Tag Archives: Rev Dr Martin Luther King Jr.

Jesus is at the Party [OR Joy and Suffering Coexist in Fires, Ceasefires & MLK Day] John 2:1-11

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on January 19, 2025

[sermon begins after the Bible story]

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

[sermon begins]

The Wedding at Cana is one of my favorite Bible stories that also happens to be in my favorite book in the Bible – the gospel according to John. Most people, even if they’re not Christians, have a vague sense that water was turned into wine. They might even know that Jesus miraculously turned that water into wine. It’s less likely that people know that water was turned to wine at a wedding party full of drunk guests. That doesn’t sound like the Bible as people imagine it to be. But it does sound like the Bible because here it is, right here. Jesus was at a wedding with his mom and his friends. Wedding parties that ran out of wine were shameful. When the wine ran out, Jesus’ mother pulled the mom card. She didn’t take no for an answer and Jesus made the best wine ever.

Jesus’ obedience to his mother may be more difficult to believe than the supernatural sign. Or his obedience more confusing than the connection between the Hebrew scripture and God’s covenant with God’s people that’s compared to marriage vows. Or his obedience more unbelievable than a wine steward running out of bad wine to serve drunk wedding guests. (Do those drunk people really need more wine?) Or maybe even harder to believe than Jesus’ obedience is that he was at a party where joy, laughter, and hope were in abundance along with the fine wine he produced. That certainly wasn’t the Jesus of the Christian church in which I was raised and taught.

The church building that I grew up in burned down last week in the Eaton fire in Altadena, California. Up until a week and a half ago, I told people that I grew up in Pasadena because no one knew where Altadena was. Now Altadena has the headline. Not because it was a uniquely diverse place to grow up and not because of its historic architecture. But because a lot of it sits in ashes after the Eaton fire. My brother evacuated from the Palisades fire. My stepsiblings were evacuated from Altadena. Their homes still stand while neighbors next door on the same street lost theirs. Messages, photos, and news videos are still exchanged and forwarded to each other. One of the pictures is the burned-out hull of that church, cinderblock walls standing guard around the spaces where I learned to sing hymns acapella, where the older women of the congregation would reach out and hug me as I walked by, and where I taught Bible lessons on felt boards to the littlest children. It was also where only men were allowed to preach, baptize, and preside at communion, where dancing and alcohol were prohibited, and where God’s judgment was bigger than God’s grace. When I left home, I decided that Jesus was no fun at a party, so I didn’t take him with me. No way.

But then we come to find out, yes way! Jesus was at a wedding where joy and celebration abound. His mother and friends were there, too. It’s an epic party where the wine is flowing until it runs out. The celebration seems fitting.  Jesus’ ministry is revealed by the events at this wedding. During a party like this one, I can imagine someone saying, “I feel like I shouldn’t be having fun when there is so much suffering in the world.” I can imagine it because people say it to me fairly regularly at parties, no less. It’s harder to allow joy when pain and grief assail us as faraway fires or military bombs decimate bodies and entire neighborhoods of friends, family, and strangers alike. Even as the ceasefire begins today in Gaza between Israel and Hamas, the relief does not erase the trauma of bombs, death, and grief for Palestinians and Jews. Joy somehow feels wrong, like a betrayal of our own or other people’s pain.

It is in this tension between joy and suffering that the Wedding at Cana really shines. Jesus is at a wedding celebration. He embodies grace smack in the middle of it. His presence and activity at the wedding do NOT obscure the very real problem of Roman oppression or the pain that is experienced in everyday life. In the wedding story, Jesus is an example of celebrating life in spite of Rome and in spite of day-to-day suffering. He is also more than an example.

Turning water into wine and other things happening at the Wedding at Cana points us somewhere even as it echoes back from somewhere. When I preach this story at weddings and funerals, I often use the word “echoes” to describe what’s happening between the wedding celebration and Jesus’ death on the cross. Some of the words in the wedding story echo back from the cross. The story itself begins “On the third day” which echoes Jesus’ resurrection.[1]  Jesus refers to his “hour not yet come.” In the Gospel of John, Jesus’ hour refers to the time that he will hang on a cross.[2]  Even the tasty wedding wine itself echoes back from the sour wine given to quench Jesus’ thirst on the cross.[3]  Jesus’ mother is not named in the Gospel of John.  She is called “the mother of Jesus.”  She shows up in the gospel only twice – once at the Wedding at Cana and then again at the cross.[4]  Jesus’ mother is another echo. From his first sign of turning water into wine, the cross is already in play.  Suffering is on the horizon.  And curiously, Jesus is at a party.

