Sermon for 2/16/20 Matthew 5:21-37

And to think, you could have skipped church today. But no. You’re here. With that scripture. Just sitting out there now. And how in the world will I deal with all of that in 10-12 minutes? Let’s talk about the most obvious piece of the elephant first: divorce. Yeah, we’re just going to dive right in and not waste time. I understand that no one gets married with the intention of getting divorced. But, it happens. I know some of you are divorced. Maybe your parents are divorced. Or, maybe, like me, you have siblings that are divorced. In Jesus’ time, the law was such that marriage was forever and there was no room for things like abuse, neglect, or violence. In Jesus’ time, if a spouse was being beaten on a regular basis, well, that was just too bad. Things have changed, thanks be to God. We read scripture with a different lens. We know that divorce, in some cases, can actually be a healthy and really life giving thing. While it’s painful, I can think of examples where people are actually better friends and parents when they were divorced than when they were married. But I also know that in some circles, scripture can be used to harm and hurt and I doubt that was ever Jesus’ intention. All this to say, if you are divorced or you love someone who is divorced and you or they have been harmed by the church or scripture, I am so sorry. I believe in the freedom that Christ brings and the love that Christ proclaims. 

But what I really want to focus on today is the overarching theme of today’s reading which I believe is reconciliation. Reconciliation is the difficult work that comes after confession and forgiveness. It’s relationship building and rebuilding. It’s community rebuilding, re-identification, and it can be a very slow process. But, in my experience, it’s also worth it. We don’t necessarily talk a lot about reconciliation a lot around here, but that’s not because it’s not important. So I stopped and asked myself that hard question. “Pastor, why don’t you talk about reconciliation more?” After some self reflection (which I didn’t like) and some ignoring of the obvious answer (which I preferred) I confess to you, my beloved, the truth: I don’t talk about it because I’m not all that good at it. 

See, confession I can do. I can lay out my sins like clay pigeons lining up to be shot. I don’t have a problem with that. Years of being raised Catholic, maybe. But, I also try to be self aware. I am still a fan of our confession that proclaims “forgive us our sins known and unknown” because that about covers it all. We know the places where we have messed up and so does God. Now, I will admit that confession isn’t always comfortable. At the same time, it shouldn’t be. When we aren’t living a full life in Christ, it’s not comfortable. Confession to one another isn’t always comfortable. But we are imperfect people serving a perfect God. 

Forgiveness can be easy, at times, because sometimes, it’s not on us, it’s on God. Of course, we must believe, and live, and act like we’ve been forgiven. That’s a whole other sermon for a whole other time. Forgiveness can be tricky when it’s human to human. What I have learned in my brief time here on earth is that forgiveness does not mean forgetting. Now, that’s not the same as holding a grudge. But once you touch a hot stove, you learn not to stand so close when it’s on. Forgiveness is an amazing gift we can give one another and that God gives to us. And it’s free. Forgiveness, however, is also something that keeps us from living in right relationship with one another and with God. It’s that grudge holding that the scripture spoke about.  

Once we’ve done the work of confession and accepted or given forgiveness, then comes the reconciliation. Like I said, this can be slow going work. But, in my opinion, it’s what makes being in relationship as members of the body of Christ worth it. Now, I’ll be honest, sometimes reconciliation isn’t really that hard. Sometimes it’s as simple as “we’re good, right?” And the other person agreeing. And then you move on. But reconciliation usually takes time and trust, and if we’re honest, those are two commodities we as humans don’t always like to just give away. Reconciliation also requires vulnerability which usually isn’t an emotion that most people enjoy dealing with. Over and over in today’s reading we hear Jesus say “you have heard it said…but I say to you.” In that quick turn of phrase is grace.

Please understand, that’s not permission to forget this passage, or the difficulties that come with it. But, what Jesus says only Jesus can say because only Jesus is perfect and we would all do well to remember that every once in a while. There is a difference in being right and being righteous. Reconciliation works to put some space between these two. Following every single letter of the law doesn’t make you a perfect Christian; you may be right, but you may be far from righteous. Righteous is really living into who God created us to be. Reconciliation is the effort, the time, the trust, the love it takes from many people to move from being determined and set in being right to gracefully setting up camp in being righteous. Reconciliation is filled with grace. It is filled with life. It is filled with love. Reconciliation is worth it. 

But, my beloved, it’s not enough for me to stand up here and just talk about all of this with no action. If I desire to continue to be your faith leader, it is to me to set the example. So, I humbly confess to you all the ways I have disappointed you, let you down, betrayed your trust, failed your expectations, or just otherwise failed. I may have done this knowingly or unknowingly. I ask your forgiveness the same way I already have asked for forgiveness from God. And when you’re ready, if I have hurt you, I hope you can forgive me and we can be an example of what reconciliation looks like. And if this doesn’t apply to any of you, then we should consider ourselves blessed. But if it does, then please, follow my example. Start your reconciliation journey today. Remove your armor and be brave with me. This is what being disciples looks like. 

Sermon for 12/8/19 Matthew 3:1-12; Advent 2

I have an idea for a fundraiser for church and I think with just the right amount of help we can pull this thing off in time for Christmas. You know how it is popular this time of year to take your kids to the mall and other places to see Santa? Well, we do the same thing but with a few small changes. So, instead of seeing Santa, the kids, all of us really, get to see John the Baptist. Now, if you want to sit on his lap, that’s up to you. And instead of asking “have you been a good girl or boy” like Santa does, John the Baptist will instead ask everyone “have you been bearing fruit worthy of repentance?” And we’ll set up a little coffee shop in the narthex or downstairs or someplace (I haven’t worked all these details out yet) so people have something to do while they wait to talk with John the Baptist. And the coffee shop will be called (wait for it….) “BREWED of vipers!!” Get it? I think this is a no fail idea and people will be flocking from all around Clinton county to see this. 

I understand that once again, having a reading like this during Advent can seem a little strange. You may be ready for the shepherds, angels, nativity, all of the “classic” Christmas story elements. These apocalyptic end-time stories are getting to be a little too much and are cramping our festive nature, Jesus. But darn it if I don’t love a good John the Baptist story. I love John the Baptist. He loves Jesus. He’s often misunderstood. He’s got great fashion sense. The first thing we hear John the Baptist say is “repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” To repent means to turn outward; to turn away from ourselves and out to the world. To repent means that we turn from our selfish sinful ways and turn towards God’s life-giving grace. I like the fact that the first thing John tells us to do is repent. Because once we repent the rest of his message, honestly, doesn’t sound that scary. 

