Sermon on John 16:12-15

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

Today is Holy Trinity Sunday, and it’s got to be one of the most confusing Sundays of the year.

After all, the Trinity isn’t something our finite human brains can fully wrap themselves around. And when we try to come up with analogies to describe the Trinity, they all fall short and can evenget us into heretical territory.

For instance, a common analogy is that the Trinity is like water: it can be in three different states (liquid, solid, or gas), but it’s the same substance. However, in general, water isn’t in all three states at once, so that’s where the analogy breaks down, because God is always Father, Son, and Holy Spirit or Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer or however we try to express the Trinity in our finite, human language.

It’s especially tricky because the Bible isn’t explicit on giving us direction about the doctrine of the Trinity. Jesus didn’t sit his disciples down one day and say, “Listen up: this is exactly how I’m related to God the Father and God the Holy Spirit.”

So, the early Church had to wrestle with what it means that Jesus was God in the flesh, and that he sent an Advocate after him, and that the Bible equates Jesus with Wisdom as described in our reading from Proverbs which says Wisdom was there at creation, and that Jesus said in the Gospel of John that he and the Father are one, and all the thorny theological questions like that.

It might sound a little nitpicky to need to pin all this down exactly, and in general, I agree. But the implications for the nature of God and God’s relationship with humanity and creation were so important that people kicked each other out of the Church over it. If you want to hear more about that, come to my study on creeds later this year – details to come.

But long story short, Christians have enacted violence and fought wars over doctrinal issues like this.

And unfortunately, violence is still carried out today by Christians in the name of God.

Our Social Justice Discussion Group is reading Seeds of Racism in the Soul of America by Paul R. Griffin, and it’s making the argument that the well-educated Puritan clergy of New England laid the theological foundations for justifying enslavement in the US.For instance, they wrote horrible things about God having created humanity with a hierarchy—no surprise who was on top and who was on the bottom, instead of God creating all humanity equally in God’s image. White Christians in the North had a huge hand in reinforcing the concept of white supremacy that still has violent effects today.

One example we remember every year occurred ten years ago this week. After sitting through the entirety of a Bible study on June 17, 2015 at Mother Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston, South Carolina, a twenty-one-year-old white man shot and killed nine Black people and injured another. He said he hoped to start a “race war.”

Our denomination remembers this event every year, because the shooter grew up in an ELCA church, and two of the people he killed, both pastors, went to an ELCA seminary.

Our denomination is implicated in numerous instances of violence justified in the name of God throughout our history.

Martin Luther, who wrote and preached beautifully about God’s grace and love and freedom, also wrote really terrible things about Jewish people. The Nazi movement used Luther’s writings to justify the Holocaust. We have to grapple with what we embrace from Luther’s work and what we denounce.

One of Luther’s more helpful teachings is that we are all simultaneously saints and sinners. We all have great capacity for loving action and great capacity for violent action.

That also affects how we view scripture. When we search the Bible, we can find individual verses and passages for pretty much whatever we’re looking for: justification for silencing women, for excluding LGBTQ people,for hating people of another racial background, for beating ourselves up for not being perfect, even for genocide.

But we can also find a beautiful love story between God and humanity that begins with God creating this beautiful universe and calling it good. We read about God over and over again calling God’s people to a more abundant and free life. We find that God met us in the flesh to expand our view of who matters and belongs to God. We see God’s Spirit continually surprising the early Church with how God is at work loving this world.

When we look beyond individual verses to the Bible’s themes of love, peace, and liberation, we can see the nature of God in the Trinity. We see that our God is relational and loving—within Godself and with allCreation.Even just in our readings today, we see beautiful aspects of God’s character.

Our reading from Proverbs shows Wisdom, associated with the second Person of the Trinity, working and playing alongside the Creator from the beginning of time and delighting in humanity.

In Romans, we read that “God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.”The Holy Spirit fills us with God’s love.

In our reading from the Gospel of John, Jesus promises that the Holy Spirit will bring truth to his disciples and alludes to a reciprocity and generosity within Godself when he says,“All that the Father has is mine. For this reason I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you.”

The Trinity is confusing, but we can glean understanding of God’s nature and character when we stop worrying about the exact mechanics of it (unless that really floats your boat, in which case, maybe come talk to me about going to seminary).

It’s good to grapple with challenging questions of faith and to dwell in the mysteries of God, but sometimes we can get caught up in the frustrations of not fully understanding and miss the beautiful truths God is offering us: we may not fully understand the Trinity, but we can marvel at our God who is relational, generous, and loving.

