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Weekly audio of sermons preached at Cross of Grace Lutheran Church in New Palestine, Indiana
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The Right Questions
Dec 8, 2024Tap to summarizeMark 8:27-30Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea-Philippi. Along the way he asked them, “Who do people say that I am?” They said to him, “John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.” Jesus said to them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answered him, “You are the Messiah.” And Jesus sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him. I hope you remember we’re focusing our time during these Advent days on a book by David Brooks called How to Know a Person: The Art of Seeing Others Deeply and Being Deeply Seen, in which he talks about pragmatic, practical practices to achieve spiritual, holy ways of living in the world.And Brooks devotes a whole chapter to the idea of and the power behind questions. With the aim of growing into the kind of people who want to know others more deeply – to see them for who they really are and to care about that – Brooks proposes that we should be the kind of people who ask questions. And not just any questions, but good, curious, open-ended, thoughtful questions that invite others to respond comfortably … in ways that reveal something about who they are, how they see and experience the world, and how they want to be seen and received by others around them.Brooks goes so far as to say that he’s, “come to think of questioning as a moral practice. When you are asking a good questions, you are adopting a posture of humility. You’re confessing that you don’t know and you want to learn. You’re also honoring a person. We all like to think we are so clever that we can imagine what’s going on in another’s mind. But the evidence shows that this doesn’t work. People are just too different from each other, too complicated, too idiosyncratic.”I learned a long time ago – either from my Psychology and Counseling classes or from watching Oprah – about the danger of certain kinds of questions. Questions like “Where do you work?” or “Where do you live?” or “If you went to college and where?” aren’t the best things to ask when you’re just being introduced to someone.Brooks says those questions imply that you’re about to make a judgment about a person based on their responses. Someone pointed out to me once that, asking someone what they do for a living – which is probably a first inclination for many of us, right? – implies and perpetuates a false notion that what we do for work is the most important, valuable, interesting thing about us. (That may be true for some, but surely isn’t true for most.)We all know, too, how superficial and worthless it is to ask most folks how they’re doing when we greet them – the answer is almost always “fine,” or “okay,” or “good, how are you?” Which is to say, the answer is always incomplete, at its best, and it’s often a lie, at its worst. We’re rarely 100% “fine,” “okay,” or “good.” And there are plenty of days when we offer those answers when we are feeling everything but “fine,” “okay,” or “good.”If you’ve ever participated in our CrossRoads class for folks curious about the ministry here, you know that one of my favorite ice-breaker questions is, “Where did you live when you were in the 8th grade?” I always like the surprising geographical connections made between whoever is in the room. It’s fun to see who has landed in Indiana from the farthest distance. We’ve had people realize they grew up in the same or neighboring towns in other states. We’ve had people who knew the same pastors or who went to the same church, way back in the day. But the connections and common ground are often deeper than that, because it’s hard to talk about where you lived in 8th grade without also, perhaps, mentioning why; or how long ago that was for you; or what your life was like in those days.David Brooks offers up some really good questions in his book that I hope you’ll consider asking folks at your next office Christmas party or family gathering in the days ahead: “What’s working really well in your life at the moment?”“What are you most confident about?”“When was a time you adapted to change?”“What has become clearer to you as you’ve gotten older?”“What’s a Christmas tradition your family keeps?Again, consider those questions in the days to come and be bold about asking them of others to see what comes of the answers you receive and share.Because, remember – and here comes the spiritual, holy part of it all – the point of this sermon series and of this Advent journey together, is to open ourselves to the birth of Jesus in ways I believe God intended from the very beginning. In a world where people are increasingly distant from one another and divided by so many things … In a world where we increasingly let technology do the talking and the working for us … In a world where it’s easier to hide behind screens and so tempting to stick to our cultural, political, theological silos … I believe the Gospel of the incarnation – the good news of God showing up among us as a human being – is as holy, as challenging, and as relevant as it ever was.David Brooks closes his chapter on questions by saying, “Each person is a mystery. And when you are surrounded by mysteries … it’s best to live life in the form of a question.”And I think that’s something Jesus teaches us, too … to live life in the form of a question. People like to pretend that having faith and living a life of faith is about being certain and knowing answers and having black-and-white, yes-and-no, right-and-wrong views on life’s most pressing questions.But more often than not, it seems to me, Jesus responds to the request for those things – certainty… answers… yes/no, black/white, right/wrong propositions – with more questions, or stories, at least, that leave a whole lot up to our interpretation and imagination.When his followers come to him asking that he interpret the signs in the sun, the moon and the stars… when they come hoping for a sign, telling them that the end is near … Jesus doesn’t give a hard and fast answer. He says, “no one knows; neither the angels in heaven, nor the son, but only the Father,” so just keep your eyes peeled, be curious, and get ready.When that lawyer asked Jesus once, “Who is my neighbor?,” Jesus doesn’t give him a list of addresses or a litany of names. He tells him a story about a particular Samaritan that contradicted everything they’d ever been taught to believe about any Samaritans – that they could be good, merciful, kind, loving neighbors – and better and more righteous, even, than a priest and a Levite.And this morning, while he’s milling around the region of Caesarea-Philippi, he asks his disciples to let him know what the word on the street is about him. What are people saying? What have you heard? “Who do people say that I am?”And they tell him what they think he’s after – the rumor, the gossip, the wrong answers and assumptions of the people on the street. And I imagine they take great joy in the foolish things people are saying. “Those idiots think you’re John the Baptist!” “I heard some knucklehead say you were Elijah, come back to life!” “I think people are so dumb and desperate they’ve painted you as some prophet like back in the day.”<p class=...
