Category Archives: Sermons

With the sight of a mother

Sermon Recap from February 4, 2024

Scripture, John 2:1-11, Mary attends a wedding that runs out of wine.

I grew up going to weddings. My parents were a part of a friend group that included five couples who had 15 kids. My older brother was the youngest of the group and then six years later I was born. When the kids were still kids the parents made a pact to go to every wedding—no matter when or where it was.

Fast forward to me from age 10-17 and there were a bunch of weddings to go to. And they were all a blast. There were road trips, hotels, pools, parties, food, dancing. I remember learning how to two-step at a wedding in Decorah, Iowa. I remember the moms dancing on the table in Milwaukee. I remember the dads dancing to YMCA. Weddings shaped my childhood with fun, celebration, and family. And I remember standing up at my brother’s wedding when I was 17 and sharing the “best man’s toast.”

I wrote about a ten-minute speech. It made people laugh and cry. Afterwards so many people told me it was the best toast they had ever heard. It was a formative moment in my life—when I no longer thought of myself as a kid, but as an adult with something to say.

Did Jesus feel the same way about the wedding he attended at Cana? In the Gospel of John this become his first public sign—the first act that revealed who he was to the world. After an enigmatic exchange with his mother, he turns water into wine. It was his “coming out,” and yet he seemed reluctant at first.

It was his mother who told him “They don’t have any wine.” While Jesus resists at first, he then goes into action, restoring the celebration with wine. Not only wine, but excellent wine, and a LOT of good wine (one commentator I read translated the amount into 1000 bottles). Jesus’ first act is one that continues the celebration. “On the third day,” John says, Jesus makes sure that the wedding party will continue.

This is what “grace upon grace” looks like. It is not a stodgy, judgmental, rule-following grace. Jesus brings a celebratory, two-stepping, dancing on the table, singing “YMCA” kind of grace.

Jesus begins his ministry because his mother knows he can. She sees something in him—like my mother who saw my writing as valuable—like my family who were astronished at my first speech. Jesus’ mother knew something. She knew the time was right, even if Jesus didn’t.

So I want to tell you—tell people they are remarkable. Tell all the people in your life (but especially the young people) what you know they can do. Tell them the time is right, even if they don’t believe you at first. Be like Mary, who understood what Jesus could do even when no one else did.

Celebrate with them. Give them joy. Give them a chance to shine. Show them grace upon grace so they can live into who God created them to be. Jesus came to bring life—even life abundant. A life with Christ empowers people to step boldly into their true self. And if you get a chance, thank the Marys in your life who got you started.

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Jesus, Mary, and the Generation Gap

Recap of sermon from January 28, 2024

Scripture: Luke 2:41-52, Mary loses Jesus in the Temple

“Kids these days,” has lamented every generation. Ever. The famous song from Bye Bye Birdie goes, “Kids! I don’t know what’s wrong with these kids today! Kids! Who can understand anything they say? Kids! They a disobedient, disrespectful oafs! Noisy, crazy, dirty, lazy, loafers!”

This classic song joins the unending chorus of adults blaming kids and kids not trusting adults. Every generation has always considered younger generations as responsible for the downfall of society, the breakdown of polite culture, and loss of respect. HistoryHustle.com has an article called “The 2,500-Year-Old History of Adults Blaming the Younger Generation” that includes quotes through decades and centuries about the downfall of society

There is nothing that makes me feel older and more out of touch with a younger generation than the popularity of Twitch and E-Sports. If you don’t know what Twitch is, then you’re even more out of touch than me. E-Sports and Twitch both involve people watching other people play video games. Colleges now have E-Sports teams and are building E-Sports stadiums. Network broadcasts of video game basketball and other popular video games have higher ratings than actual NBA games. Being a professional video gamer is a viable option. Twitch star Tyler Blyvens, aka Ninja, is worth upwards of $40 million.

This growing industry is something that I simply do not understand. I loved playing video games as a kid, but I do not understand the desire to sit and watch someone else play Halo, or Call of Duty, or even Madden Football. Yet while I may not understand it, I do not have to ridicule it. I understand it is a passion among many young people, and while I do not have the desire to cheer on my alma mater in an E-Sports battle, I do not see the rise of E-Sports as the downfall of society, as some of my fellow Gen-Xers and Boomers feel that it is.

In the famous story of Mary losing Jesus on their way home from Passover, we have a wonderfully human exchange between mother and son. “Why have you treated us this way? Your father and I were worried?” Has there ever been a parent that did not say or think this about their child at some point? After Jesus responds, the Scripture tells us that “They didn’t understand him.” And then explains, “Mary cherished every word in her heart.”

For parents who don’t understand their kids, and for adults who don’t understand young people, you are in good company. Misunderstanding between parent and child is probably as old as parents and children (I don’t think Adam and Eve had a good grasp on what was happening between Cain and Abel, either).

