Stewardship Weekend Sermon

November 14, 2021
Stewardship Sunday
Daniel 12:1-3
Psalm 16
Hebrews 10:11-35
Mark 13:1-8

Please pray with me,

May the words of my mouth and the mediations of all of our hearts be acceptable and suitable in your sight, O God, our rock, our strength and our redeemer.  Amen.  

Well here we are, gathering to celebrate stewardship weekend.  A time of celebration, of seeing and celebrating God’s abundance in our lives, a chance to share the ways we will give out of that abundance in the coming year.  It’s a time to dream big and act even bigger…knowing, in our heart of hearts, that God is a God of abundance and we are called to live out of that abundance.  

And on this celebration of abundance weekend…we have a gospel reading from the 13th chapter of Mark.  As soon as I started digging into this reading to prepare for this sermon, one theme kept popping up for me.  

Apocalypse.  

Yup, apocalypse.   This passage in the gospel of Mark is known as the ‘little apocalypse.’  I don’t know about you, but when I hear the word apocalypse, it doesn’t lead me to think about a weekend of celebration and abundance.  It makes me think of people parading around with “the end is near” signs and worries about the signs - like wars, buildings being torn down, uprisings, general disorder and chaos - you know, those things that seem to point us to the fact that it’s the end of the world as we know it.  

Not very uplifting, celebratory or hope-filled, rather it sets the tone of fear, worry and scarcity.….not really the tone the pastor would hope for a stewardship weekend.  Right?  

Okay, that is not where we want to be today.  

But here is something that I also found as I was digging into this passage from Mark, an additional definition for apocalypse, which can mean something quite different than the way we have come to know and have learned its meaning.  

An apocalypse is an unveiling.  Yes, it’s an unveiling or an uncovering - a disclosure of something secret and hidden….in the words of Debi Thomas, “to experience an apocalypse is to experience fresh sight.  Honest disclosure.  Accurate revelation.  It is to apprehend reality as we’ve never apprehended it before.”[1] 

That’s helpful, isn’t it?  

To hear this passage from Mark in a way that we are seeing it anew, that something is being unveiled for us.  

In this passage, the disciples are focused on the sight of the temple, it’s large stones and beautiful façade.  But in this revelation, Jesus invites the disciples to see beyond the grandeur of the building itself…and reveals that God’s amazing work of salvation and love is not limited to the confines of the temple, or any building.  

Jesus, again, is trying to show the disciples the new way that God is breaking into the world and that it is different from what they have known and experienced, that as the kingdom of God breaks into this world, it will not be what they expect, it’s never what any of us expect, but it is still God. 

And that, my friends is good news.  

Jesus is preparing the disciples, and us, for the coming of the kingdom of God, and the reality that is will be different than we expect, or imagine or think it will be. 

But, as Jesus is preparing the disciples, and us, he is also inviting us to see what is being revealed, as well.  He is opening our eyes to this new future, to a new way of seeing God at work in the word, he is helping us to see it with him.  

The disciples say, Look teacher, what large stones and large buildings….

But Jesus says, look…at what God can do in the world…that is not limited to buildings, or cities or systems that are already in place….

Look, at what God can and will do…with you, in spite of you and through you.  

It is far too easy, to live in a time of uncertainty, and worry about the present and the future.  

It is far too easy to wonder what will happen to the greater church as we come out of a pandemic.  

It is far to easy to be fearful about the future when we do not know what it will bring…in our world, in our nation, and even here at Trinity.  

It would be an easy response to say, I don’t know what the future will bring in this place, so I’m not sure I can support what I don’t know….

It would be easy to just fill out an estimate of giving card or a time and abilities sheet and stick to a prior year’s commitment…just holding on….to see where this year of transition takes us…

I get it…as we continue to live through a global pandemic, our lives have experienced much change.  You may not be able to give as you once were able to but that doesn’t mean we just hold where we are…

Jesus reminds us, at the end of today’s passage, that this is just the beginning of the birth pangs.  

Maybe this year of pandemic has truly brought us to a place of a new beginning…not maybe, it certainly has….the veil has been pulled back to allow us to see and be church in new and different ways, outside and online…just to name a few.  As we experienced being pushed out of this building, we discovered or rediscovered new ways to love and serve our neighbors.  

As new things have been continually revealed to us throughout the past year and a half….Jesus says, look….things will continue to be unveiled….hold fast to one another…and look, things are being unveiled.  

