Love and Prayer Make a Difference

She was a mother on a mission. It didn’t matter to her that in going up to Jesus, she was breaking at least three taboos: She was gentile. She was a foreigner. And she was a woman. All of these conditions made her automatically “unclean” and should have kept her out of the house where Jesus was trying to rest. But she was driven by love. She knew, somehow, that the rabbi who healed people in miraculous ways was in that house… and there was nothing that was going to keep her out.

When I read this story – I want to cheer on this Syrophoenician woman who dares to break through all sorts of barriers for the sake of her daughter. But I have to admit that there are parts of this story that I don’t like. I wish Jesus had not called this woman a dog. Some interpreters try to soften his words and ask us to assume that Jesus is just playfully calling her a puppy – as if that makes it any better.  Some say he is testing her faith. Others remind us that in the Gospel of Mark Jesus is portrayed as a very human person who reflects the biases of the day.

And, some, like Dr. Caroline Lewis from Luther Seminary, remind us that in the Old Testament, there are times that God changes God’s mind, and it is always on the side of compassion. For example, when Moses came down from the mountain with the 10 commandments and discovered that the people were worshipping a golden calf, God was so angry that He was about to destroy them. But Moses prayed for the people and begged for compassion -– and God changed God’s mind and did not destroy them but instead showed compassion.

So, I wonder if Mark includes the exchange between the Syrophoenician woman and Jesus to show the power of love and prayer.  Jesus’ mission had originally been to the Jewish people first, but he had left the Jewish countryside and gone into the Gentile territory. Perhaps he had gone there to rest but when confronted with this mother who is so focused on her mission of love that she refuses to be put off by traditional taboos or cultural stereotypes or slurs and who instead asks for just a crumb of grace, Jesus agreed with her –and gives her so much more.

Jesus opens up his mission and ministry to include not only her and her daughter but all people. Jesus demonstrates that God’s love and grace and mercy was and is not limited by geography or politics or gender or anything else. 

The second story underscores this message. Jesus goes to the Decapolis, a city of gentiles, in an area that used to be outside of his mission. But people heard about his gift of healing and so, again, acting in love and with care, they bring to Jesus a man who could not hear or speak. Under the old cleanliness rules, this man would have been ostracized. But Jesus touches him, putting his hands in the man’s ears and on his tongue and heals him saying, “Be opened.”   Be opened. The healing power of God’s love and grace and mercy knows no bounds.

Did you notice that in both stories, the people who are boldly asking Jesus for healing are asking for someone else? In the first story it was a mother asking for a daughter. And what mother wouldn’t. But in the second story, we don’t know who is acting on his behalf but a group of anonymous people gathered and they begged Jesus to heal this man. In both cases, people acting out of love and care asked Jesus for healing on behalf of someone else and their prayers were answered. 

These two stories made me reflect on the prayers that have been made on my behalf -- especially when I was in an accident years ago that resulted in a head injury and coma. I literally could not pray for myself. But luckily for me, my mother was very much like the mother in the first story – she was persistent, and stubbornly determined to seek the health of her daughter. She not only prayed for me but she acted, enlisting the help of others both for prayer and for health care. When the doctors at the first hospital that I was in told her that my situation was hopeless and recommended that she look for a nursing home to put me in, she asked for a transfer.  Again, luckily for me, one of the members of her church was a specialist in head injury trauma and he helped direct my recovery and enlisted the help of another doctor who I later learned was not only an expert in the field but was also a missionary doctor.

I was the recipient of the love and care and prayers of my mother and so many others with prayer chains stretching all over the country as well as excellent doctors and health care. And God heard these prayers – and I was healed.

My experience emboldened my prayers when my dear college roommate, Sharon, also suffered a head injury. She too ended up in a coma in which she could not pray for herself. Her mother and father were strong Christians and just as persistent and stubbornly determined to seek the health of their daughter as my mother had been. Again, a whole host of people across the country – including me –were fervently praying for Sharon.  And yet… despite all of the prayers and supplications, Sharon died.

I was pretty frustrated that God did not answer my prayer and heal Sharon. She was just as worthy of health and healing as I was, her prayer network was at least as strong, and she was doing great work with inner city kids bringing them to the wilderness. Why did she have to die? I was incredibly sad – and angry that our prayers were not enough to summon a miracle.

Years later I visited her mother, Mary, and the conversation turned to Sharon. Mary confided that Sharon’s injury had damaged a crucial brain function and that the blood clot that burst and took Sharon’s life was a strange blessing – because she wasn’t sure Sharon would be happy living a less than full life.  I had to agree. Sharon was one who loved to live life to the fullest. I had intended to offer Mary pastoral care that day – but it was Mary who ministered to me.

I was reminded that my way is not always God’s way because I know only a part, a piece of the story. This doesn’t mean that we should not boldly ask God for what we think we and the world around us needs. We should continue to pray as passionately and as persistently as the Syrophoenician woman did. Acting in love, we should be bold in asking God for health and healing for all who are hurting.

But, as I was reminded… that God is also with us when our prayers do not get answered in the way that we want. When my cousin Steve became ill and was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, at his first healing service I held onto hope for a miraculous recovery. His pastor did too but she also prayed for healing that Steve be made whole and be at peace. After the service, there was a visible change in Steve – a sense of release and relief and peace. Steve’s healing wasn’t a return to health but he was made whole.

Brothers and sisters, friends in Christ, let us pray – boldly – for all who are hurting and in need of care. Let us also pray for those with whom we disagree. In this time in which the world and our country and sometimes even families are at odds over so many other things –I invite you to pray for those who do not see things the way that you see them. For Jesus commanded us to love God and to love our neighbor. And the best way to show love to your neighbor – all of your neighbors – is to hold them all in prayer.

The song that we are about to sing is a sung prayer for healing and health, but also for the strength to love one another and to be kind to one another. As you sing, I invite you to not only pray for others but also receive the gift of healing and wholeness from the Holy Spirit, the Healer of our every ill.

May you be filled with compassion, peace and hope. Amen.

Faith -Lilac Way Lutheran Church                 September 5, 2021           Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

Sunday | Vicar Kyle Anderson

It is really amazing when you think about the small things that can change a life.  In 2005 I graduated from law school and having previously earned my CPA license I set off for what I expected to be a career in corporate tax that would last until I progressed to an advanced age.  That fall of 2005, we had just moved into our new townhouse in St. Louis, Missouri and I had started a new job in state tax with an extensive period of travel.  I had two trips to Atlanta and I also spent three weeks in Chicago.  Then after Thanksgiving I had the privilege of three weeks on the cold and windy plains of Wichita. Of course, when I was being recruited for the position the opportunity to spend the first three weeks of December in Kansas is not something that made it into the recruiter’s flashy power point presentation.   After that assignment it was a day trip to Cape Girardeau, Missouri to count inventory on December 23 from which I did not return home until 11:00 PM.  With all of this time away from home I was pretty much exhausted when Christmas Day 2005 arrived and I knew that on the afternoon of December 25 my wife and I were preparing to drive three hours to spend Christmas night with her grandpa and extended family members.  I had so many excuses not to wake up at 6:00 AM on that Christmas morning but the Holy Spirit was working within me.  On that particular Christmas Day my home congregation was serving a free breakfast at a sister ELCA congregation in an economically depressed part of St. Louis and the leader of the group had told me that they could use some extra help since some of the regular volunteers were going to be absent due to the holiday.  I ended up joining in with others from my church to prepare and serve breakfast.  I really enjoyed myself that morning.  I am definitely not a cook as I am absolutely useless in the kitchen but I had a passion for the service that we were doing and the community that we were building.  After that first time I quickly became one of the monthly regulars and eventually I served as the lay leader of the ministry and ran it for three years.  We provided nutritious meals to those who were food insecure but most importantly this free breakfast was a place where people could gather.  Nourishment occurred not only in bodies but also in hearts and minds.  After that experience my heart was changed and I would never see the world in the same way ever again.