Repentance isn’t easy. I speak from experience. For me, it’s an ongoing practice. When I say that repentance is turning away from my old sinful self, that sounds easy. But I know from my daily living and my daily dying that repentance is difficult. Sinning isn’t always something I knowingly do, just like many of you. It happens without even thinking about it. That’s part of what makes repentance so difficult. But what also makes repentance difficult is that I must expose myself as the liar and fraud that I am. Oh sure, I put on a good show up here every single Sunday but I struggle with so many of the same things that you do. I fall to sin daily. To admit it means exposing myself. I’m not perfect. I can’t keep it altogether. I struggle. I don’t always trust that God has got my best interest in mind. If I truly live into what repentance means then you would probably hear me confess these things to you week after week and I’m guessing that would get old after a while. But rest assured, my beloved, the office of pastor does not and will never abstain me from the intoxicating allure of falling into sin. Daily. Thanks be to God for grace and forgiveness. 

But John tells us that Jesus is coming. That alone should compel us to confess our sins. As much as I may have joked about being bad or good, repentance isn’t about our moral worthiness. It certainly isn’t about other people’s opinions of us either. Rather, repentance is about “God’s desire to realign us to accord with Christ’s life. Repentance is not so much about our guilt feelings as about God’s power to transform us into Christ’s image” (Feasting on the Word, Burgess 46). Now here’s the thing about repentance: once we start to actively engage in repentance, that is, make it our daily practice, God does this amazing thing. “We will remember and affirm that Christ has brought each of us out of bondage and has fundamentally reoriented our life” (ibid). Repentance frees us. 

Repentance frees us because when we are able to turn from ourselves, when we’re able to turn from being inward, to being outward to the world, we are in a position of vulnerability. We are in a position to no longer make ourselves our only focus, but we start to see God in the world and in others. Repentance is what reminds us that our sins ultimately don’t hold power over us. In our repentance, God will remind us that Christ has “brought each of us out of our bondage and … reoriented our life. Our own wanderings in … life will not be without wilderness hesitancy and resistance, yet God promises to keep pointing the way ahead” (ibid). When we start with repentance, John the Baptist’s message sounds more like a promise than a threat. 

All of these end times don’t have to be scary. Repentance isn’t punishment. Rather, it should be a way of life. In the waters of baptism, Christ claims you. You belong to God. Maybe bearing fruits worthy of repentance just looks like remembering that. On my worst days, I am doing really good to remember that I am called and claimed. On my better days, I repent, look for God in my neighbor, listen for how Christ is calling me to serve others, enter into the wilderness, knowing that I will not be alone, and pray that today I can be a little more like John the Baptist, pointing to Christ and the amazing things he is doing in my life and in the world. We may not always get it right. In fact, we won’t. That’s why we need grace. That’s why we need the meal of Christ’s body and blood as a reminder that nothing comes between us and the love of God. Let us not forget that the time between “joy to the world” and “crucify him” escalates very quickly. It would do us good to remember that repentance and remembering our baptismal promises can help the wilderness feel a little less uncharted and dangerous and more like a place where we’ll meet John the Baptist. Someone we can hope to be like: pointing the way to Christ and furthering God’s kingdom here on earth.  

Sermon for 10/27/19 John 8:31-36; Reformation

On the campus of the greatest university in the land, Northwest Missouri State University, sits its administration building. In 1979, a year after I was born, it was almost lost in a devastating fire. My parents still talk about it. But in 2010, the building was added to the National Register of Historic Places. It is one of my favorite buildings that stands on one of my favorite  places on earth. As you walk up to the doors and the building starts to impose her enormous height on you, if you were to look up, you would see etched in stone between two turrets, “and the truth shall set you free.” Now not being a Bible expert in college (I know, some of you may be surprised) I honestly thought it was more of like a honor code situation. Like the building was reminding us not to lie and cheat our way through college. Which also was good. Had I known the real truth, perhaps the stress of college might have been a little less. 

What is the truth?That’s a loaded question, isn’t it?  We live in a time when it seems to be harder and harder to tell truth from fiction. A lie seems to spread faster than the truth on social media these days. And I try, believe it or not, I really try to not talk politics from the pulpit. But our administration makes it challenging to believe truth from fiction as well. Should we dare criticize the administration, even if it is fair, even if it is true, there is a risk it will be called “fake news.” So what is the truth? At the risk of sounding like a basic children’s sermon answer, the truth is Jesus. Jesus even tells us that himself later in the gospel of John. He says “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” (14:6) 

Jesus is reminding all who believe in him, including us, that as long as we abide in him, as long as we are in relationship with him, we will know freedom. Knowing Jesus is knowing the truth. This is such a hard concept for us to grasp in western culture because we already live in a free society. Now, no matter what party you side with, you may not think that country is perfect, but we do have our freedoms which is what makes our country amazing and targeted. At the same time, it can be hard for Christians to understand the concept of freedom if we are already governmentally free people. 

But the freedom that Jesus spoke of wasn’t the freedom many of us think about when we pledge allegiance to the flag, stand for the national anthem, or honor our veterans. The freedom that Jesus was speaking of was the freedom that only he can bring: the freedom from sin and the freedom for relationship. The freedom for relationships with one another and the freedom for relationship with God. The freedoms that most of us know as United States citizens are wonderful and glorious and they are what allow us to gather in this place week after week and worship the way we do. We should not take them for granted. But at the same time, these freedoms cannot save us. It is only the cross and the actions of Jesus on the cross that can save us. If God forbid all of our constitutional freedoms were taken away tomorrow, we would still be free citizens of God’s kingdom because of the cross. 

We also shouldn’t miss the importance of this day. It is, after all, the day we mark the Reformation. We shouldn’t just think about this as a day in history but an invitation to constantly be re-forming. After all, scripture reminds us this day once again that we are justified by faith apart from works. Meaning, we are justified by our faith in God and by God’s saving actions on the cross and not by anything we ourselves can do. Because as amazing as we are (and let’s be honest, we’re all pretty amazing) we cannot save ourselves. We also cannot do anything to save ourselves. We cannot work ourselves into salvation. We cannot earn our way into salvation. We cannot even hope or love our way into salvation. Salvation is a gift. Knowing this alone is freedom. We are justified by God’s grace as a gift. A gift.  

