Sermon 11th Sunday after Pentecost - Charlottesville, White Suppremacy, What would Jesus do?

The Holy Gospel according to Saint Matthew 15:10-28

Then he called the crowd to him and said to them, "Listen and understand: it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but it is what comes out of the mouth that defiles." Then the disciples approached and said to him, "Do you know that the Pharisees took offense when they heard what you said?" He answered, "Every plant that my heavenly Father has not planted will be uprooted. Let them alone; they are blind guides of the blind. And if one blind person guides another, both will fall into a pit." But Peter said to him, "Explain this parable to us." Then he said, "Are you also still without understanding? Do you not see that whatever goes into the mouth enters the stomach, and goes out into the sewer? But what comes out of the mouth proceeds from the heart, and this is what defiles. For out of the heart come evil intentions, murder, adultery, fornication, theft, false witness, slander. These are what defile a person, but to eat with unwashed hands does not defile."

Jesus left that place and went away to the district of Tyre and Sidon. Just then a Canaanite woman from that region came out and started shouting, "Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David; my daughter is tormented by a demon." But he did not answer her at all. And his disciples came and urged him, saying, "Send her away, for she keeps shouting after us." He answered, "I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." But she came and knelt before him, saying, "Lord, help me." He answered, "It is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs." She said, "Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters' table." Then Jesus answered her, "Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish." And her daughter was healed instantly.

Grace and Peace to you all from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ – Amen.

W.W.J.D. - What would Jesus do? 


It’s a phrase you might remember from a cultural fad that swept across our nation in the 1990’s. One-part fashion accessory, and one part moral Sunday school lesson – these bracelets came to challenge Christians to think about what Jesus would do in their very situation. 

And unlike other Christian fads of the day - this one, for whatever reason, seemed to catch on more widely then simply with those who attended church each Sunday. From NBA basketball stars, to politicians – everyone seemed to be wearing these little pieces of woven fabric at the time.

While these bracelets were a simple fashion statement they also marked a counter cultural movement leading people of faith, and non-believers alike, to casually and openly ask questions about ethics, morality, and where God might be leading them in their life. 


What would Jesus do?


It is a simple question with profound implications for us here today.


And it is the question that returned to me again when I opened my news feed on Facebook last weekend while on holidays to see my screen erupt with horrifying stories and images from south of the boarder.

Like many of you I watched the live feed in stunned disbelief as more men then I could count, armed with weapons, body armor, shields, and torches stormed the grounds of a university campus in Charlottesville Virginia angrily shouting hateful phrases that I will not repeat.


Anti-Semitic phrases that should have died with the end of the Second World War. Racist slurs that Nazis and KKK members have invoked to incite fear into the heart of anyone who was listening for well over half a century. Hateful phrases meant to demean, dehumanize, and tear apart peaceful and loving communities across the world – all in the unholy name of white supremacy.


And while I was shocked, deeply saddened, and alarmed by this gathering of hate – I was also deeply aware of my privileged position as a white settler up here in Canada – as I realized this was my first brush with such active vitriolic hate in my life time.


Up until last weekend I had only read or heard about instances such as this in text books or history lessons. Up until last weekend I could casually deny the return of “mainstream white supremacy” as something not likely to happen in 2017. Up until last weekend I was largely happy to live the privileged life my white skin and Christian identity has allowed me to enjoy over my thirty-two years.  

Yet, as the weekend unfolded, as stories from the front lines of the protest were told, and as news broke of Heather Heyer’s death at the hands of a violent white nationalist behind his steering wheel, a switch was quickly flipped within the depth of my being and I could not ignore what years of unchecked hate and white supremacy had allowed to birth across the states and within our own nation.


And as I began to question what I should do in response to such an outpouring of hate - I remembered the words of the great author, professor, Nobel Laureate and Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel: “Wherever men and women are persecuted because of their race, religion, or political views, that place must - at that moment - become the center of the universe.”


So I sat down and did the only thing I could from my hotel room in Saskatoon. I read and digested every first-hand account from the front lines of Charlottesville I could find across social media, and national news sources – sharing many of them over Facebook. 

I fought back tears as I forced myself to hear and see the true dangers of white supremacy as peaceful protesters from the local faith comminutes gathered with the support of Anti-Fascists to form a barrier between other protesters, the public, and the gathering Militia before them.


And the question that came back to me, over and over again as I did was - What would Jesus do?


And if I wasn’t paying close enough attention to the gospel lesson this morning I might assume an appropriate answer would be “nothing”. 


In our text from Matthew for this Sunday we are faced with one of the most racially charged, oppressive moments of Jesus ministry recorded in the gospels. 

In his exchange with the Canaanite woman begging for healing for her daughter, Jesus acts in a way that should make us all cringe. After ignoring this woman’s cries for help he calls her, her daughter, and all Canaanite people dogs – unfit for his or his disciples help or healing.

Let that sink in for a minute.  

Jesus calls them all dogs … and likely even worse than that if you talk to some biblical Greek scholars. 