Mary didn’t understand Jesus when he was 12. When she said, “Child, why do you treat us this way? We’ve been worried,” she could have been any parent, ever. I don’t always get it. I don’t always understand younger people. But not understanding is not the same as ridiculing. Too many adults who once sang along to The Who’s “My Generation” are now singing Bye Bye Birdie’s “Kids These Days.”

I don’t always get it, and sometimes that hurts. Sometimes that’s scary. Scripture tells us that Mary didn’t understand, but that she “cherished these things in her heart.” So we may not always “get” young people, but we can cherish them. Hey kids, I may not always get it, but I cherish you, and I’m sorry for the times I forget that. I may not always understand you, but I will always cherish you.

As Christians, we may not always understand what is happening or what Christ wants of us, but somehow Christ finds us anyway. This does not mean we stop trying to understand, it means that if we should keep searching. Keep questioning. Keep listening. Cherish the journey. Cherish the relationships that we make along the way. While we are looking, worried and anxious, we will end up finding the grace we needed all along.

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The Grandmothers: Bathsheba

Part four in this four part series on the women in Jesus’ genealogy 

Bathsheba was a survivor. Her story is told in two distinct and independent passages. In the first, which we share today, she is a voiceless victim of King David. The second comes in the first two chapters of 1 Kings, when David is near death. In this passage, she is a clever strategist who ensures her son Solomon becomes David’s heir.

The difference in Bathsheba in these two passages is striking, which has led commentators for centuries to describe her in one-dimensional either/or terms. Either she is a plotting seductress or she is a naïve patsy.

As Baylor University scholar Brent Nesler wrote, “If Bathsheba is interpreted as intelligent and resourceful in 1 Kings 1–2, she is thereby assumed to be slyly complicit with the king in 2 Sam 11. If Bathsheba is interpreted as naïve in 2 Sam 11, she is assumed to be oblivious to the machinations of men in 1 Kings 1–2” (Journal of Biblical Literature, 142, no. 1, p. 91-109).

In the story we shared today from 2 Samuel, Bathsheba falls victim to King David. The first sentence of the passage tells us all we need to know about David. “In the spring, when Kings go off to war, King David sent… his servants.” Kings are supposed to lead the people to war, instead he sent others off. His power has already corrupted him. When he sends for her, she has no agency to say no. Some have argued that the phrase “When she came to him,” implies her consent, and paint her bathing seductively to entice him.

This is utter nonsense. A little later in the story, David calls for Uriah, Bathsheba’s husband. The Scripture uses the same phrase as before: “When Uriah came to him.” This doesn’t imply Uriah’s consent, it reflects the fact that when a King asks someone to come to him, they come. Or die. Another important fact of the story is that Bathsheba’s actions are never condemned. David is the one that faces the punishment of God. It is David that the prophet Nathan calls out. Bathsheba, in the first story, is a voiceless victim.

Yet something changes in her. The next time we find her, the nation is on the verge of civil war. David’s different sons are vying for the crown. In fact, another has declared himself King. David, old, and mired in inaction, is about to let his kingdom crumble into chaos. Instead Bathsheba emerges with Nathan. The two make sure that David names Bathsheba’s son, Solomon, as the heir.

The stability of the nation is saved. Bathsheba is saved. Solomon becomes king and goes on to build the Temple (with his own set of pitfalls and failures).

Bathsheba is neither a foul temptress or a voiceless patsy. Instead, I propose something more complex happened with Bathsheba. When reading her story through the lens of trauma recovery, something wonderful is revealed: She healed.

She is a victim of abuse who survived, healed, found her strength, and asserts her control and self-determination. Bathsheba, the last grandmother mentioned (but strangely not named) in Matthew 1, is a survivor. She falls prey to powerful men, but rises up and finds her strength.

Bathsheba, when understood properly, is a model for so many women who have been traumatized. We don’t get to hear enough of her story, but she is remembered by Matthew. She is an important part of the line that brought us not only the Temple, but Jesus himself.

These are Jesus’ remarkable grandmothers: Tamar the persistent widow, Rahab the Canaanite strategist, Ruth the loyal and courageous friend, and Bathsheba the one who rose up. Their stories must be told and retold. All of them Gentiles, reflect that Jesus came from the world to save the world. He came from strength to reveal God’s strength. It is a strength forged in courage, loyalty, faithfulness, and love; not violence, coercion, or fear.

Jesus was born on Christmas as the Word of God made flesh. He was born to a woman and a man who adopted him as his own. He was born as a part of a long line of survivors. He was born into a long story of God and God’s people who were both flawed and righteous. He was born to save the world though love.

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The Grandmothers: Ruth

Part three in this four part series on the women in Jesus’ genealogy

According to some ratings statistics, the Hallmark Channel has been the top entertainment network on basic cable in the fourth quarter of the year for several years. They are not the top network the other three quarters of the year. The difference? Hallmark knows Christmas.