The Wedding at Cana is how life works. There are moments of joy and there are moments of suffering. Neither joy nor suffering are completely absent while the other is present. Both are human. Both are faithful. I want to be clear here that I’m not talking about blind optimism in the face of suffering. As if everything is fine despite all evidence to the contrary. I’m talking about faithful joy in the gift of life while being honest about the truth of suffering and working to alleviate it as Jesus calls us to do.

Jesus is at a party where the wine steward knows how things usually work in the world. After Jesus turns the water into wine, the wine steward goes to the bridegroom and says, “Everyone serves the good wine after the guests have become drunk; but you have kept the good wine until now.” I read this as the place where sin shows up in the story. “Everyone” tries to hide what they’re doing and get away with substandard wine late in their wedding celebrations. The con is the norm. But not this time. Not this wedding. Not this Jesus. This Jesus is totally worth taking to the party. Like the wine steward, we expect that people will protect their own interests at the expense of people who are unaware of the decisions made at their expense. Jesus’ turning water into wine toward the end of the wedding party reverses how things often work in the world. Jesus’ sign reverses the selfishness that we expect as normal.

Tomorrow this country celebrates Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s life and ministry.  He stands among the saints as an example of reversing accepted cultural norms of racism and poverty through a multi-faith and multi-race movement. He believed people could do better in the face of black people suffering at the hands of white people. He believed that oppression makes everyone less than human – victims and perpetrators alike. Rev. Dr. King believed this from a place of faith that is unequivocal about God loving the world which, by definition, means black people. And God’s love for black people inspired a movement of human dignity that continues through today. A multi-race, multi-faith movement that continues to reverse the cultural norms of racism and poverty. Rev. Dr. King believed and acted from a place of faith. And he lived in joy while being honest about suffering and our own hand in it. He said, “It is cheerful to God when you rejoice or laugh from the bottom of your heart.”[5] This from a man who experienced raw suffering as racist cultural norms were viciously protected. Joy would not be stolen by ignorant harm or malicious injury. Joy is celebrated as victory and as a right of the human spirit.

We sing songs and pray prayers of praise, joy, and thanksgiving in worship today as our bodies face the cross. Our worship mirrors the tension between joy and suffering at the Wedding at Cana. Our worship mirrors life. Life that Jesus gives as he shows up with us in both celebration and suffering. Jesus gives life by way of his own life. Life that showed up in the skin of a baby. Life that laughs and dances with joy at a wedding party. Life that knows suffering. Life that self-sacrifices for the sake of the world. Life that is given for you despite your own efforts to live on your own terms. That’s the promise God makes to you. Jesus is at the party. Let’s celebrate. Alleluia and amen.

__________________________________________________

[1] John 21:11-20

[2] John 16:32

[3] John 19:28-29

[4] John 19:25-27

[5] Martin Luther King Jr.  http://martinlutherkingjrquotes.org/martin-luther-king-jr-quotes-bootstraps.html

No Time Like the Present to Catch Up on Beauty Rest [OR God Loves People, Not Power: Check Out the Commandment to Rest] Luke 13:10-17

Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on August 21, 2022

[sermon begins after the Bible reading]

Luke 13:10-17 Now [Jesus] was teaching in one of the synagogues on the sabbath. 11And just then there appeared a woman with a spirit that had crippled her for eighteen years. She was bent over and was quite unable to stand up straight. 12When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said, “Woman, you are set free from your ailment.” 13When he laid his hands on her, immediately she stood up straight and began praising God. 14But the leader of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had cured on the sabbath, kept saying to the crowd, “There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured, and not on the sabbath day.” 15But the Lord answered him and said, “You hypocrites! Does not each of you on the sabbath untie his ox or his donkey from the manger, and lead it away to give it water? 16And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen long years, be set free from this bondage on the sabbath day?” 17When he said this, all his opponents were put to shame; and the entire crowd was rejoicing at all the wonderful things that he was doing.

[sermon begins]

“Remember the sabbath and keep it holy.”[1] Let’s geek out on that for a minute. It’s the third commandment of the big ten. In the Bible books of Exodus and Deuteronomy, this commandment is given with extra emphasis on who gets to rest. God commands rest for all the people – free people, enslaved people, and alien residents in the land. God commands rest for animals too – ox, donkey, and all livestock. In Exodus, the command is given to honor God’s rest on the seventh day after creating creation. In Deuteronomy, the command is given because the Hebrew people were once slaves without rest in Egypt, so rest is not to be taken for granted. In both books, the sabbath command is “to the Lord your God.” Resting to the Lord. Resting in the Lord. A holy day of rest. Breathe that in for minute. Holy rest for everyone and everything. Holiness for everyone and everything.