New ministries…

New relationships…

New faces…

New opportunities for service…

A new way of seeing this space, and how yes, it is part of doing Christ’s mission in our community, but the reality that the mission we are part of is not limited to the confines of this building…that God’s love has broken out beyond these walls into our community…and we are called to be part of that love both here…and beyond. 

So, here we are, Stewardship weekend, and Jesus has and will continue to call us to look and see God at work in the world…and Jesus calls us to be part of it…

How will you continue to be part of this mission of love in the world?  

In response to God’s amazing love and abundance in your life….how will you live out of that?  

Looking at what this place has been, is right now…and can be in the future, how are you part of that?  

As you look at your estimate of giving card, and time and abilities sheet, in what new ways are you part of Christ’s mission in this place?

Now that new things are being revealed, how are you responding in a new way?  

Are you giving more of your time?  

In learning?

In serving?

In attending worship? 

Are you giving more of your talents?  

In worship?

As we have shifted back into full worship in the sanctuary, we know that worship is the work of the people as ushers, greeters, lay assistants, screen assistants, and livestream camera folks, not to mention the amazing wealth of musicians we have in this place.  

Have you shared your talent of praying for others?  Calling people on the phone to wish them a happy birthday?  Your talents of cooking or baking?  Your artistic talents or computer talents in helping with our website or social media sites?  

Are you giving more of your treasure?  

To financially support the staff in this place as they work with lay leaders to live into the mission of Christ in this place?  

To support the upkeep of this building and it’s many upgrades?  

To support different outreach ministries of this place….like food pantry, missionary sponsors, shepherding ministries or any of the many others?  

Because here’s the deal…the kingdom, that Jesus continues to unveil to us will come and will happen…no matter what.  It will happen with us or without us and in spite of us.   

I don’t say that to be negative…but God’s church is so much bigger than this one congregation.  But wow…what a joy, what an opportunity….to be part of this new thing that God continues to birth in our world.  Right?  

We are called to be part of this new birth…this new growth…this new beginning.  

How is God calling you to be part of this new beginning?  

And now may the peace, which surpasses all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus and let all God’s people say, amen.  

 

---

[1] (https://www.journeywithjesus.net/essays/2010-not-one-stone)

All Saints

November 7, 2021
All Saints
 
Isaiah 25:6-9
Psalm 24
Revelation 21:1-6a
John 11:32-44

Please pray with me,

May the words of my mouth and the mediations of all of our hearts be acceptable and suitable in your sight, O God, our rock, our strength and our redeemer.  Amen.  

In her book Bravey, Olympian Alexi Pappas writes, 

“I think this is called grief, feeling and even embracing your painful feelings.  Pain needs to see itself in the mirror and be felt before it can go away.  When I feel sad and I hold it in, I feel completely alone.  But when I let it out, I let go of all pretenses.  I’m just a human, which is comforting because it means that I’m not alone.  It’s good to grieve.” (p. 84)

It’s good to grieve.  

There, I said it. 

I give you permission to grieve.  

The losses you are experiencing this very minute or the ones that you have experienced throughout the course of this ongoing pandemic.  

The losses have been deep and different for each and every one of us.  

We, as individuals and as a community of faith are grieving.  

We are grieving the loss of jobs, the death of loved ones, broken marriages, a pandemic that has brought too much death and division, a change in how church once was and how it will continue into the future and the loss of ‘normal life’ as we once knew it.  

So, yeah, grieve.  It’s been more than just a challenging year plus, it’s been full of stress and change, uncertainty and challenges, all seemingly without a built in break to pause, reflect and begin to heal from all of this.  

So, let’s take today as just a moment, in the middle of it all to stop.  To grieve.  To remember.  To acknowledge that what we are experiencing is real and hard and painful and there is no quick journey through this experience and sometimes it’s exhausting!  

We find ourselves to be bone tired, yet we are unable to give the heart and mind the rest it truly needs.  (Joy J. Moore)[1] Because in this time of pandemic, we have not been able to escape death….it has entered into our homes, into our lives, into our congregation…so how do we find rest in that?  Or where do we find rest?  

It seems like it’s not possible to find the space to stop, to rest, to begin this process of healing because we are expected to just keep going…

So where do we go?  

To the foot of the cross, friends…that’s the only place we can go in this moment.  

And the foot of the cross is where we meet Jesus in our gospel lesson today.  

We join Jesus as he hears about Lazarus’ death.  

