Sermon on Luke 21:5-19

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

There are some events that are so significant that they change our understanding of time:

There is a before, and there is an after.

Some are historical, like 9/11 or March 2020. There was before 9/11 and there was after. There was before COVID and since COVID (we still haven’t reached an after, exactly).

You can still tell which movies were made before 9/11 by their airport scenes or if they show the New York skyline.

It was weird in 2020 to watch tv shows that showed people hugging and not wearing masks.

There was a before and an after.

The same is true in our personal lives. Just as there are historical events, there are also personal events that change our understanding of time.

A death, an accident, or a diagnosis can be just as earth-shifting.

And again, there is a before and an after.

And for Jewish people in the first century, there was before the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem, and there was after.

The Temple was the center of Jewish cultural and religious life. Its destruction in 70 CE must have felt like the end of the world.

In our story today, Jesus predicts the destruction of the Temple, and his followers are horrified that such a beautiful place would be destroyed.

And also, the writer of Luke wrote down this story after the destruction of the Temple.

It’s like someone in 2022 writing a story about an airport that takes place in 2000. There’s no way to write that story without thinking about 9/11, even though it hadn’t happened yet when the story took place.

Jesus was preparing his followers for the tragedy to come, and the writer of Luke was reassuring people who had lived through it that Jesus was still with them and God was on their side.

Jesus was talking to people in the before, and the writer of Luke was talking to people in the after—people who felt like the world was ending.

We know something of that, don’t we?

We are in our “after” for the outbreak of COVID.

We are in the “after” of the start of the war in Ukraine.

Election Day was earlier this week, and those tend to feel like “before” and “after” situations, too.

Kenya, Somalia, Ethiopia, and Nigeria are experiencing drought and food shortages.

There are protests in Iran and violent countermeasures by the government.

Puerto Rico was hit hard by a hurricane in September.

And those are just some of the historical events. We haven’t listed them all, and we haven’t even mentioned the personal heartbreaks in this community. We’ve had deaths and diagnoses and lost jobs and so many other “afters.”

Our world is hurting. So many of us are living in the “afters,” where it feels like the world is ending.

 

And still, the world continues. Time isn’t stopping, even when it seems like the world can’t hold any more pain.

 

Sometimes people blame disasters on God’s judgment on people’s “immoral” behavior. They declare God’s judgment like it’s theirs to dish out.

And if you read our passage in Malachi out of context, it can sound very “fire and brimstone.” It can sound like it supports the idea that God rains destruction on “wicked” people.

But the book of Malachiis more about God calling to account people in power who are abusing their positions.

That’s really different from: “they had an earthquake over there because their cultural practices are different from mine, which are obviously the right ones.”

 

Both the passage from Malachi and from Luke are apocalyptic. That sounds like a scary word, because our culture tends to use “apocalypse” to mean a big disaster or a very scary way the world ends.

But in the Bible, “apocalypse” means “unveiling” or “revealing.” So whenever there’s something that talks about an upcoming disaster or what it will be like at the end of time, it’s not meant to scare you. It’s not meant to be fire and brimstone and judgment. These passages are meant to reveal something, not tell a scary story or shame people into behaving.

So what are these passages revealing?

The passage from Malachi is reminding people who have become complacent and people in power who are abusing their power that the Reign of God will be fulfilled one day and that God’s justice will be complete. Yes, what is evil will be no more—there will be no more suffering or taking advantage of each other—and God will bring healing to the world. It’s a message of hope to remind people that God will make things right.

And in our Gospel passage, Jesus is saying that disasters and wars and all kinds of terrible things are going to happen, and they’re going to feel like the end of the world, but they’re not.

They might feel like God’s judgment, but they’re not.

They’re things that are going to happen, and people are going to assign all kinds of meaning to them, but they’re just part of what it means to be alive on our planet.


Sure, we should work for peace to put a stop to wars, and we should take care of our planet to minimize the impact of natural disasters, and we should take care of our neighbors when they’re victims of any kind of tragedy.

But, these events that Jesus talks about don’t mean it’s the literal end of the world or that God is inflicting punishment on us. Far from it.

What is being revealed here is that God is present with us in suffering and pain.

God is with us when it feels like the end of the world.

God weeps with us in tragedy and cries out when we experience anguish.

Jesus was preparing his followers for the destruction of the Temple, and the writer of Luke was reminding his audience that God was with them when it felt like the world was ending.

 

None of this is to minimize the tragedies in our lives and in our world. Things feel like the end of the world because in a way they do end the way the world was in the “before” time. There is no going back once there is an “after.”

But both Malachi and Jesus remind us that God is on our side, not waiting to punish us.

There have been and will continue to be a lot of things that feel like the end of the world, and God is with us in that.

And one day, the Reign of God will be fulfilled, God’s justice on the behalf of the least, the last, and the lost will be complete, and the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its wings.

Until then, in all your befores and afters,

care for each other,

share your stories about how you see God moving in the world,

and remember that God is with you, no matter what.

First Lutheran Church

November 6, 2022 + All Saints Sunday

 

Luke 20:27-3827Some Sadducees, those who say there is no resurrection, came to him 28and asked him a question, "Teacher, Moses wrote for us that if a man's brother dies, leaving a wife but no children, the man shall marry the widow and raise up children for his brother. 29Now there were seven brothers; the first married, and died childless; 30then the second 31and the third married her, and so in the same way all seven died childless. 32Finally the woman also died. 33In the resurrection, therefore, whose wife will the woman be? For the seven had married her."