We can find whatever we’re looking for in the Bible, so let’s make sure we’re asking the Holy Spirit to guide us, looking for big themes in the Bible and not just individual verses, and keeping our values in mind. This congregation values service, compassion, and inclusion. This is how we feel God calling us to relate to our neighbors and with each other.

We can find these values throughout the Bible—in the Creator’s service in bringing abundant life, in Jesus’ continuous compassion throughout his ministry and beyond, and in the ways the Holy Spirit draws the circle of belonging ever bigger—beyond our wildest dreams.

Let’s hold onto these values in our life togetheras the congregation that feeds people body and soul.

Let’s remember the Emanuel Nine this week and commit to resisting the power of white supremacy wherever we find it.

Let’s celebrate Pride Month and give thanks for the many LGBTQ ancestors and current voices advocating for inclusion and belonging.

On this Father’s Day, let’s honor the positive father figures in our lives and strive to find whatever healing looks like around those who should have been positive father figures in our lives. If God the Father is a helpful image for you, may you feel safe and loved in the arms of God the Father.

And secure in the love of God the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer, may we each be fierce in our service, compassion, and inclusion.

Sermon on John 14:8-17

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

Happy Birthday, Church!

Today is Pentecost Sunday, when we remember the gift of the Holy Spirit.

We heard the traditional Pentecost reading from Acts this morning, when the Holy Spirit arrived dramatically with wind and fire and a plethora of languages.

But until that point, the disciples were kind of hanging around, trying to figure out what was next. Jesus had died, risen again, and then ascended, leaving his disciples earth-bound and confused. Now what were they supposed to do?

This morning, we also heard yet again from Jesus’ Farewell Discourse in the Gospel of John: part of his final teachings to his disciples the night before he was arrested and executed.

Jesus was about to die. The disciples didn’t really understand what was about to happen, and Philip was like, “Just show us the Father, and we’ll know we’ll be okay. We’ll finally get it and be content.”

And Jesus was like, “Are you kidding me right now? What do you think I’ve been showing you for the past three years? You’re telling me now that you don’t get what I’ve been doing all this time?”

Okay, he didn’t say any of that.

But his life with the disciples wasn’t ever going to be the same after that night. He wouldn’t be with them physically in the same way he had been. And his disciples were obviously confused and having a hard time.

What were they supposed to do now?

Instead of saying, “Are you kidding me right now?”, Jesus promised to send them another Advocate or Comforter or Intercessor (depending on the translation), the Holy Spirit who would provide some of the same functions as Jesus had been doing for them: supporting them, defending them, praying for them, directing them toward ways of being that express God’s love.

The arrival of the Holy Spirit is different in the Gospel of John than in the book of Acts, and even in the book of Acts there are numerous accounts of the Holy Spirit being poured out on different groups of people.

Every year, we read about the arrival of the Holy Spirit in the Gospel of John on the Sunday after Easter. We often focus on Thomas’s part in that story, but at the beginning it talks about the disciples having locked themselves away because they were afraid of being arrested and executed too. Jesus appeared to them in that locked room, said “Peace be with you,” and then breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit.”

We’re often so focused on the risen Jesus (understandably) that we completely overlook the Holy Spirit’s role in that story. It’s more subtle, wrapped in the mystery of the resurrection.

Whether the Holy Spirit practically blows the door down and lights people on fire or is invited in with a gentle breath and a word of peace, Jesus’ followers would never be alone, never be apart from God’s presence.

Jesus’ promise to them was fulfilled. He wouldn’t be physically there with them in the same way, but the Holy Spirit would dwell in them, guiding them, teaching them, encouraging them, and defending them as Jesus had done for them during his ministry.

Through the Holy Spirit, they would continue Jesus’ mission to share God’s love with the world.

And the Church is still doing that today.

Though, as we talked about last week, we Christians aren’t always very unified or loving.

You don’t have to spend much time studying history to find some pretty horrifying things Christians have done in the name of God.

And it doesn’t take long reading the news or scrolling through social media to find some pretty unpleasant portrayals of Christianity, and often they’re justified.

Sometimes, my first reaction to someone finding out I’m a Christian is to want to say, “No! Not like that! I’m not that kind of Christian.”[Insert whatever unflattering, small-minded, unloving stereotype I’m afraid they’re imagining.]

And then sometimes this little voice starts whispering, “You know, you’re not that great of a Christian yourself:

·       Remember that person on the side of the road that you passed without a second glance?

·       Remember when you thought such mean things about that person who drives you crazy?

·       Remember the jealousy you felt about your friend’s new home remodel?