And in that moment, Jesus weeps. 

Jesus weeps.   

It’s not a sentimental moment…it’s deeper than that.  

Jesus is weeping…at the death of Lazarus.

Jesus is weeping for himself and what is to come.

Jesus is weeping for the reality of death in general, because he knows death causes separation that is beyond fathomable.  

Jesus weeps for what death does in our lives and what death brings.  (Karoline Lewis)[2]

Let me say that again, Jesus weeps for what death does in our lives and what death brings.  

Here in this moment - God, present in Jesus, is bearing the weight of the world, and all he can do is weep.  

That, dear ones, is our God…in human flesh and blood, feeling our feelings, knowing the brokenness that death will create in our world…and right alongside of Mary…and us…weeping. 

I don’t know about you…but for me, in this moment, I find incredible comfort.  That the God we know and love, the one who created you and me, is present with us in this moment of grief and sits with us and weeps.  

God weeps with us and for us, for the death in our lives, for death in our world.  

In that moment the God of the whole world…is human…and lives into our grief and vulnerability.  

In that moment, God - in Jesus - is present in our grief….and is vulnerable….just like we are.  

So in this place of grief and vulnerability….the foot of the cross, if you will, is where God shows presence and power.  

And that in that grief and vulnerability God has power over death.

In that grief and vulnerability God has power over death!  

Because Christ is Risen!  He is risen indeed!

That’s what I’ve got, dear ones.  

That where we are today….we are not alone.  

God has met us in this place. 

God meets us in this place.

 

And sits with us…and weeps with us…and shows us that this is NOT the end.  

That death IS NOT the end!

There is joy beyond the weeping.

There is hope beyond the hopeless.

There is life beyond death.

I know, sometimes it hard to get past this individual or communal moment.  Sometimes, as I mentioned earlier, we need to make time for these moments to see and name and acknowledge this grief and pain and death.  

But let us do that as a community of faith and be reminded through the presence of one another, that God is here…with us…today.  

And as our journey continues, as we move forward with God beside us, our future is hopeful and hope filled because God is there in it all.  

God is here….in it all.  

Thanks be to God, because this is not short or simple journey.  This life and all the pain and grief we experience in it…takes time.  

Alexi Pappas agrees, as she writes, 

“All pain takes time.  Some hurt fades quickly, but other times it lingers like the glop of powder stuff at the bottom of a mug of hot chocolate.” (p. 84) 

You, me, us, we are all in different phases of this pain and grief.  

All of us move through grief and pain differently than others.  

Some more quickly, some more slowly…and for some, well many of us, it returns and resurfaces in unexpected ways.

So this is your pastor reminding you all, to be gentle with one another.  

As we, a community of faith, have experienced death so personally this year, be gentle with one another.  You may not understand how and why some of us are more tired, or more sad or more joy filled, or more hopeful or more distressed.  

So please, dear ones, be kind and gentle to one another. 

May the comfort Christ brings to us…be extended to one another…in presence, in weeping, and in love.  

As Christ is present with us now, let us be present for one another.  

And now may the peace, which surpasses all understanding keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, and let all God’s people shout, amen.  

---

[1] Not a direct quote, but this is how I heard her reflect on this text on the Working Preacher Podcast. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oe5wbbV4Cu8

[2] Working Preacher Podcast - Link in footnote above. 

Sunday's sermon - the shouty one.

October 24, 2021
22nd Sunday after Pentecost

Jeremiah 31:7-9
Psalm 126
Hebrews 7:23-28
Mark 10:46-52

Please pray with me,
May the words of my mouth and the mediations of all of our hearts be acceptable and suitable in your sight, O God, our rock, our strength and our redeemer.  Amen.  

In the book, A Prayer for Owen Meany, when the narrator is talking about his friend Owen, who is small for his size, and grew up in and around the granite mines in New Hampshire, he talks about his voice, which was strained…and every time Owen speaks in the book, his dialogue is always in all capital letters, it seems like he is always shouting….
When my grandmother, Omi, sent emails, it seemed like caps lock was always on….I felt like she was always shouting at me.  

HI JEN!
HOW ARE YOU?
I MISS YOU!

I LOVE YOU!

LOVE, OMI

There’s something about shouting that is sometimes jarring, like in the voice of Owen Meany or an email from your grandmother, but sometimes it's cathartic…and sometimes necessary.  

Yes…it’s the shouting, the crying out, that speaks to me today.  