Transcribe →Advent Illuminators
Dec 5, 2024Tap to summarizeLuke 10:30-37I suspect most of us have heard Jesus’ response to the lawyer, once, who asked him, “Who is my neighbor?” Jesus told him a story:“A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell into the hands of robbers, who stripped him, beat him, and went away, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road; and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan while traveling came near him; and when he saw him, he was moved with pity. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, having poured oil and wine on them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, ‘Take care of him; and when I come back, I will repay you whatever more you spend.’ Which of these three, do you think, was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.” Yesterday Pastor Cogan and I ran into one of our Partners in Mission, Maggie Higgins, having lunch with her grandmother-in-law, Alice Christle. Maggie and her husband, Derrick, live around the corner from me. It’s likely that I drive by their house several times a day; dozens of times a week; too many times a year to count. Yesterday, I complimented Maggie on the fact that they had painted their fence. It was cool, anyway – this new, horizontally-planked, wooden fence – when they installed it a few months ago. And it’s cool now, since they had painted, more recently. I was impressed that I noticed and remembered to tell her. And glad to pay her the compliment.Maggie said thanks and asked if I’d noticed that they had also given their house a makeover. It had been yellow. Now it’s a dark gray. I hadn’t noticed. Then she asked if I’d noticed the house next door – which she and Derrick had helped makeover as well. It, too, had gone from an even brighter, bolder, brilliant yellow to a nautical kind of blue – almost exactly the color of my office here at church.I hadn’t noticed … in spite of the fact that I drive by that house just as often … several times a day, easy; dozens of times a week, for sure; too many times a year to count. And, who knows how many times since this house, like the other, changed colors, right under my un-suspecting, under-appreciating nose. I was shocked.Houses aren’t people, but David Brooks, in his book How to Know a Person: The Art of Seeing Others Deeply and Being Deeply Seen – it’s the book that is the inspiration for this Advent season at Cross of Grace, in case you haven’t heard –might say we make our way around in this world, interacting and sharing space with one another like I apparently drive to and from work a lot of the time: on auto-pilot.(You’ve had that experience – right? – where you’ve gone somewhere, arrived safely at your destination, but can’t remember a thing that happened along the way. “Did I drive the speed limit?” “Use my turn signal?” “Stop at the stop sign?”)Or, perhaps worse, even, than auto-pilot, Brooks might say that, in our interactions with one another we’re too often more worried about our own agenda, more focused on our own needs, more concerned with how we’re perceived or presenting ourselves, so that we aren’t as open to, concerned with, or focused on what’s going on in the hearts and minds and lives of the people around us.While his book isn’t particularly, pointedly religious in nature, Brooks does reference the Bible a few times. And he mentions Jesus and the Good Samaritan to illustrate this point. That priest and that Levite, walking along, minding their own business – at best; or deliberately avoiding the business of their suffering neighbor – at worst; were like me, driving to and from, going about my business, paying no mind to the changing houses of my neighbors. (Again, houses aren’t people – but you get my point.)So, Brooks proposes that we should set – as a goal in life – to learn to live as what he calls “illuminators.” An illuminator is someone like that Good Samaritan in Jesus’ parable, who keeps an eye out for, who pays attention to, who looks for ways to listen to, love, care about, and serve our neighbors – and the strangers in the world around us, too. Illuminators are those people who make the hearts and lives of those around them better, just by being with them – even if those around them aren’t outwardly struggling and suffering, lying by the side of the road.You all know an illuminator or two, right? If you were with us at dinner, I hope you see now that that’s who we were trying to have you conjure in your mind’s eye and converse about with one another: Those people who have a knack for caring about … and seeing … and bringing out the best in who you are. Those people who have a knack for asking great questions; really listening to answers – and to what lies behind those answers; remembering names, maybe; anticipating needs, perhaps; responding in genuinely meaningful, caring, loving, insightful ways. Don’t we all want to be more like those people?When (my wife) Christa was in the throes of her cancer treatments … back when the rest of the world was also in the throes of the COVID-19 pandemic … back when we were still worshiping remotely and doing worship by way of prayer vigils, opening the church for hours at a time so people could come and sit, socially-distanced, in the sanctuary to pray and meditate – “together but separately,” as we liked to say – without singing or shaking hands or speaking face-to-face … do you remember those days?Well, one Sunday, during one of those prayer vigil/open house/socially-distanced worship services, I was sitting in the sound booth, messing with the music, wearing my mask and whatnot; kind of minding my own business. There were one or two other Cross of Gracers here, quietly doing their prayer and meditation thing, when someone I thought was Sara Ostermyer walked in and sat in the back … there … where Laurel is sitting now.A second later, I got a text message from one of my very best friends, Amy, who lives in Orlando, Florida. Along with her text message was a picture of this sanctuary, our altar, and whatever was currently being projected on that wall, from the perspective of someone who was sitting in the back … there … where Laurel is sitting now.I was Gob-smacked. (Amy hadn’t seen me over in the sound booth. She thought I was at home or elsewhere in the building. So I took a picture of her from over there and texted it back, just to mess with her.)As we approached each other, we knew we were smiling beneath those damned masks, even though we couldn’t prove it. And we ignored every social-distancing protocol there ever was, hugged and cried, laughed and wept, and just sat together, crying some more, without saying much of anything.We were too exhausted by our grief over COVID, our fear about Christa’s cancer, our gratitude for our friendship, our frustration and anger that we hadn’t been able to be together until that moment. All the things and all the feels were living and moving and breathing between us – because Amy knew it was time to show up.Now, I have to say, in case she’s wa...