God’s grace is a gift that will mess you up, like I said last week. Because really, God’s grace is the only thing that frees you really. Grace is what frees you from sin. God’s grace is what frees you from death. God’s grace is what frees you from yourself. God’s grace is that ladder that pulls you out from the pit. Grace is what picks you up, brushes you off, and dares you to start all over again. At the same time, grace is what gives us the freedom to serve our neighbor. We serve our neighbor not because we need to. We don’t need to earn points with God.That’s not how it works. No, we serve our neighbor because we are freed from our sin. Our burdens have been lifted. Our joy in the Lord is so great we just can’t help ourselves. This is the good news that our world is hungering for. This is the truth. 

I believe the world is longing for another reformation, my beloveds. History tells us that is happens around every 500 years or so and that means we’re overdue. In a time where people are having trouble understanding what is truth and what isn’t, wouldn’t be refreshing to know for certain, without a doubt that truth is as simple as Jesus. And he meets us here in bread and wine. The truth is as simple as Jesus and grace is for you too and you don’t need to do anything to earn it. We could be the new reformers the world is looking for. We could be the Martin Luthers the world is waiting on. We don’t need need doors or 95 thesis or even the dark of night to do our work. We just need to be brave enough, bold enough, grace filled enough to proclaim what really is the truth and that THAT truth, Jesus, can set us all free. 

Sermon for 3/3/19 Luke 9:28-36 (37-43) Transfiguration

Let’s be honest. There are just some scriptures that we as preachers don’t know what to do with. I think I mentioned something similar last week. And when it comes to our own faith and the scriptures that sustain us, I highly doubt that most of us would reflect back and say that it is this reading today, often referred to as the transfiguration, that sustains and supports our life as Christians. When people ask us “why do you believe in Jesus?” I don’t think we quote this scripture from Luke. (Side note though: if you haven’t thought about why you believe in Jesus, perhaps that might be a good Lenten discipline for you to take on. Think about and pray for 40 days about why you believe in Jesus). Just in case you think you’re alone with not quoting this scripture, or heck, even understanding it, rest assured you’re not alone! After all, even Peter, who was often recognized as Jesus’ most loyal disciple, didn’t understand what was going on. It even says in verse 33 that Peter suggests they stay on the mountaintop “not knowing what he (Jesus) said.”

It’s easiest to understand the Transfiguration (as if that’s possible) by remembering a few things that shape this reading. Jesus, up to this point, has been showing the disciples and us who he is, how his ministry will be, and what he expects of us as disciples if we choose to follow him. That is what epiphany is/was all about. A few weeks back even, Jesus asked Peter “but who do you say that I am?” And it is Peter (of all people) who responds that Jesus is the Messiah. But, what that means isn’t always clear to Peter (or us for that matter). Jesus knows what it means to be the messiah. It means that he will have to undergo suffering, torture, and death, only to conquer that death and rise on the third day.

So often when we think of the cross, our go to answer is that Jesus died on the cross to forgive us from our sins. While this isn’t wrong, this also isn’t the whole story. What Jesus gives us is healing, our own resurrections, and ultimately, freedom. Jesus is God’s love letter to the world. Jesus is the only one who comes again and again, without limitations, without exceptions, and without expectations, to rescue God’s people (and that includes us). Peter has said, outright, what and who Jesus is. Yet it is Peter who wants to keep him from doing it. And Jesus continues to show who he is and what he does (despite Peter, despite all of us) by once again showing his healing powers in this strange story from versus 37-43.

Here is what is so wonderful about God (as if you needed more convincing): God, through a transfigured Jesus Christ, comes to us, is present with us here and now, in ways we may understand (or not), despite the fact that we, like the disciples, may not be fully awake to the promises of God. So many of the ways we experience Jesus would never happen if Jesus would have stayed on that mountain top like Peter suggested. In the transfiguration, Jesus literally transforms. He was glowing (literally) and was surrounded by Moses and Elijah. He also transforms from the Jesus we’ve gotten to know to the Jesus who will turn his face towards Jerusalem and ultimately, towards his death.

But the disciples weren’t fully awake. It’s easy for us to miss the ways that Jesus transforms in front of us as well as transforms us. It’s easy for us to miss the ways that God, through Jesus Christ is present and continues to be present in transforming, transfiguring ways to us and for us. Here are some examples (even some we may take for granted). When we gather each and every week, Jesus is here and transforming this community. When we gather around the table and the font, Jesus is transforming us. When we gather after worship for coffee and sit around tables, yes, Jesus is transforming us there too. Just because it doesn’t take place within our worship space doesn’t mean that Jesus isn’t still there, working and transforming us. When we pray for one another, that’s transforming. When the ladies gather to make blankets and assemble kits, that’s transforming. When Diane gathers supplies, packs up the backpacks, and Teri picks them up, that’s transforming. The time, patience, and (sometimes) literal man hours that went into the basement project, the new bathroom, and soon the new carpet in the narthex is transforming. I hope I don’t have to tell you how transforming the second Tuesday of the month is around here. That’s when Rich and Nancy open their hearts and the food pantry and literally change lives through Jesus Christ.

Even in our weariness, God is transforming us and this place. Maybe despite our weariness, even. And yes, my beloveds, even when our sin gets the best of us, Jesus is transforming us and transforming the entire body of Christ. For generations, God, through Jesus Christ has come over and over to heal us, rescue us, feed us, teach us, and love us. That love is what constantly ushers us through our own transfiguration, our own transformation from death by sin to a life fully lived in the mercy, love, and forgiveness in and of Christ. Perhaps this message isn’t sinking in quite the way I want it to.

We serve a God that is a God of new life. Alleluia? Alleluia! We serve a God that is a God of second chances. Alleluia? Alleluia! We serve a God that has the power to overcome and defeat death. Alleluia? Alleluia! And that new life, those second chances, that power that overcomes death, it all happens right here. In this place. At little Elvira Zion Lutheran Church at 2207 380th Avenue in Clinton, Iowa. It happens here. Alleluia? Alleluia! Every church in the nation, heck, even in the world, should be called Transfiguration Lutheran Church (or whatever denomination). Because if we don’t believe that God is transforming us every single Sunday and every single day, how will we ever believe that God has the power to transform the entire world and does it? I hope you leave this place today different than when you arrived. You have been transformed. You have been fed by fellowship, singing, readings, hopefully this preaching, soon the meal, and on and on. You are a transfigured person. You are loved by a God that cannot be restrained, even by death. You are showered, coated, bathed in mercy and grace by a God that will consistently seek you out, even in, and especially in, those moments when you are weary. Soon enough, we will look to the cross, and there will hang the messiah. Hanging and killed for the sins of the world and to guarantee our freedom. But, we know that’s not the end of the story. Even God has the ability to transform death in a tomb to emptiness and good news. If that’s not good news, I don’t know what is. Alleluia! Christ is risen! (Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia!)

