First Lutheran Church

March 20, 2022

Sermon on the Occasion of Jim Tyler’s Retirement

Jeremiah 31:31-34; Matthew 22: 34-40

Sermon

Music: The Language of the Heart

Pastor Greg Ronning

The Greek Philosopher Plato wrote, “Music is a moral law. It gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and charm and gaiety to life and to everything.”  Beethoven wrote, “Music is a higher revelation than all wisdom and philosophy.” And Martin Luther wrote, “Next to the Word of God, the noble art of music is the greatest treasure in the world.”  Luther explains further, “Music makes people kinder, gentler, more staid and reasonable.  I am strongly persuaded that after theology there is no art that can be placed on a level with music; for besides theology, music is the only art capable of affording peace and joy of the heart…the devil flees before the sound of music almost as much as before the Word of God.”

Today we gather to give thanks for the gift of music, and we gather to give thanks for the music ministry of James P. Tyler Jr., who shared his gift of music with this congregation from 1978 to 2020, 42. Years!

Barbara Else, senior advisor of policy and research at the American Music Therapy Association, writes, “We have a such a deep connection to music because it is ‘hardwired’ in our brains and bodies. The elements of music – rhythm, melody, etc. – are echoed in our physiology, functioning and being.”

We all know this to be true, we’ve all experienced the power of music, that song that can take us back in time, that song that inspires us to love, that song that makes us dance, that song that makes us cry, that song that releases the pain we hold in our bodies, that song that sets us free, and most important of all - that song that makes the Word of God come alive in our heart.

Study after study demonstrates the health benefits of group singing.  Singing together reduces stress, releases the endorphins that produce joy, and brings us closer together.  Studies have shown that singers who sing together tend to sync heartbeats.

Music has been a part of the Christian life since the beginning. St. Paul writes to the early church in his letter to the Colossians, “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts - sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God.” And in his letter to the Ephesians, “Sing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs among yourselves, singing and making melody to the Lord in your hearts.”

Truly music is a gift from God, a gift that gives us joy, gives us peace, heals us, inspires us, unites us, and empowers us.  But perhaps most importantly, it is the theological power of music, it’s ability to bring the living Word of God, Christ, into the depths of our hearts – giving birth to the gift of faith.

I chose our first reading today because it comes with a great story, one that I have already shared with you, but just in case you forgot it, it goes like this ….

A young student of the sacred scriptures was confused about a certain word in the text of the prophet Jeremiah.  The student read, "But this is the covenant that I will make with the house of Israel after those days, says the LORD: I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people."  The student wondered why God would write the law on the people's hearts instead of placing the word inside their hearts.

So, the student asked the Rabbi, "Why does God write the law on our hearts?  Human hearts can become as hard as stone.  Why does God not just place the law inside of our hearts?  Surely the law has no chance of finding its way inside through our hardened hearts.

The Rabbi nodded in agreement, "Yes the human heart is as hard as stone.  Yet, that is precisely why God writes the law upon the heart.  You see hardened hearts do not last, they end up breaking, and they eventually crack open.  And it is in those moments that the law comes to life and seeps deep into the heart, filling up the cracks and healing the wounds of humanity."

It has been my experience, that my hardened heart, my broken heart; has always been opened up by the gift of music.  Music has a way of getting in there, seeping in, getting to just the right place, that spot that opens up to the very depths of my soul.  That’s, more often than not, the way God’s Word, gets inside of me, healing me, strengthening me, inspiring me, and empowering me.  It’s a song, a song accompanied by The Word, a song and a melody that I always remember, a song and a melody that always remembers me, that sweet, sweet, song of salvation.

Music speaks the language of the heart, the place where God has written the New Covenant, a word of grace and love.  It is also the place from which the great commandment flows, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” The greatest love song ever written.  And when we sing of the promises of God, when we experience the promises of God together in song, I am inspired to live out the second greatest commandment, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” The gift of music, conveying the word of God, giving birth to faith, inspiring the mission of the church.