For him to shout out to Jesus as he passes by….
For others to try to silence him, so much so that he shouts again….

Today’s story is in essence a simple one.  
But the layers of depth draw us in, in a way that I believe Jesus wants us to be drawn in.  

In the middle of many passages from Mark where the disciples are trying to understand Jesus presence and mission…and where they fit into it as well…we have this seemingly simple story of a blind man.  

Bartimaeus hears that Jesus is passing by so he shouts out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Many around him sternly tell him to be quiet….but it doesn’t work.  
After they attempt to silence him, he shouts out even more loudly, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”  

Jesus stops.  

And says call him here.  

Bartimaeus throws off his cloak…a small detail, but huge in importance…this cloak was his sleeping mat, his cover at night, a place during the day to receive the coins that would have been tossed in his direction to help him survive…it was the one possession that helped him with shelter, food, comfort….it was all that he had.  and in that moment of being called by Jesus he throws it off…oh if only the rich man we heard about weeks ago could have seen that…

And then Jesus asks the same question he has asked of his disciples…what do you want me to do for you….?  
What do you want me to do for you?  

I mean, those looking in at this situation would think, duh! he’s blind, he wants to be able to see!  

But Jesus, after hearing the man cry out, looks at him and asks, what do you want me to do for you?  

Let’s stop right here.  

And let’s put ourselves into this story…right now.  

How many of us…feel like we are sitting on the sidelines….or feel like we are not being heard so we shout out to Jesus…seriously….shout out to Jesus…and say, have mercy on me!  And not just say, we shout it out….have mercy on me!  

Because this is where I am this week.

I’m feeling it, friends.  

I’m feeling, what seems to be the weight of the world, and I think it’s beginning to show.  

Last week two people commented about how tired I looked…. 
I’m not sharing this for sympathy or even help, but to get it out there.   

That I’m at the point of shouting out to Jesus, HAVE MERCY ON ME! 

So that Jesus stops…
Acknowledges me…
And asks me, Pastor Jen, what is it you want me to do for you?  

Because the reality of being asked that question…I don’t even know what I would ask…
Is that strange?  Is that weird?  
I don’t want to be saved from this situation, or swept up from it, just seen, acknowledged and heard.  

Because as I hear the cries of the people in this place,
as we lament this pandemic,
a year plus of loss and grief,
the wonder of the future of the church in this place,
the recent deaths and funerals,
the desire to return to the familiar that we miss so deeply…yet the familiar in a new way.  

I want to ask all of you….what is it you want me to do?  
But I’m afraid to…
Because I’m afraid I cannot meet the needs.
I’m afraid you will want things…need things…have needs…that I am not able to meet, help, solve, cure, or fix.

I’m afraid I will not be able to be the pastor you want me to be or need me to be in this place.  

Maybe that’s why I’m truly afraid to ask this question, because my own inadequacies, short fallings, will be revealed…and you won’t want to see them, or I won’t want to see them….oh, it just gets messy….

So I shy away from opening up the door to vulnerability and welcoming you into this space with me….

But today’s gospel shakes me out of that space false security, or false safety, and pushes and pulls me into the space of Christ in community.  And the reality that we are all longing to be seen and heard as we cry out for mercy. and that only when we are able to do that do we truly find ourselves in a place and position to be seen and heard by Jesus…and maybe even healed of these infirmities.  

Today’s gospel calls me to say to you…
What is it you want me to do?  

Today’s gospel calls me to say to you….
What is to you want me to do?  

And as I ask that of you, I’m reminded, by Jesus, that I’m here to be present and to listen.  
I’m not here to answer all the questions, solve all the problems, complete all the tasks…but to create the space for you to say what it is you need…from your pastor…from this community of faith…from Jesus, right now.  

As scary as it is for me to ask this question….what is it you want me to do?, I ask it in the safety of this community, knowing that as I throw off my own cloak of protection and comfort, I am welcomed into a place of support, love, grace, forgiveness and love (worth mentioning twice)…that the cloak of Jesus, that replaces my own is far more comforting and healing then any covering I could try to wrap myself in.  

So, today, wrapped in the cloak of love and grace of Jesus…I ask you, 

What is it you want me to do?  

What is it you want of this community of faith?  

And most importantly, What is it you want Jesus to do for you?  
 
And now may the peace, which surpasses all understanding keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, and let all God’s people shout, AMEN.  

