Sunday, May 28, 2023

A Modern Day Reflection on the Sheep and the Goats:

Who and How Do We Serve?

            Take a moment to look again at our bulletin cover with me. What do you see? I see a group of people from all walks of life and backgrounds. I see children skinny and unclothed, a crying baby, a gentleman partially laying on the floor and perhaps homeless. I see a person in a wheel chair and two elderly people with canes. I see some young men, a teenager with a skateboard. I see a woman wearing a scantily clad dress, and although I don’t know her background, at first glance I wonder if she might be a street worker or someone who has been exploited by human trafficking.

            In reality, we don’t know the stories and backgrounds of any of these individuals. They are all strangers to us, people we might pass on the street or see in a “feed the children” ad from the other side of the world. Whoever these people are, though, I think they each have a need. Some are hungry or poor, the children need clothing and care, some of them might be lonely, longing for acceptance, kindness, or new opportunities.

            And then, of course, we see the gentleman in the middle, praying to God to send him someone to love. His prayer is genuine and heartfelt, but he is oblivious to those around him. What does this image make you feel? If I am being honest with myself, this picture makes me feel uncomfortable. It reminds me how often I go through life unaware of those around me.

            The artist of this cartoon, David Hayward, is a former pastor and artist. He also uses the name “Naked Pastor” because he feels called to sometimes lay bare some difficult truths about justice, such as this one. In some ways this image is hard to swallow. How often do we as Christians turn away from our neighbors while praying for meaning and a better world? How often may we be praying empty prayers, asking God to help these people, and yet unwilling to be sent ourselves?

            It isn’t necessarily that we don’t care about others. In fact, I think we are all capable of great compassion and kindness when we see others hurting. We often want to help when we can. But how often do we actually take notice?

           In college I majored in Psychology, and I was reminded this week of an experiment we studied in one of my classes. In 1973, two psychologists named Darley and Batson, conducted an experiment they aptly named the “Good Samaritan Experiment.” In this experiment the psychologists wanted to test whether or not seminary students would stop to help someone in need. These seminary students were  sent to walk across campus in order to give a sermon on the Good Samaritan in another building, and along their route there was an injured man slumped on the sidewalk. The study found that many of the seminarians failed to notice the person on the sidewalk, and even if they did, many of them had been told that they were running late for their sermon and so decided to pass the injured man by. The experimenters even reported that a few of the seminary students stepped over the injured man as they hurried on their way.

            Understandably, the results of this experiment were shocking. How ironic and heartbreaking is it that people who were preparing to give a sermon on helping often failed to offer help when it was needed? Later when asked why they hadn’t stopped, these students said they were in a rush, distracted, concerned for their own safety, or simply felt like someone else would be better equipped to help.

            These aren’t unreasonable reasons, and I think many of us would say similar things in such a situation. The truth is is that many of us are busy. We have our own problems and responsibilities. Many of us have jobs, bills to pay, meetings or doctor appointments to get to, friends, children or grandchildren we want to be there for. As we rush from one place to another we may not always have the time to see those who are around us.

            Or, like some of the students in the experiment said, we might decide that we can’t help. The situation of the person in front of us might make us feel uncomfortable, and perhaps we wrestle internally within ourselves about what to do. We often come up with reasons not to help, saying things such as, I don’t have the skills or the resources, I don’t know how to help, I’m too old, too weak, etc.. It isn’t that we are uncaring or apathetic, but we may have our reasons to walk away. And so, whatever our reason or reasons may be, we often walk by those who may be most in need.

            And yet I wonder, when we do walk by, what message does the person in need receive? How might the injured man in the experiment have felt when time and time again people walked by, stepped over him, or avoided eye contact? I can hear them thinking, does my pain matter?

            I was faced with such a dilemma this past week. I forgot my lunch at home last Friday, so as lunch time rolled around and my stomach began to grumble, I got in my car and went in search of some lunch. As I was driving I saw the Target sign in the distance and remembered I needed to buy a few ingredients for dinner too. So I parked my car, quickly went in to do my shopping, and decided to buy myself some Taco Bell on my way back to the church office.