The Hallmark Channel website claims that they have a new original movie every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night starting on October 20. That’s 31 new original movies. Well, original might be a stretch. Everyone knows that these movies are all basically the same story. And we’re all okay with it.

The fact that they are full of cliché, trite story lines, predictable plot points, and catalog-model attractive actors, is why we watch. We know what to expect. Like a big platter of Christmas fudge and hot chocolate, there’s not much sustenance, but it feels good to consume.

The Book of Ruth could be read critically. We could question the agency of Ruth. We could wonder about Naomi’s motivations. We could ask what “uncovered his feet” means. We could ask Boaz why he apparently allowed his men to assault other women in his fields. We could lament that the child born to Ruth is called “Naomi’s.” We can bring up issues of trafficking, abuse, patriarchy, and exploitation. These are all worthy questions of the text, and I’m thankful for scholars like Wilda C. Gafney who challenge these kinds of texts—but right now, as I ponder the Grandmothers, I’d rather see the story of Ruth as a Hallmark Christmas Movie.

Let’s plug in the characters. A hard-working woman (Ruth)who has experienced grief and a lot of bad luck. She has a dear friend (Naomi) who is older and wiser, but their bond is secure. New in town, the woman gets a job for a man of integrity (Boaz). He makes sure she is safe and shows he cares about her with little gifts and benefits. Eventually, the older friend arranges a romantic setting for Ruth and Boaz to take the next step in their relationship. They fall for each other, but they have to conquer one more obstacle (the unnamed redeemer). In the end, Boaz and Ruth marry, have a child, and Naomi joins their household. They live happily ever after as the snow falls in town square and the Christmas lights twinkle.

This could honestly be the next Hallmark movie, but there’s one more character who isn’t named in the story. He casts a pall over the entire story, revealed not by any character, but by how Ruth is described.

Over and over she is called Ruth the Moabite. The reader cannot forget where Ruth came from. Like all the women in this Advent sermon series, she is called righteous. Her integrity, friendship, courage, and loyalty leads to the joyful climax of the story—King David is her great-grandson. The righteousness of the Moabite wife leads directly to the birth of King David.

And this stands in direct tension with the other unnamed character—Ezra. The work of Ezra-Nehemiah was probably written at about the same time as Ruth. Though the story of Ruth takes place far before Ezra, they stand as contemporary voices from post-exilic Judah. As the exile ends and the people return to Judah from Babylon, they have a problem. How to rebuild? How do they put life back together. Some have been there in Judah the entire time.

Ezra-Nehemiah poses the twin projects of rebuilding the city wall and the Temple. They are also adamant that the only way to restore the people to their former greatness is to close ranks, stick to their own, and be pure. Among these purity laws is the ban of marrying outside of Israel. Moabites are among the groups specifically named to avoid.

Ezra-Nehemiah and Ruth pose competing understandings of how to move forwards as a people. Ezra-Nehemiah reminds the people of the Law, the rules they must follow, the duty they have to worship, and to protect themselves. Ruth tells a story of love, friendship, and embracing “the other.”

Ruth is more than an a Hallmark Movie. The story is a reminder that when people are in relationship, walls are broken down. Divisions that we put up to protect ourselves crumble. Relating to outsiders is a more fruitful way to be a people of God. “The other” will always be among us. Ezra-Nehemiah thought the answer was to avoid and isolate. Ruth comes back saying love and embrace.

When the writer of the Gospel of Matthew decided to tell the story of the savior of the world, he reminded us of the women that made it possible. He reminded us of Ruth the Moabite. He reminded us of a Hallmark-worthy story of friendship, courage, loyalty, and love. He reminded us that the path to the Kingdom runs through a love story. It seems appropriate that Jesus, the one who told his disciples to “make disciples of all nations,” had a Moabite Grandmother.

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The Grandmothers: Rahab

Part two of four in this Advent series on the women of Jesus’ genealogy.

“Rahab the prostitute” is named twice in the New Testament as a model of faith in action. Both James 2:25 and Hebrews 11:31 praise her and cite her as an example of someone who should be honored. She is named in Matthew 1:5 as one of the mothers in Jesus’ genealogy.

Rahab’s inn seemed to serve as a part of the wall that surrounded Jericho (this was a common way to build ancient cities, with the “wall” being a combination of large buildings and walls forming the perimeter of the city). She received Israelite spies who were sent by Joshua to learn about the city’s defenses. This was the first stage of the Israelite’s occupation of the “Promised Land”

Rahab’s actions are incredible in this brief story. It can be argued that she manipulates three parties, all of whom are much more powerful than her. First, she manipulates the Jericho guard. When they confront her, she sends them on a wild goose chase to find the Israeli spies. Second, she manipulates the spies themselves, keeping them relatively safe but still in a precarious spot when she negotiates for the lives of her and her family. Last, she manipulates God’s plan.