Transcribe →The Power of Being Seen
Dec 1, 2024Tap to summarizeAudio Block Double-click here to upload or link to a .mp3. Learn more Luke 21:25-28“There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves. People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, for the powers of the heavens will be shaken. Then they will see ‘the Son of Man coming in a cloud’ with power and great glory. Now when these things begin to take place, stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” His nickname in prison was Trunk, as in Trunk Full of Guns. It wasn’t a bad nickname to have in prison because people thought you were a little crazy, which helps when you are a scrawny teenager who's never been in a fight. As Trunk tells the story in an Esquire Magazine article ten years ago, it was July 6th, 2003. He was nervous, but determined. He and two teens even younger than him were armed like a militia; rifles, shotguns, machetes, handguns, and 2,000 rounds of ammunition. Trunk wasn’t going to a range. They took to the streets at around 3am. After a failed carjacking attempt, Trunk told his would be accomplices to head back to his house, regroup, and rethink their plan. That’s when the police officer spotted them: three young men dressed in black trench coats and armed to the teeth. Reflecting on that moment, Trunk says, the officer: “jumped behind the door of his car and told us to drop them. It was a standoff. I saw that he was shaking. I kept thinking that he must have a family. I was like, 'I don't want to be the bad guy.' I never wanted to be the bad guy. I still thought of myself as a decent person. I was still able to put myself in his shoes. I hadn't gone past the point of no return.” Trunk still had empathy. When the officer shouted Down, no one moved. But then slowly, Trunk gave the command to put down their weapons. He spent ten years in prison, a best case scenario for him. And oddly enough, Prison is what saved him, because according to Trunk, he had no other choice but to learn how to talk with other people. If he didn’t, he would have been crushed.Many years later and Trunk now helps people who were just like him: ostracized, unnoticed, and unseen.When asked if anything would have prevented him from feeling the way that he did or attempting what he did, Trunk said “I wanted attention. If someone would have come up to me and said, 'You don't have to do this, you don't have to have this strange strength, we accept you,' I would have broken down and given up.” If someone had just seen him, really seen him.The worst sin, says George Bernad Shaw, toward another person is not to hate them, but rather to not see them, which says to them you don’t matter. We have become quite accustomed to that sin. We struggle forming relationships with the people around us. David Brooks in his book, How to Know a Person, which is the book that jump started this whole series, says “we’re living in the middle of some sort of vast emotional, relational, and spiritual crisis. It is as if people across society have lost the ability to see and understand one another, which has produced a culture that is brutalizing and isolating.”And all sorts of data backs this up. In the last twenty years, suicide rates have increased by 33%. More than ⅓ of all teens say they regularly feel sad and a sense of hopelessness. We are spending less time with friends and more time alone, making us feel more lonely than ever before, especially young people and young mother in particular. Not to mention that the time we are spending with family and friends can feel tense due to our political climate and ever growing distrust of one another.In Luke, Jesus speaks of a time when there will be signs in the sun, moon, and stars. There will be distress among the nations, confusion about what’s happening on the earth, and people overwhelmed with fear. When these things happen, our redemption is near, says Jesus.When we read these texts, often the question is when, when will these things occur? When is our redemption coming? The truth is we are caught up in this in-between time. On one hand our redemption has already come with the death and resurrection of Jesus. Yet on the other hand, we are still waiting for Christ’s return, for things on earth to be as they are in heaven. We are living in this already, but not yet time. And Advent captures the essence of that time so well. The Christ child has already come, but we prepare ourselves for when Jesus comes again. Which is why asking when is the wrong question. Instead of asking when these things happen, Luke encourages us to ask how, how shall we live in the meantime?And one of, if not the best answer, to how we can live right now, in this season when we are so lonely, so quick to dismiss, so overcome with fear of the other, is to raise our heads, look each other in the eye, and truly see each other. We need to learn how we can know and understand one another. We need empathy. This can all be learned. But for us followers of Jesus, it is not just some skill set. It is also a spiritual practice, a way of being in the world, one that we have lost along the way. Our schools and universities no longer teach these skills. And a life of social media doesn’t help, because, as Brooks notes, “social media you can have the illusion of social contact without having to perform the gestures that actually build trust, care, and affection. Stimulation replaces intimacy. There is judgement everywhere and understanding nowhere.” But social media isn’t all to blame. For some the problem is egotism, or all about me thinking. For others it’s anxiety, worry and fear about how others see you. Nothing shuts down a conversation quicker than that fear.And still for others, perhaps most prominent right now, is the notion that you already know who a person is because of some small piece of information you know about them. They voted this way so they must be like this. They look a certain way, so that means they act and think this way. Some of the generalizations may have some truth to them, but they are also false to some degree, not to mention hurtful. How can we prepare to welcome Christ when we can’t engage with the Christ who is in our neighbor? How can we sing “What Child is This” when we have no interest in the child of God right next to us.Afterall, our God is El Roi, the God who sees me. That’s the name Hagar gives God in the book of Genesis. You are seen and known by God. You are loved deeply and understood completely. And if we know how God sees us, then we will know how we ought to see not only ourselves, but others too.Advent is about preparing ourselves so that we might see, know, and understand Jesus Christ. And the best preparation we can undergo to receive Christ is to see and know others the way God knows and sees us. When we do so, we are giving others the grace, love, and attention that we have received and that others so desperately need; just ask Trunk.So this month at Cross ...
Transcribe →Decisions, Decisions, Decisions