What Jesus said that day is not right or okay to repeat. The Canaanite woman was not a dog.  Her people were not dogs. And by his words Jesus does not call us to practice denigrating human beings – ever - for any reason.

Even if the world tells us otherwise, there is no room left for churches, pastors, people of faith, or anyone for that matter - to sit on the sidelines as hate, racism, and white supremacy make an effort to return to a central place in our society. 

So I also feel called to join my voice with other church leaders and say: White supremacy is deeply harmful and wrong. Similarly, Anti-Semitic threats against the Jewish community, Islamophobia attacks on Muslims, Racist assaults against People of Color, the disregard of First Nations communities, and harmful acts towards LGBTQ* peoples are all equally destructive and wrong.

But all these are more than simply wrong in the eyes of God. They are sinful and they are evil. They all stand in direct opposition to the truth of the gospel we come together each Sunday to hear and experience - that everyone is loved, cherished, and created equal in the eyes of God. 


Full stop.

Period.

Yet with that having been said, we hear Jesus speak words to this woman and her daughter that are oppressive and deeply hurtful this morning. At best they shine a light on the reality that Jesus was just as blinded to the prejudices of his day as the rest of us can be now. At worst they reveal to us a less than perfect savior we have come to worship blindly each and every Sunday.  

And if the story ended here we might be forced to rethink if we would be coming back next Sunday – but luckily for us the Canaanite woman refuses to let Jesus or his disciples go without truly hearing about the injustice of her situation.  

So with all the strength and gumption she can muster she humbly responds to Jesus racist remarks by saying, “Yes, Lord. Yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” 

And with that Jesus turns to truly sees this woman and her daughter for perhaps the first time.

With her painful, yet determined cry, this unnamed Canaanite woman demands to be seen, heard, and recognized as a child of God. And through her persistence, she teaches Jesus something about himself and his mission that is crucial for him to learn before leaving this scene. That God’s love calls each of us to break down every barrier that could ever be conceived – even if it means painful self-examination to truly see how we have actively and passively hurt another human being.

And so in the center of this troubling exchange we witness Jesus model a way forward for us when we find ourselves holding up painful prejudices – whether we mean to or not. A way forward that allows us to learn, repent, and find healing, while also acknowledging the dignity and needs of those who are oppressed.  An act that gives us all hope that God is still working in, with, and through us to make this world a more just and equitable place. Because that is what God has shown us through the life and ministry of Christ.

And so perhaps the question before us this morning not what would Jesus do? 


But what will we do?

It is my prayer that this question would rest, and wrestle within our hearts as we leave this place.

That Christ would grant us the courage to turn back, acknowledging our wrongs, and truly see those we have left behind.


That God would grant us the grace to try again, and again, and again, when we fail to see the innate beauty and worth of every created being.


And that the Holy Spirit would move and breath within us all to truly see one another as beloved children of God.


Love, cherished, and called to welcome everyone with open arms.


And may this be so among us – Amen.

Reconciling in Christ - The Calling of the Disciples

This morning I had the pleasure to be invited to preach at Augustana Evangelical Lutheran Church in Saskatoon. This Sunday they celebrated their one year anniversary of becoming a Reconciling in Christ congregation, choosing to be an affirming place for all people, but especially welcoming those within the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Trans communities. It was a joy to be with them this morning as they celebrated and to be given the oportunity to preach was a really special moment for me as well. 

Below you will find the sermon and the mornings gospel text. 

Shalom,
Skakes


Matthew 4:12-23

Now when Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee. He left Nazareth and made his home in Capernaum by the sea, in the territory of Zebulun and Naphtali, so that what had been spoken through the prophet Isaiah might be fulfilled:

“Land of Zebulun, land of Naphtali,
on the road by the sea, across the Jordan, 
Galilee of the Gentiles—
the people who sat in darkness
    have seen a great light,
and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death
    light has dawned.”

From that time Jesus began to proclaim, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”

As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. And he said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.”  Immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John, in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them. Immediately they left the boat and their father, and followed him.

Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness among the people.

May the words of my mouth, and the meditations of all of our heart be acceptable to you O Lord, our strength and our redeemer. 
Amen. 

I fidgeted as I sat. Sun beams dancing across my purple bunny dress as I swung my legs beneath the seat. This was always the hardest part of Sunday school. The sitting part. I had always loved the singing part, and the snacking part, oh and who could forget about the playing part. But the sitting part, that I always found hard. For as long as I can remember my mind has always been running at a sprinters pace, thinking of this and of that, making it hard to pay attention to any important task at hand. Despite this fact, for some reason, the flannel-graph made my little rushing mind come to a stop.

You know what I am talking about right? Flannel graph - that big board covered in felt, carrying on it a myriad of biblical forms, shapes and creatures. It’s appearance each  Sunday brought with it a new host of friends and their things, of arks and animals, brothers and dreams. All pointing toward God, who in the flannel form of Jesus always seemed to be the center of the scene. Wearing a robe of white with a blue or red sash, also had the most gorgeous head of dirty blond hair which almost seemed wind swept.