A favorite saying of Martin Luther was, “Those who sing, pray twice.” Why?  Because music “goes to” and “comes forth” from the heart, it speaks the language of the Gospel in a powerful way that cannot be forgotten, in a way that is always there when we need it, in a way that stays with us forever.  Jim, thank you for sharing your gift of music with the many people of this church for the past forty-two years.  Thanks for teaching us how to “pray twice,” thanks for leading us in the songs that spoke to our hearts, and the songs that our hearts sang out proclaiming the good news of the Gospel.

“I love to tell the story, for those who know it best

seem hungering and thirsting to hear it like the rest.

And when, in scenes of glory, I sing the new, new song,

I’ll sing the old, old story that I have loved so long.”

Amen. Let us sing the old, old story!

Under Her Wings

Pr. Jasmine Waring

2nd Sunday of Lent March 13, 2022

There has been a recent trend in parenting and child development circles called, “Gentle parenting”. This parenting style is composed of four main elements: empathy, respect, understanding, and boundaries. Gentle parenting focuses on fostering the qualities you want in your child by being compassionate and enforcing consistent boundaries. Discipline methods focus on teaching valuable life lessons appropriate for the child’s age, rather than focusing on punishments. I didn’t really believe it could be done until I saw it in action on a video. There was a parent sitting on the floor with their toddler, who was in a full-on meltdown. Screaming, crying, writhing on the floor with just their diaper on and absolutely loosing it. For those of you who have helped raise young children, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Instead of trying to reason with the child (because we know reasoning with a toddler in the midst of a tantrum is a futile battle), or isolating them in a crib to let them “cry it out”, the parent just sat there, listening. The parent gently deflected the slaps that came their way, and they spoke kindly to their child saying, “I’m right here…I love you…I’m not going anywhere”. Eventually, the child started to embrace their parent while they were still crying (salty tears, snot and all), and they hugged until the tears subsided and were ready to continue on with their day. It’s not an easy way to raise children. It requires the caregivers to learn how to regulate their own emotions so that they can be present and compassionate with the little ones in their life. The goal is connection, instead of control. Ultimately this teaches children how to regulate their emotions instead of suppressing them or exploding them. They can become more emotionally intelligent as they get older, and respectful of others. This reminds me of Jesus’ words in our Gospel reading today. As Jesus was looking out from the city of Jerusalem, the holy city beloved by God, and yet the city had a long history of lashing out against God and killing God’s prophets…and Jesus was going to be no exception. He says, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”. I can almost hear my own mother’s voice when she would express her frustration when my brothers and I were fighting. Christ, like a mother, desires for her children to return to her, to be united, to live in peace, and to find shelter under her wings. And yet, we fight and rage against God and each other. War is nothing new, especially in Europe. There have been news commentators and even Prince William have said how alien it feels to see and land war in Europe in 2022. The truth is, the reason why it seems all the more tragic to us is because the victims of the war in Ukraine are white middle-class folks like us. It’s interesting how we have become so accustomed to war and violence in non-white countries, that we forget that war and violence in any place, especially those who have been under the boot of empire, is evil and deserves our attention and compassion. But that is a sermon for a different day. Vladimir Putin is nothing new. There have always been men in power who use violence to satisfy their lust for power. Saint Paul puts it quite simply in our epistle reading today, “Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, their glory is their shame, their minds are set on earthly things.” Putin’s recent land grab should come at no surprise, because he’s been harboring resentment against the West since the dismantling of the USSR. In 2005, during his annual state of the nation address he said, “The demise of the Soviet Union was the greatest geopolitical catastrophe of the century.” We can analyze all of this with political science all day, but what it really comes down to is resentment. Putin believes that something was wrongly taken away from him and his country. Instead of processing his grief and moving on to the new world that is being created, he is clinging to the past, lashing out, and harming millions along the way. Vladimir Putin is an easy villain we can pin all of the world’s evil to, and it’s easy for us to look around and wait for a hero to come save the day. The truth is, we may want a villain, but what we need to do is look at ourselves. As my professor said in a sermon this week, “We want a hero, but what we need is Christ.” The word resentment, comes from the French word “Re satir” which means “to feel again”. That means when we experience a trauma, or any other kind of emotional pain, sometimes we are able to let the feelings take its course through us, and we eventually make peace with the pain and let it go. Resentment however, cannot let go of the pain, and it is constantly coming back up as if we are feeling it again for the first time. Father Richard Rohr has said, “Pain needs to be transformed, or else it will be transmitted”. Perhaps we hold on to pain because we were wronged by someone, and use this pain to show them how they have hurt us and punish them. That may work for a little while, but ultimately we are transmitting harm to ourselves, and we inevitably begin to harm innocent bystanders. We do awful and stupid things when we’re resentful. For some it’s saying something mean and cutting when you’re fighting with your spouse. For some it’s bombing a neighboring country. Our end is destruction. Our god is our belly. Our glory is our shame. Our minds our set on earthly things. Lord, have mercy. And yet, in the midst of our lashing out and snotty tantrums, God’s desire is for us to return to God, to gather us up, and find shelter under her wings. She is present with us, saying, “I’m right here….I love you…I’m not going anywhere”. It is the love of God that transforms us, not through control or manipulation, but through a loving connection. When Christ was facing violence, he did not return it with more violence. Instead he took on our violence and let is die with him on the cross at Calvary. So when we are experiencing the pain of resentment, we can nail it to the cross with Christ so that we may see new life on the other side. We don’t have to feel this pain over and over again. We can be free from it. God’s desire is for all of God’s children to be gathered in unity, in peace, and find shelter from harm. I know these times are scary, and I can’t imagine the terror Eastern Europe is facing. I want to leave you with the assigned Psalm from the lectionary today, because I believe it is quite fitting for the world we’re in. Let this be our prayer for the people of Ukraine, for the working class Russians who have nothing to do with this and yet are experiencing the effects of the sanctions. Let this be a prayer for all refugees of war or face violence, and let this be your prayer today. Psalm 27 The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? When evildoers assail me, to devour my flesh— my adversaries and foes— they shall stumble and fall. Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war rise up against me, yet I will be confident. One thing I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after: to live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his temple. For he will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble; he will conceal me under the cover of his tent; he will set me high on a rock. Now my head is lifted up above my enemies all around me, and I will offer in his tent sacrifices with shouts of joy; I will sing and make melody to the Lord. Hear, O Lord, when I cry aloud, be gracious to me and answer me! “Come,” my heart says, “seek his face!” Your face, Lord, do I seek. Do not hide your face from me. Do not turn your servant away in anger, you who have been my help. Do not cast me off, do not forsake me, O God of my salvation! If my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will take me up. Teach me your way, O Lord, and lead me on a level path because of my enemies. Do not give me up to the will of my adversaries, for false witnesses have risen against me, and they are breathing out violence. I believe that I shall see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord! Amen

