Sermon on John 8:31-36

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

It’s surprising that Jesus’ audience in this story gets so offended by the idea that they need to be freed.

After all, Jesus, the Jewish rabbi, is talking to other Jewish people who are faithfully following him. They probably know their history and their scripture very well.

Throughout the Old Testament, the Hebrew Bible, it talks about God as the one who rescued them from Egypt. So much of the Torah, the first five books, describes God liberating the Hebrew people.

And then generations later, when so many are taken into exile in Babylon, the prophets talk about God freeing them and restoring them to the land God promised them.

And still, these followers of Jesus are insulted that Jesus would talk about them needing freedom and reply that they have never been enslaved to anyone. Perhaps they mean that they personally have never been enslaved, but that seems like a more modern, individualistic perspective that would not have been the worldview of a first-century person so steeped in community and the story of their people.

So, their response is perplexing.

But on the other hand, it’s a very human thing to assume we have more control over our lives than we actually have and to get defensive about it.

These followers of Jesus seem to have too much of a sense of pride to realize what Jesus is offering to them. Their perspective is limited. Jesus’ message, though it’s for everyone, isn’t received well by everyone.

In our day, something that isn’t received well by everyone is avant-garde theater.

For example: the play, Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett.

Most plays have things like a good deal of plot, a lot of characters, and impressive set pieces.

Waiting for Godotis unusual in that very little happens to two characters (three others show up now and then but there’s pretty much two characters) on a nearly empty stage.

The English translation premiered in London in 1955 and struggled at first until a couple favorable reviews came out.

It opened in the US the next year and did terribly. It had been unfortunately advertised as “the laugh sensation of two continents.”

Yes, there are funny parts, but no, it’s not a “laugh sensation.” So, oddly enough, people who had been promised a laugh sensation didn’t like this very strange and uneventful play.

Eventually, it gained traction and has since been named one of the most significant English language plays of the 20th century.

But it, like Jesus’ message of freedom, was not always received well.

In 1957, just a year after its premiere in the States, it was performed at San Quentin State Prison.

Imagine a room full of over 1,000 inmates waiting to see the first play performed in the prison for half a century. And what they get is Waiting for Godot, an avant-garde play where there’s nothing to look at and nothing happens. Doesn’t sound like a recipe for success, does it?

A journalist described the reaction of three inmates seated near him: “[A] trio of musclemen, biceps overflowing, parked all 642 lbs. on the aisle and waited for the girls and funny stuff. When this didn’t appear they audibly fumed and audibly decided to wait until the house lights dimmed before escaping. They made one error. They listened and looked two minutes too long—and stayed. Left at the end. All shook…”

The audience at San Quentin loved Waiting for Godot.

The play centers on two people who are stuck. They’re waiting for someone named Godot to come. And every day, a messenger boy comes and tells them that Godot won’t come today—but he’ll surely be here tomorrow. Every day—he’ll surely be here tomorrow. So, they try to pass the time any way they can, until the next message that Godot will surely be here tomorrow.

The inmates knew what it was like to helplessly wait for something that never seemed like it would arrive.

They had perspective that previous audiences couldn’t fathom.

Perhaps Jesus was speaking to the people in the crowd who had the right perspective to receive his message of freedom.

The text describes the crowd speaking as one, but you and I know that any crowd of people is going to have a variety of opinions. It’s just that usually only the loudest voices get recorded.

Perhaps there were some in that crowd who recognized that Jesus was speaking to a deep need in the human soul for the freedom that comes from being in an intimate relationship with God.

In this story, when Jesus talks about freedom, he talks about being part of God’s household. He contrasts his place as the heir of the household with one who is enslaved in the household. (Again, I can never say often enough that slavery is an insult to the image of God in every person.)

But despite the troubling slavery metaphor, Jesus is assuring his audience of his power to make them a part of the household of God. And to be a part of the household of God is to be in relationship with God.

The freedom Jesus talks about comes from being in relationship.

This freedom isn’t about social standing or power over others or the autonomy to do anything one wants.

It’s about relationship.

Freedom from being bound by the power of sin and the evil in this world and freedom for loving and being loved by God and one’s neighbor.

So, what about us?

What is our perspective?

Are we offended by Jesus’ suggestion that we need help to become free like the loudest members of his audience?

Are we like the first American audiences of Waiting for Godot, unprepared to look at the world differently?

Or are we like the inmates at San Quentin, aware of the frustration and helplessness that comes from being held captive by what we don’t have control over?

Privilege can make us feel like we have control over our lives, like we’re completely autonomous and free.

We’re Americans—we live in a nation that values freedom.