I took seriously the admonition from James to be a doer of the word and not merely one who hears the word.  Upon moving to the Twin Cities in 2010 to work for US Bank I plunged into a feeding ministry here and I also started volunteering extensively for other causes as well.  I even won a volunteer service award from my employer.  I was really good at doing however I was not so good at hearing.  I continued to grind out long hours in my corporate cubicle and I also could not say no to any good volunteer opportunity so I was constantly busy pushing my limits.  During these years I rarely took time to contemplate whether or not I was on a sustainable and fulfilling path in life.  Eventually I finally created some space to consider my future vocation and I slowed down enough to discern a call to ordained ministry.  When I finally took some time to hear God’s call I had some great conversations with pastors, friends, family, and even co-workers about my strengths, weaknesses, and interests.  I also started spending time contemplating my future including attending multiple discernment retreats.  Eventually I could not resist the call that I was hearing and I enrolled in seminary.  When I finally gave myself the time and space to listen to the word, I was finally able to hear the call to ordained ministry and to act on it.  By allowing myself to hear the word I became able to see that my Christian vocation had changed and that my doing of the word would now continue on in a different way.      

This call to be doers of the word is one of several moral exhortations that occur in the book of James.  This plea from James is similar to the Old Testament wisdom literature of the Book of Proverbs.  The advice to be a doer of the word is wise in that it not only benefits the world at large but also benefits each of us individually as well.  Many of us tend to be receptive to James’s call because I think that we can all agree that it is much more fun and meaningful to be a doer rather than a mere hearer.  For example, it is more fun to be out in nature than to watch a nature show on tv.  It is more fun to play a game than to watch one.  My story is just one example and your story will obviously be different than mine because everyone brings to this congregation different skills and passions.  I do think that one common element of all of our stories is that service is important in spiritual development.  The love of Christ flows into our hearts and enables our service which brings us closer to our neighbors and also brings us closer to Christ as we have a chance to see our role in building a beloved community.

The doing of the word is closely linked to the hearing of the word and this is why the author of James makes sure that the invitation to be doers of the word is preceded by the instruction to “be quick to listen, slow to speak.”  We listen to God which allows us to see God in our neighbors.  We ask the question what are the needs of this community?  There is so much to do but we also must remember to take the time to listen because through the power of listening we see the needs in our community as well as the hopes and dreams of community members.  When we listen, we hear the cries of our neighbors which includes those suffering from the lingering pandemic as well as those who are living in poverty and others who are crying out for justice.  This listening is so important to the process of doing God’s word.  We are invited to consider whether or not our actions are in line with our values and passions.  Only you can decide what motivates you to action but when we take the time to listen, we open our hearts and minds to new possibilities. 

The book of James is also quite bold and with its antagonism toward the rich and with its emphasis on repentance it calls to mind the prophets of the Old Testament.  The Old Testament prophets all possessed a passion for making the world a better place which they share with the author of James.  If we all take the opportunity to hear the word and to be doers of the word then we can begin to imagine how magnificent our world can be.  People from different religious traditions dedicating themselves to action formed by faith would be a very significant first step toward creating a world where justice and peace are universal.  As we read in verse 27 the result of hearing and doing the word is a society which reflects the love of Christ for all people.  It is a society where the orphans and widows are no longer in distress.  It is a community where Christ’s love permeates every part of our existence.  Hearing the word and doing the word is the manner in which God’s creatures become co-creators with God in making all things new.    

I am excited to serve Faith-Lilac Way in the coming year.  As the new intern I am looking forward to hearing the word with you as well as being a fellow doer of the word with you.  There are so many concerns on the local, national, and global levels that are worthy of our attention.  Recently, Faith-Lilac Way and its members generously supported NEAR Food Shelf by collecting school supplies.  In just two weeks there will be an opportunity for members of Faith-Lilac Way to again be doers of the word.  On Saturday September 11 we will be participating in the God’s Work Our Hands event at Holy Nativity which involves the collection of food to help the Every Meal program as well as service projects to help Lutheran World Relief, Lutheran Social Services, and Bread for the World.  This is just one of the many opportunities that are available to be doers of the word.  My hope is that together we will both hear the word to discern our call to serve and then engage in acts of love and service that make our community, nation and world a better place for all of God’s children.     

 -Vicar Kyle Anderson

“Lord to whom can we go?” “As for me and my house… we will trust the Lord.”

Times were tough. There was very little health care – and what they had was mostly quackery. No insurance. Taxes were exorbitant. But then along comes Jesus, a rabbi who not only heals the sick and makes the blind to see but also feeds the hungry with an abundance of food. There were even leftovers. Of course, people flocked to him. Lots of people wanted to be his disciples.  But when Jesus started teaching about who he is and invited them eat his flesh and blood, and to abide in him and letting him abide in them... well…these images were, frankly “tough to swallow.” They complained, “This teaching is difficult, who can accept it?” Many people left.

Following Jesus was not easy then… and it isn’t always easy now. We have been living in a tough time. The coronavirus has killed over 3 million people and sickened far more… and now the pandemic statistics seems to be ramping up again with the Delta virus. I am weary of it. But worse yet, instead of coming together on this, our country and our world is divided -- about this and lots of other things. It is easy to wonder – where is God in all of this? Has God forgotten about us? Some people may think so – and have given up on God – or at least on the church.

When things got tough and some followers started to leave, Jesus asked the twelve, “Do you also wish to go away?”

But Peter responded: “Lord to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”

“Lord, to whom can we go? … We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”

The disciples had come to a crossroad. Do they abandon Jesus and their faith in him or do they follow – even though they don’t know what lies ahead? The people of Israel were at a similar crossroad before they crossed the Jordan river into the Holy Land. They knew what lay behind them. They did not know what lay ahead. Joshua asked them to choose – are they with him – or were they going a different way? He told them his choice – as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord. And the people agreed. Even though they did not know what lay ahead, they would trust in God.

There are times in our lives when we are challenged. Sometimes our faith is challenged especially when the bottom falls out of the life that we knew or thought we knew - a loved one dies unexpectedly, a fire or flood takes away our savings, a pandemic disrupts our life and the life of the whole world… and just when we thought we were over this coronavirus… it’s back… in a new variation.

It is times like these that we – as the people of God – need one another and we need to support one another even if we don’t always agree on everything. As a community of Christ, we are like a braided rope – each one supports the other and the Holy Spirit supporting us all. As it says in Ecclesiastes a cord of three strands is not easily broken. In challenging times, we need one another to help each other hold on to and trust in the promises of God and to simply move forward in faith.  

Sometimes we have experiences that help put this into perspective. This summer I took a backpacking trip to the Bob Marshal Wilderness. I had been there before and an old knee injury had acted up and so one of my teammates ended up carrying my pack for the last mile one day because I just couldn’t carry it any further.

This time, there were just two of us going. We packed smarter and lighter and trained harder and even practiced spraying an old can of bear spray. When it was time to go, I felt much better prepared.

But you can’t prepare for everything. One day our goal was to reach the alpine lake, Lake Leval. We knew it would be a stretch so we had a backup goal that was closer.  According to our map there was a little pond at the foot of the North Wall… a great mountain range that is part of the Rocky mountains. As I walked, I imagined this alpine pond glistening in the woods just a little further on… But while the distance measured as the crow flies was only a few clicks away – a click is the backpacker’s term for a kilometer – this did not take into account switch backs – going back and forth and up and then down and then back up the mountainside.  Nor did it account for the intense heat of the middle of the day. Finally… we got there! But the pond had dried up. There was only a little trickle of water and no place to camp. We filled up our water bottles, and, disappointed, trudged on. But I found myself walking slower and slower. Finally, as I started to trip over my own feet, I realized I had to just sit down. So we rested for a time and when we looked up, we saw three trees that would be a perfect spot to hang our hammock tent.

It wasn’t the place we were looking for – but that mountainside became our refuge that night, a place to rest and to rejuvenate.  As I looked around the huge mountains around me – I felt very small but not alone. I was struck by the grandeur of the mountains, and, like Peter, I stopped trusting in my own strength. With the Psalmist I prayed: “I look to the hills – from where will my help come?” My help comes from the Lord who made heaven and earth.” 