Nov 25, 2024Tap to summarizeJohn 18:33-37Then Pilate entered the headquarters again, summoned Jesus, and asked him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” Jesus answered, “Do you ask this on your own, or did others tell you about me?” Pilate replied, “I am not a Jew, am I? Your own nation and the chief priests have handed you over to me. What have you done?” Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not from this world. If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Jews. But as it is, my kingdom is not from here.” Pilate asked him, “So you are a king, then?” Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. For this I was born and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.” Decisions. Decisions. Decisions.One of mine this week was to get some long overdue tires replaced on my car before the snow and ice and cold of winter arrives in force. Every day I decide whether I have the time or the discipline or both to get to the gym in the morning before work. I had a seminary professor who packed the same exact thing for lunch every single day of the week so that he had one less thing to think about and decide upon on a daily basis.Decisions. Decisions. Decisions.We’ve been stewing about some big ones as a country and as a congregation, lately, too. Obviously, the election was all about deciding who would be President – among other things. And at Cross of Grace, we’ve asked each other to make a decision about how we will support our Building and Outreach Fund. (I know some of you are still thinking about that. Remember, those commitments are set to begin in December. Hint. Hint. Hint.)Decisions. Decisions. Decisions.Part of being alive is to have decisions to make and the nature of a decision is that there’s usually some kind of pressure to get it made. And if there’s not, time is likely to make your decisions for you. I could have waited a bit longer to get my new tires, but the season’s first snow and a road trip to Columbus helped me make that call – before an accident or a blowout made it for me.And far too often – barring some kind of emergency – the only way to be sure you’ve made the right decision is to make it and then to wait and see.And I can’t read this morning’s Gospel without wondering about Pilate’s decision. Talk about a dilemma! In the moments leading up to Jesus’ crucifixion, Pilate had a job to do – and a decision to make – and it’s been the source of many questions and much curiosity for generations that always come to fore when this reading shows up on Christ the King Sunday. Pontius Pilate was getting pressure from the people on one side and orders from King Herod on the other. And his time and little chat with Jesus didn’t make the decision any easier. “Are you the king of the Jews?” Pilate asks Jesus. “Why do you want to know?” Jesus asks Pilate.“What have you done?” Pilate wonders. “It’s nothing you’d understand,” Jesus explains, “I’m not from this world.”“You are a king, though, right?” Pilate insists. “Whatever you say,” Jesus seems to tease him, “you’ll know the truth soon enough.” “Do what you’ve gotta do.”Decisions. Decisions. Decisions.Sometimes the only way to know if you’ve made the right one is to make it… and to wait… and to see what comes of it. And I get the impression that that’s what Pontius Pilate did. He chose – what the people wanted – and he handed Jesus over to be crucified. And, I wonder when hindsight kicked in for Pilate. I wonder when the moment came that he realized what he had been a part of. I wonder … when Pilate looked back on his decision to let Jesus take the fall … did he rationalize or repent or rejoice?What’s the hardest decision you’ve had to make – or that you’ve made lately? Who to invite to the party? Or who to ask to the dance? To take the job or to quit one? To end a relationship or to begin a new one; to punish a child or to forgive a friend; to try something new or to hold onto something familiar; to confess a sin; to let go of a grudge?What’s the hardest decision on your plate right now? …Decisions. Decisions. Decisions.We all have them and if we don’t right now, we will soon enough. Some that will impact our life and some that will do nothing more than change our plans for the weekend. But no matter how big or small the decision, I think we could all use a little help – which is something of what Christ the King Sunday is about for me.It’s the last Sunday of the Church year. It’s our last chance for some holy perspective before we begin another season of Advent and waiting and getting ready for Christmas. It’s an invitation to take a last look back before we start looking forward again.Christ the King Sunday – with this strange foray into the crucifixion of Jesus, just before we prepare for his birth, yet again – is about perspective. It’s about hindsight. It’s about clarity and purpose. And it’s about decisions. Whether it’s about new tires, exercise, elections, or financial commitments; whether it’s about what you’ll have for lunch or where you hang your hopes for the future, Christ the King and the promises of Jesus, are about deciding.See, we often look at Pilate as the one who had the decision to make. To crucify Jesus or to set him free. To make King Herod happy … to appease the people … to save his own behind. We can look at Pontius Pilate and be angry with him or feel sorry for him or wonder what would have happened had he decided differently. But really, Christ the King Sunday and the story of Jesus’ crucifixion aren’t just about Pilate, the governor of Judea; or King Herod the ruler for Rome; or the Jews, the chief priests, and the crowds in Jerusalem. Christ the King Sunday is about you and me. The decision Pilate had to make is as much mine as it is yours – and ours together.Decisions. Decisions. Decisions.It’s not about getting into heaven, as too many pretend. It’s not about making our time here easier than it might be otherwise, that would be easy, if it were possible. The decision we’re called to make today – and every day – isn’t about saving Jesus from the crucifixion, it’s too late for that. And it’s not about coming up with the right answers or earning our salvation – that’s already been decided, too, thanks be to God.The decisions we’re called to consider on Christ the King Sunday – and every day – are about the difference Jesus makes in our life and about the difference he – and we – can make in the world.Because today’s reminder is that Jesus was a different kind of king – one not from or of the broken world where we live. Jesus was a king who decided for love instead of judgment. He was a different kind of king who decided for peace instead of war. He was a different kind of king who decided for hope instead of despair; rags instead of riches; generosity instead of greed; humility instead of pride; thorns instead of jewels. And he was a king who opted to hang on a cross rather than to sit on a throne.Decisions. Decisions. Decisions.Large or small, they’re ours to make. Deadlines or not, their time will come. Right or wrong, we’ll live with the results. No matter how many or how difficult or how varied the decisions may be that life puts before us, the cross of Christ the King blesses us with a perspective that makes them endurable, that gives them meaning, and that makes our choices different, we pray, by the influence of God’s grace. Life with Jesus as our King means to put everything else into perspective. Christ the King reminds us that God chose grace. Christ the King reminds us that God chose forgiveness. Christ the King reminds us that God chose death and resurrection and new life and good news.And Christ the King reminds us that God has chosen each of us – you and me – and that our decisions get to be made with a holy kind of faith and boldness and freedom because of it. In a world that too often decides otherwise, we get to choose grace. We get to choose justice. We get to choose generosity and forgiveness and hope and love and Truth – because God has chosen them all for us first – for good – and forever – in the name of Jesus Christ, our King.Amen
Transcribe →Building the Church, Bringing the Kingdom
Nov 17, 2024Tap to summarizeMark 13:1-8As Jesus came out of the temple, one of his disciples said to him, “Look, Teacher, what large stones and what large buildings!” Then Jesus asked him, “Do you see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left upon another, all will be thrown down.”When he was sitting on the Mount of Olives opposite the temple, Peter, James, John, and Andrew asked him, privately, “Tell us, when will this be and what will be the sign that all of these things are about to be accomplished?” Then Jesus began to say to them, “Beware that no one leads you astray. Many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he,’ and they will lead many astray. When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come. For nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be earthquakes in various places; there will be famines. This is but the beginning of the birth pangs.” Hooray for a Gospel text about the impermanence and seeming unimportance of temples, stones, synagogues, and buildings on Commitment Sunday for the Building and Outreach Fund. All of this, will indeed, be thrown down and turned to dust someday.But I hope you agree with Jesus, of course.As focused and as fierce as we’ve been about building this place and paying off our mortgage and all that