Sermon - Oct. 3, 2021

October 3, 2021
19th Sunday after Pentecost
Genesis 2:18-24
Psalm 8
Hebrews 1:1-4, 2:5-12
Mark 10:2-16

Please pray with me,

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts be acceptable and suitable in your sight, O God, our rock, our strength and our redeemer.  Amen. 

Well friends, here we are with another challenging gospel reading today.  Let me tell you, it’s a text I’ve heard many times before…and will probably hear many times again…and truth be told, it hits me differently every time. 

And part of me doesn’t even want to touch upon the topic of divorce, because really, all these times when the Pharisees ask Jesus a question, especially in public…it’s usually a trap!  Usually there is no right answer…and they pose a question to trick him into one answer or another. 

But, this passage is in our reading for today, so it is good for us to think about how it may impact each of us…individually and communally.   

When I first heard this this text as a pastor, I was serving a congregation in Indiana…and while I was the one freshly divorced, it was something we lived in and through together. 

The congregation loved me through that hard time.  The most overwhelming feeling I felt from the congregation was one of love and support, nurture, care and healing. 

Although, alongside that care or subtly placed underneath it were the comments of disappointment and the words, “Back in my day, you didn’t get divorced, you worked through it.”

That Sunday, in Indiana, we had visitors in worship…a couple new to our area.  As I talked about divorce and my experience with it, especially as a pastor, I couldn’t help but wonder what might be going through their minds. 

They introduced themselves on the way out and as they came back and we got to know each other better, they – both divorced themselves – knew they were in the right place because it was a hard topic that was being talked about in church. 

Between then and now, I’ve had the opportunity to engage in two faith building parts of ministry: confirmation and weddings. 

They’re connected, trust me. 

As part of the many weddings I’ve been honored to be the officiant at, I am thankful for the pre-marital counseling with the couple. 

It’s time for the three of us to be together and dig deeper into God’s relationship with us, their relationship with one another and how that relationship will change when they are married. 

I also love the part of the wedding ceremony itself after the couple share their intent to be married, when I get to invite everyone in attendance to be part of the ceremony, too. 

The wedding guests are asked, Will all of you, by God’s grace, uphold and care for _______ and _______ in their life together?  And those gathered say, WE DO!

I know that the vows of the marriage are made only by the couple, but those gathered to celebrate the day with them, they too, are part of the community that will uphold and care for them in their life together. 

I wonder if people would respond differently to wedding invitations, knowing the responsibility they individually held in the life of the married couple…?  Just curious, but I digress. 

Because it’s a serious commitment, right?  This community of faith, when we are part of a wedding celebration are tasked to uphold and care for this newly married couple not just on their wedding day – when they’ve shared a lavish feast and fun dance party.  We promise to love them through thick and thin into their future together. 

Good stuff.  God stuff.  Yet not always easy stuff. 

But it’s something we know that we must do, because we ourselves have been taught this.  That God loves each and every one of us and calls us to be in relationship with God and with one another. 

That’s why when it comes to confirmation and talking about the 6^th commandment – thou shall not commit adultery…we talk about it in all aspect of our relationships….and even more so…we frame that commandment in the words to ‘live faithfully’. 

Live faithfully…in your family, in your friendships, in your places of work, and in your dating, romantic relationships and in marriage. 

We are all called to live faithfully with one another. 

Lifting one another up.

Nurturing one another.

Caring for one another in sickness and in health.

Protecting one another.

Building a relationship and community that promotes honest conversations, treating one another with respect, not harming one another with violent words or actions, and supporting others in their relationships as well. 

That’s not new.  We know this is God’s call for each and every one of us. 

So, when we hear about Jesus being asked about divorce….no doubt our individual – or perhaps communal – hearts and minds think about someone we know, either in our own family units, or in this community of faith or our greater community – whose lives have been impacted by divorce. 

So, we all know the repercussions of divorce on some level.  Which is why it’s so important that we, especially as a community of faith, are faithful in our love and care of one another and the relationships we are all in. 

Yes, it means celebrating weddings (I’ll see you on the dance floor.)

It may mean sending anniversary cards. 

It may mean more in person interactions…like helping with child or pet care, or bringing meals when someone in the couple is sick, or getting together with other couples and families to build relationships so that when tough times happen (which they will) there is a safety net, and a reminder that couples/families are not alone when it comes to tough times. 

You all know how you nurture one another and care for each other’s families.  It’s holy and it’s God’s work and you’re doing it. 