Again, there is something about wilderness that puts life into perspective. This year’s mission trip wasn’t the one that they had planned last summer to New York City. That trip – like so many other things --- was cancelled because of the pandemic. So instead of the windy city – the youth went to Wilderness Canoe Base – also windy but a completely different experience.  Like Peter, they had some things to wrestle with – and like Peter, they learned some things about themselves and about God. 

What happens when you put a bunch of great youth in canoes in the Boundary waters with wonderful leaders and good guides trained in both leading Bible studies and in leading canoe trips? Amazing things. God’s creation inspires wonder and awe – even when there are hard and challenging experiences along the way.  And… when you invite the Holy Spirit into the conversation it’s hard to say what will happen –-- but it will be good.  Thanks be to God! Amen.

August 22, 2021             Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran                  Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

Love Gift

Have you ever walked into a house and were greeted by the smell of warm bread fresh out of the oven? Mmm. I remember waiting, as a child, to see what my mother or grandmother would pull out of the oven – would it be a loaf of bread or rolls? I always hoped that it would be rolls – because then, usually, I could taste one while it was still warm.

There is something special about bread. Every culture has a bread or bread-like staple. And I have learned to not only enjoy the recipe for fresh wheat bread that my mother passed on to our family and the lefse recipe from my grandmother but also tortillas, naan, pita and rice cakes and even gluten free crackers. It seems that bread is not just food – it is an essential part in our lives.

This was true for people in Jesus’ day too. Today’s Gospel comes after Jesus fed 5000 men – not even counting women and children – with one boy’s lunch of bread and fish.

After Jesus did that – everyone wanted more. “Fill us with this bread” they cried. This bread – miraculous bread, abundant bread --- reminded people very much of the bread from heaven that their ancestors ate when Moses led their people through the wilderness. The sweet taste of bread combined with the miracle of abundance where there was enough for all and leftovers too. They wanted more of that kind of bread. And Jesus has more to give. But Jesus is not interested in simply creating a free bakery out on the shores of the Galilee.

Instead, later, when he is teaching in the synagogue, Jesus proclaims: “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.” Jesus not only offers bread for lunch – but sustenance enough to satisfy you for a lifetime.

He got some push-back for those statements. I mean they must have been thinking “what kind of bread is that? What water can sustain you so that you are never thirsty on a hot summer day?”

But rather than explain, Jesus surprises them by saying: “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life… for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink.”

For us who are reading this story many years after Jesus’ resurrection and who are part of the Christian faith, we can see clearly the connection between Jesus’ statements – shocking at the time – and our own practice of Holy Communion and hearing Jesus’ words: “This is my body – given for you. This is my blood – shed for you.” But at the time, one of the things that had set the Jewish people, Jesus’ faith community, apart from pagans was their strict dietary laws. They would have been horrified to hear a rabbi is talking about drinking his blood and eating his flesh. That sounded to them like the pagan rituals that they had worked so hard to condemn. And in fact, in the church’s early years, some Roman leaders persecuted Christians in part because they thought Christians were cannibalistic.

Every Gospel tells the story about Jesus’ miracle of feeding a crowd with just some bread and fish and prayer – but the Gospel of John is different from the others.

We begin the Gospel of John by being introduced to Jesus not as a baby or at his baptism but as present at the very beginning of creation. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” But these ethereal beginnings change very soon and we read: “the Word became flesh and lived among us.” Jesus lived like us. And then, throughout the Gospel, Jesus proclaims who He is by using a variety of ordinary images. Jesus says, “I Am the Door”; “I Am the Gate”, “I Am the Good Shepherd.” And in today’s Gospel Jesus proclaims: “I Am the bread of life.” Each of these metaphors are meant to open up people then and now to receive the gift that Jesus is giving to us and to the world.

A few years ago, author, pastor and speaker Gary Chapman defined “The 5 Love Languages” in a book by the same name. He suggested that people prefer to receive love in one of five ways – through words of affirmation, quality time, acts of service, physical touch or by receiving gifts.1 Based in part from his work as a marriage therapist, he suggested that, to build relationships, people pay attention to the way that those that they love want to receive love.

So that makes sense, but I’m not sure if God has a preferred love language for receiving love. However, God’s love language for giving love to God’s people throughout the Bible always seems to include a feast.

Providing food and drink – especially an abundance of good food – may be the ultimate love language because it includes all 5 of the “love languages.” (1)An act of service was performed in the making of the food, (2) we receive a word of affirmation – you are invited to the table, (3) to time together, (4) to enjoy physical presence, and of course, enjoy (5) the gift of food.

Throughout God’s history with God’s people, God invites us to a banquet, as Wisdom proclaims: “Come and eat of my bread and drink of the wine that I have mixed.” And, as we sang in the Psalm: we are invited to: “Taste and see the goodness of the Lord.” God’s gift of food and drink that we can touch and see and taste is a gift of love in any language. And, it is given for you.

This is a love language that we know and practice. It’s been harder in the pandemic when we didn’t know what was safe or healthy to share. But the giving of food to those who are hungry and to those who are hurting is a love language that we know how to do.

For example, during the pandemic, one of my neighbors, I’ll call him John, was diagnosed with throat cancer. His wife put out a caring bridge site. As friends and neighbors, we wrote words of encouragement and lifted him up in prayer as they began scary treks to the hospital for Chemo even when covid was raging. And then, one of our neighbors decided to start a “meal train.” The spots filled up quickly. When it was finally my turn, I asked his wife what John could still eat. I had noticed there were some pretty gourmet meals coming their way. But what John really wanted was some good ol’ chicken soup. And so that day, my love and care showed up as an ordinary bowl of chicken soup. That was my love gift to them.

And I know that you have done the same – time and again… when you hear that someone is hurting or there is a death in the family… hotdishes start to arrive. Other people bring cookies. A feast is spread. When a college student goes off to college and you know that they are facing some tough finals – somehow a care package arrives stuffed with love deliciously disguised as cookies. You know this love language that shows up packaged in cupcakes and cookies, hotdishes and sandwiches and in bread and wine.

This is the love language that Jesus was speaking on those Galilean hills as he provided bread and fish and this is the language that he was speaking when he proclaimed in the synagogue and in churches then and now; I am the bread of life. This is my body. This is my blood. Take and eat. This is given for you. I have come so that you may have life and have it abundantly. I love you. This is most certainly true. Amen.

Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran Church August 15, 2021 Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

1 Gary Chapman, The 5 Love Languages as cited in: https://www.huffpost.com/entry/most-common-love-language_n_5b4f906be4b0b15aba8b1d2c

What does it mean to live in Christian community?

After college, I joined Lutheran Volunteer and was excited to spend a year exploring intentional Christian community with four other recent college grads in Milwaukee. We were all Christians –the four women who had strong Lutheran backgrounds – one was the daughter of a missionary, another was the daughter of a pastor, one was applying to Seminary the next year and then there was me. Bob – the lone man in the house, was an easy-going Catholic man of strong faith. We had all committed ourselves to live simply, work for social justice and live in Christian community. Our jobs were social justice oriented – everything from working with Lutheran Social Services to working with an organization that helped people who had been in prison get a new start in life. And they didn’t pay us much – so we were forced to live simply. But…when our first meal together as a “Christian Community” ended with two of the women arm wrestling after a dispute – it turned out that living in Christian community – the piece that I thought would be the easiest – was going to be our biggest challenge.

And we are not the only ones. Scholars have argued that the letter to the Ephesians was written not only to the people in Ephesus, but as a word of encouragement to Christian communities everywhere on how to live together, as one community in Christ. Because… it isn’t always easy.

The people of Ephesus and other new Christian communities had heard the good news – Christ has risen! And they had joined in the proclamation, “Christ has risen indeed.” They had heard Jesus’ promise of everlasting life – but they needed to learn how to live into this life, a life imitating God’s way.. Some of the old rules that they had grown up with – including some cultural habits that had kept people apart -- didn’t apply anymore. Instead, in Christ, “There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all.” God’s people were now Jewish and Gentile people, Greeks and Romans, men and women and children too.

The challenge became how to live into that calling of life together, respecting, loving and caring for one another.

I’d love to be able to say that after receiving this letter, the church in Ephesus and everywhere else became an example for the world on how to live together as followers of Christ. But, unfortunately, the church is made up of flawed and broken people – people like me and you that aren’t perfect, who don’t always say the right things and who sometimes solve their squabbles with arm wrestling – or worse.