Maybe we’re middle class or upper middle class and feel like our money gives us options and the freedom to live comfortably.

Maybe we have any number of other types of privilege that make it so we feel like we’re free already.

Maybe it’s hard to see how we are still human, bound by the ways we fall short and hurt each other, or bound by systems and processes and bureaucracies that we don’t have control over but hurt us and our neighbors.

Maybe it’s the very value of freedom that leads us to a sense of individualism that cuts us off from our neighbor and insists that we have to be self-sufficient.

But the freedom Jesus describes here is about relationship. Through the freedom we find in Christ, we can rest in our relationship with God, who loves us to the point of becoming human to connect with us. And through the power of God’s love, we are free to love our neighbors as God loves us.

In Martin Luther’s work The Freedom of a Christian, he writes:

“The Christian individual is a completely free lord of all, subject to none.

The Christian individual is a completely dutiful servant of all, subject to all.”

“Lord of all, subject to all”; “servant of all, subject to all.”

And there we have one of the paradoxes of our faith. We are both completely free and completely devoted to the well-being of our neighbors.

That’s not an easy concept to grasp, let alone live by.

Jesus’ first audience had a hard time with this concept of freedom, with the truth that will set us free.

As a character from the tv show Ted Lasso put it, loosely quoting Jesus, “The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off.”

That certainly was the case for Jesus’ audience and is definitely the case for me.

It’s only through the relationship with God that Jesus offers that we can recognize, like the inmates in San Quentin, our helplessness and our need for freedom.

And it’s only by the power of God’s grace that we’re able to be both free in God’s household and free to love our neighbor.

By God’s grace, you are part of God’s household forever!

By God’s grace, you are freed to love and serve your neighbor!

Thanks be to God!

First Lutheran Church

October 23, 2022

2 Timothy 4:6-8   As for me, I am already being poured out as a libation, and the time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. From now on there is reserved for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will give me on that day, and not only to me but also to all who have longed for his appearing.

Hebrews 12:1-2  Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.

John 15:4-5  [Jesus said,] Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me.  I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing. 

Sermon

The Great Relay Race

Pastor Greg Ronning

In today’s readings, St Paul encourages us “to finish the race,” “run with perseverance,” “the race that is set before us.”  It used to be that every time I heard these words, I would automatically picture the Olympic Marathon race.  I would imagine this runner, perhaps 20 miles into the race, in that moment when the body is starting to break down and give up.  And then, somehow, despite the pain, they are able to summon some kind of great strength, an inner passion, drawing upon a tremendous will to overcome, enabling them to push past total exhaustion, discovering that “second wind” that would suddenly propel them back into the race, past their opponents, and on to victory!  I’ve always imagined that this was the race, “the race set before us,” the race of faith that St. Paul was exhorting us to run, the lonely iconic struggle of the Marathon runner.

However, that all changed about ten years ago when I heard a sermon in which the “the race set before us” was described as a “relay” race!  Up to that point I had never thought of that option.  And if you think about it, it makes total sense. Of course it’s a relay race, we don’t run the race alone, we run with “a great cloud of witnesses,” we run with Jesus, “the pioneer and perfector of our faith,” and we run with each other, the Holy Community, “abiding” in the Church, the Body of Christ fleshed out in this world.  Faith is not a race we run on our own, it’s a community race.  We are not called to be Marathon Runners, but members of the Relay Team!

So, what’s the difference between a Marathon and a Relay Race?

First of all, and most obviously, as I have already alluded to, the relay race is a team sport.  That’s very different than the lonely marathon.  You can’t win a relay race on your own!   It takes every member of the team, doing their job, playing their part, to complete the race.  In team sports you learn to rely on your teammates.  In the relay race you place your hand back to receive the baton and you trust it will be there.  In the relay race you take the baton, run your lap as fast as you can, and then pass the baton forward to your teammate, who is trusting that you will be there with the baton.
The relay race image reminds us that we are not called to run the race of life alone, it reminds us that faith is not an individual event, it reminds us that we need each other, it reminds us that I need you and you need me.  Faith is lived out in Christ, in community, in relationship with the whole body of Christ.  Faith is not about simply accepting Jesus as your “personal” savior, it’s not solely about you and Jesus, it’s about you and me, the people who have gone before us, and Jesus!  In today’s Gospel Jesus reminds us, “I am the vine; you (the plural you, you all) are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing.”  Faith is not a solo marathon race, it’s a community relay race!  Faith is lived out in the plural, you simply cannot do faith alone.