The Exodus tradition is clear about how the Israelites should occupy the land. “I will hand over to you the inhabitants of the land, and you shall drive them out before you. You shall make no covenant with them and their gods.” (Exodus 23:32). Yet Rahab’s story continues in Joshua 6:25 “Joshua let Rahab live, her family, and everyone related to her. So her family still lives among Israel today.”

In other words, Joshua made an agreement with a Canaanite, in direct opposition to God’s decree in Exodus, and this agreement helped lead the Israelites to victory. From the very first battle in the occupation, there were Canaanites who were spared. The agreement between Rahab’s family and the Israelites allowed them both to prosper.

This reveals a deeper tension that is found throughout the Hebrew Bible. There are elements of Scripture that suggest that the Israelites must be pure. They must take total control of the Land and completely destroy all of their enemies. There are truly disturbing calls for genocide found in the stories of occupation. These flow from the promises made to Abraham that are eternal. The covenant of the Land is described as unwavering and pure. The Land belongs to Israel. Period.

But Deuteronomy provides the giant “If.” The ‘if’ is found many places, but is pronounced In the final speech of Deuteronomy. “Now if you really obey the Lord your God’s voice, by carefully keeping his commandments… then the Lord your God will set you high above all nations” (Deut. 28:1). “But if you don’t obey the Lord your God’s voice by carefully doing all his commandments and his regulations… all these curses will com upon you” (Deut. 28:15).

The promises made to Abraham were made for a purpose. Five times in Genesis it is repeated that Abraham is blessed for a reason: to be a blessing  to all (Gen 12:3, 18:18, 22:18, 26:4, 28:14). Deuteronomy backs up this claim, if Abraham ceases to be a blessing to all, then the promises made will turn to curses.

This is an element of the Biblical story that many ignore. As people of God, our unwavering support should be on the side of justice and peace. Drawing direct lines from the Biblical story to modern national politics and wars is a always a fraught endeavor. Within the Bible is a strong tension between isolation from and care for “the other.”

There should be a tension in all of our convictions about what is happening right now in Gaza. Multiple things can be true. Israeli people should feel safe. We grieve the 1,200 deaths and reprehensible violence that occurred on October 7. Palestinian people and children should not be collateral damage, even in the pursuit of terrorists and militants. We grieve the 18,000 Palestinian deaths and the rising humanitarian crisis in Gaza. Hostages should be released. Aid should be given. A path to a just cease-fire must be found.

Antisemitic violence against Jewish people is evil and the rise of it is disturbing. Holocaust-denial is on the rise and needs to end. Islamophobic violence against Muslims is evil and the rise of it is disturbing. The rhetoric and actions of Hamas is deplorable and cannot be justified. The apartheid policies of Israel in Gaza should be challenged and criticized. The death of innocent Israeli and Palestinian people should end. The self-determination of Israeli and Palestinian people should be protected. These should not be seen as political, partisan, or even controversial statements.

I do not have the expertise to untangle the problems in Israel/Palestine, but our Biblical story doesn’t support sweeping generalizations or unwavering support for anything but peace and justice. Rahab the Canaanite saved the Israelites in a city in what is now known as the West Bank and her family lived with them in peace.  There is an Advent hope that a Jewish boy born in a West Bank town called Bethlehem could be the Prince of Peace.

A Pulpit Fiction interview with Walter Brueggemann

A thoughtful piece about avoiding antisemitism by ReformJudaism.org

Jews for Peace is a progressive Jewish voice for peace

Opinion piece from The Forward, an independent Jewish news source that both calls out both Hamas for the terrorism it has inflicted and the government of Israel for mistakes it has made. An excerpt: “Tunnel warfare is dirty, complicated, costly and requires lengthy efforts and campaigns, not the short and swift operations upon which Israel’s military doctrine is built. Rather than weakening Hamas, which is underground, the current Israeli military operation in the strip is killing supporters and opponents of the group alike, inflaming the region, exacerbating anti-Israel sentiments worldwide, silencing political opposition to Hamas inside Gaza, complicating efforts at normalizing relations with Arab countries and achieving precisely what the group wanted in the first place: to reinvigorate the Palestinian cause and force Israel to act in a manner that in essence proves Hamas’ claims.”

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The Grandmothers: Tamar

Part one of four in this Advent series on the women of Jesus’ genealogy.

This Advent I will take four weeks to write about the grandmothers of Jesus. These are the women who were named in the genealogy of Jesus in the first chapter of Matthew. These four women were all either explicitly Gentile or connected intimately connected to Gentiles. Tamar’s father was from a Canaanite city. Rahab was a Canaanite living in Jericho. Ruth was called “Ruth the Moabite,” and Bathsheba was married to “Uriah the Hittite.”

They also all had sordid scandal connected to them. They were all victims of a patriarchal system that valued them more for their womb or sexuality than for their own agency, but they all survived. They all refused to be subjugated, and all four were called “righteous.” History, commentators, and “the religious,” have tried to defile their name. They have been called sinners, adulterers, and harlots, Scripture calls them righteous, and Matthew named them up for a reason.

