Pastor Caitlin Trussell, Augustana Lutheran Church in Denver—August 30, 32026.

[sermon begins after two Bible readings]

Matthew 16:21-28

Romans 12:9-21

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Dolly Parton dazzled with both savvy wisdom and diamanté rhinestones while she crooned country songs backed up with business smarts. She said what she meant and she meant what she said. I admire her for a lot of reasons. Many of you probably could list a few of your own. I preached last fall about her Imagination Library that puts millions of free books in the hands of children to the tune of millions of dollars.[1] And one of my favorite all time movie lines is hers. “Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion,” from Steel Magnolias.

When Dolly died last week, I was sad and I smiled. My first thought was that we lost a light. My second thought was that I felt similar emotions when Mr. Rogers died. Both Dolly and Mr. Rogers were famous people I never knew but had touched my life during rough patches. I couldn’t name it when I was younger, but I got that Dolly knew suffering deeply which is why her joy meant so much. Her joy had strength and grit. Her joy was hard won, in and after her own rough patches. She could hold both suffering and joy.

Holding both suffering and joy was Jesus’ invitation to his disciples. He told them that he was going to undergo great suffering, be killed AND BE RAISED. Peter was at the head of the class last week when he testified about Jesus. Now? Not so much. He appeals for Jesus’ safety. Who among us wouldn’t do the same for a friend? But in the temptation of Jesus way back in Matthew’s 4^th chapter, the invitation to Jesus to avoid his own suffering was deemed “satanic.” [2]  Hence, the name-calling here in the 16^th chapter. The cross talk is confusing. Jesus warns against self-preservation in the face of suffering as he tells his followers to “deny themselves and take up their cross and follow [him].” Jesus’ first disciples knew that crosses killed slaves and political rebels who defied Rome at their peril.[3]  They hadn’t seen crosses on top of church buildings or worn around people’s necks. Crosses didn’t become a Christian symbol until the 5^th century.[4]

Here, Jesus BEGAN to instruct his disciples’ about suffering and the cross. He knew his teaching about the cross would need some repetition. The cross of Christ isn’t something that’s easy to bear or to understand. We remind each other that the cross is the foundational story of our faith while spending a lifetime working out what it means, while our minds try to figure out the difference between divine and human things. This is the tricky part, isn’t it?

Divine things sound simple to figure out but we get them confused with human things all the time. For instance, denying self and picking up your cross does NOT mean forsaking your own wellbeing in persistent situations of abuse and violence.[5] Jesus doesn’t go to the cross to annihilate himself. Jesus goes to the cross as a consequence to the life he lived and the solidarity he showed.[6] Self-denial is an attribute of the Christian community who follow Jesus in seeing and acting on the image of God in each person, in taking risks to do so, and in facing the consequences of those risks with grace.

Congregationally, we try to discern together the difference between divine and human things. An imperfect system, yet somehow our collective wisdom across different points of view lands us in a new place. Arguably, our advocacy and legislative work on issues of human dignity holds a tension between divine and human things. We attempt to figure out which community partners we’re going to work with while working alongside those who face injustice from local and national challenges that deeply affect our neighbors next to us in the pews, in our city, in our country, and around the world.

Welcome 150 is another such thing. Celebrating this congregation’s 150^th anniversary of our founding in 2028 gives us chance to think beyond ourselves into a future some of us won’t live to see. Much like our ancestors in the faith who first gathered as this church and built one building, and then another building, and then this building, we are renewing this building as we learn to care for a building that’s more than 50 years old, and as we care for what we were given so that we can share it with others in welcome and grace. That’s down the road a piece but Welcome 150 is a way to say that this place matters as a place of Jesus, a place of grace, a place of welcome, a place of belonging, and a place for the community outside these walls. A place for people now and for generations to come.

That may be all well and good in theology and theory and our broader work in the world. But I’d like to drop us into what’s real for many of us right now, today, this week. Perhaps the world’s woes are more than overwhelming with the flash flood devastation for our human siblings in Nepal and Tibet; or the wars in Africa’s Sahel region, or in Iran, or Ukraine, or the Holy Land. Or perhaps physical or emotional pain makes it hard to see straight or to even get through the next minute. The 30,000-foot theological view can be too much and not enough. We hear the reassurance that Jesus’ self-sacrifice on the cross means that God knows suffering personally and suffers with us when we suffer, but the promise falls flat because the fatigue and challenges are too great.

Phew, thank God for Paul’s letter to the Roman church. Basic directions for the faithful are listed—no assembly required. Sometimes what we need is one simple tip that focuses us on making it through the day. Here’s a quick bullet point summary of Paul’s list:

Hold onto something good.

Show honor.