While my vision of Jesus has changed over the years, my Savior, in his early flannel form, was just as marvelous and captivating as he is now. Multiplying fishes while curing every disease, teaching people from every land, sliding across the flannel board with a grace and love that drew the created world toward peace.

Upon reading the gospel lesson for today I couldn't help but remember back to my first encounter with this story upon that same flannel board. Jesus calling the disciples sealed within their fabric form, following him in a mass blob, seemingly forgetting to drop the nets they jointly held, almost as if to carry them along just incase this whole following a rabbi thing didn't work out as they had planned.

As great as this was, one thing had always troubled me about them becoming followers of Jesus. At that young age it was not the inaccuracy of the flannel story, or Jesus blond hair that bothered me most, it was the ease with which the fishermen left their homes, and their families, to venture out into the world with this unknown Rabbi they would come to call Lord. This was something I could never comprehend or understand, asking my mother why or how these men could leave their loving families to go with this man. Having been steeped with a rich lutheran heritage of biblical story telling, I knew the adventures that awaited the disciples as they went out into the world and why this would lead them to want to go along with this Rabbi. But I had also been strongly educated by my parents in the ways of stranger danger and so I knew better then to follow a random person for any reason without the correct safe word. And so within this story I was met with a dichotomy of reasoning as I thought about the disciples stepping out to follow the Lord. 

However, a few years ago a preacher named Rob Bell helped me put all of this story into perspective. Jesus and the disciples were living in a first century Jewish world, where the Torah and the peoples faith in God influenced every moment of their daily life. Many of these fishermen would have been sent to their local synagog from the age of six on, to learn and memorize the words of their faith and its influence on their world. This class was called Bait Sa fair and by its end the children would have memorized the entire Torah by heart. Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy, by the age of 10. Now those children who were unable to complete this task would have been asked to return home to begin learning their family trades, but those who were able to accomplish this task, who were the best at memorizing, were allowed to carry on to the next step of their education, Bait Talmud, where they would memorize the remainder of the Jewish scriptures, yes thats right, the rest of the scriptures, Joshua right through to Malachi. The entire Hebrew bible, memorized by heart, by the age 15 (and you thought confirmation was bad!). As you can imagine this is not a feat all 15 year olds would accomplish and so if they failed in this attempt they would be send home to return to learning their family trades after giving it their all. 

But the best of the best, the students who showed the most promise, and the most poise would be invited to carry on to the final stage of their education Bait Midrash. At this time they were allowed to apply to learn under a Rabbi as their disciple. Now this was not for the faint of heart. Upon finding a Rabbi that the student would want to model their very life and faith after, they would try out for a position as a disciple of that Rabbi. 

Now the Rabbi would grill you, asking you all kinds of grueling questions about the Law and the Prophets, and if you managed to impress the him with your skill, your memory, and if you had proved that you were one of the best of the best, he would say “come and follow me” and you at the age of 15 would become one of his disciples, leaving your family, your friends, and your synagog behind to follow him alone. And as you might have guess, If you failed in this task, if you weren't quite good enough, like the many others who had been cut before you, the Rabbi would send you back home. 

So in todays Gospel when we first meet Peter and Andrew, 
We hear they are fishermen. 
They are working in their family trade. 
Meaning that they are not a part of best of the best.
They are on the B team.
The left behinds.
The not good enoughs.

Somewhere along the way, no matter how hard they had tried, they were weeded out.

The rejects of the Rabbinic system that no Rabbi in their right mind would ever have thought to have taken on. 

In fact, in Peter and Andrews wildest dreams they likely never imagined they would see any life outside of their fathers boats, never mind take on a coveted position with an up and coming Rabbi in Galilee. Because by now, they were far away from that scholarly tradition. Their minds had been numbed by years upon the waters, their hands hardened and cracked from dredging the nets up from the sea. They weren’t the young bright pupils Rabbis would have wanted, and they may have even wondered what they had to offer anyway. After all, they had been cast out and sent back to spend a life working with their hands and not with their minds. What good could come from men such as these from Galilee? 

So when Jesus passes by Peter and Andrew casting their nets out from their boat, calling to them as a Rabbi would, saying “come and follow me” with shock and awe they would have followed just as the Gospel has said, because what Jesus was truly saying to them in that moment was this:

“You can be like me. 
Yes you there, in the boat. 
The not good enoughs, the second class, the left behind and forgotten, 
Yes You. 
You are the ones I want to walk with, as we minister to this world.”

In the calling of his disciples Jesus turns the tables of the religious world. Proving that this ministry and this faith isn't just for the best of the best, for those born into the right families, or those of the right race. This ministry isn't just for those who are gifted in speech, academia, or memory, as important as those things at times can be. This ministry is also for those who have never set foot inside an educational building in their life. The young and the old who struggle with not only biblical texts but also with their life of faith as they live it within this world. 