In Holy Rover, our book club book for this month, the author writes about that the Iona community first began in the year 563 after a monk, Columba, had a squabble with the established church over an unauthorized copy that he had made of the scriptures. It resulted in a civil war. He was banished from England and told to paddle until he could not see his homeland anymore. He landed on what is now the Scottish island of Iona. With the help of likeminded monks, he built a monastery in the midst of a community that had never heard about Jesus. But perhaps he learned something in his journey from his old home to this new place because instead of fighting against or preaching at their neighbors, Columba instructed his fellow monks to create “colonies of heaven,” realizing that other people would be drawn to their community more by how they lived than by what they preached.1

This letter to the Ephesians is, in part, meant to encourage new converts to change their lifestyle to reflect their newfound faith in Christ. But this encouragement to healthy living is not unique to Christianity. Other cultures and faiths also encourage people not to steal or to act in corrupt ways but instead to speak the truth and to let their actions speak louder than their words.

But what Ephesians reminds us is why we are to act differently than others. We are all one in Christ Jesus. Therefore, because we are part of one another, we are urged not to let the sun go down on our anger but instead to resolve or at least address issues of injustice or hurt or harm. As Cologna and his fellow monks learned, a dispute can lead quickly to violence. But because we are all one in Christ and bound together in Christ, we are encouraged to “speak the truth in love” – not to win an argument and not to score a point against another. Instead, we are to speak the truth in love for the sake of building up one another and building up the body of Christ. For, we are joined together as one – one in Christ.

Today we will be building up the body of Christ by welcoming Sutton Rose as a child of God, an heir with us of God’s kingdom. And we welcome her parents and godparents who will also be striving to build up the body of Christ as they promise Sutton that they will teach her about the love of God for her just as other people did for them.

One of those people who shared the love of God with them was Sutton Rose’s great grandmother, Diane Carlson – who has since joined the saints in heaven. Diane was a beloved member of this congregation for many years and a great example to me of someone who lived out her faith joyfully – whether as a Christian clown or as a Sunday School teacher or as witness of God’s love in her ordinary life.

Living as a witness of Christ’s love and building up the body of Christ is not always easy. Challenges come our way. Maybe it’s a health condition for you or someone you love. Add to that concerns about little ones or parents or your work or maybe just the challenges of living in our world today. On top of that, add the coronavirus and the ever changing news. It’s easy to get overwhelmed. But whatever challenges come your way, be reminded of this: you are God’s beloved child and together, we are the body of Christ. Together, we can seek to “be imitators of God, as beloved children and live in love as Christ loved us.” Ephesians 5:2 Thanks be to God!

Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran Church Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

1Excerpt From: Lori Erickson. “Holy Rover.” Apple Books. https://books.apple.com/us/book/holy-rover/id1272912113

To Weed or Not to Weed?

In the parable of the weeds, the line that perplexes me the most is when the householder says to his servants, “Let both of them (the weeds and the wheat) grow together until the harvest.” (Matt 13:30) “Let both of them grow together until the harvest.”

The disciples, too, would have had every reason to be confused by this command. In ancient Israel, the weeds of which the parable speaks were more than just a nuisance. They were toxic, look-a-like stalks that intermingled with good grain, stealing moisture and nutrients from the earth, choking out edible plants, threatening the harvest…food for hungry mouths.

As Jesus himself explains, the weeds are evildoers, sown by none other than the devil.

So, one can imagine an ancient farmer remarking: What a crazy plan? Why not pluck the bad weeds from the field for the good of the harvest?

Early Jewish audiences, anxious and divided themselves, must have been equally befuddled by Jesus as they zealously pursued who the true disciples of Jesus were, and who were not.

We too might wonder, in our world so beset by the toxic weeds of racism, injustice, violence, and the unrelenting virus, why Jesus appears to be telling us to quote “let go, and let God”? Must we just sit on our hands and wait on God’s promise of divine justice in the hereafter? I’m not sure I’m that patient; there is a lot of weeding to be done out there.

But for some reason, in this parable, on this day, Jesus challenges us to wait. To pause. To be cautious in all of our gathering and plucking of the weeds.

Truth be told, even as you and I hope and pray to be the good seeds in this story, identified by Jesus as the children of God, we can probably admit to spending a fair amount of time and energy on the gathering and plucking of weeds.

For no matter who we are or where we sit, we label and judge in our own right, pinpointing our enemies with precision, disassociating ourselves from those whom we fear, excluding those who unsettle us or challenge our world views.

I wish we didn’t, but we often do. We ‘other’, we rant, we unfriend, we dismiss, divide, and cast aside. We are human after all, and our brains are hardwired to spot and respond to danger. We think we have eyes trained to see the enemy, so we gather up the weeds and “pitch them into the trash” where “we can be done with them.” (Matt 13:40-43, MSG)

But here we find the incredible challenge within this puzzling parable. Because Jesus says no, not today. This is not your job today.

In other places in the Bible, and on other days, Jesus sends us out into a hostile world, hearts a-blazing, with a purse, bag, and even a sword. (Luke 22:35-38)

But in this moment, on this day, as difficult as it might be, Jesus says:

Breathe, be, and let be.

Look down at where you are planted. Feel security in in the way your thick roots descend into this deep earth. Drink and be renewed by the waters that the sky opens up above you. Feed to your heart’s content from soil that is rich and good and true love.

Do not fear those who surround and press into you. Let them be.

God will make things right.

The thing about the ancient weeds in our parable is that they looked so similar to growing wheat that it was very difficult, especially to the untrained eye, to separate them from wheat until they were fully matured. Weed pluckers, even those with the best of intentions, would uproot and damage the promise of good wheat without knowing the difference.

I wrote part of this sermon from my gazebo, outside in our backyard, and as I pondered the meaning of this parable, I was reminded of my own very unkempt backyard. Some of you know that gardening is not my thing, folks. Whatever the opposite is of a green thumb, that’s what have. I really wouldn’t know a bush from a shrub, an annual from a perennial, a flower from a weed.

A couple years ago, my husband spent a lot of time preparing a plot for vegetables and herbs and arranging a pretty garden fence right outside my window. But despite all our time and togetherness at home over the last year, we have done nothing with it. And it’s become a mangey, prickly, prolific mess of weeds; its literally bursting out of the same fence that once contained such pristineness.

This week I called out to Dave in the kitchen, “Do you see all the beautiful daisies we have growing out there?” “Those are just weeds,” he said. I was disappointed by his answer, but then he added, “Do you see how happy the butterflies and bees are out there now?” I went outside to take a closer look, and indeed they were.

And I had this thought that maybe this weed garden I was unintentionally cultivating was telling me something important about God’s promises.

Jesus knows that our eyes are untrained, and so today he asks us to pause and let go of the fears that compel us to cut things down and cut people off. He asks us to try to be together, to forgive one another, (yes, to suffer one another), to grow together. 

This is not passivity or complacency. But the most difficult kind of work, born only of faith in the promise of true love. Jesus knows that our best work as a community of faith will come not from a place of anxiety or unrest or of rooting out, but from a place where we feel deeply grounded in him.

As I think about my year of internship, perhaps one of the strangest years to be a pastoral intern, I think about this congregation and its graciousness, both to me and my family (we were unknowns to you, of course, at the start), and I also think about your tenderness with one another as we have steered through unchartered waters. Most of all, I thank you for this beautiful example of a community in Christ that tries to offer opportunities to everyone to serve, a community that tries not to uproot difference but to accept people for who they are, a community that tries to look honestly within to see all the things, weeds and wheat, that are growing there. And then to pause and pray about it.

This is our calling, dear church. To be that place, perhaps the only place left in our world, where all can gather without condemnation and judgment, where all can plant roots, where all can pray and develop and grow the good in ourselves, in others, and in the world.[1] 

You, my friends, are whole. You are wheat. You are rooted in Christ, known and loved beyond measure. May you be nourished, may you stand tall, and may you grow into the messy and tender work of your baptism together.

 Peace be with you, now and always.