Sermon for 10/28/18 John 8:31-36 Reformation

Last year, the Lutheran church celebrated the 500th anniversary of the reformation. 500 years since Martin Luther, after an intense study of scripture, was brave and bold enough to question and challenge the Roman Catholic Church. Since then, we’ve had many incarnations of the reformation but nothing, in my opinion, as brave and bold as Martin Luther’s original reformation. At the same time, we are a church of reformers. We are a church that claims reformation as part of our core. Despite that proclamation, we are also a church with punchlines that revolve around not liking change. So where does that leave us? Perhaps reformers who fight reform at every corner? I don’t know. But what I do know is that it is more important than ever that we are a reforming church and I really believe that society needs a reforming church right now.

Often when people speak of a reformation, they quickly slip into nostalgia. This can be a dangerous habit. Many think reformation is more people in the pews, full Sunday school rooms, a healthy bottom line, hundreds of students in seminary, lots of students at our church colleges and on and on. You know…like we used to have. But reformation and nostalgia are not the same thing. And it’s good to remember where we’ve been. That helps us to figure out where we’re going. But we cannot be a reforming church if we’re constantly looking backwards. A reforming church is bold, unapologetic, centered on Christ, and takes seriously the ministry of hospitality. These 4 reasons are why I think society is hungry for a reforming church.

The reforming church is bold. So, what do I mean by that? Well to be bold means proclaiming and believing that Jesus Christ is the way, the truth, and the life. We confess this to be truth. But, did you hear the difficult part of being a reforming church that is bold? It’s one thing to proclaim that Jesus Christ is the way, the truth, and the life, but it’s another thing to believe it. To be a reforming church we must believe what we confess for ourselves. If not, no one is going to believe us or the confessions, evangelism, or gospel that comes out of our mouths. Scripture for today says “if you continue in my word…” Another way of translating that could be “if you abide in my word.” To abide means that we are in relationship with Christ. As a reforming church, and specifically as Lutherans, we believe that this relationship has nothing to do with us. We cannot earn God’s love. We do nothing to get closer to God. God draws near to us despite our sins and shortcomings. If you don’t think that this is a bold proclamation, then perhaps I need to say it more often. To many in this world believe that something, anything must be done in order for Christ to love us. After all, it can’t be as simple as Jesus loving us just because. But, it is that simple. And that, my beloved, is bold.

The reforming church is unapologetic. I think this needs to be discussed a little bit other than me just saying that and leaving it there. Please understand, I think it is important for the church to apologize in the ways and places it has fallen short, and there are many. I think it is even more crucial for the church to apologize to the people she has wronged, and there are many. When I propose that a reforming church is unapologetic, I mean that we do not make excuses or shy away from being who we are. I will never apologize for the rituals that center us in Christ: communion and baptism. So, no. I’m not sorry that we only have one baptism. It’s what we confess. And no. I’m not sorry that I will give communion to anyone who will hold out their hands. I believe these two sacraments are the most intimate ways we feel the love of Christ. Who am I to deny these to anyone? Here’s the other thing about a reforming church: we’re not going to be all things to all people. And, as the kids say these days, #sorrynotsorry. I’m sorry that not everyone will find a home in this particular reforming church. At the same time, we cannot change ourselves to accommodate everyone because we will end up being nothing. We are Lutheran. Our identities are shaped by that.

The reforming church is centered in and on Christ. I think this is kind of a given, but how quickly we forget that. There is too much temptation to make church be about anything but Christ that we can forget why we gather week after week anyway. How are the lights? Is the band playing up to date songs? Is the Pastor preaching practical sermons that make me feel good about myself (because that is his only job)? Do they have a hip coffee shop in the gathering area? What isn’t asked is where is Christ? I have been in too many churches where it isn’t obvious who or what they are worshiping. There is no cross, there’s no picture of Jesus, there’s no mention of Christ or God in the preaching. In a time where the church has turned into a consumer’s product, the reforming church remains centered on Christ and him crucified. When the reforming church stays centered in and on Christ the temptation to worship anyone or anything else disappears.

Lastly, the reforming church takes seriously the ministry of hospitality. Believe it or not, I actually think this is the most controversial and challenging thing we as a reforming church could do. Why? Because there are getting to be fewer and fewer places in society where all really are welcome. And if we’re going to continue to grow into a reforming church and be challenged by Christ’s message, the ministry of hospitality must be one of the cornerstone missions of the church. And I understand that for some, this ministry of hospitality may not be comfortable. It’s one thing to welcome those who look, act, and dress like us. But how far does our hospitality go when it’s one of our LGBTQ siblings? How far does our hospitality go when it’s a person of color whose primary language isn’t English? How far does our hospitality go when a new member joins and they like to speak in tongues? I think that’s also why it’s important to be reformers together in community. We become like this amazing, beautiful rock tumbler. We actually bump up against one another and polish one another’s edges.

So yes, I do think God is calling us into a new reformation, my beloved. Our voices are important and we have something life-saving to say. What doesn’t change in the reformation is that we continue to stay abiding in Christ’s love. Because when we are supported by Christ’s love we have the strength to boldly proclaim the message the world needs to hear. And that message is this: you are loved. You are forgiven. You are adored by a God who loves you so much that God went all the way to the cross for you. There is nothing you have to do to earn this love. You are forever freed from your sin. That, my beloved, is some bold announcements for a new reformation. The freedom given to us in Christ, the love given to us in and through Christ, and our abiding in Christ will always be stronger than our sin. In a world that is constantly tempting us with bigger, better, and stronger, how novel an idea to reform and proclaim that we believe in Christ alone, through Word alone, by faith alone.

 

Sermon for 10/21/18 Mark 10:35-45

Sometimes I wonder if we fully grasp what it means to be a Christian in today’s society. Because, in all honesty, we’ve got it pretty easy. In this country, at least, we are not a minority. Our lives are not in danger because we’re Christian. We don’t have to gather in secret to worship. We do not run the risk of physical harm just because we’re Christian. Many of us wear symbols of our faith either through jewelry or tattoos and don’t think twice about it. But, I think that if we lived a life that Jesus lived and the life that he was asking the disciples to live, we wouldn’t or couldn’t do it. For so many of us, our faith is our lifestyle, but it is not our core identity. There’s not very many of us who have given up much, or anything, to follow Christ. But, that is exactly what Jesus is challenging the disciples and us to this week. A life of service and a life of humility.