has gone into that, over the course of our congregation’s short life together, we’ve always tried to be faithful about the truth that the Church is not a building; that our identity and purpose isn’t always, ever, or only about having an address, or about merely what happens inside these walls. We were very much “the Church” before we called any of this home and we are very much “the Church” when we’re not gathered here. We are very much “the Church” even when – especially when – we’re doing our thing, living our lives out there in the world, for the sake of the world. And horray for a text that taps in to so much of the fear, angst and anxiety that so many are feeling about life in the world these days – wars and rumors of wars; nation rising up against nation; earthquakes, famine, natural disasters and more that make you think maybe the beginning of the end might actually be right around the corner.Because of all that, our call is to bring the Kingdom – to see and to celebrate what God has already begun, in Jesus – and work to make God’s will and God’s way come to life among us and through us and for the sake of the world … here on earth as it is in heaven; to make the Kingdom of this world look and be more like God’s Kingdom, on the other side of heaven.Which is why our Building and Outreach Fund matters, as we wonder about and make commitments to support it this morning and in the days to come. Yes, some portion of it all is about the bricks, the mortar, the “stones” that will, one day, all be thrown down and turned to dust, as Jesus promises. But the rest of it is about bringing the kingdom, doing the work, sharing the life and grace and mercy of God wherever and however we are able.Last week, one of my favorite preachers invited us to do a few things in response to the state of things following our country’s recent election, regardless of how we may be feeling about all of that. Pastor Cogan suggested that, if things didn’t go our way, we should share our fear, our anxiety, and our sadness about that with those who did get what they wanted. And he suggested that, if we are the latter – if things went as we hoped they would – we should listen to the concerns and needs of our struggling neighbors who are feeling scared, unseen, and worried about the days to come.In other words, some of what I heard from Pastor Cogan last week was an invitation to listen to each other and get to work.And I’ve done that. I’ve received texts and e-mails. I’ve had sit-downs over lunch, spontaneous conversations in the library, seen tears in my office, felt the anger expressed – in passing – in the hallway and at the drug store, because there just aren’t enough of the right words sometimes.Now, I haven’t and I won’t have all the answers for all of that at every turn. But I will risk playing both sides against the middle – or something like that, this morning – in order to find a middle-ground of grace and hope no matter where we find ourselves with regard to all of it.See, as I wondered about today – searching for some hope in light of all of our collective mixed emotions (happy/sad, relieved/anxious, victorious/lost, hopeful/despairing) – I came away grateful for this place, for our ministry, and for the work we do that responds with action in real time to the things that can and should concern all of us these days. In an otherwise divided, fractured country, the mission and ministry of this place calls us to some common ground and some holy work.For instance, if it was “the economy, stupid” that informed your vote last Tuesday … if the price of groceries and gas was enough to make you vote a certain way, I’m so glad we have a food pantry that is meeting that need for so many of our neighbors. (Don’t forget, our Mission Sunday this month is to provide Thanksgiving dinners for people in our community. $50 bucks will help provide a meal with all the fixins for someone who might not otherwise be able to celebrate.) That is the Lord’s work, regardless of your politics.Or if abortion care, abortion access, and the health of women and babies was an issue that inspired your vote – one way or the other – whether you got what you wanted, or not – I hope you noticed that we gave $5,000 to the Milk Bank with our Outreach Grants this year. This is money, and they are an organization, that supports the health and wellness of women and infants, in crisis, in powerful ways – no matter the politics that lead to their distress or need – and that will hopefully help to mitigate more of that distress or need, come what may.If you’re concerned about the status of immigration in our country, please know that we gave $10,000 to Exodus Refugee Immigration this past year, thanks to our Outreach grants, too. (And some of us helped at their headquarters on “God’s Work. Our Hands.” Sunday, in September.) Exodus protects the human rights and dignity of refugees fleeing persecution and war, and helps them get settled safely in central Indiana. This is faithful, Biblically-mandated, Christ-centered work. And our generosity helps make it happen.If you are concerned about the quality of public education and the equity with which it is offered in our state or in our nation – and some of my favorite teachers have told me that we should be – I hope you’re encouraged to know we also gave $10,000 to Brightlane Learning’s “School on Wheels” this year. They offer tutoring, academic support, and advocacy to kids and families – grades K through 12 – who are struggling with homelessness and housing insecurity, while trying to get a quality education.If you feel like the status and place of women in our culture has taken a hit again in recent days, I hope you’re encouraged by our $10,000 grant to Talitha Koum’s recovery house for women. That money and that ministry over in Greenfield helps women, specifically, recover from addiction and trauma, and get back on their feet to become healthy and whole again, for their own good, and for the good of our world.So, again, if our call is to bring the Kingdom of God to bear in and upon the kingdoms of this world, we are doing that in real time, for real people, in real, practical, tangible ways, that really matter.And there are beautiful, faithful, inspiring, intangible ways to facilitate and accomplish that through our life together, too.Witnessing the love between two people – in marriage, as we did this morning already at our first service – is a glimpse and a gift of that, for sure. It speaks to commitment and love and hope in ways that can’t be measured, but practiced, nonetheless. Making our confession, receiving our forgiveness; sharing the sacraments in bread, wine, and water and all the good news they portend; passing the peace; loving our neighbor; forgiving our enemy. None of these things can be quantified like so much grant money, but they can be witnessed, felt, received; and they are our life blood, purpose, and inspiration for all the rest.All of this is to say, I see a lot of platitudes and clichés about how we’re supposed to get along – as friends, as family members, as neighbors, and as people in the Church in the days ahead – in spite of the differences that threaten to divide us. That is so much easier said, than done – which is something else I hear and feel when I listen to my neighbor, and to many of you.But it’s been said that the local church is the hope of the world – and I believe it. It is a tall order. It is a daunting task. It can feel like an impossible, exhausting expectation, for sure. But it is nonetheless why we do what we do – if not to redeem the lot of it, then to point to the hope of the only one who can, who does, and who will, one day – Jesus Christ, our Lord.Amen
Transcribe →Good Government and Scarred Hands