            I made it through the drive thru line, got my tacos and made my way toward the lot exit. It’s then that I saw her. A woman holding a sign that said “Single Mom, Two Kids, Need Help.” A three year old sat on a blanket at her feet and a baby slept in a stroller. Seeing them standing there made me uncomfortable, and to be completely honest I turned the other way and went out another exit so I wouldn’t have to make eye contact with this woman and her children.

            As I drove back to the church I tried to make excuses. I didn’t have time to help because I had food that needed to be refrigerated. I had just spent more money than I probably should have at Target, and my gas tank was running on empty and I would need to buy some gas soon. And besides, for all I knew this might just be a scam. After all, she wouldn’t have been the first person to stand on the corner to scam good people into helping.

            I tried to make excuses and reason it away but I was still troubled. I felt God nudging me. God can be very annoying that way sometimes. I just wanted to get back to the church office and write my sermon about helping people and now here was this woman holding a sign and God bugging me to do something about it. How ironic is it that I need to write a sermon about helping people and now God was asking me to take the risk and practice what I preach.

            Then it came to my mind that the church office purchases gas and grocery gift cards just in case someone comes to the church asking for help—and you might be surprised by how many do come. But did I want to risk it? Did I dare risk using the church’s resources to help someone who might possibly be scamming me? God nudged me again. Wasn’t it worth the risk, God asked, to give a grocery gift card in hopes that it would feed this woman and her two kids? After all, Jesus took the risk on the cross to do good for me not knowing whether or not I would ever pay it forward.

            Long story short, I used one of the church gift cards to help this family, and I shared the information for the NEAR FoodShelf with them too. She thanked me and said she appreciated the church’s kindness, and I went on my way. I still don’t know this woman’s situation or whether or not she really needed the help, but I believe it was worth the risk to love someone as God called us as Christians to do. It’s worth it to love a little recklessly sometimes.

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            Now I do want to say that we are not called to save the world nor can we save every person we see who might need help. There are times that I as an individual might not be able to help. For example, I don’t roll down my window to help stranger if I am driving alone at night, or if I am in an area where I don’t feel safe. Our safety does indeed matter, and it is also true that we do not always have the resources that that person might need at that moment. There have been times where I wanted to help but didn’t have anything on me to give.

            In other words, sometimes we are called to be on the front lines of helping, and sometimes we might be called in other ways. Faith Lilac Way partners with a lot of great organizations that are doing God’s work in our community. We work with the NEAR FoodShelf, EveryMeal, Cherish All Children and the ELCA Disaster Response just to name a few. These organizations are often better trained and better equipped to help on the front lines than I am as an individual, but I can still do my individual part.

             I can help by making a monthly donation or volunteering, I can give someone in need the contact information to an organization, or maybe I can spread the word to my friends on social media so other people know about the great organizations that are providing resources and support. I can also do my part at the ballot box by voting for leaders who I believe are committed to doing this justice work. I can use my voice, write to my elected leaders or sign a petition to lobby for change. There are things we can do—and are called to do—to help. We all have gifts, talents and resources to share in ways both big and small—but—they will only be useful if we take time to notice the needs of others and decide to take the risk to help.

            With God’s help, may we have the eyes to see and compassion to care. May our discomfort of the suffering neighbor convict us and spur us to action. In God’s name may we welcome the stranger, clothe the cold and nourish the hungry. May we give hope to the hopeless, companionship to the lonely, and justice to the oppressed. This is the work to which we as Christians are called. May we be open to the Holy Spirit and open to how God may use us in this work toward justice. It won’t always be easy to do what is right—sometimes it will force us to be uncomfortable or speak up against the status quo (Jesus had to rattle the status quo of his day too). The good news is that God is faithful and we do not do this work alone. There are plenty of people around us who need love and hope, and Christ leads the way into this work. And may we remember that when we do this work for the least of these, we also do it for Christ who first took the risk to love and reach out us. Thanks be to God for God’s justice. Amen.