Holy rest. Holiness. Sabbath. A thing of beauty but a different kind of beauty rest. When we put it this way, it’s easier to have compassion for the synagogue leader when Jesus heals the woman from a crippling spirit on the Sabbath. Holy rest is hard to come by. We all know it. We know it bone deep – deep in the weariness that cripples our own spirits. But unless we have a daily battle that’s physical or cultural, it’s tough to appreciate the woman’s moment in the story. And Jesus had a way of expanding commandments at inopportune times, disrupting the moment while freeing the person in pain. Perhaps we could say he blew apart holiness only to reform it into something even holier. Jesus is always one step ahead, isn’t he? At least one step ahead, disrupting what we think should be happening with what God thinks should be happening. Jesus taking action is sometimes called good news or gospel. But in Lutheran Christian land, we often talk about law and gospel because law is often on the flipside of the gospel. We’re both freed by Jesus’ actions while at the same time convicted by Jesus’ actions.

Much like the synagogue leader whose reaction to Jesus’ action was angst and indignation, our reactions to law can be similar. Sabbath rest is a great example of law and gospel. Here we are this morning, Sabbath resting to God, listening to God’s word, reassured by God’s presence and promise in our lives. That’s gospel. At the same time, there are people who can’t be here, people who can’t take a Sabbath rest because they’re working. So, is Sabbath rest optional? Is Sabbath rest just for some of us? That can’t be right. Deuteronomy includes the alien in your lands, not just people who follow God’s command. Do we assume that everyone is able to rest at other times? Have we constructed a society in which rest isn’t for everyone? Is it possible that there is no such thing as true Sabbath rest until even the most vulnerable among us may rest?

The discomfort grows as the questions smolder. Much like when Jesus asks questions in our reading and his opponents were put to shame. Shame is an unhelpful emotion. Regret is a more useful cousin of shame because we learn from regret what it is we don’t want to do again. Regret edges us towards being convicted by the law which provokes our discomfort. It helps us by shaking us free to see our neighbor’s situation differently and therefore our own situation differently. Rev. Dr. King talked about something similar when he explained changing society through nonviolent resistance. He said:

This approach doesn’t make the white man feel comfortable. I think it does the other thing. It disturbs the conscience, and it disturbs the sense of contentment that he’s had.[2]

In our Bible story this morning, Jesus healed the woman from a crippling spirit. For her, freedom from 18 years of being enslaved to that spirit freed her for a Sabbath rest like none in her recent past. There was nothing more holy than her freedom in merciful healing. As she stood straight, she was living and breathing pure gospel. For that moment in time, she embodied the good news of Jesus. But her vertical body made another body uncomfortable. Maybe it’s like Rev. Dr. King said. Jesus’ approach didn’t make the synagogue leader feel comfortable. It did the other thing. It disturbed his conscience, and it disturbed the sense of contentment that he had. I would say that it disturbed his own ideas about the holy with a greater holiness.

When Jesus healed the woman, he changed at least two people’s perspectives. The woman saw the world around her at everyone else’s eye level for a change. Her perspective literally shifted from looking at the floor to looking people in the eye. The synagogue leader saw the woman’s healing as a disruption to Sabbath holiness rather than her healing as holiness. His perspective shifted when Jesus started asking questions and realized he wasn’t right. All of this to say that I wonder how greater holiness raises questions, disturbs our conscience, and shifts our perspective. I wonder where the law convicts us, and the gospel heals us simultaneously through Jesus’ actions.

In this summer’s Eucharistic Prayer during communion, we praise God’s merciful might in taking on flesh as Jesus our healer, while we remember his cross and praise his resurrection. In our weekly communion celebration, the praise for God’s mercy links first to the cross. On the cross is where God in Jesus chooses vulnerability and refuses to raise a hand in violence against the world God loves. Jesus absorbed human violence into death, burying it in a tomb, and revealing a love so powerful that even death could not end it.

A love that now lives in us as the body of Christ, the church. Sometimes the church is called the Body of Christ because Christ’s death and resurrection promise lives in us through our baptisms which empowers us by the Holy Spirit to love God, and to love our neighbors as ourselves. But I wonder how we as the church more quickly react like the synagogue leader when our perspective of holiness is challenged rather than like the body of Christ from whom Christ’s love pours out to renew an exhausted world, deeply in need of rest and the reminder that God loves people, not power.