But it may mean other things, too…like how we are also called to step up and step in when things are not right.   

We are called to be an additional set of eyes and ears to help guide hard conversations. 

If we see that something is, you know, off….with a couple, we should check in.  We should, because we promised to be there for them, remember? 

It’s hard to enter into the tough stuff…not knowing what the outcome will be, but we are called to help one another to live faithfully, and if others are struggling we are called to help them. To listen, to love, to help find additional resources to help with counseling, finances, or addictions.  To not judge, gossip or question…but to be present, to listen and to offer support in ways that are most needed. 

You all, are amazing people who are committed to loving and caring for one another…what would it look like for this community of faith to live that out as we care for those in our community who are struggling in their relationships. 

What if folks knew this was a place that wouldn’t judge, but would listen and love and care? 

Holy stuff, right? 

I think that’s what Jesus is trying to get back to at the end of our reading today.  After this talk of adultery and divorce, Jesus picks up a child – or many of the ones coming to him to be blessed…for it is such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. 

Here’s Jesus AGAIN, redirecting his disciples AND us to the most vulnerable, the least among us, the ones that need all the love and support. 

Jesus continually redirects us…from ourselves…and what we think is right or wrong, especially today when it comes to divorce, and turns us to see the kingdom of God here and now. 

You, my dear siblings in Christ, are part of an amazing community in this place and together we do hard and holy work. 

And so, I ask you, Will all of you, by God’s grace, uphold and care for the couples and families here - in their life together?  If so, say we do! 

And now may the peace, which surpasses all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, and let all God’s people say, amen.  

 

 

 

Nevertheless, she persisted* (aka Sunday's Sermon)

September 5, 2021
15th Sunday after Pentecost
Isaiah 35:4-7a
Psalm 146
James 2:1-10,[11-13] 14-17
Mark 7:24-37

Also referenced, Crowded Table by the Highwomen

Please pray with me,

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts be acceptable and suitable in your sight O God, our rock, our strength and our redeemer.  Amen.  

As I was praying and wrestling with the gospel lesson for today…and trying to fall asleep one night this week.  The lyrics to the song Crowded Table by the Highwomen popped into my head.  

I want a house with a crowded table

And a place by the fire for everyone

Let us take on the world while we're young and able

And bring us back together when the day is done.

I thought to myself, why this song?

Why now?  

Especially as I’m trying to fall asleep?  

But, the Holy Spirit has a funny way of nudging us, calling us and speaking to us often when we least expect it.  

I got to thinking about what speaks to me in this song….

It’s the crowded table.  

It’s the place by the fire (as maybe it cools down?) 

It’s the desire to take on the world, and yet the importance of being brought back together when the day is done.  

To which I thought, duh.  That’s church.  

Right?  

Gathering around a table…being fed with the body of Christ, the fellowship of one another, and being sent out into the world to tackle the issues, in justices, brokenness, illness, death, destruction…you name it…and then to come back together, again.  

And I think this song popped into my head because that is the church I’m longing for.  That, friends, is the church I miss…although it’s here… it is here.  When we gather in the sanctuary, outside or online, we are church, together.  But, I believe, we can be more church.  Crazy, right? Your pastor saying that church can be more church....here, let me explain, by talking about Jesus.  

In our gospel lesson today, Jesus is out and about, not in or on his native turf.  He may have been seeking space and solitude because of the work he had been doing, and he just needed a minute, you know what that’s like?  When you just need time and space alone…to sit, to pray, to be, to rest.  

And yet, the crowds find him, and in this crowd, a woman, a Gentile, even, and she begs him to heal her daughter.  

She comes to him, not deterred by his offhanded dismissal to say, look Jesus, you are here to teach and preach and heal…ALL of God’s people.  

And Jesus, still tired, still needing space (or a day off, whatever) is like, it’s not time, yet.  

Nevertheless, she persists.  

No, Jesus, she replies, now is the time.  Now is the day of salvation. 

Now is the time to move your mission beyond where you think it should go, to the expanse of all of God’s people, including my daughter, including me.  

I know, this is my own translation, but it’s this woman’s insistence and persistence and that actually pushes Jesus’ mission forward.  It’s her words and presence that helps Jesus to realize that his mission isn’t just for one group of people…it’s for all of God’s people…and the time for that mission to start?  Now.  

Now is the time for God’s love and grace to break into the world.

Now is the time for the love and forgiveness of Jesus to transform our hearts and our lives.  