Sunday, May 21, 2023

Breathe in the Holy Spirit

Lord Jesus, we are thirsty. Help us to breathe in the Holy Spirit and breath out your love and grace like rivers of living water. Amen.

 Breath. It is probably the gift of God that we take the most for granted. After our first breath, which often comes with a cry, breathing becomes automatic. We don’t even need to think about it… until it becomes hard to breathe.

 Tom and Susan – not their real names -  were planning to get married. I met with them a few times and Susan was quite anxious about all the details. She was also quite shy and not looking forward to standing before everyone. I told her to just remember to breathe and everything would be fine. On the day of the wedding, Susan was even more anxious. But she made it down the aisle and was standing before her family and next to the groom. Still clearly very nervous, she looked at me, and took a breath. I smiled, thinking that she had listened to me and was taking it in stride. But then she looked at me again, and took another little breath and then another and then another and all of a sudden, I realized that she wasn’t exhaling – at all. It was as if she was becoming like a big balloon, taking in more and more air and not letting any out. I was afraid that she might either explode or faint, so I said to her, “Susan, Breathe - but remember to exhale too”. Breathe in the Holy Spirit. Breathe out God’s love and grace.

 Like the nervous bride, when we are anxious and afraid, it can be hard for us to even breathe. For the last few years, we wore masks and kept our distance from one another for fear of becoming infected or accidentally infecting someone else with Covid 19. We were not even able to sing or have our choir. And instead of people coming together, we have experienced isolation and division in our world, in our politics, in our neighborhoods. It has been a challenging time… an anxious time and I know that we are not done yet with this virus or others that may come. But now… it is time. Instead of thinking about what divides us one from another – it is time for us, as Christians, to breathe in the Holy Spirit and breathe out God’s love and grace.

 In John’s Gospel, the disciples were anxious too. They had been in hiding after Jesus was crucified. The doors were locked. They were afraid. Maybe they had a hard time breathing too. But then, in came the resurrected Jesus bringing them a message of peace and breathing the Holy Spirit into them and inviting them to receive the Holy Spirit.

 As Lutherans, we don’t often focus on the Holy Spirit. Lutherans tend to spend much more time talking about and praying to God the Father and creator of our world and Jesus, God’s son, our Savior. Maybe it is because we are less comfortable with the Holy Spirit that we read about in the book of Acts who comes in a rush of wind disrupting the Festival with flames of fire that do not burn and suddenly making it so everyone can hear the Good News of Jesus in their native tongue. The Holy Spirit is unpredictable, uncontrollable and completely wholly God. Not an easy gift to wrap your head around.

 And yet…this is the gift that Jesus promises – a gift of an advocate, life giving water and holy breath, the Holy Spirit—and this is the gift Jesus gives as Jesus breathes into the disciples and says, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” This is the gift you receive at your baptism when you are sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with the cross of Christ forever.  There is nothing that the disciples did or you can do to earn or deserve the gift of the presence of the Holy Spirit. This is God’s gift. And while you may choose to ignore the Holy Spirit… the Holy Spirit is always there… at the ready. 

 You may be familiar with Eugene Peterson who translated the Message Bible. His son Leif wrote, “every night his dad would steal into his room and whisper softly the same message over and over: “God loves you. He's on your side. He's coming after you. He's relentless.” “Relentless.” The Holy Spirit is coming after you. Why? Because God is on your side. And God loves you. That is the work of the Holy Spirit.

 Over the past year, I have learned that breathing deeply can also help us when we pray. So, I’d like to invite you to take a deep breath in – deeper, deeper, deeper… Breathe in the Holy Spirit. And now exhale…exhale… exhale. Breathe out God’s love and grace like living waters. This is the gift of the Holy Spirit given for You and the gift that the Holy Spirit empowers you to give to one another. Thanks be to God. Amen.