·       Remember those questions you have about God?

·       A real Christian wouldn’t have those feelings or those kinds of doubts. You’re a fraud, and everyone’s going to find out soon.”

That voice of imposter syndrome, doubt, or self-deprecationmakes it easy to be embarrassed about one’s identity as a Christian, to stay quiet when people make assumptions about Christians, to turn inward and become small.

But that’s not what we’re called to.

Whether the Holy Spirit showed up in our readingsdramatically or quietly, the disciples were sent.Jesus sent the disciples out of the locked room where they were hiding, and after the tongues of flame appeared on people’s foreheads, the Holy Spirit moved Peter to tell stories of Jesus so that the people who heard their own languages spoken wanted to be baptized. And the movement of Jesus followers grew, and right after this we get that beautiful image of the early Church’s cooperation and abundance:

“Awe came upon everyone because many wonders and signs were being done through the apostles. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people.”[1]

As beautiful as this image is, it probably didn’t last very long. Groups of humans aren’t great at staying unified and selflessly cooperative for very long.

But God knows this and still sent the early Jesus followers, with all their flaws and failings, out into the world to share their stories of Jesus and God’s love.

And God sends us, too. God knows our flaws and failings. God knows our doubts, which I see as a sign that we’re thinking deeply about important questions. God knows our heartaches, the ways we wish we could be better, the things we beat ourselves up over, and God loves us entirely.

And God sends us out, just as we are, to share that love with others.

We don’t have to have all the answers—in fact, people tend to be suspicious of people who act like they know all the answers.

You don’t have to pretend you don’t have doubts or questions—they make you human and genuine. And the world needs more of that: people who are honest and sincere. Who wants to be around someone who thinks they’re perfect anyway?

Give me someone who’s real about their questions and quirks any time.

Give me someone who’s passionate about things. I saw a lot of passion in the Project Pacifica group discussions two weeks ago. You care about this congregation—its mission to feed people body and soul, and our future together sharing God’s love with our community.

We’re not perfect, because no one is. But we can be genuine and generous, honest and honoring of God and our neighbors.

Anytime you start hearing that sneaky little imposter syndrome whisper, tell it, “I am a child of God. God loves me, and that’s enough.”

Because, you, children of God, are exactly what the Holy Spirit has in mind for this place and this time.


[1] Acts 2:43-47a

Sermon on John 17:20-26

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

On this last Sunday of the Easter season, we’re reading the last of Jesus’ Farewell Discourse, his final teachings to his disciples before being arrested and executed.

He exhorted them to love one another, bestowed his peace on them, and closed by praying for them. Today’s reading is the end of this prayer, and he prayed for unity.

Jesus was about to die. He would not be physically present with his disciples forever to hold together the budding movement.

If, as so often happens with groups of humans, the movement splintered because of disagreements and egos and misunderstandings, what would happen to his teachings? What would be the legacy of the Jesus movement? Would people recognize them by their love for one another as Jesus taught? Would they be known for washing feet as Jesus had done for them that night?

Our reading from Acts gives us a glimpse a little into the future of the Jesus movement. We see an interesting contrast between the enslavers of the woman with the spirit of divination and the Jesus followers Paul and Silas.

The enslavers became enraged once they could no longer profit off of the enslaved woman. It says, they “saw that their hope of making money was gone,” and they “dragged” Paul and Silas in front of the authorities, accusing them of disturbing the peace and advocating unlawful customs.

What Paul and Silas had done was challenge systems that allowed humans to profit off of each other, and they were beaten and imprisoned for it.

Then, when divine provision allowed them to escape, they could have left without risking being recaptured. They would have benefited from another’s suffering, because the jailer was ready to die by suicide rather than face the consequences of having let the prisoners escape. But instead, they admitted they were still there, leaving open the possibility of recapture. And the jailer and his whole household joined the family of God.Theyshowed hospitality to Paul and Silas, and they all bonded over baptism and hospitality.

What a contrast: people who profited off others versus inclusion and communion.

That’s what the Beloved Community looks like.

The jailer and his household recognized God’s love in Paul and Silas for their integrity and respect for his humanity even at personal risk. The rewards were beautiful.

In this story, we see the realization of what Jesus was praying for: that his future followers would be united in their mission to share God’s love with others.

And also, not all the stories of Jesus followers are that positive. Christians are not always known for our love for one another.

Even in Acts, we see great conflict between Peter and Paul and the challenges facing the early Church.

Throughout Church history, Christians have fought wars with each other and against others, have enacted genocide, and have oppressed countless people, just for a few examples.