This story is a complicated one. A part of the story that we don’t hear is that preceding this, Jesus tells about his death for the third time. Jesus doesn’t hold back. He tells them that he will be spat on, mocked, flogged, and killed. Immediately following that, James and John make their request to sit at his side, one on his right, one on his left. James and John are asking for seats of power. It’s as if (as one of my colleagues put it) they’re asking to be vice president and secretary of state. Soon, James and John will see one person on Jesus’ left, and one on his right, but they will be the criminals sentenced to hang with him. James and John showed unadulterated enthusiasm for following Jesus and being able to drink the cup and be baptized like Jesus. They don’t realize that they’re agreeing to being crucified. I have to admire their confidence.

We are probably just as confident. We enthusiastically claim the label of “Christian.” We quote Bible verses. We hang them in our homes. We teach the commandments to our children and grandchildren. We reach out into the world in the name of Christ. Absolutely none of this is a bad thing. We may not be as blunt as to outright ask Jesus for a position of power, like a seat on his left or right, but perhaps we think that doing all the right things will garner us favor with Christ. Maybe worse yet, perhaps we assume that our faithfulness to Christ will bring us riches. Not money necessarily, but health, friends, more members, and on and on.

I also wonder if James and John asked what they did because they were operating under an umbrella of fear. They asked Jesus for seats of power before any of the rest of the disciples could. What if there wasn’t enough to go around? How quickly they would forget their requests as soon as they saw what Jesus’ version of power looked like. We operate out of fear quite a bit as well. We hold on to so many things for a time period that has yet to come; it’s called “just in case.” What I find interesting about James and John’s request is that they asked on behalf of themselves. In that brief moment their fellow disciples moved from companions to competition. And despite pledging allegiance to Jesus, confessing our faith in him, and singing his praises, when push comes to shove, we choose fear over trust. We choose to put our confidence in our own abilities rather than in Christ. And we look out for ourselves rather than being concerned for our neighbors.

Jesus knows all of this. After all, Jesus knows the depths of our hearts; our deepest wishes and darkest fears. Knowing all this, he points the disciples and us to a life of service and to a life where we will be last on this earth, but first in God’s kingdom. And as a reminder and an example of how we are supposed to live this life, Jesus shows us how to live this life of service and humility. He shows us, James, John, and the rest of the disciples what this life will look like all the way to the cross. Do we want what Jesus has now? Do we want this power? Do we want to claim that we can handle it?

Here’s what’s frustrating for me in this reading. I know so many of you who have sacrificed a lot. I see it week after week. I see it as you rush in during the first hymn and sigh as you slump down into the pew frustrated that you didn’t make it on time after promising yourself you would…even with all the kids. I see the sacrifices made as I look in your eyes and listen to your voice. I ask how you are and you say “fine” but your eyes and voice tell me that you’re anything but. The worry of crop prices and a harvest challenged by mother nature is so very present. I see the sacrifices you make for yourselves, for your families, and for this church. And so when Jesus tells us once again to make more sacrifices, perhaps there is a small part of me that wants to yell at Jesus “how much more do you want?”

I mean, from the sounds of it, Jesus is asking (maybe challenging us) to follow him all the way to the cross. Jesus asks us through his actions and leadership if we’re willing to give up everything we know of comfort to follow him. Are we willing to lose our homes, jobs, friends, family, privilege, maybe even our good names, just to follow him? Again, Jesus! How much more do you want? Don’t you know what I’m going through already?

But Jesus was sent into this world to free us from our sin. Jesus came into this world to free us from ourselves. We may think we want power, prestige, and fame, but what will that cost? What will be the cost to our relationships? What will be the cost to our ethics and morals? Jesus came to challenge our ideas of what it looks like to have abundant life. Jesus came to challenge our ideas of what it looks like to have power. I think Jesus knows what we have sacrificed. All of us have had to sacrifice something in life. And maybe you feel like no one noticed. Like all of your hard work, your worries, your late hours, your pacing,  your whatever has gone unnoticed. But Jesus saw you.

The good news, my beloved, is that following Christ actually frees us from what we think we want and instead frees us to receive what we need. Let that sink in for just a moment. We ask Jesus for places of power. He asks if we’re willing to follow him all the way to a cross. The cross is where our best intentions go to die. The cross is where the feeling of not being enough goes to die. The cross is where all the sacrifices you have made are recognized and Jesus says “but wait! I have something better for you.” When we are a servant to all and last on the list, we have nothing but room to be filled up with Christ’s love. Christ frees us from the expectations of this world and prepares us for kingdom living. I don’t know about you, but that’s good news to me. God doesn’t expect me to be the world’s best Pastor, or the world’s best mom, wife, daughter, or friend or whatever. What God expects me to be is the best receptacle of love that I can be. All God desires for us is to open ourselves up to the love of God through Jesus. We don’t need seats of power, we don’t need to be rulers or titans for God to love us. Serve others. Serve God. God will love us. The sacrifices of this world are taken up in the cross. God will keep coming to us and for us in love. Even in the moments that we’d rather shoo him away; even in the moments we’d rather run from that love; even in the moments that we’d rather deny that love. God will come in love over and over again. Thanks be to God!

Sermon for 2/28/18 Mark 8:31-38

Thanks to the way my brain works, sometimes I think about what happens in the Bible that we don’t get to read about. That’s where my mind went at first this week. I pictured Peter pulling his friend Jesus aside and saying “hey Jesus! Cool it with the talk of your death and stuff, okay?” And Jesus responding “get behind me, Satan” and then poor Peter moping off. I then pictured Peter passing another disciple on the road or something and that other disciple, we’ll say it was Andrew or John saying “why are you upset, Peter?” And Peter saying “it’s nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.” And the other disciple saying “oh. Okay… Well, I gotta go talk to Jesus about something.” Peter would respond with “yeah…I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

We don’t often get “fiesty Jesus” in our Gospel stories, but that’s exactly what happens today. Jesus is letting Peter, all of the rest of the disciples, and us know what it actually is going to mean to be a disciple. And it’s not easy. “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” I wonder if it was then that the disciples and all who were gathered listening to Jesus finally started to realize the life that they had agreed to and the life that they had been called to. For Jesus to say “take up your cross” wasn’t some kind of code word or phrase. The cross was a well known tool of torture and death. For Jesus, it would mean death. We have the gift of foreknowledge so we know that Jesus’ death isn’t the end of the story. The cross for Jesus and for us meant death AND resurrection.