May 21, 2023        Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran        Pastor Pamela Stalheim Lane

Sunday, May 14, 2023

  The Way of Jesus

“This is the Way.” This is the tagline for an honor code of a displaced ethnic group, the Mandalorians, on a TV show that is an offshoot of George Lucas’ Star Wars. This is the Way. It is rarely the easy way, and often requires self-sacrifice, but it is always affirmed, “This is the Way.” 

 It is just a TV show, and yet, every time I hear it, I am reminded of Jesus’ promise to his disciples, “I AM the Way, the Truth and the Life.” Jesus speaks these words to his disciples on the night that he is about to be betrayed. He knows, and with the benefit of hindsight, we know, that his path, his way, God’s way, is to the cross.

 But his disciples do not know and, understandably, their anxiety meter is high – Jesus has just told them that he is going away and they can’t follow. They don’t know what is going to happen – but in their minds it doesn’t sound good. And yet, Jesus says, “Do not let your hearts be troubled - Or as one scholar translates it, “Do not let the heart – one heart - of you all  -- all of you -- be troubled.” Jesus speaks to them and us not as individuals but as one with one heart. And then Jesus urges them and us to “Believe.” “Believe in God. Believe also in me.” Or as another translation reads: “Trust.”  Trust in God. Trust also in me.” 1

 When we are anxious, worried, afraid, it is hard to know who or what to believe, where to turn or whom to trust.

 In her sermon on this text at the Synod Assembly, Bishop Ann reminded us of a song “You Can Do This Hard Thing” by Carrie Newcomer. The first stanza relates the frustration as a child of trying to add a column of numbers. “There at the table with my head in my hands. A column of numbers I just could not understand.”  But then she relates what her understanding mother/father/ mentor gently said her:  "Add these together, Carry the two, Now you… You can do this hard thing….It’s not easy I know, But I believe that it’s so. You can do this hard thing.”

 The song continues through the challenges of life as we grow older. Challenges, hard things still happen. The first time away from home… standing at the bus station… again the encourager says, “I’ll carry your bag… it’s not easy I know… but I believe that it’s so… you can do this hard thing.”

And when the call that something awful has happened comes in the middle of the night – it’s always the middle of the night no matter what time it is – and she wonders how she can ever face the next day the encourager says, once again, “You can do this hard thing….It’s not easy I know, But I believe that it’s so. You can do this hard thing.” 2

 I think she is right.  You and I can face this hard thing – whatever it is -- because we are not doing this hard thing alone.

 It’s easy to forget that. Embedded in our culture is an expectation that success comes from individual effort – be strong and “pull yourself up by your bootstraps.”  But if you are standing in quicksand, the only way that you are going if you try to lift yourself out – is down even further. It’s actually a funny image if you think about it. No one can pull themselves out of a sinkhole by reaching down lifting on their own boots. We are not made to be independent. We are made, by God, to have one heart.

 But, when challenges, troubles come, and they will and they do…  and when, in our anxiety, we can’t see a way forward, we forget that we are not alone. Whether facing a hard math problem or the death of a loved one or loss of a future plan or hope or dream… you too have an encourager who says to you, “It’s not easy I know.. but I believe that it’s so… You can do this hard thing.”

 And now, although it sounds strange to Minnesotan ears, for clarity, I’m going to have to talk like a southerner.

 You all can do this hard thing called life because Jesus is not only an encourager but as Jesus tells the disciples, Jesus has prepared a place for you all, a place that Jesus describes as place with many rooms – enough for all of you and others too. There is plenty of room in God’s house. This is Jesus’ promise.

 And yet… the disciples still don’t understand. Thomas asks, ‘Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?’

 Thomas is asking for GPS directions but Jesus gives him much more. Neither Thomas nor we cannot fully understand but Jesus gives us new windows to try to glimpse who He is and who God is through his “I AM” statements throughout the Gospel of John.

 Jesus said, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life.’

 This is the way – the way is Jesus. For Jesus is truth.  