We will remember the grandmothers of Jesus. We will remember their persistence, their cunning, their loyalty, and their courage. As we prepare for the coming of Jesus, we will remember those who prepared the way for him to come for us.

Tamar, Genesis 38:1-30

The Pharisees asked Jesus when God’s Kingdom would come. He told them a few parables, including one about a poor widow who was denied justice, but persisted in pestering the judge until he granted her justice. Perhaps Jesus was thinking of his Grandmother Tamar while he told the parable of the persistent widow (Luke 18:1-8).

He must have known her story, and that she was the mother of Perez, whose line continued to King David and of course, to Joseph (Matthew 1). Tamar’s story is not one that is told much these days. It comes in the middle of the more well-known story of Joseph and brothers. Wedged in between Judah and his brothers selling Joseph to traders on their way to Egypt, and Joseph gaining favor with Potiphar before getting entrapped by his wife, we get the story of Judah and Tamar.

It is a story with the cringe-factor turned up to 10. It is disturbing on many levels. For one, we are reminded that women’s agency was extremely limited. We are dealing with a patriarchal society where women were extremely vulnerable. Yet through the difficult circumstances, Tamar’s cunning and persistence brings her the justice she deserves.

Judah’s oldest son marries Tamar, but he dies. To fulfill the levirate law (Deuteronomy 25:5-10) she must marry Judah’s second son. This is so that Tamar may live within the clan and get the protection that is due her. It is also to ensure that she may bear a son to “carry on” her husbands line. Onan, her second husband, realizes that giving his brother an heir would mean that his inheritance would be reduced to a third of Judah’s estate instead of half. So he “spills his seed,” (thus giving rise to the “Sin of Onan”) so that his inheritance will not be further divided. As punishment of this evil deed, God strikes Onan down.

Now only one son remains, Shelah, but he is too young to marry. Judah then sends Tamar back to her home to wait until Shelah is of age. After some years pass, Shelah is old enough, and Tamar has not been recalled by Judah (he thinks she is cursed), so she plots her course. When Judah comes to her home town, she puts her plan into action.

She poses as a prostitute at the gate. He takes the bait and sleeps with her. As a deposit for payment she asks for his seal, cord, and staff (all of which would be unique to Judah. This is the ancient equivalent of leaving your ID for a bar tab).

Eventually Judah hears through the grapevine that his daughter-in-law Tamar is a prostitute, and she is pregnant. He cannot bear this shame upon his name, and decides to have her killed. Then she tells him, “I’m pregnant by the man who owns these things.” When he realizes what has happened, he declares “She is more righteous than I.”

It is a crazy story, to say the least. And lest you think, “well, it’s really old, it was a different time,” you should know, it was shocking then, too. And that is the point. Tamar is never judged for her action. In fact, she is deemed righteous. She was denied the justice that she deserved—that Torah demanded. In a patriarchal system that kept women in a perpetually vulnerable state, it was Judah’s duty to protect her. When he failed, she did what she had to do.

Scholars and commentators have not been kind to Tamar. She has been called a sinner, and her inclusion in Jesus’ genealogy a sign that he could redeem even a sinner such as her. Yet neither God nor anyone else in Scripture calls her a sinner. Perhaps our puritanical sexual ethic must be re-thought. Tamar – despite posing as a prostitute and having sex with her father-in-law, is called righteous. She is the original persistent widow who demands—and receives—justice.

That the Torah includes this interlude in the Joseph story suggests that she saved not only herself but helped the development of Judah. Here, he is able to see Tamar in a new light and grow from his mistake. This is a story of Judah’s growth and development. Remember he is the brother who sold Joseph into slavery, but later he is the one who puts his life on the line for Benjamin.

That Matthew includes Tamar in the genealogy of Jesus suggests that she is a part of Jesus’ life, ministry, and legacy. Jesus, the one who criticized the religious for “devouring widow’s homes,” who raised the widow’s son, and told a story of a persistent widow, probably remembered the story of Grandma Tamar.

We should remember her, too. Remember her predicament—the product of a patriarchal system. We should remember her persistence and her triumph. We should remember our grandmothers who overcame patriarchal systems that still exist. Tamar’s cunning and persistence is an important step in the line of Christ. We can honor her by remembering the women who continue to preach, pastor, prophecy, advocate, and work for justice.

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Pentecost and hope yet unseen

IGRC for Unity Devotional: 5/28/2023

Scripture: Acts 2:1-4; Romans 8:18-31

On this Pentecost Sunday, the Narrative Lectionary gives us the regular Acts 2 story, but combines it with a part of Paul’s letter to the Romans. Romans 8:28 always brings me back in time – to circa 2002 and the very first sermon I preached. I was hired at age 24ish to be youth director at Mackinaw UMC by Rev. Dan Powers.

One Sunday early in my tenure there, I was given a chance to preach. Being 24ish, I picked “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (NIV) as my text.