 Amen.

Vicar Kristin Dybdal Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran Church August 1, 2021

[1] This paragraph was inspired by a beautiful prayer of confession on Matthew 13:24-30 that I came across by Moira Laidlaw, available here: https://www.liturgiesonline.com.au and also at https://re-worship.blogspot.com/search/label/Proper%2011%20A

Fed and Satisfied

A Homily on John 6:1-21

This morning I want us to try to imagine what it means to be full and satisfied, like the people in our gospel story today who were fed by Jesus. And I will start by imagining what being satisfied is NOT.

Have you ever finished a full dinner, settled into your nightly routine, maybe you read a little, or watched a little TV, and just when it is time to turn in for bed yourself, you think…I need something. Is it something to eat? Is it something to drink? I don’t know exactly what it is…I just need something. Maybe it is salt…so you eat a small bowl of chips and salsa. That’s a good start, you think, but it doesn’t really satisfy you. Maybe cold and sweet is the way to go. Maybe my body is craving calcium? You rummage in the freezer and find a little vanilla ice cream. It’s pretty good, but no, that’s not quite it either. Chocolate, you think, your body must need chocolate. Unfortunately, the only chocolate in the house is in the kids’ Halloween buckets from last October, but you are desperate, so you go there. You really go there. It’s been only 10 minutes, you’ve consumed a lot of calories in those 10 minutes, and you are no closer to contentment than you were when you started your late-night adventure in the kitchen. In fact, you feel pretty lousy when you get to bed. And you don’t sleep well, either.

What is going on here? Why can’t we just be satisfied?         

I think this late-night kitchen phenomenon is probably a good illustration for what plays out in our society, at times, too. Think about fast-food chains that ask us if we would like to “super-size” whatever we have ordered. We reply, of course we do! Because a regular-sized portion would leaving us wanting for more. We call our first home a starter home and we trade it in for a better model as soon as we can float a higher mortgage payment. We pursue that promotion—which always comes with an increase in stress in our lives too—because it comes with a better paycheck. And then we can cash flow a bigger mortgage, a buy another, bigger and better house, and then, what? Go for another promotion?

 It’s an endless cycle, really, isn’t it? Just like late-night foraging for food in the fridge.

I’m not immune to these cycles, these periods of discontent, these periods of looking for something more, whatever it may be. I wonder if you have gone through similar times in your lives too.

So that is why, as I think about living in a world that always seems to be searching for something else, today’s Gospel from John makes me pause. Because as much as it is a story about Jesus miraculously multiplying the bread and fish for the crowd, it is also a story about people who are looking for something, people who finally encounter Jesus, people who are so satisfied with the bounty of what they have been fed, that they have leftovers for others.

Let’s step back into this well-loved story for a minute. We are right to be amazed at how Jesus fed five thousand people with just five barley loaves and two fish. Just think about that: five thousand men and women and children, moving toward Jesus and his disciples, following Jesus because they have seen the signs he was doing for the sick. And Jesus knew all along what would happen next: he would invite them all to sit down on the grass and be fed in God’s abundance, using only what a small boy in their presence had to offer. A supernatural feeding, as one commentator put it.

 Abundance—all that food, from so little, to feed so many—this is the miracle I usually see in this story. But today, I see something else to marvel over, something else to ponder: people being satisfied. People being content with what they have received, so much so that a great amount is left over. John’s Gospel says that Jesus himself distributed the bread and the fish to the hungry people sitting on the grass, and that they received as much as they wanted and were satisfied, leaving baskets of leftovers: 12 baskets of leftovers, in fact. I wonder what that was like. It sounds so different than the story of my late-night wandering into the kitchen, doesn’t it?

 Just like the great crowd following after Jesus in our story, we too have great needs, and sometimes we don’t even know what they are.

 But therein comes a pearl of truth within today’s story.

Jesus knows all about us, each and every one of us, and what we need when we approach him. And, it is his presence itself, his essence, which is the only thing that can satisfy, the only thing that can fill us up. Only this Bread of Life, can satiate and give way to such contentment, such wholeness, that you and I can’t help but to offer up the excess for others. What is left over is also abundant and remains, available for others. For just like the 12 baskets of leftovers in the story, no amount of the Bread of Life, the very presence of Jesus, will go to waste.

 I invite you now to imagine a time in your life when you felt so fed, so satisfied, so whole, that you had so much left of yourself to give. Imagine that time, and that place. What do you see? Who do you see? What do you feel? What do you hear? Can you taste the Bread of Life?

Maybe you are in this place now, maybe you are not. If not, what would it take to return, even for just a moment?

Last week, I, along with a fantastic group of kids and chaperones, ventured into the Boundary Waters Canoe Area for some leave no trace camping, canoeing, and fellowship. There were some tough moments for most of us – paddling for hours in the hot sun looking for campsites; carrying heavy packs and canoes through difficult portages; acclimating to life in the woods without creature comforts like clean clothes, comfy places to sit and sleep, running water and toilets. One day we decided to stay over one extra night at our campsite and take a short paddle to a beautiful waterfall for lunch and bible study. We sat in this heavenly little nook for some time, listening to the rush of the water, marveling at all the life we could see, above ground and under in the water below. Many of us remarked at how we could feel God in this serene place. We could sense the abundance of God’s love for all of creation and our part in that good creation.

I wonder if that is some of how the five thousand felt as they feasted on the bread and fish provided by Jesus on that day. Perhaps, they were, like us, fed and satisfied, not looking back or forward, but fully present and content, aware in that moment of the abundance of God’s unfailing love.    

Will you pray with me?

Jesus, help us to come seek you where you may be found. Satisfy us with your love and presence. We search for so many things in our lives, Jesus, that sometimes, we forget that we need you the most. Grant to us an awareness that you are the Bread of Life; that you are all the nourishment we truly need; that when we trust in your promises, we are filled to the brim and there is always extra to share.

 In your most holy name we pray, Amen.

Vicar Kristin Dybdal                          Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran Church                       July 25, 2021

Fearlessly Sent

Texts: Psalm 23,  Mark 6:30-34, 53-56     

Prayer of the Day: Shepherding God, you call us into a rhythm of work and rest that our lives may be better for it. So shape our leisure and our labor that the world will recognize us as Jesus disciples and our ministry as what you would have us do. Amen.

Grace and Peace to you from the God who believes in you, and sends you into the world.

On a beautiful fall day in Issaquah, Washington I stood on a Maple leaf with both feet – and to my surprise and delight I could still see the leaf! My feet are size 7 which is not too small, but In that moment, standing on that large leaf in Surrounded by the Olympic mountains I felt really Small and Insignificant in a really Big world.

At 22 years old I wondered IF my life mattered. Maybe its more accurate to say I wondered HOW my little life might matter in this BIG WORLD? 

In a biology class I learned about the inter-related and inter-dependent nature of all of life which was like a beautiful spider web of connection which existed within my human Body AND among other species in all kinds of Environments.  

On this day, I was Pondering my life path and Wondering where was my Niche in the Web of Life? What should I do for a career? My Lutheran faith weighed in with its own question: What work had God uniquely created me to do that I had not yet discovered or claimed as my vocation? 

Sonja, My first roommate in college said that she knew at the age of 5 that she wanted to be a doctor, specifically, a surgeon. I was astonished at the clarity of her conviction. By comparison, my life seemed to unfold in a series of happy and sometimes unhappy events and relationships that seemed kind of random, but somehow flowed from one to another.  I sensed a deep goodness in my somewhat random life, even as I envied the direct clarity in career path of my roommate.  

Psalm 23 talks about being led by a Shepherd God on paths ~even where there is no visible path, through green pastures and dark valleys, with surprising banquets of nourishment when surrounded by enemies; that life flows as living water, through all life’s twists and turns, full of the goodness and mercy of God.   

I wonder if the apostles in today’s gospel reading experienced a kind of shepherding presence and over flowing goodness in life as they traveled in pairs throughout the wilderness without Jesus at their side? I wonder if they discovered in themselves and in their partners, skills and knowledge they had no idea was within them?