Nov 10, 2024Tap to summarizeMark 12:38-44As he taught, he said, “Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces, and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honor at banquets! They devour widows’ houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation.”He sat down opposite the treasury, and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny. Then he called his disciples and said to them, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.”Psalm 146 Praise the Lord!Praise the Lord, O my soul! I will praise the Lord as long as I live; I will sing praises to my God all my life long. Do not put your trust in princes, in mortals, in whom there is no help. When their breath departs, they return to the earth; on that very day their plans perish. Happy are those whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord their God, who made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them;who keeps faith for ever; who executes justice for the oppressed; who gives food to the hungry.The Lord sets the prisoners free;the Lord opens the eyes of the blind.The Lord lifts up those who are bowed down; the Lord loves the righteous.The Lord watches over the strangers; he upholds the orphan and the widow, but the way of the wicked he brings to ruin.The Lord will reign for ever, your God, O Zion, for all generations.Praise the Lord! I guess we should talk about the elephant in the room… After months and months of ads, hateful rhetoric, campaign appeals, we have selected a new president. And from what I have heard from people in this community, from my family, from my social media feed, folks all over the spectrum as to how they feel about it. Some people are happy and defiant, others sad and even scared. Some are relieved while others are full of worry. Some are angry, surprised, indifferent, or any combination of it all. And my guess is that you find yourself harboring those feelings this morning too. What word, what message, do we all need to hear? and can it be the same one? Is there something that can calm the anxious and scared hearts while also speaking to those who are elated? Can anything speak to those who feel like they have won, those who have lost, and those somewhere in between?Some of you may know this, but Pastor Mark and I don’t select the readings for Sunday mornings. They are selected for us by the lectionary, this 3 year cycle of readings. Sometimes the readings are not what we want nor what we would have picked. Other times, they line up and speak to the moment with divine timing and inspiration. Today is one of those days. Because if there was any psalm we needed this morning, one that we needed to lift up as a reminder and as a prayer today and in the weeks, months, and years to come, it’s this one. It’s the psalm we all needed to hear regardless of who won the election. It is the psalm for all of us, however you find yourself this morning. Usually, Psalms have some sort of context shared with us, a subtitle of sorts telling us who wrote it, when, and in response to what. However, this psalms has none of that and allows us to hear it in our own time and context, like after a major election. Psalm 146 is the beginning of what is known as the “Final Hallel”. It’s the last five Psalms in the whole book, each one opening and closing with the words “hallelujah” — “praise the LORD,”. The Psalmist promises to praise the Lord as long as they live.Many of you did not awake today or the last few days saying hallelujah. Some of you did. Regardless of where you fall on that spectrum, it is what follows that everyone ought to hear this morning. The psalmist contrasts the praiseworthy God with a warning: “do not put your trust in princes, in mere people, in whom there is no help”. Princes, presidents, those in authority, the wealthy with power and status, cannot give you, not just help, but the Hebrew word is Teshua, which means salvation. In other words, do not put your trust in people, no matter how much influence and power they hold, because at the end of the day, they are still just a person, a sinful child of God thrown out of Eden like the rest of us. They cannot save you. And for us Christians, particularly Lutheran Christians, this should come as no surprise, because that’s not the role of a president or of any government. According to Luther, God works in two distinct ways in the world. One way is through Government or secular authority, or as Luther called it, the left hand of God. Think of elected positions, courts, laws, schools, etc. These institutions are created by God to help protect each other, create peace, and prevent evil. That is what good government is supposed to do, so that everyone can thrive out in the world. The other way God works is through the right hand, and that is the spiritual kingdom or the kingdom of God. Think of churches, community of believers, the body of Christ, and that kingdom lives out the gospel, sharing the good news of God’s grace through word and deed.The government’s job, says Luther, is not to be your salvation, it can’t be, because it can never make you believe in the Gospel. Matters of the heart belong to the right hand. The left hand is to protect people, to prevent chaos, to curb greed and anger and violence, making a society equal and equitable. Will it ever fully accomplish that? No, because it is made up of imperfect people who can’t help but create imperfect systems. Like one where a widow can give her very last two cents, while good Jews walk right by to give their large tithes that cost them nothing. I don’t think that by lifting up this example Jesus is simply saying give like the widow. He is also condemning the social conditions, the systems that pray on the weak and vulnerable, while the wealthy give from their surplus, seemingly unconcerned about their neighbors giving not just till it hurts, but until there is nothing left to give.When the left hand fails our neighbors, when it ceases to protect the most vulnerable, that’s when Christians can’t help but get involved, but never for our own benefit. The left hand of God, secular authority, is never meant to benefit us. As followers of Christ, we operate under the same rules, but with a different posture. We don’t extract revenge, we seek forgiveness. We don’t seek to be first, but rather last. We don’t hold a grudge, but offer grace. Which is why you participate, obey, and serve in government, never for your own sake, but only for the sake of your neighbor. We cannot tolerate any injustice toward our neighbor, says Luther, and that is in accordance with the gospel. Good government then should look a whole lot like the work prescribed to God by the psalmist. It should execute justice for the oppressed, give food to the hungry, set the wrongfully imprisoned free, care for the sick, lift up the lowly, protect the stranger and the immigrant, and thwart the way of the wicked. If it doesn’t do that, all of it, then we, empowered and informed by the right hand, challenge, speak out, and advocate until the left hand does.In Jesus, these two hands meet. He honored the governing authorities, gave to Caesar what was Caesar's, and yet at the same time challenged the Roman occupation for its oppressive ways. And how these two hands of Jesus were at work in the world was through sacrifice, leaving both of them scarred, showing all of us that the way we live in both kingdoms, the left and the right is by putting your neighbor before yourself. (your black neighbor, your queer neighbor, your muslim neighbor, your immigrant neighbor, your poor neighbor, your republican neighbor, your democrat neighbor).For forty days, we prayed together. Did the prayers work? I guess it’s hard to say because we did not pray for a candidate or for a party to win. We prayed for peace and unity. For our leadership and for justice. We prayed for love of neighbor. The question of whether we will have all of that does not come down to who was elected, but how we will act regardless of who we elected. Because we are God’s scarred hands at work in the world and if we want those prayers to come true, it’s up to us.If you are thrilled with our president elect, know, listen, and hear your neighbors who feel scared, unseen, and worried about what another four years will bring under that administration. Then do all you can to make sure your government protects them, brings peace, and prevents evil.If you are sad, anxious, fearful about what is to come, your trust is not in some person, but in the Lord your God who promises justice. Tell your siblings in Christ when you are suffering, where there is injustice, and let them go to work on your behalf, because that’s how we are supposed to work in this world.To...