34Jesus said to them, "Those who belong to this age marry and are given in marriage; 35but those who are considered worthy of a place in that age and in the resurrection from the dead neither marry nor are given in marriage. 36Indeed they cannot die anymore, because they are like angels and are children of God, being children of the resurrection. 37And the fact that the dead are raised Moses himself showed, in the story about the bush, where he speaks of the Lord as the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. 38Now he is God not of the dead, but of the living; for to him all of them are alive."

 

 

Sermon

“Trusting in the Resurrection”

Pastor Greg Ronning

 

In what do you place your “absolute” trust?  When things get crazy, when things get uncertain, when things fall apart, when big decisions need to be made, when mortality must be faced, - what do you count on?  When push comes to shove, where do you place your “absolute” trust? This morning Jesus invites us to trust in the “resurrection,” to actually trust that “death” that leads to “life,” and even more specifically, that dying to Christ, that Christ on the cross, leads to this promised resurrection!

 

In this week’s Gospel reading the Sadducees ask Jesus a complicated question about the resurrection.  They tell a story about a woman who had seven husbands and they are wondering whose wife she will be in heaven. Well, it’s a trick question, the Sadducees don’t believe in the resurrection, and they are hoping to embarrass Jesus with this question. However, Jesus quickly responds with an answer, revealing that the Sadducees don’t understand the true nature of the resurrection from the dead.  Jesus replies, "Those who belong to this age marry and are given in marriage but those who are considered worthy of a place in that age and in the resurrection from the dead neither marry nor are given in marriage.”  Jesus proclaims that in the resurrection “all things will be new!”  In other words, it’s like comparing apples and oranges.  They will be different, totally different?

 

So, what does this mean for us?  And what does it have to do with trusting in the resurrection?

 

Today is All Saints Sunday, a day when we gather to celebrate the promise that we are surrounded by that great cloud of witness’ who have gone before us, and that one day we will be reunited with those dearly departed that we love.  In this week’s Gospel Jesus affirms these promises, - there is a resurrection!  However, he also warns us about, and more importantly sets us free from, undo speculation on the nature of that existence and those relationships.  He invites us into a simple promise, a promise that it will be very good, that it will be beyond our wildest imaginations.  All things will be new! “See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them; he will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away.’(Revelation 21:3-4)

 

Yes, there is a resurrection, and it will be good, very good!  However, I don’t think that’s where the gospel for this week ends!  There is a bigger question for us to consider, - what does the resurrection mean for us today? 

 

As followers of Christ, as the beloved children of God who have been united with Christ in death and raised up to life in the waters of baptism, as people of faith who do not belong to this age but to the kingdom that comes and is already present, what does it mean to belong to the resurrection - today?  What does it mean to trust in the resurrection - today?

 

The pattern of faith, faithful living, as taught to us by Christ, is a pattern of death and resurrection.

 

John 12:24-25“Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Those who love their life lose it, and those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.”

 

Luke 9:23 “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”

 

Mark 8:35“For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me and for the gospel will save it.”

 

To trust and live in the resurrection today, is to embody these teachings of Christ!

 

And that’s kind of radical.  Jesus challenges us to trust “not in the things of this world” not in money, not in power, and not in the flesh. Instead, he challenges us, just as he challenges the Sadducees, to see beyond this world, and to see instead the Kingdom of God, the Kingdom of God present right here, right now! And then, to trust in that very real and very present Kingdom; the things of God, the values of the kingdom, the power of love.  Things like loving your neighbor, caring for the poor and the needy, giving instead of taking, sacrifice instead of domination, sharing instead of hoarding, surrendering what we have for the sake of others.  Values rooted in the principles of grace, mercy, forgiveness, hope, and peace.  To trust and live in the resurrection today is to embrace these things, these things that are very different than “the things of this world. ”The kingdom and this world are very different, like apples and oranges.

 

In between the lines of this week’s gospel Christ invites us to step away from the ways of the world, the way things are, even the clear black and white of the world’s perceived reality, and instead to lay down our life, and to trust that in such a death we will be raised up into the fullness of the resurrection, a life of meaning and purpose, the life of true love, an abundant life now and forevermore.

 

I would like to end today’s sermon with a song entitled, “Lay Me Down.”  It’s a prayer, a prayer that acknowledges both the truth about “death and resurrection” and just how hard it is to trust and live in that pattern of “death resurrection” on a daily basis.  It’s not easy to trust that in death there is life, that somehow the cross invites us into life, that in dying we are truly born again.  I invite you to pray with me as I sing the song.

 

“Lay Me Down”

 

Lay me down, Lift me up into the sky

Hold me close, Let me know that this is life

Gently kiss my teary eyes

 

It’s so hard,

To step into your broken heart and believe this is love

This is love

 

Lay me down, Lift me up into the sky

Hold me close, Let me know that this is life

Gently kiss my teary eyes

 

I am frightened

Standing on the edge but in control wanting to let go

Wanting to let go

 

Lay me down, Lift me up into the sky

Hold me close, Let me know that this is life

Gently kiss my teary eyes

 

Love that gives

Begins by taking everything away, I am gone

I am gone

 

Lay me down,

Hold me close,

Gently kiss my teary eyes

 

Now I lay me down

To sleep, will I die or will I wake, I don’t know

I don’t know

 

My eyes,

My tears,

My hopes,

My fears,

I surrender

 

Lay me down, Lift me up into the sky

Hold me close, Let me know that this is life

Gently kiss my teary eyes …

 

 

 

 

 

 

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!