Now is the time for the Spirit to blow into our midst bringing comfort to those in need, and pushing the comfortable out into the world.  

Now.  

I don’t need to tell you about the devastation around the world…the wars, the insurrections, the natural disasters that are impacting our world and our nation, the changes in laws that speak against civil liberties, the local flooding, tragic accidents, not to mention the overall tone of you can’t tell me what to do…I know what’s best….for me.  

It’s deeply heartbreaking. 

It’s, at times, too much to even take in.  

And so we need this place…

this congregation…

this community of faith…

To speak God’s words of love to us.

To speak Jesus’ words of forgiveness to us.

To hear the ways we may have been misguided so that we are better aligned with God’s call for us in the world.  

Which is a call of love and grace and forgiveness…

It’s a call of care and support and protection for the least among us.

It’s a call to speak out against injustices and untruths.  

It’s a call to be quite counter cultural, actually.  

In a climate that seems to tell us that it’s all about me….God’s call is way different. It’s one that calls us to persist in extending God’s table, welcoming the least among us so they may be safe and fed and nourished.  

Friends, this is a wicked hard time to be the church.  

It’s very hard to persistently preach a message of love and grace and forgiveness when the world is like love it or leave it.  

It’s a hard time to be church, as we have seen a change in attendance during a pandemic. 

It’s a hard time to be church when giving has steadily decreased over the past 5 months.  

It’s a hard time to be church when we just want to go back to the way things were…with the people who used to sit close to us in the sanctuary…it is far too easy to look back with longing as to who we were….because we were ‘happy’ then.  

As we find ourselves in a place of discomfort and uncertainty about the future it is far easier to look back with longing, rather than push forward into a new future.  

But the persistence, shown by the woman to Jesus today, reminds us, that we, too must be persistent.  

Crying out now…for God’s kingdom to come. 

Crying out now for the care of all of God’s kingdom.  

Crying out now to expand and extend God’s table…to everyone.  

So that we all might gather, again, around a crowded table…with a place for everyone.  

And we can do this friends…this church…the church of Christ, in the human form of Trinity Lutheran Church, can do this….we can be persistent about God’s love and grace and welcome to all. 

And how God's love and grace is continually and persistently guiding us, shaping us and calling us into the future.  

One final verse to share from the song Crowded Table…

If we want a garden

We're gonna have to sow the seed

Plant a little happiness

Let the roots run deep

If it's love that we give

Then it's love that we reap

If we want a garden

We're gonna have to sow the seed

We’re gonna have to do the work.  

Stay the course.

Plant happiness.

Preach forgiveness.  

Live out grace.

Love our neighbors.

Take action to protect and care for others. 

Be persistent in sharing the love of God.  

The love of God that we give….is the love of God this community and world will reap.  

We will have to continually, persistently, sow seeds of love, grace and forgiveness.  As we continue to reach out to those who are in need, to those who feel lonely, to welcome them here…to welcome them home.  

We can do this.  

By speaking kind words.  

By putting in place guidelines that will keep people safe here…and allow us to continue to gather - safely.  

By taking active steps to protect ourselves so that we are not a burden to our local healthcare system.  

By being opened…opened by love and healing touch of Jesus Christ to continue in and through the challenging and adventurous days ahead.   

Friends we are in the deep middle of a long journey…when it is far to easy to look back to what we have known than into the future that is much more uncertain….

But we can do this.  Together.  By the love of God, as the people of God, we can do this.  

And now may the peace, which surpasses all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus and let all God’s people say, amen.  

 *Sermon title inspired by Karoline Lewis and the woman in the Gospel lesson

You hungry?

August 1, 2021
10^th Sunday after Pentecost
 
Exodus 16:2-4, 9-15
Psalm 78:23-29
Ephesians 4:1-16
John 6:24-35

Please pray with me,

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts be acceptable and suitable in your sight, O God, our rock, our strength and our redeemer.  Amen. 

So, anyone hungry?  Here we are, another Sunday from the gospel of John, and more talk about bread.  And, if you weren’t hungry, now that I mentioned it…maybe you are a bit peckish.  You know, you could just use a little something…

Billy and I have had extensive conversations about food.  First of all, it’s because we love to eat and eat well and secondly because we are very aware as to how our eating habits stem directly from our individual families of origin.  How we approach food, it’s preparation and its consumption stems from how we were fed as children, which stems from our parents upbringing and their food experiences.  It’s all connected. 