When the apostles returned from their travels, they gathered around Jesus to share “all they had done and taught” (Mark 6:30). I imagine them learning from one another and laughing together. I wonder if they discovered in themselves and in each other well springs of living water that refreshed their weary bodies, and a comfort in each other’s presence that restored their souls? I wonder if in their conversation they discovered different ways their simple words and actions had healing effects for the people they encountered~ healing they could not have imagined possible? I wonder if a sort of cosmic web of connection was being spun among them, Each apostle’s story as a connecting thread knitting them together, creating connections of collegiality, friendship, admiration; becoming courageous together.

I wonder if they only told their success stories? Or if they told their stories of failure too? I wonder who might have been the first one to muster up the courage to go first in sharing a struggle or failure from their journey? I believe someone must have dared to share their struggle because we see and experience evidence of that trajectory today:  that sharing our struggles, and bearing one another’s burdens is some of the best healing work we do as church for one another and in the world.

Psalm 23 bears witness to the presence of God in times of struggle in this way: “though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…I will fear no evil, for you are with me” (Ps 23:4). The psalmist proclaims to you and me that we are not alone amid life’s struggles. There is a SHEPHERDing God who cares for you and for me and God has placed us together in a Forgiven and Forgiving Flock. We grow in faith as we TRUST that we are not alone in any moment. As an apostolic church, sent by God we are emboldened to pray:  

“O God, you have called your servants to ventures of which we cannot see the ending, by paths as yet untrodden, through perils unknown. Give us faith to go out with good courage, not knowing where we go, but only that your hand is leading us and your love supporting us; through Jesus Christ our Lord”. (ELW Evening Prayer)

I wonder as the apostles shared their successes and struggles if they were becoming fearless in ways they had not known themselves to be fearful before Jesus sent them out?  I imagine in the conversation they reflected on what happened as they faced what was unknown and uncertain – like, how did they know which way to go in the sprawling wilderness before them? And Who could they trust would provide food and shelter on their journey? Jesus sent them with no provisions of their own. They were utterly vulnerable. Jesus sent them out to rely on the kindness of strangers.  I imagine Jesus believed in the apostles as much or more than the apostles believed in Jesus. Jesus fearlessly sent the apostles into the world, reminding them, do not fear. 

I wonder if the apostles felt led and provided for in some divine way, like the Psalmist described – as if somehow Jesus was with them: nudging them in the direction to go, giving them knowledge and skill to meet the overwhelming needs of people surrounding them, and having their own needs met by the kindness of strangers and enemies.  I wonder, How has God guided and provided for you in life?  

When I was growing up, my family would share about the struggles and successes of the day around the kitchen table at dinner time. Mom and Dad would ask us how was our day – and each of us would tell about our classes in school, music lessons and sports teams, the drama and adventure of our friend groups. Mom and Dad would share about their day, about extended family and current events. We wondered together about paths untrodden too – what would we do when we grew up? Where is the world headed? At the kitchen table we were fed not only by the food we shared but also in the conversation and reflections of each member of our family. The kitchen table was a place of rest and refreshment from the busy-ness of each day.   

In the midst of all the going and doing, Jesus invites the apostles to “come away and rest awhile” returning them and us to the divine rhythm of God in creation who also created rest and God rested, reflecting on all that is good in creation.

I wonder if resting in God’s presence with one another can make us fearless to do the work God calls us to do? When I rest, I notice my breathing gets fuller, and my body expands in a sense of gratitude for the goodness of life, even amidst the struggles and challenges. In this place of rest and deep gratitude new ideas come to mind. Ideas about adventures or solutions to problems that had stumped me. It is almost as if these ideas emerge like a green blade rising out of that place of rest of buried grain of worry and struggle.

I wonder if Jesus is training us as the apostolic church, sent into the world, to be fearless:  To trust God’s goodness and mercy to follow us – actually PURSUE us even in the fiercest and most fearful moments in life?

I wonder what it would be like to be fearless church?  For that seems to be the gospel invitation, in following Christ who equips and sends us (you and me) into the world to discover the ways our skills and abilities our very being contributes to the healing of our neighbors and the world we live in. what if we knew ourselves to be powerful in ways we have not yet imagined or discovered? What could we try, who might we become, fearlessly trusting God to lead and guide us?

 In a letter to the early Christian church, the writer of Thessalonians proclaimed:

“The one who calls you is faithful and he will do this.” (1 Thessalonians 5:24).    

And may the peace of Christ that passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds fearless in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

- Pastor Gretchen Pierskalla

Chosen – Every Time Ephesians 1:3-14

I love comedies, even the ones that I think are brilliant but actually flop at the box office. About ten years ago, a film called “The Guilt Trip” came out about an overbearing Jewish mother played by Barbara Streisand and her son played by Seth Rogen, as they embark on an unexpected cross-county road trip together, getting on one another’s nerves but also growing in the process.

 At one poignant moment in the movie, Streisand turns to the son, an organic chemist, and blesses him with these words: “Just remember one thing,” she says. “If all the little boys in the world were lined up, and I could only pick one to be my son, I would pick you…every time.”

 To be chosen, every time. After all these years, I still hold on to these words of fierce, motherly love. What would the world be like if each and every one of us knew we were claimed by a love like this?

 Years ago, as I looked down upon my own babies and finally understood the depths of loving another, I often wondered: if I am capable of this kind of love, how much more must God love them? How much more must God love me? How much more must God love us?

 The writer of Ephesians, perhaps the apostle Paul writing from prison or one of Paul’s later followers, in one, long, tumbling Greek sentence helps to answer this question.

 The message to early believers, at its core, is, “You, too!”[1] “You, too, belong in Christ’s family!” “Indeed, you are chosen…every time!”

 Imagine Jews and Gentiles of the ancient world, hearing these affirming words of the early church, each in their own contexts and with their own particularities, being invited and included into this new movement of God to bring all people into unity under Christ.

 You, too. In Christ, you are chosen, every time.

 This is a hard concept for many of us, me included, to accept. Culturally, we are hard-wired to believe we need to do something or be something to deserve love. We live in a world where being chosen for something tends to mean more about our individual selves – something we have, or have done, or have achieved – rather than about the one who chooses us.

 ·         A teenager gets chosen for an elite hockey team because of her skill, her hard work, and her command performance during tryouts.

·         A wealthy investor is chosen to be president of a board because of his access to capital and his connections to influential people.

·         A kindergartener is chosen to be the lead in the school play because of his outgoing nature and obvious talent.

  We are used to associating being chosen with some special quality we have or something special we have done! But in the many stories of God choosing people in the Bible – whether it is Miriam, Abraham, Sarah, Deborah, David, Jeremiah, Esther, Peter, or Paul– the way God goes about choosing people is fundamentally different. Almost always, God chooses people not for their faultless characters, nor their accomplishments, nor their potential, but because they are open to the witness of God.[2] Because they are open to the blessings that God bestows.

 And so, when God chooses Moses for important work, Moses cries, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” (Exodus 3:11) When the angel Gabriel comes to Zechariah with news that Elizabeth would bear a son, he exclaims, “How will I know that his is so? I am an old man, and my wife is getting on in years!” (Luke 1:18) And when God chooses Mary to be the very mother of Jesus, she asked, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” (Luke 1:34) We might also wonder, how can this be, O God, that I would be chosen by you, that you could use me, exactly as I stand before you now?

 But in Christ, the math we have internalized to organize our lives and judge our worthiness no longer adds up. That God knows us and loves us and adopts us as children is about what God did before the world was even created, and not about anything we could do to micro-manage our way into God’s grace. One translation of Ephesians helps to focus our attention away from ourselves and towards God. It reads: “How blessed is God! What a blessing God is! Long before God laid down earth’s foundations, God had us in mind, had settled on us as the focus of his love, to be made whole and holy by his love. Long, long ago God decided to adopt us into God’s family through Jesus Christ. (What pleasure God took in planning this!)” (Ephesians 1:3-6, The Message)

 It’s not about us, it never was. It is about the blessings of God. And together, we have always been included. We have always been loved. We have always been chosen, every single time.