And throughout out his ministry Jesus continued to prove these points time and time again, crossing borders and boundaries that had long been set up within that first century world to fence people out from those within. Ministering and healing those who were diseased and cast out, calling out to tax collectors and prostitutes, women and eunuchs, all the while naming and claiming them as cherished and loved creations of God.

Jesus chooses to call Peter and Andrew, and each one of us here today, because he is building a kingdom without walls and without barriers. An upside down kingdom where our heaviest burdens are made light. Where we can be safe from all forms of oppression that threaten to stifle our God given light. 

And this is the importance of our celebration here today. As a congregation, after much deliberation, listening and prayer you chose last year to recognize and welcome all into your community of faith. In becoming a Reconciling In Christ congregation you chose in your worship, proclamation, and mission to be a witness to God’s restorative love, grace, and justice within this community, as well as within the wider world. Tearing down and overturning the boundaries that have caused injustice, condemnation and pain, and choosing instead to welcome and affirm in love, grace, and peace all those within the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Trans communities who have longed to come and find a home of faith within their world. Opening wide the kingdom of God to be a more inclusive presence of life giving restoration within the world. And so today, as we celebrate this congregations RIC anniversary, we not only open wide the doors of this community to those of the LGBT community, but also to all those who have been othered, those who have been left behind, those who have carried the hurts and pains of the oppression of our everyday lives. Jesus comes and calls us all to be diciples in and going out from this community of faith. 

Saying:

“You, Yes You,
The one who thinks you are too old or too young to make a difference in this world,
The one who is tired of this worlds hurtful cries,
The one who is burdened with sorrow or bound up in sickness,
The one who is searching for peace in the midst of injustice,
The one who feels small and left behind, 
The one who feels inadequate,

You, Yes You,
You are the ones I have chosen, 
You are the ones I want to walk with, 
As we minister to God’s ever growing kingdom in this  world. 
To spread light where there is darkness,
Freedom where there once was the oppressed
Drop your nets
Cast aside your worries and your cares,
Come and follow me. 
As we walk in faith, grace, and restorative love within the world. 

May this be so among us. Amen. 

Indiana Jones and Naaman

Proper 23C / Ordinary 28C / Pentecost +21

This is a sermon I preached at the Lutheran Theological Seminary this fall. It is always a daunting experience to have to preach before your peers and professors and yet God is faithful and I always seem to survive :) 

As another year of Seminary is off to a racing start I am left with nothing but thanks. Thanks for my ability to be here in this place, to learn and grown, and be supported by an amazing group of peers, faculty, and staff. There will always be hardships, but even in the midst of the darkness there is light, good, and hope. I am blessed to be here and I know the adventure isn't over yet! 

Thanks for the support and the love friends! 

Skakes 

2 Kings 5:1-3, 7-15

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts be acceptable to you O Lord our strength and our redeemer.  Amen.

As any good child of the 1980’s I was raised by the thrilling world of adventure George Lucas created on the big screen. Through the sound of light sabers clashing, Ewok's scampering, and the trademark crack of a whip I learned about heroes who would fuel the fire of many a back yard adventure at my home. Armed with an old brown fedora my father let me permanently borrow, and a length of  unraveling yellow twine, I became Indiana Jones, saving the neighborhood from evildoers, while preserving precious artifacts from reaching the wrong hands.

In my nine year old mind Jones was the ultimate real life hero, armed with no power other then his brute force and intellect, he was somehow able to go anywhere, do anything, and managed to look so utterly cool while he was doing it. Well unless there was a snake, and in that case I would have to agree with his very rational fear as well. 

But beyond all of this, Jones stood for something far more then just another name in lights for me, for in his own way he was not just a hero, or another action junkie leaping across the silver screen, he was the good crusader. Bending the arms of the enemy to the forfeit what they had taken from the everyday people. Overturning the powers of evil with good. And while he may have always seemed to take the longest and most complicated road to save the day, at the end of it all, covered by the marks and scars of his journey, he was still the good crusader, who in the midst of his lack of faith always seeming to have God on his side.  

And as I was reading the text from Second Kings this past week I couldn't help but think how much Naaman reminded me the good crusader from my childhood. Naaman was a man above men, a victorious general held in a great esteem by his master, and yet more impressively, he as an Aramean, a sworn political enemy of Israel, had even achieved a degree of favor with the Lord. However, unlike other biblical heroes like Samson, Naaman had not been prescribed any special physical powers from on high. In fact in Naaman’s case the exact opposite seemed to be true, while his mind was poised for any battle, his body suffered from a war raging within the very surface of his skin, tearing him apart, and leaving him a man marked by the deep pain and shame this disease left upon him for all to see.