I bet we could have a wonderfully enriching conversation with one another about our family histories and how they impact how we eat. 

Heck, we can even see it here at Trinity.  How food is the common denominator in so much of the ministries that happen through this congregation. 

But I would be missing the heart of the gospel lesson today, if I solely talked about food and the hunger we feel in our stomachs. 

Not that grumbling stomachs and hunger pangs are not real.  As I write this sermon, I can see the line of cars preparing for the monthly distribution from the Conrad Weiser Food Pantry.  Hunger is real…and it can be seen around the globe and in our own community. 

As real as it is, in today’s gospel, Jesus digs deeper and goes beyond physical hunger. 

He invites the crowds, and us, to examine a deeper hunger…and how that hunger can be fed. 

But, before we get there…maybe we need to think about and name those other hungers….

It’s more than just wanting a snack. 

Are you hungering for more wealth?

More status? 

A return to ‘normalcy’? Whatever that is. 

Are you hungry for a vacation? 

Are you hungry for some down time?

Are you hungry for time alone or time with friends? 

Are you hungry for a place to belong?

A place to be understood?

The opportunity to be seen and heard for you are and who God calls you to be? 

What are you hungry for? 

What are your deep hungers?  The ones that wake you up at night, or keep you from falling asleep, or drive you to work just one hour longer, or practice on that field one more time or to run one more lap or to practice that presentation one more time….

And beyond our individual hungers, we hunger as a community…again for that return to normalcy…or to the sanctuary…the way it used to be. 

We hunger for the end of a pandemic and peace around the world. 

Right now I may even dare to say that we hunger for gold at the Olympics.  So much so, that we place extreme pressure on the athletes that represent us…to bring home the gold…to be their very best because somehow, that will make everything better.  It will satisfy our national hunger. 

But it doesn’t.

And it won’t. 

Because this hunger of ours…as individuals, communities and nations cannot be satiated by medals or perfect 10 scores or a promotion at work, or a return to ‘your’ pew in the sanctuary. 

This hunger of ours is deeper than we realize and cannot be satiated with ‘things’ that we try to accomplish or accumulate. 

It’s not about the stuff. 

It never was. 

It’s about our deepest emotional needs, the ones that we wish to keep hidden from the world and yet at the same time it’s the ones that Jesus knows most intimately about each of us. 

Let me say that again.  Our deep, deep hungers, the ones that we wish to keep hidden from the world…are the ones that Jesus sees first when looking at us and the ones that Jesus know most intimately about us. 

And for me, personally, that is amazingly holy and at the same time deeply terrifying. 

Holy and terrifying. 

And here’s why…

It’s holy because Jesus looks at me and sees the amazing, beautiful child of God that I was created to be and am continually called to be. 

It’s terrifying because when seeing that image of myself, it scares me of who I am capable of being and becoming.  I focus on my shortcomings, my struggle with body image, my concern about my presence and voice in certain situations and my ability to be the child of God created me to be as I am a spouse, a pastor, a daughter, a role model, and a human being. 

And hear this, clearly, I am not sharing this for accolades or words of support, but truly because I believe that if I am feeling this and struggling with this…I cannot be alone in this. 

And this place, this community of faith, is the place I feel safest sharing this stuff. 

This community of faith is a place where we are called to love one another, despite our differences and struggles, actually, we are called to love one another because of those differences and struggles and to listen, and to encourage one other to be true, to be real, and to be honest with God and with one another about who are and who we are called to be. 

It’s hard work.

But it’s beautiful work. 

It’s holy work. 

And so this is where the rubber meets the road. 

The place, community, where we come with these deep, deep hunger pangs. 

We come to this place…acknowledging our deepest hungers…believing that Jesus will satisfy them. 

We come to this place living into the promise that Jesus will satisfy these hungers. 

And Jesus WILL satisfy them. 

Jesus will. 

As you come forward to receive the gift of God in Jesus this day…receive more than just bread and wine.  Receive the bread of life…that feeds our deepest hungers, because in this gift, Jesus sees us – I mean really sees us – and feeds the deepest hungers we’ve ever known. 

Jesus says to you, this day, “I am the bread of life.  Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never thirst.” 

Come eat and be filled.

With the love of God.

The grace of God.

The presence of God and the holy promise that in this bread and in this wine….we are fed and nourished…and embodied to live out the life and love of Christ this day and all days. 

And now may the peace, which surpasses all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus and let all God’s people say, amen.