We’re not very unified, and we’re often not very loving to each other.

The professor of my History of World Christianity class in undergrad framed the course as a constant back and forth between unity and purity. Should Christians stay unified as a movement or choose the purity of theirideals, doctrines, and values?

Throughout the class,I pretty much always found myself rooting for unity and found myself frustrated by many of the things Christians have cut ties with each other over.

But as the years have gone by, I’ve seen some schisms in our own denomination and others. It’s easy for me to judge our ancestors in faith for the disagreements that caused permanent rifts among them, but it’s a lot harder when faced with the controversial conversations of our time.

It’s easy for me to root for unity when it’s not my belonging that’s being questioned.

For example, I was in college and out of my Lutheran bubble in 2009, when the ELCA voted to ordain LGBTQ folks and bless LGBTQ relationships (this was, of course, before marriages were legal).

I didn’t realize what I had missed until 2012, when I moved to the Denver area for a few months and joined a church there that had a gay pastor. It was hands down my favorite part of my life there.

The congregation also hosted a visit from the Reconciling in Christ organization. The representative was a trans woman who described how, early in her transition, she was so afraid, because people perceived her as a “man in a dress,” but church was the one place she felt safe and accepted.If only church were always like that. She’s since been ordained as an ELCA pastor, and our denomination is so much richer for it.

It was easy for me to root for unity when I didn’t see who was being excluded—the gifts we were missing out on.

Unity was impossible anyway. LGBTQ people were already in our congregations, already leaders, even if they so often didn’t get the titles that went with their leadership or had to stay closeted for their safety. “Unity” meant choosing to continue to oppress beloved siblings in Christ.

Sometimes, ironically, we have to choose between the so-called “unity” of the status quo and the expansiveness of Christ’s welcome and inclusion.

All this is to say that unity versus purity is much more complicated than I comprehended as an idealistic college student. The Christian movement has been wrestling with unity versus purity throughout its history, and it’s led to some ugly consequences.

We Christians aren’t very unified, and we’re often not very loving to one other.

Sometimes it seems like Jesus’ prayer was in vain.

And still, there are instances of unity.

The ELCA itself is a testament to branches of Christianity being reunited. Our denomination was born from Lutheran bodies merging, not splitting. Sure, there have been some splits since then, but it’s still encouraging that we have some history of cooperation.

On a larger scale, the ELCA and our Orthodox siblings are currently in conversation about the language in the Nicene Creed that caused the Church to split into Eastern and Western branches 971 years ago. This year is actually the 1700th anniversary of the Nicene Creed, so I’m putting together an educational series about our various creeds for later this year—stay tuned!One of the things we’ll talk about is the split between the Orthodox and Roman Catholic branches so many years ago and the current conversations.

As an example of interfaith cooperation, I had the great privilege of attending a Shabbat and Iftar dinner at Temple Beth Tikvah in Fullerton earlier this year, when they invited a Muslim congregation to break their fast with them one Friday evening during Ramadan. It was so beautiful to see people from the two traditions learning from one another and enjoying each other’s company.

This year, Ramadan and Passover fell pretty close to each other, and our observance of Easter coincided with our Orthodox siblings’. When there’s so much polarization and conflict in the world, those feel like encouraging signs that there’s still hope of cooperation and love in this world.

Jesus prayed for his disciples and followers to be united and for God’s love to be in us. He said this in a prayer, not as a command or exhortation. Love one another was an instruction, but being united was his prayer for us.

What if, as a sort of thank you note for that prayer, we prayed for unity, too?

Not a prayer for easy answers or false agreement or unity at the expense of those of us who are more marginalized, but a prayer for understanding, for deep dialogue, for appreciation of others’ humanity, and the humility to see things from others’ points of view even if we continue to disagree.

This is the final Sunday in Easter, but God’s resurrection power is still at work in the world, now and always. Jesus prayed for us to be unified and instructed us to love each other. We fall short of that all the time, but,

·       God still loves us (and those we disagree with),

·       Jesus is still praying for us,

·       And the Holy Spirit is still working among us to embrace the world with God’s unity and love.

Let’s pray now and let that be just the beginning of our thank you note prayer for Jesus’ prayer for us.

The Lord be with you. Let us pray.

Jesus, our crucified and risen Savior, thank you for praying for our ancestors in faith, for us, and for those who will come after us. Bring us your peace, fill us with your love, and may we be known for our love for one another and all your beloved children.Encourage us toward unity in challenging conversations, andlet us always see and value others’ humanity. Help us to love the world like you do.Bring us new life and true peace. Amen.