Jesus always knew this was going to be his legacy. So he knew that taking up his cross meant doing what he had always done: preaching, teaching, siding with those who are marginalized, healing, and feeding. But, all of that is what ultimately got him arrested and hung on a cross. And in a way, the disciples knew. After all, Jesus just a few verses before our reading today asks Peter “who do you say I am?” And Peter answered “You are the Messiah.” (8.29) What did Peter think that meant? What does it mean for us? For us to claim Christ as the Messiah means that we claim our identity as disciples. And our identity as disciples means it is more than just saying we’re Christians. Being a Christian isn’t a noun, it’s a verb. Jesus challenges us to take up our cross and follow him.

What does that mean for us? Jesus tells the crowd “those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.” Does Jesus mean we literally have to die for him and for the work of the Gospel and the work of ushering in God’s kingdom on earth as it is in heaven? In some cases, that has happened. But the death that Jesus is most likely speaking of here is the death of our selfishness, the death of our self interest, the death of the idea that being a Christian is easy. Because we know, many of us can speak of it first hand, that just because we wear the label of “Christian” and just because we may try and move and be in the world as Christians, does not make us immune to pain, troubles, heartache, and even death. Being Christian is not an easy ticket or way out.

For us, losing our lives means making a confession as to what we believe and then living like it. If, like Peter, we confess that Jesus is the Messiah then that means everything we do and say points to that fact. It means we have to be willing to take on the evil forces of this world that scream and compete for our attention when they tell us that Jesus doesn’t matter and that this world is cold and has no room for love. When we know that’s not true. We know that’s not true because we’ve experienced the greatest love of all in the form of Christ on the cross. But, and here’s the catch, it’s one thing to say that Jesus’ love changes the world. It’s totally different to act like it really does.

For us to take up our cross means to live in the promises of baptism every single day. To read scripture, pray, come to the table, work for justice in the world, and renounce the devil and all the forces that deny God. That’s what saves us. Not our works. Not our actions. Not our hopeful or feeble attempts. God’s grace alone saves us. Anytime we take our gaze off the cross, we have “traded the death and resurrection of Jesus with a more convenient and acceptable means of imagining what it means to follow Jesus” (K Lewis). Perhaps it is time for you and for me to answer the question for ourselves of “who do you say that I am?” Because as soon as we can answer that, we can start to recognize the times when we’re picking up our cross to follow Jesus or if we’re picking up stones to throw at Jesus.

To take up our cross means to examine, study, and emulate Christ’s sacrificial love. This is love given without expecting anything in return. And this is love received without expecting reciprocation. The greatest weapon on earth is love. And the greatest love comes from God through Jesus Christ. Nothing is stronger than that. So by picking up our cross, we’re agreeing to love the world even when the love doesn’t want to love us back. When we pick up the cross, we aim to love those whose only desire is to quiet our message. When we pick up our cross, we hope to love those who think they’re unloveable. When we love others like Christ did, it is not at the cost of ourselves. We don’t aim to put ourselves in harm’s way or open ourselves up to abusive situations. When we love like Christ did, we open ourselves up to opportunities to love.

And, maybe most importantly, when we pick up our cross, we leave this place living like we believe the benediction is true. The benediction is the last thing we say before we exit these doors. Right now it is “marked with the cross of Christ, go forth to love and serve the Lord” and we say?? (thanks be to God.) Yes! Thanks be to God that we get to do this! Thanks be to God that God has created us to love one another and the world! Thanks be to God that God goes with us when we do this seemingly impossible work. And thanks be to God we can come here week after week and be refreshed and renewed to then be sent out once again into the world to love. Jesus is inviting us, encouraging us, maybe even daring us to pick up our crosses and follow him. It’s all too easy to say no. But, it’s more rewarding to pick up that cross and start loving the world. Living fully into your baptismal promises, may you leave this place full of the love of God and powered by the Holy Spirit so that all who you encounter know that you belong to Christ.

Sermon for 12/17/17 John 1:6-8, 19-28; Advent 3

One of the ways that I choose to engage my brain cells is by listening to a variety of podcasts. It also helps to pass the time driving. One of my favorite podcasts is called “The Hilarious World of Depression.” It’s hosted by John Moe and he interviews comedians as they talk about their issues with brain health. I am going to pause right here and say that if I use the phrase “brain health” I mean it the same way I would use “mental health.” Anyway, week after week there is a different comedian and they talk about meds, in hospital stays, and on and on. All the cheery stuff that those of us with brain health issues deal with. This week’s topic was on how to handle the holidays when you have brain health issues. For many in this boat with me, the holidays aren’t always so cheery and bright.

And, as usual, the podcast got me to thinking about this week’s gospel reading. If you were here last week, it may sound very similar. And, quite honestly, you may hear some of the same themes that you heard last week. But, it’s still a good message, so don’t tune out. Anyway, as I listened to the podcast this week, I realized that so much of what we do in the name of “holiday celebrations” does anything but “make straight the way of the Lord” (1:23b). There is a lot of crying out that we need to “keep Christ in Christmas” but perhaps we should start by keeping Christ in Christian.

John, the character in our Gospel, self identifies as the “voice of the one crying out in the wilderness” (1:23a). He is not, unlike last week, identified as John the Baptist. But, we can assume by the way he is described and by his actions, that he indeed is John the Baptist. It’s just that in the Gospel of John, he is not identified that way. Are you confused yet? Don’t be. Same dude as last week, J-Bap, the ultimate hype man; different name. What is so interesting to me in his testimony, so early on in the Gospel, nonetheless, is that he confesses, makes proclamation, declares, who he is NOT. He says that he is not the Messiah. He says that he is not Elijah. He says that he is not the prophet. And the priests and Levites have the next logical question (which isn’t directly asked, by the way) of “so then….who are you?” And I started to wonder what it might look like for us to say “I am not” and how that might actually give us life, bring us life, and help us to make straight the way of the Lord.