Transcribe →"We Are Loved"
Nov 3, 2024Tap to summarizeJohn 8:31-36Then Jesus said to the Jews who had believed in him, ‘If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples; and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.’ They answered him, ‘We are descendants of Abraham and have never been slaves to anyone. What do you mean by saying, “You will be made free”?’Jesus answered them, ‘Very truly, I tell you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin. The slave does not have a permanent place in the household; the son has a place there for ever. So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed. A little over 20 years ago, Rolling Stone magazine published its first list of the 500 greatest albums of all time. They did so because people were talking about the death of the album, probably in large part thanks to Napster and young teens downloading songs from limewire on the family computer and burning cd’s with random songs. Rolling Stone has updated that list a few times since the original release, most recently just last December, 2023. According to them, Blue by Joahnie Mitchel came in at three, followed by the Beach Boy’s Pet Sounds at number 2, and taking the top spot at number 1 was Marvin Gaye’s “What's Going On”. I am not here to argue about what albums should have been on there or which one’s they got wrong, though I feel I should mention not one Indigo Girls album made the list making one of your pastor’s very sad. The list is quite arbitrary, mainly because it was simply ranked choice voting by a variety of artists, producers, and critics. I think many would argue that like beauty, good music lies in the ear of the listener. And while I agree, there are some things I think great music does to or for a person. Now I am just a pastor who played the Tuba for five years, so take this with a grain of salt, but for me Great music proclaims a truth that we experience in our lives. Through storytelling, the melody, or the art of its composition, It can tell us something that we need to know, a truth we might not have otherwise understood.On this Reformation Sunday we focus on music and the good it does in our lives and faith, because this year we celebrate the 500th anniversary of the first Lutheran Hymnal. In 1524, Luther took four hymns he had written and four from his friend Paul Speratus to make what was called Acht-lie-der-buch, or in english the “Eight Songs Book”. It was nothing crazy to produce a hymnal, but Luther and the reformation as a whole changed the way the church engaged with music forever. Luther wanted songs to be written with simple words, words that everyone would know, not just the highly educated. And he wanted the music to be familiar, something people might already know. So he often borrowed popular folk tunes of the day and set lyrics to them that people would understand, making it easy to sing along with. This was revolutionary, because at the time the catholic mass was done entirely in Latin, most church goers didn’t know the music, and therefore no one but the priests sang in worship. Luther’s approach to music changed all of that. He wanted everyone to sing since that’s how people would not only understand the gospel message, but because the music was catchy and familiar, the good news of Jesus Christ would always be on one’s lips, praising God morning, noon, and night.He wrote on multiple occasions that next to the Word of God itself, music is the greatest treasure in this world. When done right, it helps one’s heart, quiets and cheers the soul because it teaches the gospel and praises God. That’s why Luther loved music. You see Luther suffered from terrible anxiety throughout much of his life. In his early years of being a monk, he would fall into these dark episodes of despair. He felt like God didn’t love him, like God couldn’t love him. He wasn’t good enough, he didn’t keep all the commandments like he should, and didn’t do all the things the Bible says Christians should do. He writes about this feeling in one of those hymns from that first hymn book 500 years ago, saying “life had become a living hell, so firmly sin possessed me. My own good works availed me naught, no merit they attaining; my will against God's judgment fought, no hope for me remaining.” My guess is at one time or another, or maybe even right now, you’ve felt hopeless because you aren’t good enough: not smart enough, not fit enough, not successful enough in the eyes of the world, and certainly not good enough in the eyes of God. You try so hard to get it right, to pray more, get less angry, be more generous, or even care about all the suffering in this world. And you may for a time, but you can never quite rid yourself of whatever it is that makes you feel like God could not and should not love you.But then Luther read again what we heard this morning from Romans 3: “No one is justified by what they do. We are justified, we are made right with God only by God’s grace as a gift, through the work of Jesus Christ”. Later in that same hymn, Luther shares this good news from Jesus’ perspective, “Your ransom, I myself will be; for you I strive and wrestle. For I am yours, your friend divine, and evermore you shall be mine.” In other words, Luther remembered that it’s not what he says or does or how much money he pays the church or how many prayers he lifts up, none of that takes away his sin or puts him in the right relationship with God. Only Jesus does that by his work on the cross, taking our sin in exchange for his grace. Only a God who loves me more than I can fathom would do such a thing. And that's something worth singing about. Now there are plenty of songs that proclaim that truth, from ancient hymns to albums on that top 500 list. Yet, recently I heard or more like we heard a new song that shares the heart of the gospel, +Mark and I, I mean.In August, we went to an Avett Brothers concert together at Gainbridge Fieldhouse. A few weeks before the show, I reached out to a stranger selling her tickets on Facebook only to then check the family calendar and realize we were booked. On the day of the concert, the woman reached back out and said I could have the tickets, no cost, completely free. We canceled our plans, but couldn’t find a sitter so short notice, so Katelyn graciously agreed to stay behind with Clive if I could get someone to go. And I know of no one who likes concerts more than Pastor Mark Havel. So we went and about halfway through, Scott and Seth, took the stage with nothing but an acoustic guitar and their voices. And they sang a new song. Each verse juxtaposes the many ways we go through life, whether we speak up or are silent, if we are willing or we are done. If we’re courageous or cowards. All the verses go through a series of these conditions, but each one ends with proclaiming the truth “we are loved”. And the chorus goes, “Every stitch and seam, every wish and dream, even in tragedy, there lies divinity. Even as hope seems lost, it may be found again. I have felt alone, but I have never been.” Their voices filled the fieldhouse and in that moment, I believed them. It was as if they were telling me again for the first time, the heart of the gospel, that no matter what you do in this life, it does not earn you grace. You are loved, and nothing in this life can take that away from you. As the song came to a close, I turned to Mark and said “don’t even think about it, I'm using that in a sermon first!”On this reformation Sunday, I invite you to sing, not just today but everyday. To lift your voice, your instrument, and praise God through the gift of music. Find a song, whether it’s 500 years old or brand new, whether it’s on the top 500 albums or not, find a song that proclaims the truth of the gospel, that no matter what, we are loved. And then sing that song every day over and over again, thanking God for the gift of grace and music. Amen.