As Naaman was a man of great power and prestige, he had likely tried every treatment within his grasp to cure his worsening condition, and by all accounts none of them had even shown promise. Like anyone facing a seemingly incurable disease, Naaman began to get desperate. So desperate that he listened to a story his wife’s Israelite maid had shared. A story that told of a prophet in Samaria who could in fact cure him. For Naaman to even entertain this idea, was for him to be utterly vulnerable in the midst of his control. Listening to, and acting on his wife's maid’s advice was admitting that a servant, the lowest of the low, a foreign girl who by only the spoils of war had come into his presence, knew better then he. And this was to admit the ultimate defeat. For the powerful had stooped to the utter powerless for help. 

So on this advice, armed with a letter from his king, and an entourage Harrison Ford would be jealous of, Naaman took off for Samaria with the will to finally find the healing he had so deeply desired. Little did he know he would be finding it in the least likely of places.

On his arrival Naaman presented the King of Israel with an impressive cargo of gifts and riches that his entourage had been carrying along with the letter asking for the generals healing. While Naaman was expecting to receive a warm welcome and healing in receipt for this transaction, he was not expecting to get the run around he was about to experience. Before he knew it, the King of Israel had torn his clothing, called the Aramaean’s out for attempting to start a war, and sent Naaman and his entire entourage of horses, gifts, and soldiers out from his presence, and to the house of the Prophet so he could deal with this situation. And just when Naaman though his holy moment of healing was about to occur in all its splendor, the servant of Elisha appeared from the house, rather then the prophet himself, telling Naaman to go wash in the Jordan seven times to be fully healed. 

At this moment I am sure you could have heard a pin drop as the shock of what had just happened washed over Naaman. 

Did the prophet not take me seriously? 

Did he not realize the severity of my case? 

Who does this Elisha think he is to send his servant down to deal with a man of my position? 

I thought he would surely come down here and lay his hands upon me himself.

Does he not think I have tried to wash myself clean before? 

Isn't there something else I can do?

How could a simple washing cure such a disease?

What’s so great about your water anyway?!

I would like to admit that I have never had a moment like this before. That questions similar to these have never crossed my mind. Thats what I would like to be able to say. But both you and I know that this isn't the true. 

Life happens, our bodies become heavy with the weight of our own struggles against the world in which we live. Against the cancer that just wont go away in our loved ones flesh, flashing the mirror of our own mortality before our very eyes. Against the words of others that settle in our hearts, telling us that we are not good enough, or strong enough, to do what is required of us. Day in and day out stealing pieces of our soul as we sink into a depression. Against the battles we wage against one another in relationships. Creating brokenness where there should be new life.    

Sadly, when faced with struggles like these I would rather dig out my fathers old worn-out brown fedora, find a whip, and go drudging through the jungles of my own crisis, attempting to find and wrangle down the golden miracle of my own salvation. And I doubt I am alone in this. As followers of Christ I think we can all become fascinated with the working out of our journey. With finding those experiences that take our breath away and bring the immediate proof of our healing before our eyes, while ignoring the everyday miracles that pass us by. Or perhaps we have come to like the feeling of climbing up the mountain to God rather then letting God come down to us. Choosing to think that we can somehow tuck Jesus in our back pocket for when we need him most and then continuing on with the rest of our day working out our own salvation. Or maybe its more simply then that, maybe we don’t actually want to get involved at all. 

I think in this way we can be like that story of the old woman who gets caught in a flood. As the waters came she escaped up onto her roof, where she prayed for God to save her from the perils of the storm. Person after person passed by her in a rowboat, offering to take her to safety. No, thanks, she said. I know God’s going to save me. Inevitably the waters rose and over came the woman and her house, and she died. When she reached heaven, she complained to God, I prayed and prayed, but you didn’t save me! And God answered, I sent four rowboats and you didn’t get into a single one! 

We want to believe that we are different and special. And maybe at some level we want to believe as followers of Christ we deserve more then the rest of creation. That just like Naaman, we may believe our suffering should be absolved in a grand and affirming moment of faith, or earned by some method greater then simply hopping in a life boat or washing ourselves in the river. But the hard matter of truth is, that it isn't about us or about what we can do. And at the very heart of it all is that water is all we truly need. 

Because it is through these very waters that we are named and claimed as children of God. In our weakest and most vulnerable state, God choose us, as we are. Continually wrapping and enveloping us in the waters of baptism, calling us to die to our sin, and be born again in Christ. In this way it is not about us, nor about what we can do to reach up to God, as through the waters God continually reaches down to us, washing us clean and sealing us with the mark of Christ that can never be removed. A mark that reminds us that it is Christ that chooses to justify us in grace, not by anything we can do or accomplish. And when we have forgotten this the Spirit draws us back the the waters to lovingly remind us that we have been washed and made clean, breathing new life within us once again, and sending us back out into the world to walk wet.

And in this way God calls us to the River, just as God called Naaman long ago:

To wash us clean from the wounds of this world that tell us that we are not good enough. Flowing waters that reminding us through Christ’s claim that we are more then enough, and that God will never let us go.

To wash us of our selfish ambitions that turn us in on ourselves. Rushing waters that turn us again to Christ’s outstretched arms, reminding us that we are never outside of God’s loving and forgiving embrace.