I don’t remember much about that sermon, but two things stand out. The first are the words of encouragement Rev. Dan (he’ll always be Reverend Dan to me) gave me afterwards. “You really picked a tough one,” he told me without an ounce of sarcasm or incredulity at my hubris for trying to tackle the age-old problem of theodicy in my very first sermon. It was good enough that he asked me to preach again and again, and eventually guided me in my candidacy and helped lead me to seminary. I’ll be forever grateful to him for the patience and guiding care he gave me in my two years at Mackinaw UMC.

The second thing I remember is the face of my Mom after I was done. My Mom was the one who first planted the seed of my call into my heart when I was a teenager. I’ll never forget the look on her face when she saw me living into the role she had seen for me years before.

My relationship with this verse however, has evolved over the years. Twenty years later I do not think I could summarize my view of “all things happening for good” as succinctly or as confidently as I did that day in Mackinaw. I know a deeper sense of loss, of frustration, and grief than I did that day. I’m not saying I have felt great suffering, but I have questioned many times the goodness of all things. I am more acquainted with lament today than I was then.

15 years after that sermon in Mackinaw, I sat beside my mother as she was dying with cancer gripping her brain. At that bedside I experienced the verse that comes a few before v. 28, “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness, for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with groanings too deep for words.” (Romans 8:26, NRSV).

Paul reminds the Romans that suffering is a part of life. Indeed, for those who follow Christ, it should be an expected part of life. Not because God wills suffering on the faithful, but because the world will pour out suffering on those who follow Christ. And God will pour out grace to overcome it all. The way of Christ is a way of love, patience, generosity, forgiveness, and justice. This way is often met with fear and reprisal. In fact, Paul’s message of the Cross is that love will suffer these things. The Cross is a reminder that love will bear these things for the sake of love, even in the midst of suffering.

God doesn’t give us suffering, but the Cross is a reminder that Jesus endured suffering for the sake of love, and resurrection is a reminder that love wins. Christ crucified and Christ resurrected reveals God can transform the worst suffering the world can dole out.

It is the Holy Spirit that raised Christ from the dead. It is the Holy Spirit that blew through an upper room in Jerusalem and swept the disciples out in the public square to testify to the Risen One. It is the Holy Spirit the empowered those disciples with visions and dreams and words of prophecy and love. It was the Holy Spirit that gave Paul confidence to hope for what is to come despite all worldly evidence that said he should fear.

It was the Holy Spirit that swept over me this past Sunday as I laid my hands on my nephew being confirmed in a Lutheran Church near my hometown. I heard my Mother’s voice as we sang her favorite hymn. I saw my mother’s face look down upon Luke in the same way she looked upon me that day in Mackinaw. I felt the Holy Spirit which gives me hope for things yet unseen.

It is the Holy Spirit that is sweeping through churches still. When the world is swept up in anger and violence. When wayward teens looking for directions are greeted at porches with guns. When nations are invaded by despots. When rainbow stickers on Target trigger anger and threats, the Holy Spirit speaks prayers of groaning too deep for words. The world experiencing labor pains, but the joy of the Kingdom is coming. The suffering we endure will be transformed.

The Holy Spirit, which raised Christ from the dead, will raise this Church up too. When the wind of the Holy Spirit sweeps through our sanctuaries and pushes us out into the world in desperate need of love and grace. When the Holy Spirit reconciles the Church to the ones who have been harmed by dogma. When the Holy Spirit gives us the confidence we need to stand strong for justice and compassion. When we recognize the power of the Holy Spirit working in the lives of all people. When the Holy Spirit fills all people with the power of love instead of the love of power, we will know peace. We will know Resurrection. May the winds of the Holy Spirit blow.

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Two Easter stories

Matthew 28:1-15

They say this is the golden age of television. The streaming services, hungry for content, have empowered new story tellers to tell incredible stories. The stories being told are incredibly entertaining. They wrestle with true emotion, blend lines between comedy and drama, create fantastic new worlds, and reveal truths about society, masculinity, racism, inclusion, and emotional intelligence. There are so many new, incredible stories being told and so many ways to watch them it can be overwhelming.

Thank God for the “Previously On…” feature. We can jump from show to show and get caught up real quick on what’s going on. The “previously on” segment usually gives clues about what is coming in the show at hand. There are often so many story lines and threads running through a show, the “previously on” can give us a reminder, “oh yeah, I remember that guy” or “oh, so they did meet at that one party.”

On Easter, we might need a “previously on.” Especially if we left off at the Triumphal Entry. The fact is, a lot happened during the week. We may need a summary reminder of all that is happening, because Good Friday was a heck of a cliff-hanger. The season ended with Jesus dead and sealed in a tomb. But Matthew gives us one little detail that we could easily miss (and is unique to Matthew).