Welcome a stranger.

Serve.

Pray.

Be humble.

Feed an enemy.

Cry with someone who’s crying.

Laugh with someone who’s joyful.

Joy IS defiance in a culture that benefits from perpetuating fear, anger, hate, and division. Dolly doubled down when she was ridiculed for her big hair and sparkly clothes—her hair got bigger and her clothes got more sparkly. She embraced joy despite the suffering she endured and celebrated our shared humanity when life was painful. Dolly was a faithful saint no matter her fragility.

Faithful saints remain fragile sinners. No one is perfect. Hence that grace that Jesus so freely gives us and we are free to give ourselves and others even when it may seem risky. We are a congregation who celebrate God’s grace and one another, who find good in the world and who do good in the world. We are Jesus’ people who follow the One who makes us one. Thanks be to God and amen.

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[1] Hope Holds Laughter Through Tears and Hope Lives Here | Caitlin Trussell on November 9, 2025 at caitlintrussell.org.

[2] John Petty. Commentary on Matthew 16:21-28 on August 28, 2017 for Pentecost 13. http://www.progressiveinvolvement.com/

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Cody J. Sanders, Associate Professor of Congregational and Community Care and Leadership, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Sermon Brainwave podcast for August 30, 2026. #1099: Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost – August 30, 2026 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[6] Matthew Skinner, Professor of New Testament, Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN. Sermon Brainwave podcast for August 30, 2026. #1099: Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost – August 30, 2026 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

[sermon begins after two Bible readings]

Psalm 23 The Lord is my shepherd;
I shall not be in want.
² The Lord makes me lie down in green pastures
and leads me beside still waters.
³ You restore my soul, O Lord,
and guide me along right pathways for your name’s sake.
⁴ Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall 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, and my cup is running over.
⁶ Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. 

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. ³He sent his slaves to call those who had been invited to the wedding banquet, but they would not come. ⁴Again 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.’ ⁵But they made light of it and went away, one to his farm, another to his business, ⁶while the rest seized his slaves, mistreated them, and killed them. ⁷The king was enraged. He sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city. ⁸Then he said to his slaves, ‘The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy. ⁹Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.’ ¹⁰Those 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, ¹²and he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?’ And he was speechless. ¹³Then 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.’ ¹⁴For many are called, but few are chosen.”

[sermon begins]

Even in the age of AI, desperate students still have CliffsNotes that boil down long, sometimes tedious, novels into a few main points that can be used to write essays…or, as many a desperate student tells their parents, to better understand the story while reading said tedious novel. I was afraid to use them for fear of getting caught by teachers way smarter than my high school self. But, there is a valid argument for boiling down difficult ideas to make them more accessible. Here’s my attempt at the CliffsNotes version of Jesus’ parable of the Wedding Banquet in today’s reading from Matthew’s gospel:

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 CliffsNotes version 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 hope I would have the courage not to put on the robe but I don’t think I’m that brave.

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. As Pastor Gail has emphasized over the last two weeks, we need to be really careful with Jesus’ parables, especially these last three from the last three Sundays. Jesus’ told these three parables after he entered Jerusalem towards 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 eternal 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 because his message of absurd hope, extravagant grace, and expansive love was just too much for the powers that be. The wedding banquet echoes the crucifixion, both ending with the outer darkness. The king, the one in power, threw a fit when his party went awry. The king doesn’t 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]

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 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. Violence is not a solution. The cross is a shining example of the lost cause of violence and the darkness it perpetuates. Violence begets violence.

Violence replicates itself best, especially among humans. We struggle with the lesson of violence over and over again as we say things that hurt people or sometimes we actually hit people. Violence on the world stage is something we’re more than familiar with given Russia’s attack on Ukraine and Ukraine’s military defense against Russia. And again this week watching Hamas’ attack Israeli civilians and Israel’s military strike back. These cycles of violence are not just weeks or decades old. They’re centuries, even millennia old. People much smarter than me have made plenty of public comments regarding these violent conflicts. Those of us on the sidelines of them are often overwhelmed by compassion. Compassion means “to suffer together.”[4] We see people killed, bombs exploding, and buildings falling, and are moved by compassion, wanting to do something to alleviate the suffering and failing 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 a compassionate urge to help is thwarted by a large-scale event. 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 hope is critically important. Today is one such message of hope. 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 Ministry for mental health is helping us learn to be a church that meets the suffering of mental illness with compassion and hope. When you come up and light a candle, you’re invited to take one of the smooth stones that says hope or compassion. You can hold the stone as a prayer when you’ve run out of words to pray.

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 we 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 hope and compassion, to include the world that God loves. When we bear persistent pain, Christ’s compassion knows no bounds. 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)