Which brings us to the second big difference between a marathon, (or any solo race,) and the relay race, - “The Baton!” This is the part always makes me nervous when I watch a relay race. You win the race by carrying the baton forward, one racer at a time, till you cross the finish line.  If you drop the baton, miss the exchange, don’t do the exchange in the right time and space; you can’t move forward, you can’t finish the race, you can’t win the race.  The baton must be carried forward.

If you’re an Olympics fan you probably know that “passing the baton” is something that American teams have struggled with over the last few decades.  Despite having some of the fastest runners in the world, despite our depth at sprinting we have not won a gold medal in the 4x100 relay race in ages.  And we’ve had our chances, chances that were ruined when the baton was dropped or mishandled, or the baton exchange was done too early or too late.  Passing the baton is not easy, there is little to no room for error, it’s a blind exchange, communication is crucial, - and you must do it while sprinting as fast as you can.  It takes a lot of practice and discipline, without those two things, it’s a problem.  And that seems to be the American problem, we can run fast on our own, but we don’t run well as a team.

Which brings us to the race that you are now running, “the race set before us,” the race this is our faith, our life.  This morning, once again, we are reminded that we run this race, “surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses,” the saints who have gone before us, the ones who ran the “relay leg” before us.  They passed “the baton” on to us, they passed on to us gifts, talents, wisdom, tradition, resources, the things that make up good and faithful life. 

Who are the saints, who makes up that “great cloud of witnesses,” in this portion of the race that is your life? My parents and grandparents handed me a baton of “faith,” a football coach handed me a baton of “discipline and dedication,” and a professor in college passed on a “passion” for life.  

Now I want you to stop and think for a minute about the saints who passed something on to you, and what it was that they passed on to you, and how it has made a difference in the race of your life.  Remember their name, sum up what they gave you in a word or two. (Time for Reflection)

Now I would like to invite you to partake in a little relay race.  I want us to take a few minutes passing this baton back and forth to each other, and as you receive it, I invite you to name aloud one person and in one word the gift they passed along to you.  (Time for passing the baton)

Thank you for sharing

Last Sunday Pastor Jennifer preached about “legacy,” the things that we hope to pass on or pass down; the things that are important to us, our values, our passions, the fruit of our talents, our time, and our resources.  So now I invite you to prayerfully consider your legacy, the baton that you hold, the baton you will pass on to somebody else, as they continue to “run the race set before us.”  As you think about these things, we will once again pass the baton around the sanctuary, from one to another, reminding us that faith is about giving and receiving, making a good exchange, running the race set before us.  When it comes time for you to hold the baton, I invite you to silently pray and consider your legacy, what it is you are being called to pass down.

Thank you again for participating. 

And we didn’t drop the baton.  Once again, we are so thankful to have with us today, Lisa Higginbotham, our relay coach, who is here to help us learn the art of passing the baton.  We are reminded that the key to running the great relay race is the baton exchange.  (And perhaps we’re not so good at doing that?) So, we need a coach!  Just as important as the legacies you received in your life, is the one that you will pass on to others.  May your legacy be a blessing!

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us,…”

Amen

Sermon on Genesis 32:22-31

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

Focus:Just as Jacob would not let go until he was blessed, we can learn to cling to God, even as our physicality and identities change.

Function:This sermon will help hearers examine their legacy by clinging to God first.

God is described many times throughout the Bible as “the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.” The whole nation of Israel was named after Jacob once God changed his name in this story.

Jacob, also called Israel, has one of the biggest legacies in the Bible.

But his story didn’t start off in such a distinguished way.

When he was born, he was grasping his twin brother Esau’s heel, which got him the name Jacob, which means “takes by the heel” or “supplanter.” From the moment of his birth, he was known for clinging tightly to things, including somethings that weren’t his to grasp.

He grew up to be a bit of a trickster.

He conned his brother out of his birthright by getting him to trade it for a bowl of stew when Esau was so hungry he couldn’t see straight.

And with the help of his mother, he tricked his father into giving him the blessing that was rightfully Esau’s.

The tables turned when Jacob got older and started working for a relative named Laban. Jacob fell in love with Laban’s daughter Rachel and agreed to work for 7 years so he could marry her. But Laban tricked Jacob into marrying his daughter Leah instead and made Jacob work for another 7 years before he finally let him marry Rachel
Years later, Jacob was ready to stop working for Laban (can’t imagine why), and he tricked his way into becoming the owner of a huge number of Laban’s flock.

Laban was furious but couldn’t prove any wrongdoing on Jacob’s part, so they agreed to be peaceful.

But Jacob had been fooled by Laban before and wasn’t going to take chances, so as he left, he sent a bunch of gifts to his brother Esau to try to find safety with him.