To wash us with waves of Christ’s healing grace and mercy, that overcome the suffering in our lives, reminding us that in the midst of our pain we are never alone as it is Christ who has suffered for us and suffers with us.

To wash us of our deepest fears, that turn us away from embracing the world around us. Comforting waters that bring us strength through the Spirit in the midst of the chaos, and calm in the storms of our everyday life.

Washed and made clean, healed and restored, we are sent out from this place an into the world. Walk wet with Christ. 

May this be so among us. Amen. 

My Grandfathers hands

I am taking homiletics this term, which is a class on the study of preaching. It has been a great experience so far, nerve wracking but great. This past weekend I preached my first sermon here in Saskatoon at Redeemer Lutheran Church. Pastor Jay was an awesome person to work with and to learn from. I am grateful for his listening ear, advice, and excellent feed back durning the process of writing. Writing a sermon is no little or night task but I survived with the help of the Holy Spirit and my very supportive colleagues and friends! Thanks to everyone who came and listened and offered support and encouragement while I was writing it. I truly appreciate it! 

Below you will find the Sermon I preached at the Seminary today. It is based on the doubling Thomas message found in John 20:19-31.

Skakes

_________________________________________________________

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of all of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord our Strength and our redeemer. Amen. 

My grandfathers hands trace the earliest memories of my faith. Wrinkled by the passage of time, I would trace the lines of his palms as I sat in church each Sunday morning. His hands easily cupping mine, any ones would have as I was 5, but my grandfathers hands were different.They were larger then life. 

He was a hard working man who had spent his entire career working as a carpenter. Joining the profession long before the use of many power tools, my grandfather knew how to work with his hands. With the span of a baseball glove and the strength of a vice his hands could hold and wield any tool with limitless power. Making hammers look like children's toys as he completed task after task on his work site. 

By the time I came along he had been retired for years, his hands once callused by hard labor were now tender and soft, carrying on them the faintest of scars to remind him of days long ago. Instead of grasping tools and wood,his hands now reached out to greeting congregational members as they came through the church door. Ushering them in with a reassuring hand shake, peaceful smile, and a caring eye, rarely forgetting a name. As I studied my grandfathers hands on those Sunday mornings, greeting and welcoming, I came to see them as I did him. Not only as a carpenter or my grandfather but also as Christ. It was through my grandfather that I first remember experiencing the love, grace, and acceptance of God, and all through the simple act of a hand shake. 

Thinking about my grandfather and todays gospel this past week I began to wonder if this is how the disciples came to know Christ as well? 

The disciples understood what it was to work with their hands and likely their hands told the stories of their lives as well.  As many of the disciples were sons of fishermen they had grown up with the toil of using nets, casting them out and pulling them back in. Hard work turing young men into old as they worked to earn their family a supported living. Perhaps this is why they jumped at the chance to become disciples. Surely following this teacher would beat dragging nets in and out of the water every day. And how much harder could it be to become fishers of all humanity anyway? they had already conquered the sea. 

Maybe what the disciples didn't realize in that moment was that while they were leaving their nets behind to follow Jesus, they were still taking up a mission and a calling to work with their hands, just in a new and different way then they could ever have expected. For Jesus ministry was woven through the working of his hands in people lives leaving a marked impression on all those whom he had met. And the gospels are filled with such stories. 

When the disciples said it was a waste, Jesus chose to reach out his hands lovingly to embrace and welcoming the little children to come to him. Choosing who many would consider the be the least in society to of the greatest importance. 

And again when confronted by a sea of 5000 hungry followers, Jesus took bread and fish in hand, breaking them and blessing them, then instructing the disciples to hand out this amazing feast. Feeding thousands of hungry followers on just a few fish and loaves. 

And when Jarius had come to Jesus, broken and distraught over his dying child, Jesus came to their home, reaching out his hand in a healing embrace, raising the girl from death to new life.  

Walking with Jesus day in and day out, seeing and experiencing such signs of wonder, witnessing Jesus hands working within the lives of those they had been called to serve, you might think the disciples would have known without a doubt that Jesus was not just their teacher but was there lord.  

Yet when the time came for Jesus to face the cross it was as if the disciples had all but forgotten the Christ they had come to see.Beginning to doubt in their own security and role.The disciples choose to leave Jesus, their teacher, their friend, to suffer a brutal death on the cross alone. Choosing to forget about the ministry they had shared and upon Jesus death opting to hide in fear in an upper room where no one could remind them what they had lost. 

And I think this is why this gospel lesson can be hard for us to hear. For within it we come face to face with ourselves. We have all experienced periods of fear and doubt. 

When we lose hope for our selves and in God’s promises for us as well. When we deeply betray others leaving them to shoulder their own crosses as we refuse to take up our own. We expect the worst just as those disciples did then. That all was lost, and that there was nothing they could do to right their wrongs.

Often society tells us that we should expect to be held accountable to the fullest extent of the law. An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth, forcing us to try to buy back what we have lost, heal who we have hurt, and undo what we have done to harm our neighbors, family, and friends. But as we all know this is not always possible. As hard as we try, our actions never seem to be enough. 