 As Christians and Lutherans, we mark our adoption into this new life in Jesus Christ in the sacrament of Baptism. Baptism is a tangible and powerful testimony to the spiritual blessings God lavishes upon us, freely and unfailingly -- these same blessings that pour out of our text today -- riches of redemption, forgiveness, grace, and the inheritance of eternal life. When we reaffirm our baptisms, we are reaffirming the life-giving promises God makes to us, in community. We are reminding ourselves that we are chosen by God, every time, to be a blessing to others. We are reminding ourselves that we are chosen by God, every time, to open ourselves up to the witness to Christ in the world.

 In this way, Baptism is not so much about who is in and who is out. It is not really about where we stand as individuals. It is about praising God with our whole heart as a community for the awesome gift of being known and belonging to Christ, exactly as we are. It is about receiving this gift and letting it work its way into our hearts, as individuals and as a community. It is about believing in our own belonging so much that we can lavish the gift of belonging on those around us who do not know.

 I think this ancient letter to the Ephesians, written so long ago, might remind us in important ways to put God back in the center of things. It challenges us to be a people who return, in all that we do, to blessing God – for it is God, and not the works of our hands or hearts, who blesses us with every abundance, on earth as it is in heaven. 

 All praise and honor be to the One who chooses me, and you, and us all, every time.

 Amen.

[1] I owe this insight to a commentary on the text by William Loader, accessed at: https://billloader.com/lectionaryindex.html

[2] I owe this insight to a reading of Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditation from the Center for Action and Contemplation for Friday, July 2, 2021, accessed here: https://cac.org/category/daily-meditations/

Word of God, Word of Life

“Bridges don’t just collapse in Minnesota.” That’s what I remember an official exclaiming after the 35W bridge collapse on August 1, 2007.  You probably remember where you were when the bridge collapsed and fell into the river. You also probably remember how many times you and your loved ones crossed that bridge without a thought or care in the world. How could this bridge just collapse in the middle of the day, killing 13 people and injuring over 100 others? I have to admit that at the time, I wondered if foul play was involved. And yet… as investigators later discovered, a mistake in the bridge’s construction 40 years earlier caused the collapse. A gusset plate was too thin.

 Preliminary reports suggest that a similar structural error – or maybe deferred maintenance -- caused the terrible collapse of the Florida condo building in June. Unfortunately, this time the disaster happened in the middle of the night when people were sleeping – caught completely unawares. We still do not know how many people died that night. 

 What can we depend on when the very ground beneath our feet starts to shake? Whom can we trust when our health, our work, our security, everything that we thought we could count on - fails?

 Paul turned to God.  He prayed. He prayed because he was hurting and was confident that God could solve this problem. After all, he was chosen by Jesus to bring the message of Good News to the Gentiles. He had been transformed by Christ. He doesn’t want to boast but clearly he was a powerful preacher, a strong teacher and an amazing missionary to the world. Why wouldn’t God answer his prayer?

 But God was silent. So Paul prayed again and again for God to take away this pain – he called it a thorn in his side, a messenger from Satan. We don’t know what it was – maybe it was a health issue or a physical pain, or maybe even a person who was undermining his work. But whatever this thorn was, it was painful and Paul begged the Lord to take it away.

 But instead of healing him, Paul received this message from the Lord, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness."

 It wasn’t the answer that Paul wanted to hear. It’s not the message I like to hear either. We want to be strong. We want to feel powerful. We don’t like being vulnerable or weak or dependent.  But this is the message that Paul – and we – need to hear.

 Paul learned – rather painfully-- that he was strongest – not when he relied on his great oratory powers or his own persuasiveness, but rather when he leaned upon the grace of God and let the power of God shine through him. And so are we.

 It’s not an easy answer. We want to be strong, independent and powerful. But God’s response to Paul – and I dare say to us -- is: "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness."

 I know this may seem like a funny message for the 4th of July. This is a day for celebration! This is a day in which I, for one, give thanks to God that I live in a country that is free – free for me and you to speak, to pray, to love, and to vote.

 I recognize that if I had lived a hundred years ago in this country -  I would not be able to preach to you. I would not be able to vote. I also recognize that people in other countries do not have the freedoms that you and I have – and that we sometimes take for granted. Freedom is a gift to not only be treasured but it is a gift to share. For you and I are most free when everyone else is free too.

 So let us celebrate the gift of freedom.  But let us not only celebrate freedom and advocate for others to have freedom too, but let us also remember that the freedom of a Christian is made perfect – not in human power and might -- but in Christ. And, our freedom, as Christians, is focused not on ourselves but on our neighbor. As Luther says, we are free to love and serve our neighbor.

 Like Paul, we are strongest when we realize that our own power or strength or wisdom is not sufficient. We are most powerful when we are vulnerable and depend upon God’s power and not our own. So when you are feeling weak and helpless, rest in the assurance of these words "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness." For when we lean into God’s grace and mercy, that is when we are our best selves. 

 Today, let us give thanks to God for the freedom we enjoy and the blessings we can share. But let us even more give thanks for God’s love which knows no bounds and God’s grace which makes us whole.

 July 4, 2021          Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran Church      Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

The Healing that Knows No Boundaries

A few years ago, I was walking up the stairs, when I locked eyes with a female colleague who was passing. For some reason, I could tell she wasn’t okay, and I asked her what was wrong. She burst into tears, saying “my body won’t stop bleeding and I don’t know what else to do.” I saw in her eyes the physical pain she was experiencing, her fear and anxiety over not being able to control what was happening to her body, and even her shame and embarrassment as she accepted my help gathering her things and getting to care.

As I read our rich Gospel story about the woman who hemorrhaged for twelve years and sought out Jesus, I am reminded of this image. I am reminded that whether we are male or female, at some point in our lives, the “bleeding woman” will be us. At some point in our lives, we all need help and healing. At some point in our lives, we all experience illness, addiction, or disconnection from our mind, body, or spirit. At some point in our lives, we all experience shame and guilt for things we have done and things we have left undone. At some point in our lives, like the bleeding woman deemed “unclean”, we will feel anonymous, or unworthy of love and abundant life. Even if we can’t relate to this feeling of “bleeding” now, someone we know, someone we love, surely has. And when this happens, we “bleed” with them.

Oh sometimes, we try to fix ourselves up to stop the bleeding. Sometimes, we try to fix others up. Sometimes, our efforts work, and sometimes they don’t. In the case of the bleeding woman, we know that she had done all she could with her own resources: our story tells us that she visited a great many doctors and spent all the money she had. But she was no better; in fact, she was worse. Things had gotten so bad, that she had but one option remaining. She had one giant leap of faith to make. Even in her shame and disgrace, she would burrow her way into that crowd that pressed upon Jesus, and reach out to touch the fringe of Jesus’ cloak.    

There were so many reasons, cultural and otherwise, why this story should not have played out the way it did:

·       The perpetually bleeding woman was outcast from the temple and society,  

·       Jesus, a man, should never have been in contact with her “unclean” body,

·       The crowd was swarming upon Jesus for his attention,

·       And yet, the woman’s faith, or her leap of faith, propelled her forward, and…

One touch was all it took. One touch—with the faith that had been given to her – was all she needed to heal. One moment of divine contact. One miracle, not even initiated by Jesus, stopped her hemorrhage, returned her to wholeness, and revealed the truth of her life.

Jesus’ healing presence – the way he points to abundant life, and thriving, and saving – knows no boundaries.

This morning, we will all be invited to meet this same grace and healing power of Jesus shared with us in the Eucharist. Perhaps, for us, the act of electing to receive the body and the blood of Christ is not unlike the agency of the bleeding woman who reaches out to touch the fringe of Jesus’ cloak. Every week, it is an act of faith to receive this gift given to us freely from God, and to believe, to really believe, that God is saying “YES” to you. Is it not an act of faith to believe that no matter however you come this morning – hurting, worried, grieving, joyful, expectant – God says in this bread and in this wine that you are loved beyond measure for being everything that you are, that you are fed and forgiven, reconciled in Christ? Is it not an act of faith to believe that God says go forth from this meal and be liberated by Christ, for you have beautiful gifts to share?

This kind of heart knowledge is the pearl of healing. It comes to you simply because you trust in a good and gracious God, creator of all things, who sent Jesus into the world to live and die and rise, thus teaching us what God was all about. In the healing words of Romans 8:39, now nothing will separate you from the love of God in Christ Jesus.