Jesus made himself vulnerable to power when he healed the woman in pain despite it being the Sabbath rest day. Embodying God’s love and mercy was high risk for him. God’s mercy is so radical that the world as it was, and as it is now, could not fathom a holier way. A holier way through which there is no time like the present to receive God’s love and mercy. And there’s no time like the present to give away God’s love and mercy. God’s merciful might is revealed through Jesus, our healer, who pours out his love for us here in this place of Sabbath rest, promising rest through disruption, pardon through conviction, and life through death. For this and for all that God is doing, we can say thanks be to God. And amen.

____________________________________________

[1] Deuteronomy 5:12-15 and Exodus 20:8-10 – Remember the sabbath and keep it holy…

[2] See video here: https://twitter.com/BerniceKing/status/1558245621064146944

Division is Not a Call to Hate [OR When Jesus Said ‘Love Your Enemies,’ I’m Pretty Sure He Didn’t Mean Kill Them] Luke 12:48b-56 and Hebrews 11:29-12:2

Pastor Caitlin Trussell with Augustana Lutheran Church on August 18, 2019

[sermon begins after Bible readings from Luke and Hebrews]

Luke 12:48b-56  From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required; and from the one to whom much has been entrusted, even more will be demanded. 49 “I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled! 50 I have a baptism with which to be baptized, and what stress I am under until it is completed! 51 Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division! 52 From now on five in one household will be divided, three against two and two against three; 53 they will be divided: father against son and son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against mother, mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law and daughter-in-law against mother-in-law.” 54 He also said to the crowds, “When you see a cloud rising in the west, you immediately say, “It is going to rain'; and so it happens. 55 And when you see the south wind blowing, you say, “There will be scorching heat'; and it happens. 56 You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky, but why do you not know how to interpret the present time?

Hebrews 11:29-12:2 By faith the people passed through the Red Sea as if it were dry land, but when the Egyptians attempted to do so they were drowned. 30 By faith the walls of Jericho fell after they had been encircled for seven days. 31 By faith Rahab the prostitute did not perish with those who were disobedient, because she had received the spies in peace. 32 And what more should I say? For time would fail me to tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, of David and Samuel and the prophets— 33 who through faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, obtained promises, shut the mouths of lions, 34 quenched raging fire, escaped the edge of the sword, won strength out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight. 35 Women received their dead by resurrection. Others were tortured, refusing to accept release, in order to obtain a better resurrection. 36 Others suffered mocking and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. 37 They were stoned to death, they were sawn in two, they were killed by the sword; they went about in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, persecuted, tormented— 38 of whom the world was not worthy. They wandered in deserts and mountains, and in caves and holes in the ground. 39 Yet all these, though they were commended for their faith, did not receive what was promised, 40 since God had provided something better so that they would not, apart from us, be made perfect.

12:1 Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, 2 looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.

[sermon begins]

Way back in January, I received a text asking if I could preach at New Beginnings at the women’s prison on August 16th. Pastor Terry is the called pastor of that church and she was planning her sabbatical for this summer.  Chaplain Nicole was going to be covering the sabbatical and knew she was going to be gone this weekend so they were getting things dialed in early to be sure all was well eight months later.  I agreed to the date and put it on my calendar.  Fast-forward to a couple of weeks ago. I e-mailed Chaplain Nicole confirming my schedule with New Beginnings on August 16. Her reply included the news that she was not going to be away after all but she’d like for me to go ahead and preach as planned.  There’s another twist in this short tale.  Holly, an Augustana member, has been volunteering with New Beginnings and set up a four dates a year for other Augustana people to join her as worshiping visitors.  Providentially, August 16 was one of those dates.

When Holly shared the dates, my plan was to proceed with preaching the 16th regardless. Who could have known that I’d be preaching on a day that Holly picked arbitrarily?  When Nicole told me that she was going to be in town after all, and we knew there would be Augustana people in worship with the women, I asked if she’d be willing to preach and I could help in worship in other ways.  I figure you all get plenty of my preaching and it would be cool to hear someone else.  To make an already long story shorter, Nicole came up with the idea that we could preach together by having a dialogue of sorts.  The women of New Beginnings could hear me and the Augustana people could hear Nicole. A win-win, so to speak.  It ended up working out!  Nicole and I figured out some talking points ahead of time so that we’d actually wring some good news out of these freaky verses in Luke which, at the beginning of the week, felt like no small task.  What follows in my sermon is my best solo attempt at what was really a two person job.  So, shout out to Nicole Garcia and the women of New Beginnings – check!

Jesus talks to his disciples about fire and division among families before turning to the crowd, calling them hypocrites, and asking them why they can’t read the present time.  These are really tough verses in Luke.  It’s impossible to read them as a stand-alone story.  They at least deserve to be connected to the larger story in the Gospel of Luke.  Otherwise there’s a danger of turning Jesus into a fire and brimstone preacher when that doesn’t seem to be what Jesus is talking about here.  So let’s talk about that fire.