I don’t know about all of you, but I am nowhere near ready for Christmas. The parsonage is a mess. I haven’t wrapped a single gift. I have no idea if we’re going some place on Christmas day or if we’re going to stay home. And, for many reasons, I am just having trouble getting into the spirit of it all. And maybe you’re like me. Maybe we need to declare some “I am not” statements that is going to actually end up freeing us from societal expectations. I am not going to go overboard decorating. You are not going to see us on television winning Christmas light competitions any time soon. 1-2 Christmas trees is enough! I am not going to go into debt. There is no reason for me to attempt to buy someone’s happiness. If someone isn’t happy now, me going into debt to buy them what I think is the perfect gift isn’t going to fix that. Those of you that have young children know the value is in the cardboard box, not the box the toy came in.

I am not going to go to parties where the temptation exists to self abuse with food and/or alcohol. If you struggle with food or alcohol, why put yourself in a situation where you’re going to be miserable. Additionally, if you’re a text book classic introvert, why go to a party where small talk is just going to drain you? I am not going to go to “celebrations” to have a meal with people I either (1) don’t like, (2) I only go to the celebration because I’m related to them, or (3) I’m not going to the celebration to be with people who may be abusive to me. Lastly, I am not going to make a ton of food. And before you let your family guilt you into doing something you don’t want to do (“but grandma, it’s not Christmas without your 19 step, 5 day process lasagna”) just hand over the recipe and say “then you do it!”

On the same note, if Christmas brings you life, energizes you, and makes you happier than any other time of year, perhaps your “I am not” statements can be something like this. I am not going to be “holiday shamed.” You want to go all out? You want to bake until you are blue in the face? You want your house to be seen from space? Do it. And don’t let anyone tell you that you are wrong. I am not going to let the grinches get me down. Additionally, and maybe most importantly, your last statement can be I am not going to get sucked into the Christmas wars. If you really love Christmas because it brings you life, then it shouldn’t matter if someone bought a better present than you, if someone’s cookies are cuter than yours, of if someone’s light display is better than yours. What freedom comes from these I am not statements! And I suggest all of these because no matter what, there is a lot (especially this time of year) that distracts us from making straight the way of the Lord.

But the most powerful thing we can remember is that we are not because Jesus is. Ya hear me? Let me say that again: we are not because Jesus is. Furthermore, here’s the good news, my beloveds, because Jesus is, then we don’t have to be! Because Jesus is who he is, then that means we don’t have to be Jesus. Sure, we can strive to be like Jesus. We can love like Jesus, serve like Jesus, heal like Jesus, visit the imprisoned like Jesus, protest like Jesus, and on and on. But because Jesus is Jesus then that means we don’t have to be Jesus, nor do we need to be Jesus.

Our job, once again, like John’s, is to point to Jesus. And if that means you need to incorporate some “I am not” statements into your daily life, but especially into your holiday celebrations, then please do it. I am giving you full permission to set your boundaries and tell people I am not. When the holidays get to be just too much, you can focus on just doing one thing: pointing to Christ. I joked earlier about keeping Christ in Christmas. But, how selfish are we that we think we can actually keep Christ out of anything? And in a season of fancy banquets and country club gatherings, the church needs to be the damn church, and not a social club. This needs to be the place where the broken and bruised can come and say “I am not, but Jesus is, and that’s enough for me.” Because Jesus is, this means we don’t have to be, we can’t be, and we won’t ever be Christ. But everything we do in life should instead point to the one who is greater than we, the one who is coming after us, Jesus. He is coming and we aren’t even worthy to sit at his feet, let alone untie his shoes. The most amazing thing is though that because he is Jesus, and we aren’t, we get to sit there anyway, at the foot of the master. We get to stand in the doorway of a barn, as he suckles on Mary’s breast, the savior of the world, still a baby. We get to stand in the shadow of the cross, as he forgives sins. And we get to do all this because we are not, but Jesus is, and that’s enough for us.

Sermon for 10/29/17 John 8:31-36 Confirmation

Today is a day that is 500 years in the making. Now, I say that not because Ciera, Emma, and Tristan feel like they participated in confirmation for what probably felt like 500 years. I say that because we finally are celebrating the 500th anniversary of the Reformation. A then Catholic monk by the name of Martin Luther had diligently studied scripture and observed that what he read and how the church acted seemed to be in contradiction with one another. During Luther’s time, to go against the church was looked at like going against God directly. The church was more than the church. It served as local government, tax collector, sometimes a clothing or food source, and even a place to receive health care. To argue with the church was like arguing with the president, every member of congress, and your doctor all at the same time. And I’ve said this before, but Luther didn’t set out to start the reformation. He was trying to be true to who and what God called him to be. Through his prolific readings of the Bible he thought that what the word of God said was true, no questions asked. “And you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.”

As the students prepared to write their faith statements, what was essentially asked of them was for them to answer the question “what do you know to be truth about God?” So I ask you, my beloveds, what do you know to be the truth about God? I feel like I say this all the time, but what these three confirmands did by writing these statements of faith isn’t something that is remotely easy. It’s not something many of us could do. To sit down and literally write about what you know to be true about God is hard. But once you know what you believe to be true, that truth can set you free. Once you know your truth of God you are freed from expectations, freed from disappointment, and freed from the temptation to chase false gods.

And much like what we mark today, it is okay for your truth to be reformed. After all, we are creatures that benefit from experience, education, and our contexts. What you believed about God as a young child may not be what you believe now. God constantly reforms us. What you believe to be true about God doesn’t have to be complex. It doesn’t have to be a novel. It doesn’t even have to be 95 things you believe to be true about God. All it needs to be is the truth. The thing about your truth is it is just that: your truth. So, if I say “I believe that God is a sassy African-American female with rainbow colored hair” can you really point me to a verse in the Bible that would prove me wrong?

Here are some of the truths our students shared with us in their faith statements. “Without God nothing is possible…God’s love is always with me no matter what. … God must have a plan for me.” Another said [God] “will always love me, forgive me, and always be with me … God also helps me remember what is important in life … [God] is good and [God] has the power to help me. … God gives me hope to believe in myself.” This is good stuff, right? Our final faith statement shared what they believe to be true about God by saying “every day God’s love is with me. … I always have God’s love and forgiveness to look forward to. … I feel God’s love … God’s has a different plan than I may have expected … I know God will light the way … The biggest asset in life is God.” These truths for our three confirmands have done something amazing. It has set them free.