 You may remember that when Jesus is being interrogated by Pilate, Pilate cynically asks him, “What is truth?” It’s a question that is often asked cynically today as people on social media and even news channels try to put their own “spin” on “truth.” Jesus doesn’t need to spin the truth. Jesus is the truth. No spin.

 And Jesus is life. John begins this Gospel with a reference to Genesis and the very beginning of the world saying,  “ In the beginning was the Word and the word was with God and the Word was God.” John 1:1 Jesus is the life-giving presence of God made flesh.

 It might have been easier if Jesus had stopped right there.

But Jesus continues saying, “No one comes to the Father except through me. Even though Jesus is still speaking to his disciples and to all of us people often hear exclusion when they hear Jesus proclaim “no one comes to the Father except through me.” But Jesus is not done. He continues, saying, “If you know me, you will know my Father also.”

 We will know God the Father through Jesus. So let us look to Jesus, and when we do, we see a wide welcome. For Jesus calls you each by name – but has given you all one heart. So when we disagree, let us not take a scalpel to that heart and think we have the right to decide who is in and who is out. Instead, let us look to Jesus. This is the way.  Jesus is the way. And through Jesus we will see the Father.

 You can do this hard thing. The world around us is busy pointing out what are our differences, what are the ways that the other is doing something wrong, who or what should we cancel or avoid or despise.  Overcoming our differences, seeing the “other” as brother and sister, may be one of our biggest challenges.

 And yet, you ‘all can do this hard thing….It’s not easy I know, But I believe that it’s so. You all can do this hard thing.”

 For when we look to Jesus as the Way and the Truth and the Life, we see the face of God. And that is the face of love. Thanks be to God. Amen.

 1https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/fifth-sunday-of-easter/commentary-on-john-141-14-6

2 https://www.carrienewcomer.com

Sunday, May 7, 2023

The Fourth Sunday in Easter

The Good Shepherd

            I have always loved the imagery of Jesus the Good Shepherd. It is probably one of the best known and comforting pieces of Scripture as it reminds us both of God’s protection and God’s tender care. Out of curiosity I googled the words “Good Shepherd” this week and came upon hundreds of paintings and drawings depicting Jesus as the Good Shepherd. I am sure you have seen a few of these pictures yourself. When I see these pictures, Jesus always seems to be in a tranquil green pasture surrounded by happy and adoring sheep. These beautiful pictures are peaceful and comforting, but I wonder if they accurately represent the life of a shepherd.

             To be a shepherd in Jesus’s time was a hard job. While shepherding was not the most dignified profession, livestock such as sheep were valuable and large flocks were considered a sign of wealth. Sheep were used for food, religious sacrifices, and many other things. The sheep were a great asset to the owner, so the shepherd held a great responsibility for their protection.

            A shepherd was responsible for the sheep at all times and would often live outside with the flock. During the day the shepherd would lead the sheep to pasture and calm waters and keep watch all day as they grazed. Come heat, wind, rain or storm, the shepherd remained steadfast. If a sheep wandered off—as they are prone to do—the shepherd was responsible for bringing it back to the flock, and if a sheep became injured or sick the shepherd was responsible for that too. At night the shepherd would lead the flock back to their pen, often sleeping at the gate entrance so no sheep could wander, and no thieves or wild animals could come in. Simply said, shepherding was a hard, tiring, messy and sometimes dangerous job.

            And yet, despite the hard work, the shepherd was dedicated to the sheep. The shepherd came to know and care for each sheep individually, to the point that he would risk his own wellbeing for the sake of the sheep. No generic hired hand would go to such lengths, and that is why the sheep knew the shepherd’s voice and trusted the shepherd alone. For the sheep, the shepherd was their protector, their provider, their comforter and their leader. The shepherd was their lifeline and their survival.

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            In our Gospel today, Jesus asserts himself as the Good Shepherd, taking on the role of deep relational love and care for the flock, God’s people. God is the owner of the flock and the flock is valuable to God. God knows each member of the flock. Each and every one of God’s people has a name and a story, and God wants each and every person to know that they are loved and belong to the fold of God’s people.

