Sermon on Luke 24:1-12

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

“Why do you look for the living among the dead?”

These women followers of Jesus woke early on the first day of the week to finish the previous week’s grisly business. They were taking spices and ointments to care for and honor Jesus’ body. It was what you did when someone you love died, just as we call funeral parlors, florists, and pastors. It was what was expected.

But many expectations were shattered that day.

They expected to go to the tomb with their spices and prepare Jesus’ body for its final resting place.

I’m not sure how they had planned to move the stone, but they didn’t expect it to already be rolled away from the tomb.

They didn’t expect that Jesus’ body would be gone.

They didn’t expect divine messengers to suddenly appear.

Then, the divine messengers tell them that their expectations are all wrong:

“Why do you look for the living among the dead?”

The women (understandably) expected to find Jesus where the dead are buried.

Where do you expect to find Jesus?

Up in the sky?

I caught myself the other day when we were working on learning the song “Jesus Loves Me” with hand motions in Messy Church. We got to the line “Little ones to him belong,” and I found myself pointing up on the word “him.”

There is a common understanding of Jesus and God being up—up in the sky, up in heaven, looking down on the Earth. There are plenty of places in the Bible that talk about God being in the heavens or Jesus ascending to heaven.

But is that the only or even the primary place to find Jesus?

If we only think of God and Jesus being “up,” then it’s harder to remember that Jesus is all around us and that God isn’t far away, looking on in judgment and unconcerned with our individual joys and challenges.

Jesus defies our expectations that we can primarily find him “up there.”

Or do we expect to find Jesus primarily in history?

We spend a lot of our time together reading from the Gospels—the biblical stories of Jesus’ life on Earth in the first century. That’s a good thing—so much of what we know about Jesus is because of those stories about what he did, who he spent time with, what he said “back then.” That’s why the Incarnation—when God became human in Jesus—is important. So much of what we know about God is because of what we know about Jesus during those thirty-something years he spent as a human walking around among us.

But sometimes our expectations are that we can primarily find Jesus “back then.” That doesn’t leave a whole lot of room for Jesus to be part of our lives now, except perhaps as a good example for us to follow.

Some of us may say explicitly that we believe Jesus was a good teacher, a good moral example, who lived in the first century and died and is no longer part of our lives except through memory and story.

Others of us may not say that explicitly, but we sometimes say it with our lives. We sometimes act like following Jesus is a to-do list. There’s nothing wrong with asking “what would Jesus do?,” unless it causes us to forget God’s grace. Jesus’s life and death and resurrection mean that we don’t earn a relationship with God—we are embraced into God’s family as we are. It’s that knowledge, not our own strivings to be carbon-copy Jesuses, that will make our lives shine with God’s love.

Maybe we expect to find Jesus particularly in “holy” places?

It can be easy sometimes to feel Jesus’ presence in a sanctuary like this or a grand cathedral or a peaceful chapel.

It can be easy also to feel Jesus’ presence when looking over the ocean or a mountain view or when listening to worshipful music.

Moments like those are beautiful and to be treasured.

But we can sometimes forget that Jesus is present in the person sleeping on our church steps and in the difficult coworker andin the tiny apartment where a mother is trying to stretch one packet of ramen to feed her family.

Jesus is present in the stubborn dandelion pushing itself out of a crack in the sidewalk, and Jesus is there when your neighbor blasts that music you just can’t stand, and Jesus is with every suffering person in Ukraine.

Jesus is present in spaces that are easily labeled “holy,” and also, Jesus’ presence makes every space holy.

Perhaps our expectations that Jesus is “up there” or “back then” or only in “holy” spaces are ready to be shattered.

The messengers from God asked the women why they were looking for the living among the dead.

They turned the women’s expectations upside down by letting them know that Jesus was among the living.

We, too, can find Jesus where we don’t expect him.

We can find him here on earth—not just far away in the clouds. We can find him in our daily lives, concerned with our own particular selves.

We can find him in the present—not just two thousand years ago. We can accept his embrace and know that we are loved just as we are, without having to strive to measure up to his example.

We can find him everywhere—not just in certain set apart, clean enough, fitting enough places. We can find him present in our messiness, pettiness, and pain.

Let’s stop looking for the living among the dead.

Let’s stop looking for Jesus only in heaven and in the past and in “holy-enough” places.

He’s all around us. Where will you see Jesus this week?

After all, Christ is risen!

First Lutheran Church

April 3, 2022 – The Fifth Sunday in Lent C

John 12:1-8 - Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, “Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?” (He said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it.) Jesus said, “Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”

Sermon

Pastor Greg Ronning

This past Saturday afternoon I was resting in my hotel room, preparing to officiate at a wedding.  I was in New Orleans, and the night before at the rehearsal dinner we enjoyed plenty of drink and a wonderful four-course meal.  By wonderful I meant, that I was still full 20 hours later, and another meal awaited me, in just a few hours, a wedding feast that would be extravagant, a five-course meal.  As I rested, I picked up my phone, and decide to watch some news. The news was horrible, I watched as the people of Ukraine were being destroyed by Russian bombs dropping from the sky.