Transcribe →Divorce Is Hard
Oct 6, 2024Tap to summarizeMark 10:2-16Some Pharisees came, and to test him they asked, “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?” He answered them, “What did Moses command you?” They said, “Moses allowed a man to write a certificate of dismissal and to divorce her.” But Jesus said to them, “Because of your hardness of heart he wrote this commandment for you. But from the beginning of creation, ‘God made them male and female.’ ‘For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.’ So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore, what God has joined together, let no one separate.”Then in the house the disciples asked him again about this matter. He said to them, “Whoever divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery against her; and if she divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery.”People were bringing little children to him in order that he might touch them; and the disciples spoke sternly to them. But when Jesus saw this, he was indignant and said to them, “Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.” And he took them up in his arms, laid hands on them, and blessed them. First off, like last week, there are several sermons to be preached from this batch of verses from Mark’s Gospel. Also like last week, we don’t have time for all of them on one Sunday morning. So my little prelude and disclaimer about what’s to come is that these verses seem to speak to a traditional version of marriage – the one between a man and a woman – that I don’t believe precludes or dismisses or needs to deny the notion that other versions of faithful marriage exist, as we know, in our day and age.And notice I said “traditional” view of marriage, not “Biblical” view of marriage, because Jesus doesn’t say boo here about the plural marriage, or the concubines, or the surrogate slave birth mothers that are described without apology throughout Holy Scripture.And, preaching from the assigned lectionary means I have to play with the cards I’m dealt sometimes. So my hope is we can see that, whatever your experience with marriage may be – if any – there’s a lesson and inspiration here for us all. Now, for some Ted Lasso.There isn’t enough Ted Lasso in the world, in my opinion. If you haven’t seen the show, I couldn’t recommend it more highly. It’s a series about an American football coach who (accidentally I think?) signs up to be the coach of a European soccer team. Rebecca, the woman in this clip, is the owner of that soccer team who, if I remember correctly, acquired the team as part of her divorce settlement. In the short scene I’ll show you, she’s about to confess all the terrible things she has done to make the team fail – all and only as revenge against her ex-husband, from whom she has endured a very bitter divorce.[Video Clip]Again, if you haven’t seen it, do. Next time there’s a deal on Apple TV, subscribe just long enough to binge Ted Lasso and then cancel your subscription. You won’t regret it.But, all of this is to say, I think Jesus is at least as sympathetic, gracious, and forgiving as Ted Lasso when it comes to whatever leads to divorce between married people, and toward whatever might come as a result of it. Divorce is hard, plain and simple – even when it goes well. And God knows it.So this morning – as usual – we're allowed to see more in this Gospel than just a conversation about men and women; or marriage and divorce; and certainly more than fear, condemnation, or apocalyptic judgment about any of that. Like we find – more often than not – when we're willing to open our hearts and minds to all that Jesus is up to, he has more to say today about love and grace and mercy than we might notice at first glance … and more than too many people have offered up on his behalf and in his name over the years, where things like divorce are concerned.Right away we know the Pharisees are up to something. Right away we're told they're interested in testing or tricking Jesus. Because they knew questions about the Law, like the legality of divorce, were tricky ones to answer. They knew Jesus' answer – whether he defended the practice of divorce or denounced it – would get him into trouble with one side or the other. They knew that if Jesus spoke about what was legally right or wrong; about what was legally acceptable or not; about what was legally good or bad – according to the black and white letter of the Law according to Moses – Jesus was between a rock and hard place.He asks about Moses. He lets them know he sees where they're coming from. And he either sympathizes with them or chastises them when he explains how the Law of Moses addressed their hardness of heart. The Law of Moses spoke to their stubbornness. Like so much else, when it came to divorce, the Law of Moses addressed the hard reality that people – children of God, like you and me – just can't seem to get it right enough of the time. The Law of Moses addressed the sad truth that the brokenness of marriage would come because of the brokenness of those who would be married in the first place.And, Jesus knew better then to be pulled into their little game of tug-of-war. Jesus knew better then to fall for their transparent little tricks. And, Jesus knew he could use their lame little "Q and A" to share grace instead of judgment; to offer hope instead of fear; and to teach about God's promises rather throw stones about God's condemnation.Last week, I mentioned that we are allowed and encouraged to read the Bible LITERATELY, rather than LITERALLY, and I’m grateful for that. (It’s why we don’t lop off our hands or pluck out our eyes if they cause us to sin, remember.) Well, I’m going to add to that this morning something I’ve been convicted about and convinced of over the years. I think we’re also called to read the Bible, not just LITERATELY, but LOVINGLY, too … searching for and finding, without apology, the kind of grace we know, believe in, and hope for in Jesus.And that’s what I find when Mark’s Gospel includes this moment with Jesus and the kids, just after what sound like harsh, hard-to-swallow words about marriage, divorce, and adultery.See, when he’s confronted by the Pharisees, Jesus steers the conversation away from the issue of divorce and moves it toward the promise of marriage. Jesus moves the conversation away from who God may or may not punish when they get it wrong, to what God hopes and dreams for us in the first place. Jesus moves the conversation away from what breaks the Law of Moses to what breaks the heart of God. And, what breaks the heart of God – like any loving parent – is whatever breaks the hearts of God's children.Which is why that moment with the children is so instructive, and loving, and full of hope, when we consider it just after this difficult conversation about divorce and adultery and the Law and all the rest.“Let the little children come to me,” he says. “Do not stop them; for it is to such as these – these naïve, squirrelly, sinful little rug rats – that the kingdom of God belongs.”“And he took them up in his arms, laid hands on them, and blessed them.”This is a sign of hope and show of love and invitation to grace for all of God’s children – that there is room for us all in the lap of God’s mercy, no matter what.“It is to such as these – divorced, adulterous, selfish, vindictive, vengeful so-and-sos – that the kingdom of God belongs.”“It is to such as these – abused, traumatized, afraid, ashamed, exhausted, alone, uncertain souls – that the kingdom of God belongs.”“It is to such as these – regretful, remorseful, broken-hearted ones – that the kingdom of God belongs.”And he took them up in his arms even though the disciples tried to chase them away. He laid hands on them, with love, even though his followers thought they weren’t worthy. And he blessed them, even though some believed he shouldn’t or wouldn’t or couldn’t. Divorce is hard. God knows it. So did Jesus.God intends for us to live together and to love together and to choose grace and joy and forgiveness for each another. God intends for lovers to find each other and to learn to share a love that lasts. God hopes for relationships that strengthen and uplift and inspire and fulfill – and God's heart breaks when we can't seem to make that happen at every turn, even as much as we wish we could.So, just like Jesus does, the grace of God gathers broken, hurting children – like you and me – up into waiting, loving, merciful arms. Just like Jesus, the grace of God lays hands on heavy hearts. And just like Jesus, the grace of God blesses lives with forgiveness, hope, joy, and second chances.I like to wonder about what immediate effect Jesus’ teaching and preaching – and the loving and blessing of all those kids – had on those who witnessed all of this that day. Maybe one of those Pharisees went home and put the pieces of his own broken marriage back together. Maybe a mother who was there went home and hugged her kids differently at the end of the day. Maybe a disciple or two apologized to those kids or to someone they’d shamed with their misunderstanding and misinterpretation of Scripture. Maybe each of us ...
Transcribe →