especially when our compassionate urge to help is thwarted by large-scale events. We’re not wired to manage the sensory overload from next door and around the world constantly pumped through our phones, computers, and TVs. Reminding each other to unplug from time-to-time. To recharge with quieter experiences and messages of grace is critically important.

Today is one such message of grace. During the song after the sermon, we’ll light candles as we shine light into the darkness of mental illness. We’ll pray for those of us who struggle with mental illness and those people we love who struggle with mental illness. While faith can be a comfort, faith doesn’t prevent suffering. Our E4 Mental Health Ministry helps us learn to be a church that meets the suffering of mental illness with compassion and grace.

After our son was born, we joined a Lutheran church where Quinn was baptized. Our daughter joined him in the world two years later. Postpartum depression hit hard. I hadn’t yet addressed my experience of having and leaving a mentally ill father in my own childhood and there I was with two little ones of my own while the hormone storm wreaked havoc on my mental health. Part of what saved me was the local church.

I’d been away from church for a decade, leaving behind the scary, unforgiving Jesus of my upbringing. Hearing about grace for the first time blew my mind. The shock of it is likely hard to imagine for those of you who marinated in grace your whole life long.

Grace as the unconditional love of God through Jesus saved me in those early mothering years. Simultaneous to my postpartum mental struggle were the repeated reminders in worship about how unconditionally loved I was even in my darkest and most unlovable moments. Ultimately, being saved by grace gave me the courage to face the demons of early childhood trauma and extend grace to myself, sometimes the hardest thing to do. Being saved by grace also helped me extend grace to my long-deceased first dad who never recovered from his mental illness, dying at the age of 50.

My story of grace fuels my call as a pastor caring for folks already in the church AND caring for those who aren’t yet hearing it and need this good news through the welcoming grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. Grace is for you here today and for newcomers yet to come. May they too be invited, welcomed, and nurtured by the Living Grace that sustains us.

Jesus knows the suffering in the outer darkness which means that Jesus has compassion for our own deep darkness and gives us a future with hope. Lutheran Christianity describes this as the Theology of the Cross. The Theology of the Cross means that there is nowhere that God is more available, more present, more loving than in our suffering, in our experience of darkness. Our ancient Jewish cousins in the faith knew this too in Psalm 23. We sang together, “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for you are with me.”

The valley of the shadow of death is more directly translated as deep darkness. God has always been in the darkness with God’s people. Jesus Christ expanded God’s promise of presence, of grace and compassion, to include the world that God loves. Christ’s compassion and grace know no bounds which means that “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts AND your minds in Christ Jesus.” Thanks be to God, and amen.

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[1] Matthew 27:37

[2] Matthew 27:45

[3] 1 Corinthians 2:2

[4] Greater Good Magazine: Science Based Insights for a Meaningful Life. Compassion Definition | What Is Compassion (berkeley.edu)

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Philippians 4:1-9 My brothers and sisters, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, stand firm in the Lord in this way, my beloved.

2 I urge Euodia and I urge Syntyche to be of the same mind in the Lord. 3 Yes, and I ask you also, my loyal companion, help these women, for they have struggled beside me in the work of the gospel, together with Clement and the rest of my coworkers, whose names are in the book of life.
4 Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. 5 Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. 6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. 7 And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

8 Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. 9 As for the things that you have learned and received and heard and noticed in me, do them, and the God of peace will be with you.

Matthew 5:1-12, Revelation 7:9-17, and 1 John 3:1-3 – For That Is What You Are

Matthew 5:1-12, Revelation 7:9-17, and 1 John 3:1-3 – For That Is What You Are

Caitlin Trussell on All Saints Sunday – November 2, 2014 at Augustana Lutheran Church in Denver

[sermon starts after these three Bible readings/paragraphs]

Matthew 5:1-13  When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. 2 Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying: 3 “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 4 “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. 5 “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. 6 “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. 7 “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy. 8 “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. 9 “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. 10 “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 11 “Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. 12 Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

Revelation 7:9-17   After this I looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, robed in white, with palm branches in their hands. 10 They cried out in a loud voice, saying, “Salvation belongs to our God who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb!” 11 And all the angels stood around the throne and around the elders and the four living creatures, and they fell on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, 12 singing, “Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen.” 13 Then one of the elders addressed me, saying, “Who are these, robed in white, and where have they come from?” 14 I said to him, “Sir, you are the one that knows.” Then he said to me, “These are they who have come out of the great ordeal; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. 15 For this reason they are before the throne of God, and worship him day and night within his temple, and the one who is seated on the throne will shelter them. 16 They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; 17 for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

1 John 3:1-3   See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are. The reason the world does not know us is that it did not know him. 2 Beloved, we are God’s children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is. 3 And all who have this hope in him purify themselves, just as he is pure.