Much like those disciples hiding in shame and fear, we become fearful, living out of a sense of indebtedness to others and at times we even try to work our way back to a right place with God. But no matter who we have hurt, who we have come to betray, the works of our hands will never be enough to take the sting of that sin away. 

And like Thomas, doubt begins to overtake us.

We doubt that Christ will come to meet us in the midst of our failure and our sin. 

We doubt that in the mess and pain of our lives, that Christ actually wants to meet us bringing forgiveness.

And maybe, just maybe, we doubt that we are worthy for such a meeting at all. 

Yet it is in the midst of these very doubts that Christ finds us. Surprising us by meeting us exactly where we are. Breaking through the walls we put up to shelter our fears. Tearing down what has come to separate us from God. Christ extends his hands towards us offering us peace. Calling us each forward in our state of disbelief to place our hands within his, and to touch his side. To trace the scars of his crucifixion, to see and feel the very forgiveness of our sins. 

This is what Christ has done for us and what Christ continues to do for us. Coming and finding us, when we refuse to be found. Offering us grace and peace even when we have yet to ask for it at all. Christ chooses us just as he chose those disciples in that upper room. Sending us out with the power of the Holy spirit to bring healing and wholeness to a broken world. Knowing full well that we are not perfect, and that in our words and actions we will fall short. But asking us to trust that like Thomas we come to witness that he is the resurrected Lord.

Its not what we expect. 

Nor possibly what we think we deserve. 

But yet it is offered to us freely. 

Redemption and Peace as we are sent out into the world. 

Amen. 

The first year class is alive I swear...

Wow! I have almost survived my first year of seminary! The end of my first year is less then 3 weeks away and I am having a hard time believing this is in fact true. It has been a crazy ride these last few month and that is why I have not updated this blog in such a long time. I was blessed to have the opportunity to go on a cross cultural trip to Madagascar this January and I will blog about that experience this summer when I get a chance. It was the trip of a life time with more experiences and stories then any blog could ever hope to contain. That having been said I will try to give a few highlights now: rocks in rice, lemurs, 800 sunday school children in church, singing, sunshine, visiting tobys, and the beautiful people of Madagascar. Things I did not see in Madagascar: penguins.

I was also given the chance to play in the first ever Roller Derby Canadian National Championships in the West Edmonton Mall Ice palace! My team the Saskatoon Mindfox was one of the 6 teams to represent their regions and while we were an underdog we ended up winning the national championships! As the president of the seminary said upon my return, "You are a ground breaker in many ways but I believe we now lay claim to having the only Lutheran Seminary Student who is a Roller Derby National Champion." If you wish to check out our game you can watch it by following the link below!

http://new.livestream.com/accounts/2904082/events/1930234

While much has changed in my life this last term, one thing remains a constant and that is God. It has been an amazing experience coming to seminary. I would describe it almost like coming home. I know that I will be excited to begin summer holidays but I know I will miss the seminary, the professors, students, staff, and friends I have made here in Saskatoon. It will be good to return home but I will miss the new life I have made here.

Late Night TV

 
Below you will find the sermon I wrote for my Psalms class. Psalm 46 is one of my favoirte psalms and I loved learning more about it, especially from a scholarly persepctive. While this sermon didn't end up where I thought it would, I think it still conveys the journey I have experienced living life through this psalm...I think I will capture the text a little better next time I get a chanc but for now here it is! 
 
Shalom,
Lindsey

Psalm 46

¹ God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
² Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
³ though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging.

⁴ There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy place where the Most High dwells.
⁵ God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at break of day.
⁶ Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall;
he lifts his voice, the earth melts.

⁷ The Lord Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.

⁸ Come and see what the Lord has done,
the desolations he has brought on the earth.
⁹ He makes wars cease
to the ends of the earth.
He breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
he burns the shields with fire.
¹⁰ He says, “Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth.”

¹¹ The Lord Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.

 

^{___________________________________________________}

 

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of all our hearts be acceptable in Your sight, O LORD, our Strength and our Redeemer, Amen.

Have you ever had one of those nights where you just could not fall asleep? I don’t have them often but sometimes in moments of high stress I have trouble sleeping. Maybe it has something to do with the amount of coffee I have consumed throughout the day to stay alert, or perhaps it is just my minds inability to fully shut off. Either way I eventually find myself, after hours of tossing and turning, sitting in front of the television at some unmentionable hour, hoping that it will preoccupy my racing mind, or in the least tire my eyes. If you have ever had the misfortune of watching late night TV you will know you are faced with limited viewing choices:

-Sitcom reruns from the 1980’s

-Infomercials

-Or channels chiming their off air signal

As the world of 1980’s sitcoms rarely tempt me, I am usually left to watch the endless string of infomercials on TV at that hour. As I turn on the television, and the screen comes into focus, I am invited into warmth of a kitchen where the host seems to know everything I could have ever wanted to know about mincing onions. In the midst of these sleepless moments, the host of this show will become my new best friend, wooing my eyes to close and my brain to sleep as they slice and dice their way to commercial glory.