It has always been this way.  Someone has always toasted with a wine glass in one part of the world, at the same time someone else has lost everything in another part of the world.  Even in the same city, someone falls in love, while somebody else grieves the loss of a loved one.  “The fact that suffering, the ordinary, and beauty coincide’ is both unbearable and remarkable.”

In today’s appointed Gospel, Mary of Bethany, breaks open a jar of pure nard, a very expensive ointment worth three hundred denarii, the wages a day laborer might hope to make in an entire year; and she lavishly anoints Jesus’ feet.  Judas is outraged, “We could have sold that and given the money to the poor!”  The author of John suggests that Judas’ outrage is not motivated by concern for the poor but his own greed, but still - Judas’ criticism gives me pause.  Shouldn’t we be thinking about the poor?  Shouldn’t we be sensible about our resources?  Shouldn’t we be restrained in our personal choices?  Is that not what disciples of Jesus do?

Jesus’ responds to Judas’ concern, and his response is frankly a little confusing, even troubling, “You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”Is Jesus saying that the poor don’t matter, that we should accept poverty as something that can’t be changed?

Today’s Gospel, today’s world, a life filled with weddings and a life filled with war, leaves me with difficult questions regarding poverty, piety,and stewardship.What am I to do with my life as a follower of Jesus?  How do I exist in this world of celebration and misery, this world of art and bombs, this world of beauty and horror?  Once again, “The fact that suffering, the ordinary, and beauty‘coincide’ is both unbearable and remarkable.”

John August Swanson is one of my favorite contemporary artists. In particular I love his paintings of biblical stories.  (Ex. The Good Samaritan)Swanson was born in Los Angeles in 1931, his parents were humble Mexican and Swedish Immigrants, an unlikely pair escaping violence and poverty in their native countries and trying to survive through the Great Depression and its aftermath.   Growing up Swanson experienced poverty, and as a person of faith he struggled with the many and complex issues of poverty.  As a young adult he was active in the social justice programs of his church serving his neighbors and his community. And that experience led him to go to college to become a community organizer, - that seemed to be his calling.  Yet in college he became an artist!  In his studies of both the social sciences and the arts, he realized that through the visual arts he could awaken the holy imagination of people and inspire them to build a better world.  He combined social justice with the power of art.

Professor Gonzalez-Andrieu of Loyola Marymount University in Los Angeles writes, “If you want justice, work for beauty. Justice is the work of making all things beautiful for all of us, restoring beauty to everything that is neither good nor true.” “Art as a Gospel of Beauty points us back to the One source of all that is beautiful.”

In today’s Gospel Jesus invites us into a moment of beauty.  Into a moment of the senses, not common sense, but the senses that make us alive, the senses that inspire our faith, the senses that remind us that we are loved.  There is fragrance, there is touch, there is something to see.  In Mark’s version of this story Jesus responds to Judas, “Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me.”  And then Jesus points to the importance of this event, “Truly I tell you, wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.”

So, what’s the message for today? 

I think it’s one of balance, the call to live a balanced life that inspires us to love our neighbors, especially our neighbors in need.  Art and beauty are gifts from God that activate our holy imaginations, that give us a glimpse of the divine, a vision of shalom – peace for all of creation.  We sing, we create, we feast, we celebrate love, we enjoy life; not at the expense of the poor, but to empower us to serve those in need, to restore the fullness of life where it has been taken away.  This demands a careful balance.  Art and Beauty in their purest forms are not to be self-indulgent but point us back to “the One that is the source of all that is beautiful,” and call us to the work of justice –“making all things beautiful ‘for all’ of us.”

Jesus’ declaration that, “You always have the poor with you,” was not a call to accept the condition of poverty as permanent in our world, not an excuse allowing us to selfishly enjoy life in the midst of suffering.  Jesus was most likely was referring to Deuteronomy 15:11,“There will always be poor people in the land. Therefore, I command you to be openhanded.” Beauty and justice are to be connected, beauty and justice are meant to open up our hands! To whom much is given, much is expected.”

What is it that empowers us to be openhanded?  What is it that inspires us to be generous?  What is it that causes our faith to be put into action serving others?   What is it that causes us to give from our bounty to those suffering in faraway places?

Perhaps it was a moment of beauty?  Perhaps it was a celebration of love?  Perhaps it was a work of art?  Perhaps it was a song that seeped into our heart?  Perhaps it was that moment when you were in need, when you needed comfort, when you needed help, that moment when someone who loved you treated you lavishly, extravagantly, and plentifully.  Mary lavishly anoints Jesus to prepare him for the cross.  On the cross Jesus opened up his hands offering grace and mercy and love.