 

[sermon begins]

Ahhhh, the Book of Revelation from which our first reading comes.  Such comfort, consolation, and encouragement to be found.  Seriously, though, it’s a shame we shy away from the Book of Revelation.  Granted, a lot of it is uninterpretable – although rapture theologians won’t let that stop themselves from trying to leave us behind.[1]  But the book itself is written to comfort people who have been through a “great ordeal.”  An ordeal that leaves them in need of a comfort only God can give.

And, oh, what a people.  The writer tells us that, “there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages…”   This text gives us no way to imagine a limitation because it is all inclusive – “be it geographic, ethnic, numeric, linguistic, economic, and on and on the list goes.” [2]

The last verses of the Revelation text reads, “They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”   It is easy and tempting to try to minimize this promise of comfort.  I was leading a Bible Study at the women’s prison a few years ago.  There I stood, waxing on about different takes on heaven, when a woman from the back row raised her hand.  She told me it was all well and good that I had time to play with those ideas but she believed in a place and time when there would be no more hunger, no more thirst, and no more tears.  She counted on it.  She ended up being the preacher God put in our midst that day.   And she is definitely a saint.

The woman from the prison doesn’t fit the description of “saint” as it’s more commonly used to mean a “best-ever-super-great person.”   But she does fit into the saints who are part of “a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages…”  She is a saint who defiantly bears hope in the face of all things to the contrary.

Speaking of contrary things, Lutheran Confessions was a class I had to take in seminary to become a pastor.  The class isn’t quite as racy as the title makes it out to be.  For that you would have to turn to The Confessions of St. Augustine.[3]  But there were some gems.  One of them was the professor.  He liked a good argument and found plenty of them.  His passion for arguing was matched by his passion for walking into any situation regardless of the discomfort involved – his or anyone else’s.  At one point he whipped off his pastor’s collar, waved it around in the air, and told us that with this collar we were able to walk into any situation, bearing hope, where many would fear to go.  Well, I’d argue with him on that – which of course he’d love.

I’d argue that it is by our baptism into Christ that we are able to walk into any situation, EVEN IF we are afraid to go.  It’s not the collar.  It’s the cross that bears all things, even death. The author of the reading from First John writes, “See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are.”

As children of God we are saints by baptism, not by our own action.  At the same time we are sinners, bearing the hope that has been put in us through the Jesus’ death on a cross.  This sainthood is Christ’s to give and it is given freely.  Through his gift, we defiantly bear hope and bring peace in the face of all things to the contrary.

What are these contrary things, these things that would defy hope?  Let’s try those verses in Matthew to answer that question.  Jesus tells the disciples that the kingdom is revealed into through a poor spirit, grief, hunger, thirst, persecution, and false accusations.  How do we bear hope?  We bear hope by being with people.  I hear these stories from you time and again.

You’ve sat in the hallway at a nursing home waiting to visit someone and take the time to hear another resident’s story because they need to tell it to somebody.

You’re the one who’s child died and you let someone sit with you while you felt everything and nothing all at once.

You’ve been with a friend who spouse has left them.

You’re the one whose “no” meant “yes” to someone who hurt you and then you needed to trust somebody else to help you heal.

You’ve been with the undocumented family who has no home.

You’re the victim of war who was caught in the crossfire and taken to safety in a new place with new people.

You’ve been with each other in places that seem the most forsaken by God because, if the cross means anything, it means God shows up in the worst possible places and situations.

Grief, poor spirits, all the contrary things, are not mentioned by Jesus as things to achieve and wear as a badge of honor.  These are the hard things that just happen in life.  Hard things that we get to bear with each other and for each other.  I get to show up for you, you get to show up for me, we get to show up bearing hope for each other in situations that seem utterly hopeless.  This is true when we don’t have words that fix it.  Perhaps it’s true especially when we don’t have words that fix it.  What’s most important is showing up for people regardless.  Showing up, bearing hope, does not imply that we’re not afraid.  It doesn’t mean that we’re not going to pay some kind of emotional or physical price for showing up.  Showing up, bearing the suffering and bearing a defiant hope, is a gift we give each other in the face of really hard times; because it is a gift first given to us.

See what love the Father has given you, children of God, for that is what you are…

Jesus shows up for the multitude, in the multitude, for you, and in you.

Children of God, for that is what you are, be at peace – the kingdom of heaven is yours.



[1] Rapture theology is a fairly recent historical development dating to the early 1800s.

[2] Eric Mathis, Professor of Music and Worship, Samford University.  Commentary on Revelation 7:9-17 for November 2, 2014 at WorkingPreacher.org.  https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2182

[3] Saint Augustine.  The Confessions of Saint Augustine.  (Project Gutenberg, eBook, June 2002) http://www.gutenberg.org/files/3296/3296-h/3296-h.htm