First Lutheran Church

March 2, 2022 Ash Wednesday 

Sermon

“Shrove Tuesday, Mardis Gras and Ash Wednesday”

Pastor Greg Ronning

“Tonight,I have danced with the bagman. Tonight, I have danced with a general. I have danced with clowns and cowboys.  I have danced with the president and an elephant. I have danced with a cheerleader, with Apollo, with Dionysus.  Tonight, I have danced with God.” 

Those words are attributed to a woman named Gertrud Nelson; they belong to “Shrove Tuesday,” “Fat Tuesday,” “Mardis Gras,” “Carnival;” - the night before Ash Wednesday.  A time set aside to celebrate life and all its sweet goodness before the season of Lent begins. A time to go crazy, wear costumes and masks, indulge oneself, maybe even overindulge.

And I think it can be said that her words might also belong to us and our experience.  Did any of you celebrate “Shrove Tuesday” last night.  For some that means pancakes with whip cream for dinner, for others it’s that wild costume party in New Orleans, and for others it’s something in between.  Whatever you did last night, even if it was nothing, the words of Gertrude Nelson still belong to each of us in a much deeper way.  In fact, it could be said that we spend most of our lives at “Carnival.” 

We love to wear our masks. We have so many good ones. We get up in the morning and we put the appropriate mask on and then head out into the world, and “play,” interact with other people who are wearing their masks.  Life can be a grand game of make believe.  And we dance with generals, clowns, cowboys, kings, queens, and the president. 