Matthew 27:62-66 would be easy to miss, but consider this your “previously on” reminder. The powerful men that had Jesus killed were scared. They were afraid that they had just made a martyr, and that his violent and shameful death wouldn’t be enough to erase him like they wanted. So they went to Pilate and asked for a guard. They asked for a guard because they had been listening. “He told his followers that he would rise, so let’s make sure we have guards there.”

They put armed guards at the tomb to make sure Jesus’ disciples didn’t come, steal the body, and spread crazy rumors about resurrection (and just in case he did actually rise, they would be there to kill him again).

Then, very early on the first day of the week something happened. The women showed up. It is commonly understood that the women came to anoint the body. This is the story in Mark and Luke. In Matthew however, they did not bring in oils or spices. Jesus had already been anointed – back in 26:6-13 (and perhaps it was one of these women who did it). Maybe, instead of showing up to anoint a dead body, they were showing up because they believed what he had told them so many times. Perhaps the women were there for the same reason the guards were – because they remembered that Jesus said he would be raised. And then…

The earth quaked. Lightning flashed. And angel of the LORD appeared, and the guards were paralyzed with fear. The women however, were faithful. They heard the words of the angel and believed. They knew that Jesus was risen and they went to tell. Then on the way back to the disciples, they knew completely. Christ had risen. He was risen indeed, and the greatest story ever told had reached its series finale.

The stories we well entertain us, but the stories we believe shape us. When we believe stories of justice, we make be inspired to work for justice. When we believe stories of hope, we may hold onto hope when it seems to be gone. When we believe stories of new life, we may know new life. When we believe in the Kingdom of Heaven, we may live in the Kingdom of Heaven.

Matthew tells us that Jesus rose, and he also told us that two stories emerged that day. Two stories were born on Easter morning. One story was the one the guards told. Paralyzed by fear, paid off by the powerful who wanted to end the Christ story, they told a story of death. They told a story of grave robbers and lies.

The women told another story.

And both stories remain to this day. The story of Empire is still told. It is a story of exploitation disguised as liberty, prejudice disguised as holiness, destructive conspiracy disguised as truth telling, and money buying power disguised as care for the poor. The story of Empire is thriving. Its aim is to paralyze with fear and incite mobs to release Barabas. Its aim is to mock those who wish to stay awake in the garden of Gethsemane. Its aim is convincing people that everyone who disagrees is an enemy, and that opposition is demonic. Its aim is to keep peace at all costs, but their peace is not a peace of Christ. It is not a peace won by justice or love. It is a peace won by the sword. It is a peace won by dominance and fear. The Roman guards told a story of lies that Matthew says persists to this very day. They told a story that said “Jesus is dead.”

But the story of the women persists as well. The women told a story of a different kind of Kingdom. The women told the story of the Peace of Christ that ends not at the Cross but at an empty tomb. The women told the story of an earth-shattering new reality. They told the story of worship and adoration. They told the story that the Kingdom of Heaven was at hand. They told the story that “Jesus is risen!”

The stories we tell may entertain us, but the stories we believe shape us.

Which story will we believe?

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Jesus forgave them from the cross, but didn’t come back to hang out with them.

Forgiveness is at the heart of Christianity and is an important theme in the Gospel of Luke, in particular. In this passage we have the famous line, “Father forgive them, for they know now what they do.” It is statement that is unique to Luke’s story, and it is emblematic of Jesus’ entire ministry. That words of forgiveness were on his lips as he breathed his last are fitting.

Looking backward and forward you see that forgiveness is a part of the message. Even before Jesus was born, John the Baptist was preaching about forgiveness. After the resurrection, Jesus’ last command before his ascension is for the disciples to bring the word of forgiveness to the world.

Forgiveness is an integral part of the Kingdom of God. That Jesus himself forgave others was a part of why he was even on the Cross. The tensions between him and the religious leadership began when Jesus started to forgive sins.  In chapters five and seven, Jesus heals someone in front of the religious leadership. They are not upset with his healing, but they grumble when he claims to forgive their sins.

In the prayer Jesus taught us, our own forgiveness seems linked to the forgiveness we offer to others (that was always my least favorite part of the Lord’s Prayer). Forgiveness, both receiving and offering, is an important part of the Christian faith.

Modern psychologists and social scientists agree. Forgiveness is an important part of a healthy life. Many studies have been done to show that forgiveness leads to greater health outcomes—both physical and mental. Forgiveness is an act of tearing down boundaries. Sin can be seen as something that destroys relationship. It puts obstacles between people and between people and God. Forgiveness is the act of tearing down those obstacles and restoring right relationship. Forgiveness is the path toward shalom.

God’s shalom is the origin of all creation. Shalom has been lost, but restoring Shalom is the purpose of Jesus’ life, ministry, death, and resurrection.

Yet rushing into forgiveness is not true forgiveness. One cannot get to forgiveness without first processing pain, experiencing anger, and allowing time and space for forgiveness to take root. Forgiveness cannot be forced upon anyone. Forgiveness is not the same as acting nice for propriety’s sake. Forgiveness is not about making everyone get along so that we can have a picture of a happy family for the Christmas card.