Jacob had been clinging and grasping for his whole life—trying to get ahead, trying to get what he desired, trying to get his share regardless of the expense to others.

And that’s where our story begins today. Jacob doesn’t know how his gifts to Esau have been received. He and his family are traveling in the wilderness. They come to a river, and Jacob makes sure his family and flocks make it across safely.

Now it’s night.

Jacob’s by himself. Perhaps he’s looking up at the Milky Way, thinking of God’s promise to his ancestor Abraham of descendants as numerous as the stars.

Then, he hears footsteps.

The footsteps get closer, and closer, and closer. A stranger approaches and knocks Jacob down.

All of Jacob’s scrappiness comes out as he wrestles with the figure in the dark. No matter what tricks Jacob tries, he can’t get the upper hand.

But neither is he pinned. The two wrestle for hours, until the first rays of dawn break over the horizon.

Finally, the stranger twists Jacob’s body and knocks his hip out of joint. Jacob yelps but doesn’t let go. He clings still, determination in his jaw winning over the pain in his hip.

The stranger gasps out, “Dawn is breaking—why are you still holding on?”

Jacob responds through gritted teeth, “I won’t let you go until you bless me.”

Ever the opportunist, Jacob wants what’s coming to him, no matter the cost.

In this case, it’s worth it. He receives a new name, which will be his legacy. And more than that, he has seen God face to face and lived. Even Moses only got to see God’s back.

Jacob, or should I say Israel, had an encounter with God that changed him completely and meant far more than any of the grasping and clinging he had done his whole life.

What is it you cling to?

What is it you are grasping for?

We all cling to something, grasp onto the hope of something.

Is it peace with all your family members at any cost?

Is it the hope that you’ve accomplished enough?

Is it getting all your debt paid off?

Is it the dream trip, the kitchen remodel, the car you dreamed of having as a kid?

Is it your health? Safety? Comfort? The absence of fear?

We all have things we cling to.

We may not be tricksters like Jacob, but we still cling to things that are important to us.

Here are three ways to tell what’s important to you, what you might be clinging to:

1.    First, what do you do with your time?

a.     Who do you spend time with? Chances are they’re important people in your life.

b.    What do you spend time doing? Do you volunteer somewhere regularly? That’s probably a cause you care about.

2.    Second, what do you do with your talent?

a.     What activities have you put enough time into to be pretty good at? You don’t have to be the best in your field at it or even make money doing it, but it brings value to your life.

b.    What are you excited about?

What interests you enough to make you want to read about it or talk to other people who love it, too?

c.     What do people ask your advice about?

3.    Third, what do you do with your treasure—your money, your material possessions?

a.     Hopefully our lives are rich outside of material possessions, but we live in a society where money makes the world go round, so where we put our dollars tells a story about us.

b.    Do you invest in your home? Maybe that’s because it’s important to you to offer hospitality to others.

Maybe you are paying more to make eco-conscious choices for your home, because caring for our planet is important toyou.

c.     Do you save up money for travel?

Maybe it’s to visit family, because family is important to you.

Maybe it’s because you love new experiences and learning about different cultures.

d.    What causes do you donate to?

You don’t need to have your name on a building for your donations to make a difference for your neighbor.

None of this is about how much money you have—it’s about what you do with what you have, however much that is.

What we do with our time, talents, and treasure tells stories about us. It’s part of our legacy—the story of our lives.

The word “legacy” means something that’s passed on or passed down.

For Jacob, certainly the wealth he accumulated passed down to his children. And also, his name Israel was passed on to God’s people throughout generations. His encounter with God and God’s promises to him were passed down. Our reading even notes the tradition of not eating the muscle of the hip socket in memory of Jacob’s encounter with God. Jacob’s story lasts to this day in scripture.

Jacob, the clinging one who takes by the heel, found his most important blessing when he clung to God.

What story will your legacy tell about you?

We are all imperfect human beings, just like Jacob.

And still, when we cling to God, our story becomes greater than the sum of our flaws.

Our legacies are not solely about our treasure—not even about our time, talents, and treasure combined. But where we spend these things does tell stories about us.

I invite you to come to our Last Things First workshop next Sunday to talk more about telling the story you want with your treasure. In our society, it takes a good deal of planning ahead to make sure your money goes where you want it to. Don’t wait and let someone else tell your story in a way you don’t want.

And no matter what, cling to God first.

Don’t be afraid to wrestle with big questions—God is big enough to handle it.

Let your encounters with God change you and even rewrite your legacy.

And don’t let go until God blesses you.