And why not?  It’s hard to face the world “unmasked.”  We all know what we really look like.  How could we go out into the world without a mask? We got so many blemishes, scars, open wounds.  We all Have our shadowy sides.  And thus, we can be so weak and so vulnerable.  So, we need to cover up, there’s no other way. It’s a matter of survival. I guess that’s what sometimes bugs us about Ash Wednesday and Lent. The scriptures and the words that go along with Lent remind us too much of that conversation we have late at night when we strip the masks off, or the one we have in the morning just before we put a new mask back on, that honest conversation about our life.

It’s been said that our society no longer knows its sin, that we’ve become so hardened and dead to our brokenness. Yet I don’t think that’s the case.  I think our sin, our imperfections, our sense of being separated from life and meaning; is so great that all we can do is submit to a life of make believe.  As a matter of survival, we put on masks and act out roles just to get through another day.  We know sin, we know Psalm 51, we live in it all the time! What we don’t know is “real love,” “strong peace,” and “radical grace.”  Those things of God that set us free from having the need to wear masks and costumes.

No wonder we don’t like Lent.  Yet maybe we need Lent.  Maybe it is Lent that sets us free.  Not the kind of Lent where we beat ourselves up in some kind of “existential inner dialog.”  But a kind of Lent that we can do together.  A season where we can all agree to take off the masks and just be ourselves.  A time to gather together, unmasked, and confess to each other that, “Hey I’m not perfect!” 

If we did Lent together maybe it would be liberating?  If we let down our guard, eased up on our defenses, stopped playing all those games, maybe we would find some peace. If we stopped worrying about what other people were thinking, if we could get beyond “reacting,” and find ourselves doing something “intentional,” maybe we would find some love, maybe love would find us?  What if we gathered together, without masks, and reminded each other that we are loved, just the way we are!

Lent is not an individual event.  That doesn’t mean that you can’t give something up for Lent, or begin a diet, or an exercise program.  But don’t kid yourself into believing that that’s all there is to Lent.  Unless we take the corporate dimension of the season seriously, the hard road of Lent cannot lead to the transformation, the rebirth, the new life of Easter.

So, make plans this year to get involved in this community of faith.  Make plans to attend the Thursday mid-week service to worship and explore discipleship, the places where our faith hits the road.  Pray with a small group, read the bible with another person, serve those in need, do something faithful with faithful people!

Today is the first step, we gather to take off our masks, and expose our foreheads to be covered only with ashes; the ashes of humility, pain, and brokenness.  No masks just us.  “Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return.”   We confess our sin.  We face the pain and the darkness we all know so well. We take the time to rest in it together. 

And soon it will happen, just when we don’t think we can bear it anymore, the ashes marked in the form of the cross, the same cross traced in oil at our baptism ,will begin to claim us.  As we stand together unmasked and naked the spirit of love moves among us.  And we realize that we are not only “not alone” in our lives, but that we are unconditionally loved just as we are.

I would like to conclude today with the alternative psalm appointed for this day, Psalm 103.  I would like for it to be the last word.  Please take a moment to open yourself up to God and your neighbor, to let the masks fall from your faces, and hear this word from God.

Psalm 103

Bless the LORD, O my soul,

and all that is within me, bless his holy name.  

Bless the LORD, O my soul,

and do not forget all his benefits …

The LORD is merciful and gracious,

slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.  

He will not always accuse,

nor will he keep his anger forever.  

He does not deal with us according to our sins,

nor repay us according to our iniquities.  

For as the heavens are high above the earth,

so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him;

as far as the east is from the west,

so far he removes our transgressions from us.  

As a (parent) has compassion for (their) children,

so the LORD has compassion for those who fear him.  

For he knows how we were made;

he remembers that we are dust.  

As for mortals, their days are like grass;

they flourish like a flower of the field;

for the wind passes over it,

and it is gone, and its place knows it no more.  

But the steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him,

and his righteousness to children's children,  

to those who keep his covenant and remember to do his commandments.  

May these words lead us confidently and boldly through the 40 days of Lent and into the new life of Easter.  Amen.