If you have ever had the misfortune of watching these channels for long enough you will notice that a distinct change eventually occurs in the infomercial programing, especially if you are watching an American broadcaster. Your TV will cease showing you the wonders of the slap chop, whisking you out of the warmth of the kitchen and into a large conference center hosting some kind of revival church service. Instead of the host showing you the 17 ways you can dice and chop your onion, your TV screen is now occupied by a cleanly dressed man with the last name of ‘Dollar’ proclaiming that your day of healing is upon you. The room you see is packed with thousands of men, women, and children who are all fighting for their chance to tell their story before the camera. Before long your screen becomes filled with Americans from the South West proclaiming their testimonies of  this miracle “holy land holy water” and how it has cured them of everything from eczema to cancer and in some cases has even managed solved their financial difficulties. After watching the program for a few minutes one thing becomes apparent, these individuals do not appear to be acting. It seems they have found the miracle cure they have always been looking for, and are rejoicing in a manner that is usually only seen when someone wins the lottery.

As I watch on in stunned disbelief, I start to wonder if the people on these infomercials are indeed genuine and if they are, when did they decide to place their hope in 19.95 dollar bottle of holy water rather than turning to the God who brooded over the same waters in creation. When did they choose to put aside the healing power of the one who hangs from the golden cross around their neck, and opt instead to place their trust in the healing power of a slick man in an Armani suit?

As the program continues I wonder who else is watching this infomercial and why it seems to only ever be aired in the late night hours, when only the sleep deprived nation is able to consume its contents. I begin to wonder what was keeping the rest of the programs viewers up at night?…and what could be weighing so heavily on their minds that they felt they needed to turn to the healing power of this mystery holy water? Perhaps like many of the people featured on the screen in front of me, they were sick. Maybe they face a painful and incurable disease and struggle to make it through the motions of their day. Maybe it’s the cancer that has come back for the third time and they just can’t face the thought of yet another round of chemo. Maybe it’s a pain so deep only they can feel it, a depression that is robbing them of their will to live on. Or perhaps they are feeling financially beaten, over worked with nothing to show but mounting debt with no end or solution in sight. These are just a few signs and symptoms that have come to mark our daily lives as we attempt to walk on in a world saturated by worry and fear.

While I tend to see my own stress and worries outside of the gravity of such concerns, the reality is, when all is said and done, we are all unglued by the harsh realities of this world. Whether large or small we are undone by the sin created in the world around us, done to us, and done by us. We are told by society, our friends, and maybe even our families, to pull ourselves together, to brush it off and carry on. That for some reason, our troubles, worries, and fears should be ours alone to bear. Perhaps this is why, in the middle of the night, so many people find themselves glued to their television sets, looking for a glimmer of hope in a world that has little hope to offer at times…  

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change, though the mountains shake in the heart of the sea; though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble with its tumult…

God is in the midst of the city; it shall not be moved; God will help it when the morning dawns. The nations are in an uproar, the kingdoms totter; he utters his voice, the earth melts. The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.

In the midst of our fear and our worry God meets us in Psalm 46. In the center of the storms both great and small, God is with us. We may wonder why we have to face the problems that we do, why our loved ones get sick, or why layoffs seem to come at the most inopportune times. It is tempting to become impatient in moments like this, when we are tired and worn-out, and we just want the answers. We have the tendency to want immediate action, for God to swoop down and calm our storm, or to save us from our trial entirely. Maybe this is why so many people turn to answers they feel will solve their problems in the here and now. Why they go searching in the middle of the night for that miracle holy water to make things right in their lives once again.

The truth of the matter is, no matter how hard we work to solve the problems of our lives, only the Lord has the power to provide a safe refuge in the midst of our storm. The Lord proclaims “Be still and know that I am God” I am what you have been searching for, I have been with you, in the midst of life from the beginning of time, when I moved over the waters of creation, calming the chaos of this world, and forming and claiming a new creation by the works of my mighty hand. “Be still and know that I am God” stop striving to make things right, bring your burdens to me, and I will lay them down.

With God, what we have been promised is so much greater than an escape, the Creator of the universe has promised to walk with us through our storm, to be in the midst of our pain, in the midst of our sorrow, and to join with us in joy when the morning breaks through the darkness of our night. This is the hope that is proclaimed by the psalmist for us today, that we will not fear though the Earth should fall into the heart of the sea. God has named and claimed us in the waters of baptism, conquering the raging waters of this life by his death and resurrection. This is a claim that neither any storm can shake, nor anyone on heaven or on earth could ever falter. Amidst the chaos of this world God is still sovereign over creation, abiding with us in the midst of our storm, now, and in the time yet to come. All we have to do is bring our burdens God, who will hold them, and journey with us, till the day we can meet our Lord face to face.    

May this be so among us.

Amen