This is the kind of love that knows no boundaries. This is the kind of love that plays no favorites. This is the kind of love that looks upon the woman who bleads and says yes. This is the kind of love that looks upon the orphan and the refugee and says yes. This is the kind of love that looks upon the convict, and then towards the billionaire, and says yes. This love says yes to the one who can’t be bothered, and to the addict, and to the man who feels much, but cannot cry.

This love, this healing power of Jesus, knows no boundaries. This love simply says yes.

And lest we fear that those we love who do not express their faith in the same way we do will be deprived of the love of God, our Gospel today provides yet another example of how to help others touch the cloak of Jesus.

And that is simply to believe in them fervently, no matter what: to believe in their worthiness of love, in their worthiness of life, and in their worthiness of health the same way that God does. Without boundaries.

This is the kind of fervent belief in God’s unconditional love that leads Jairus, the other character in our Gospel story this morning, to pursue Jesus and healing for his daughter with every last hope, even though his daughter had already been proclaimed dead.

“Talitha, cum,” Jesus says to his dead daughter, which means in Aramaic, “Little girl, get up.” And immediately, she did, getting up to walk about as if nothing had happened.

Oh, what we wouldn’t give to see Jesus show up on the spot in the midst of tragedy and say to those we have lost in death, “You, Beloved Child of God, get up!” Would we not rejoice and sing with the Psalmist: “You have tuned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy!” (Psalm 30:11)

And yet, is not another miracle our belief that Jesus’ healing touch transcends each and every boundary we create for one another, including and up to the clearest and most significant boundary we experience as humans, that being death. Our Gospel tells us that Jesus has failed to heal someone in time, he has the power to raise her, to draw her up.

This week, let this miraculous news sink deep into your bones. Jesus’ healing touch knows no boundaries, even in death. The power of God simply refuses to be contained. Let us imagine what is beyond imagination: the embrace of the Gospel of Jesus – an embrace is too deep and too wide to leave anyone on the outs.  

 Will you pray with me?[1] 

Dear Jesus, we are just like the father Jairus who loved and believed in his daughter to the end. And at times, we bleed like the woman who suffered and felt cut off from God and from relationships with others. We want to touch you with the faith you give us. We want to touch others with your love that knows no boundaries. Help us and heal us. In your most blessed name we pray, Amen.

[1] Adapted from a prayer written by Anne Osdieck, and posted on The Sunday Website of St. Louis University. http://liturgy.slu.edu.

Awe and Wonder

Flooding in Texas. Hurricane season on the coast. Tornadoes, wind and rain. We know storms –storms that swamp boats or wash out homes and take down powerlines, storms that can send wind, rain, snow and tornadoes, storms that demolish everything in their path, storms that can threaten our lives. We know storms.

The disciples, being fishermen were no strangers to storms either. The sea of Galilee is only about the size of Lake Minnetonka, but because it is nestled like a bowl between the Galilean hills and Golan Heights, if the wind comes over the Heights and drops into the sea, a storm can erupt suddenly – even today.

So maybe because they knew the power of this storm or maybe because they knew that their little boat could not take on any more water and stay afloat, they became afraid. They might also have been angry that while they were working, trying to keep the boat from sinking, Jesus was sleeping on a pillow. But whether out of fear or anger, desperation or despair, they cried out to Jesus, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” 

Not their best words. But then… which of us are at our best when we are afraid, when we are at the end of our rope? Which of us are our best selves when we wonder… where is GOD? Doesn’t God care? Is God asleep?

In the Gospel story, Jesus actually was sleeping. But he heard the cry for help – maybe it was really a form of prayer - from his followers. Our reading says, He woke. But I like another translation better – he arose. In other words, he got up and responded. He proclaimed to the chaos “Peace. Be still.” And it was still. 

They knew storms. But at this moment they realized… they did not know Jesus.  And at this was the moment, the disciples went from fear to awe and from certainty of their fate “we will perish” to the beginnings of faith, starting with their questions, wondering who is this Jesus? But they wouldn’t have gotten there without the storm.

We know storms – and have experienced lots of storms this past year – not only thunderstorms, hurricanes, and tornadoes, but also “storms” of a different sort.  The pandemic affected us all – not equally – but in one way or another. There have also been storms on our streets – protests against injustice, but also riots and blockading of streets. And like the disciples, we and countless others have prayed to God for relief from this virus, for health and healing for our nation, our community and for the world.

And just as Jesus heard the cries of his disciples, Jesus hears and answers our cries and our pleas too. The coronavirus reports are improving. We are able to be back together for worship, for gatherings of family and friends and even for weddings and funerals. Oh it isn’t according to our timeline or our plan or the virus and the protests would be all wrapped up and we would be back to “normal.” But just as the disciples were not “back to normal” after the storm – we can’t be either.

While it is tempting to try to just put the pandemic and the protests behind us and move on, like the disciples, we can only learn from the storm – if we take a little time to reflect. You can’t reflect when you are bailing water. But when the boat is still and peace has come – at least for a time – that is the time look at the way that God has been working in the world – even while we were isolating at home.

As I look back on this past year, I have noticed that there are more people in the parks than ever before. And I’ve noticed that when people do gather, there is so much joy just at being together. We gathered a group of kids for VBS out on the lawn this past week and we had so much fun just getting together, learning about God’s word, playing games, making crafts and singing God’s praises. What have you noticed? Where do you see God at work in ways that you did not notice before … maybe in surprising ways?

Another reason why we can’t just go back to “normal” is that while the coronavirus reports are improving – at least in our neighborhoods – it is not better in other parts of the world – and if we have learned anything about a pandemic, the illness of one part of the world affects the health of the whole world. One of our challenges is to learn to live as citizens of the world – rather than just our family, our church, our community, our nation, we need to care for all God’s people.

This is not new. One of the reasons the disciples boat got caught in this big storm was that Jesus had wanted to go over to the “other side” of the lake. That was the place where Gentiles lived and the Israeli people did not go. It was foreign, it was “other.” But Jesus stretched the boundary of who was a part of God’s people. And Jesus is still stretching us.

We are also learning to live with some uncertainty. We don’t know if a variant of the virus will emerge or if we, like India and parts of Europe will have to go back to wearing masks and staying distant from one another. I hope not. But what do we do with this uncertainty? 

I read a story about one man who was seeking clarity.  He had studied ethics and was successful but was facing uncertainty about his future. He decided to go to Calcutta to work with Mother Theresa at “the house of the dying” in an effort to seek a clear answer as to how best to spend the rest of his life.  

On the first morning there he met Mother Teresa. 

She asked, “And what can I do for you?”

“Pray for me,” said the man.

“What do you want me to pray for?” she asked. 

“Pray that I have clarity.”

Mother Theresa looked at him and said firmly, “No, I will not do that.”    

“What? I’ve come to work for you and I’ve travelled thousands of miles seeking clarity and your prayers. I know you pray for others. Why won’t you pray for me?”

Mother Theresa replied: “Clarity is the last thing you are clinging to and must let go of.” 

“But you always seem to have clarity. That’s what I’m longing for.” 

Mother Theresa laughed and said, “I have never had clarity; what I have always had is trust. So I will pray that you trust God.”1

The disciples had less clarity after watching Jesus still the storm. And after the storms that we have been through, we may have less certainty about what our future holds. We are in a liminal space. We can’t go back to the way that things “always were”. Or maybe we can’t go back to what we nostalgically remember as the way things “always were.” The world is always changing. This pandemic storm forced all of us to notice.  We do not know what the future holds.

But this we do know: God is still Lord of heaven and earth and God is still and always will be active in our world and in our neighborhoods. And so, like Mother Theresa prayed for trust for the man who visited her, let us pray that we too may trust God with our future. Let us listen for the ways in which God would have us engage in our neighborhood and with our world. And in the meantime, let us sing God’s praises and stop striving long enough to simply be in awe of God. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen

1~ Story from Sue Miley, Christian therapist in Baton Rouge, LA

Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane                     Faith- Lilac Way                                  June 20, 2021