Jesus says, “I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled!”  In Luke 3:16, John the Baptist says something about fire.  John was out in the wilderness baptizing people and they were wondering if he was the Messiah.  John answered them by saying, “I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming…He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.”[1]  This is language about purification and refining by the power of the Holy Spirit. The same Holy Spirit that shows up in the book of Acts as tongues of fire resting on each Jesus follower of the day of Pentecost.[2]  Earlier in the Gospel of Luke, Chapter 9, Jesus’ disciples wanted to rain fire down on some inhospitable Samaritans and Jesus rebuked those misguided disciples before they all left for another village.[3]  No fire of retaliation, Jesus reminds his people.

There’s another thing about fire in scripture. It’s a sign of God’s presence. Back in the Hebrew Bible, in the book of Exodus, God calls Moses through a burning bush.  What happens to that bush?  Not a darn thing.  The bush isn’t consumed.[4]  The fire signifies to Moses that he’s in the presence of God. And again, as Moses and the Israelites wander in the wilderness after fleeing Egypt, “the Lord went in front of them in a pillar of cloud by day, to lead them along the way, and in a pillar of fire by night.”[5]

In the fire is the presence of God and in the fire is the refining power of the Holy Spirit – also God.  When we look at the fire as good news, it’s like the preacher in our Hebrews reading says when we look to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, the one we look to shake loose “the sin that clings so closely” so that we can “run with perseverance the race that is set before us.[6]  The presence and power of God revealed in cross and in resurrection, in suffering and in victory over death.[7]  All those people listed by the preacher in Hebrews were of the great cloud of witnesses whose imperfection was part of how God was revealed by all that God did for, in and through them which loops us back into the Gospel of Luke and the division that Jesus is causing.  The division revealed by following Jesus because it’s a natural by-product of Jesus’ ministry of confronting the status quo – the status quo of sin that clings to us individually and collectively.  And stuff happens when the status quo is pushed.  Division happens.

The division isn’t a sudden turn or call into hatred.  Too easily we forget what Jesus said earlier in Luke’s version of the Sermon on the Mount in chapter six. “Love you enemies…if you love those who love you what credit is that to you?…Love your enemies.”[8]  Jesus says it twice!  Preaching unconditional love and grace rankles people. Jesus was ultimately executed for it.  The message of God’s kingdom brings unbearable tension but the natural by-product of division should not be construed as a call to hatred.  Rather it is a call to be in the tension that comes with calling out sin.  The Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr wrote a letter from jail and in it he talked about tension.  He said, “A negative peace is the absence of tension, a positive peace is the presence of justice.”[9]  In particular, Reverend King was calling out the sin of racism which created a heck of a lot of tension. He was assassinated in the midst of that tension too. And still, in the midst of that tension, he continued to preach non-violence saying that “hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that” in a sermon about loving your enemies.[10]

I fear that we’re confused about this distinction between division and hatred. The entertainment value of feuds and hatred in reality T.V. is a case in point.  The sharper and snarkier the comments about the people you disagree with lands you higher in the hierarchies of entertainment and politics – fanning the flames of hatred across the country.  This IS true on all the sides.  We start to believe in the righteousness of our hateful words that lead to hateful action – creating false separations between us.

But a different leader claims us in baptism, my friends – One who arrived in humble beginnings and died in humiliation; One who preached love for the outcast and the poor while loving the whole world that God so loves.[11]  The One named Jesus, who knows a thing or two about shame and darkness, also knows a thing or two about the shame and darkness that clings closely to us as sin. But Jesus also endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and now is seated at the right hand of God.[12]  The same Jesus who flows through us as the refining fire of the Holy Spirit bestowed on us in baptism. It isn’t comfortable and it isn’t easy but it prepares us to walk into a wounded world and tell the truth about ourselves and the world that surrounds us – living into the division caused by the tension of God’s kingdom – not with hatred but with love.  Amen and thanks be to God!

__________________________________________________________

[1] Luke 3:16

[2] Acts 2:3 – the books of Acts picks up where the Gospel of Luke left off.  Same authorship.

[3] Luke 9:51-56

[4] Exodus 3:3

[5] Exodus 13:21-22

[6] Hebrews 12:1-2

[7] Hebrews 12:2

[8] Luke 6:27, 32, and 35.

[9] https://www.africa.upenn.edu/Articles_Gen/Letter_Birmingham.html

[10] Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. “Loving Your Enemies” in Strength to Love: A Book of Sermons (New York: Harper & Row Pocket Books, 1968).

[11] John 3:16-17

[12] Hebrews 12:2