Let us all take in the beauty of this world, the beauty of God’s creative presence, let us open up our senses and enjoy. And may that beauty, that joy, the beauty and the joy of the one that creates, sustains, and empowers; open our hands generously to those in need.  Amen

Sermon on Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

This is one of Jesus’ most famous parables, but we sometimes forget what goes on around it.

It starts with people wanting to listen to Jesus. That’s good, right?

Well, there are some folks who don’t think so. You see, these people who are coming to listen to Jesus just aren’t the right kind of folks. These are tax collectors and (gasp!) sinners. If Jesus were a respectable rabbi, he would not be attracting this kind of rabble.

What they don’t realize is that they belong in this crowd, too. They are just as lost as the tax collectors and sinners.

When Jesus hears what they’re saying, he responds with three parables. We only read the last one this morning, but there are two more before it.

In the first one, there’s a shepherd taking care of100 sheep. One gets lost. The shepherd goes and finds it and invites all the neighbors to celebrate that the sheep has been found.

Then, the second parable tells of a woman who has 10 coins, and one goes missing (and these were really valuable—like 10% of her life’s savings is lost. It’s a big deal.). So, she searches the house until she finds it, and then she invites all the neighbors to celebrate with her that the coin has been found.

Finally, Jesus tells the parable commonly known as the Prodigal Son. But, when you take a look at the two parables before it, it might be better titled “The Lost Son,” or even “The Two Lost Sons.”

There are some common elements between these three parables: something has been lost, that something is found, and then there’s a celebration because what was lost has been found.

But in this third parable, the story keeps going. The elder brother begrudges the lavish way his father is celebrating the younger son, when the elder brother has been faithfully toiling all these years unacknowledged. He refuses to take part in the celebration—that third common element in the pattern of these parables.

And the story is left open-ended. We hear the father’s impassioned speech about celebrating his younger son’s return and appreciation for the elder son, but we don’t know how the elder son responds.

It’s like Jesus is saying, “The end of the story is up to you.”

The Pharisees and the scribes—the religious elite—are just as lost as the tax collectors and sinners. They are missing out on the celebration. They’re refusing to join the party, because they resent the treatment of those they deem below them.

But Jesus’s parables show us that God searches out and celebrates the lost. The lost tax collectors and sinners are flocking to listen to Jesus. The lost Pharisees and scribes are refusing to join the celebration.

But just as the parable remains open-ended, the invitation to the party is still open to all who are lost: tax collector and Pharisee, scribe and sinner.

And we are all lost, too, one way or another.

We might be lost in a way that society would agree makes us lost, or we might look successful in the eyes of society and yet be lost deep down.

One way or another, we are all lost.

And that’s why we need God.

And fortunately for us, we have a God who searches for those who are lost—all of us.

We have a God who wanders the wilderness until our poor little lost sheep selves are found.

We have a God who turns all the lights on and sweeps the house until we are found.

We have a God who doesn’t wait until we change our ragged, pigsty-stained clothes or even apologize before God runs to meet us and wraps us in God’s arms.

And we have a God who celebrates those who are lost—again, all of us.

God calls all the friends and neighbors, orders a stack of big pizzas with lots of toppings, hires a DJ, and even hangs a pinata.

We have a God who loves parties.

And God’s favorite type of party is for the lost—celebrating that they (we) are part of God’s family.

If you’re looking for a role model, there are worse places to look than, well, God.

So, if you’re interested in imitating our celebration-loving God, you’ll have to get ready to party.

There’s a lot to celebrate right here in this place. I know there are so many things that go on here that don’t get acknowledged. There are people who don’t get thanked enough. There are things that get done without seeking recognition.

I want to give you the opportunity to notice, appreciate, and celebrate each other. You’re each going to get a few post-it notes. On each post-it note, I want you to write down someone’s name and something you want to acknowledge them for.

This could be someone who does the same thing every week and you think they should receive extra thanks for it.

Or it could be a one-time event you noticed recently when someone did something kind or welcoming or thoughtful.

If you don’t know the person’s name, just write “to the person who…[did whatever you want to thank them for].”

Then, we have this poster to put them on (thanks to Terri Robertson and the stewardship team). It’ll be right back there as you exit. Stick your post-it notes inside the heart. Maybe grab a few more post-its to take home as you’re inspired to celebrate more people and post the celebrations next week.

For those of you joining us on the live-stream, you can join in the fun, too. Email your celebratory notes to me at pastorjennifergarcia@gmail.com and I’ll make sure to add them to the board.

I’m going to give you a couple minutes to get started on your celebrations.

Thank you! Thank you to every one of you lost, found, and loved children of God. Let’s continue to celebrate each other as God celebrates us.