I find that many people want to deal in certainty. We enjoy knowing that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. We know that come April, the Cubs will start playing baseball again. We know for sure that on Christmas eve we will sing “Silent Night.” There is something comforting about certainty. So to know for certain what you believe is the truth about God can be comforting and it can set you free. As I said before, this truth doesn’t have to be rocket science. I often call it my “elevator speech” or my “tweet speech.” What I believe about God to be true can be said in an elevator ride or 1-2 tweets. I believe that through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, God promises God’s love to all people. End of story. That is what I believe to be true. And oh my goodness, what I believe to be true about God has reformed over the years. For the longest time, I didn’t believe that God did or could love me. I didn’t know about grace. I thought that God was angry and vengeful and that I would somehow pay dearly for every single sin, no matter how large or small.

But the truth, my truth about God, has led to freedom that only comes from God and comes from believing God to be loving and full of mercy. What will your truth about God do for you? What kind of truths will reform your thinking? What kind of truth might even reform your relationship with God? What kinds of truth will set you free? And even after we come to know the truth about God will we still mess it up? Absolutely! We will continue to put our trust in things and people that are not life giving. We will invest in time that will be wasted. We may even attempt to accomplish our goals and aspirations all by ourselves. And we will fail. Sin is tricky like that.

These young people today are making an affirmation of their faith and their baptismal promises. Their faith may be reformed over the next few years, but they are bold enough to stand in front of all of us today and declare what they know to be the truth about God. And their lives are changed for it. Ciera, Emma, and Tristan, I want to thank you. Thank you for trusting me with your questions and curiosities. Thank you for your amusing snap chat sermon notes. Thank you for being willing to try new things. Thank you for loving yourselves and God enough to go through this process. I pray that the truth you now know and believe about God has set you free.

Sermon for 8/13/17 Matthew 14:22-33

How many of you have ever heard the phrase don’t ask Jesus to guide your feet if you are not willing to move? So, for the record, Peter asked to get out of the boat. And sure, we could blame Peter for being a lot of things: tired, delusional, maybe hungry, whatever. But the fact is, he asked Jesus to call him out of the boat. Peter! If you are not willing to go with Jesus, don’t ask him to move you. And try as we might to shake are headed Peter, we are often guilty of doing the same thing. “Lord! Please, use me! But, on my own time, under my own circumstances, and when I am good and ready.” If you have ever try to negotiate with God, you know how well it turns out. Normally, it doesn’t turn out the way you wanted to. It turns out the way God wants it to. And, as it turns out, it usually is much better than what we had planned. With apologies to those of you who shudder at salty language, I think my sermon this week can be summed up best by one sentence: get out of the damn boat!

Why do we think that discipleship, evangelism, stewardship, and caring for the other is someone else’s job? We are quick to want our children, grandchildren, family members, and loved ones baptized. We often think it is a ticket out. We think it is a ticket out of hell. That is why you may find some grandparents worried about their grandchildren’s salvation. But I am here to tell you, baptism is not a ticket out, but it is a ticket in. In our baptism, our ticket stamped. It is our ticket in to evangelism, stewardship, and discipleship. Once we are baptized into the community of believers, we are then “in” to work for Christ.

And maybe we don’t realize that that is part of what happens of baptism. After all, most of us were baptized as children. We did not have much of a say as to what we were getting ourselves into. But, generations before us have been baptized and survived working for Christ, generations after us will be baptized and survive working for Christ. I think we can handle it as well.

But often, instead of looking at situations as continuing to validate our ticket in, we put up walls, come up with excuses, and sometimes even blatantly ignore Christ. It is a very dangerous thing to ignore God. I have said before that God is the master of hide and seek. You may try and hide from God, but God will find you. When God calls, we often let self doubt, fear, and the shame and stigma serving Christ get in our way. Forgive me for using a dumb example. But, when people were in trouble in the Superman movies, Superman never looked at them and said “you know, as it turns out, this is more of a job for Spiderman.” No, Superman saw a need, and figured out how to solve the situation.

Now, I understand that none of us are Superman, Wonder Woman, or Spiderman for that matter. We can’t leap tall buildings in a single bound. We don’t own an invisible jet. We certainly are not able to swing from building to building with ease. But, what we do have is something even better. We have God calling us, the Holy Spirit on our side, and Christ already leading the way.  And maybe it is difficult for you to hear the good news in this gospel today. But here it is for you, my beloved’s. When we ask God to move us, and we step out of the boat, nothing is on us. God already has a plan, God already has a will and a way. And more importantly God has got us. Did you hear that? Jesus reached out to Peter and held onto Peter. God has got us. We need not be afraid of anything. God has got us. Are you hearing me? When we dare step out and take the risk, God has got us.

I often say that God prepares the called. God does not call the prepared. If God is calling you to something daring, or maybe even just something out of your norm, God will prepare you. God has got you. Or, maybe for those of you that are a little younger, maybe you understand this better: “God’s got yo’ back.”

As I prayed about the national events that have taken place in the last 48 hours, it occurred to me that we may not desire to get out of the boat because the boat is comfortable. The boat is where we are surrounded by people who think, act, talk, and look like us. Sure, we may ask Jesus to move us, but when we realize that Jesus is an undocumented man of color, we may start to question his abilities. Part of my call to serve this church, and not just the church local but the church global, is to name sin when I see it. It’s part of being what Luther called “a theologian of the cross.” What happened in the name of “justice” in Charlottesville, Virginia over the last few days is sin. It is white nationalism. It is domestic terrorism. Death occurred. These are people that want to hide behind their skin and long established positions of power. These are radicals. These people, marching with torches, yelling terribly racist things are the community soccer coaches, mail carriers, grocer, and maybe even worse yet, these are people that sit in church pews every Sunday. These are people who refuse to get out of the boat because the boat is comfortable. The boat is filled with people just like them. The boat is safe. Stepping out of the boat is scary, I totally get that. But the boat of white supremacy has been floating in rivers of blood spilled by our siblings of color for too long. I, for one, no longer refuse to be quiet and complacent. My silence has lead to death. I am getting out of the boat. Not because I want to, but because God has called me to wade into the waters. God has got me. I am going to mess up, and get my words wrong, and my actions may be sloppy. But, I can no longer stay silent. I’d rather sink in the rivers of justice than continue to float in my own little boat of white privilege.

As you may recall, last week I gave five of your fellow congregation members $40 a piece. They trusted in God and got out of the boat. They trusted that God had them and was already working through them to show them where those funds needed to go. I am so excited to hear the stories of how God moved this week I’m on the people of God. Who wants to start?