Forgiveness is about returning to yourself. It is about getting past barriers of pain, fear, resentment. Forgiveness restores our hearts, but it does not always lead to restored relationship. Jesus forgave those that mocked him while he was on the Cross, but when he came back on Sunday morning, he didn’t hang out with them. He broke bread with his disciples in Emmaus, not with the leaders and soldiers who mocked him. He forgave those who hurt him, but he didn’t come back to them. Dr. Thema Bryant first pointed this out to me at a lecture I attended, and it hit home.

Jesus forgave those that mocked him. It was an incredible act of grace in the midst of his pain and suffering. He looked down at those who had hung him on that tree, felt compassion through all of the pain and suffering, and forgave them. It is a powerful moment in the Gospel of Luke and should never be overlooked. But as Dr. Bryant pointed out to us, when he came back, he didn’t hang out with the soldiers and the leaders and the people who insulted him. He came back to be with his friends.

When we go through trauma, abuse, or emotional torment, boundaries are particularly important. It is possible to forgive someone and not walk back into a relationship that will hurt you again. God wills forgiveness in our lives, but God does not will for you to be hurt over and over again.

Reconciliation is God’s ultimate will for all relationships, but on this side of eternity, it is not always possible. Sometimes in order to protect our own shalom, relationships must end. Boundaries are an important part of self care and self love. God wills shalom in your life, and that might mean firm boundaries with some relationships. It means forgiveness, but it doesn’t always mean reconciliation.

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Call them by name

“Abrazo de Jesus” by Felix Hernandez http://www.felixhernandezop.com/internet.php#

Scripture: John 20:11-19

11 “Mary stood outside near the tomb, crying. As she cried, she bent down to look into the tomb. 12 She saw two angels dressed in white, seated where the body of Jesus had been, one at the head and one at the foot. 13 The angels asked her, “Woman, why are you crying?”

She replied, “They have taken away my Lord, and I don’t know where they’ve put him.” 14 As soon as she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there, but she didn’t know it was Jesus.

15 Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you crying? Who are you looking for?”

Thinking he was the gardener, she replied, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him and I will get him.”

16 Jesus said to her, “Mary.”

She turned and said to him in Aramaic, “Rabbouni” (which means Teacher).

17 Jesus said to her, “Don’t hold on to me, for I haven’t yet gone up to my Father. Go to my brothers and sisters and tell them, ‘I’m going up to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”

18Mary Magdalene left and announced to the disciples, “I’ve seen the Lord.” Then she told them what he said to her.


He called her by name, and everything changed.

Weeping, inconsolable, desperate for any information anyone could give, she was stopped in her tracks with one word. Her name.

She was unfazed by two angels standing in a tomb that she just saw was empty. When they were no help, she turned toward a gardener, and cried out, “I do not know where they have put my Lord.” She was searching frantically. She watched him suffer. She watched him die. She could still smell the scent of the oils she had poured over his feet (although this is ambiguous, there is a strong argument by Diana Butler Bass among others that claim that the Mary who anointed Jesus’ feet is this same woman known as Mary Magdalene). The feet she had washed with her tears and hair were pierced in front of her. He was dead.

And now he was gone. Adding insult to shameful injury, he was gone. She must have turned her head again after asking the gardener about him because when he spoke her name the Scripture says she had to turn again to face him.

“Mary,” he said, and everything changed.

Reading between the lines, I am pretty sure that she said “Teacher!” then threw her arms around him and they embraced (Why else would he say, “Do not hold onto me,” unless she was already holding onto him?).

Why didn’t she recognize him? Was he transformed in some way? Was his resurrected form intrinsically different? Was she just too frantic to notice? Was it just too improbable to believe? Whatever reason she did not recognize him, that all changed when he called her by name. He saw her, and she saw resurrection. In that moment she experienced the new life in Christ. She was the first person to experience Easter. She was the first person to witness Resurrection, and she knew it in one beautiful moment when he recognized her first. He called her by name and new life began.

Call her by her name. Call him by his name. Is it too much to ask? She might have transformed in ways you may not recognize. He may have cut his hair shorter than you’re used to. They might use awkward pronouns that you’re not used to using. Call them by name, and you might give them new life.

Call them by name, and they might recognize love that they feared was dead. Call him by name – maybe  not the name you are used to, maybe not the name you know. Call him by the name he has chosen, not the dead name he has left behind.

Call her by name – maybe in clothes you find odd, or after treatments you do not understand. Call her by name because she has earned that much. Call her by name because Christ calls her by name. She has agonized in a prison she was born in. She has hidden for so long. She is fearful every time she claims her name. She is fearful of the strange looks, the scornful whispers, the outright violence that is done to women and men like her every day.

Call him by name.

Call her by name.

Call them by name.

That they might know that they are beloved.

Call him by name.

Call her by name.

Call them by name.

And in that moment they may know eternal life.

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