            Yet, God knows that we are a vulnerable flock. We live in a world that is unpredictable and sometimes dangerous. There is sin and fear, distractions and voices that lead us astray from God’s goodness. In a world that is so busy and uncertain, it can be hard for us to hear God’s voice. We can forget who we are and who God is. But because God loves God’s people, God sent his most trusted shepherd, God’s own Son, to personally tend to God’s people. In love, Jesus accepts the task and desires to care for and love each person whom God has created and loves.

            I am thankful today that Jesus is our faithful Good Shepherd. Jesus knows and cares for each of us personally, and Jesus knows our needs. Jesus offers us guidance and company in a world that is chaotic and sometimes uncertain. Troubles will come and we may go astray, but the Good Shepherd is steadfast and will not run away in the hard times. The Good Shepherd stands with us when the rain pours and the thunder rolls, carries us when we are tired, and comes after us when we wander. Our Shepherd will go to great lengths for our wellbeing and there is nothing that can snatch us away from the love of our Good Shepherd. In fact, our Good Shepherd loved us to the point of laying down his life on a cross, so that we could find life and have it abundantly. Our Good Shepherd is faithful, and in Christ we find our hope.

*****

            I also give thanks today for the flock and for the gift of community. Just as sheep do better in a flock, our Good Shepherd created us to be in community too. We were created for life together, with God and with one another. The flock is both community and family.

            I learned this truth for the first time when I was 4 years old. I always loved going to church. I loved the Bible Stories, the music, the grownups who would always smile at me. But I remember one terrifying moment at church when I got separated from my mom. I was standing in the back of the sanctuary with a crowd of people moving around me. It was the busy time right after Sunday school as parents were gathering their children and going into worship, and others were coming in to get ready for the service. Everyone was shuffling around me and no one seemed to notice me. The faces were familiar as I saw many of them each week, but as I turned in circles none of them were my mom and I was scared. I started to cry. A woman named Lesley noticed me and immediately came to my aid. Giving me a hug and taking my hand, she told me that church was family and I didn’t need to be afraid.

            Lesley’s words stayed with me as I grew up and they became true—church was family. There was Robin who always gave me a bear hug and a kiss on the top of my head. There was Mary who taught me how to “pan for gold” during Vacation Bible School, and Judy who told me Bible stories and taught me how to cross stitch. There was Andy who played the guitar and knew all of my favorite church camp songs, and Chuck who was at every church event with a helping hand. These people became family and community for me. They weren’t in my life every day when I was at school or at home, but there were still family, a community, a support system and a refuge for me no matter what I was going through. I needed my community, to be a part of the flock.

            Faith-Lilac Way is the same. Some of you have been members for years and some are newer to the group, but it doesn’t matter because we are family. We worship together and work together to do ministry. We share our talents and passions with one another, whether that be music, fixing things around the building or cooking in the kitchen. We have book clubs, pancake breakfasts and community gatherings. Many of us have formed friendships that go beyond our church doors and we walk alongside one another in the daily parts of life. Together we laugh, play, cry and pray. We live life together, both the good and the bad. We are blessed to live together in community, to be a part of God’s community.

            God’s community is special, both at Faith-Lilac Way and in the wider Church, and what is unique about God’s community is that there is always room for more. God’s flock comes with an open invitation. In our Gospel today Jesus says he must bring others into the fold until there is one Flock and one Shepherd. The Good Shepherd is good at finding lost and vulnerable sheep, and sheep that did not originally belong find welcome in the flock. In my mind I picture a ragtag group and colorful and unique sheep gathered around the Shepherd—sheep of different colors and sizes, ages, background, abilities and beliefs. It is a beautiful picture I see. It is the Shepherd who decides who belongs, and it is the job of the flock to simply be the flock. Now, life together in the flock is not always easy. Challenges do come and sometimes the sheep get on each other’s nerves. Sometimes mistakes are made and sometimes feelings get hurt. Sometimes life together is hard, but with the Shepherd’s help the flock is strong and remains united. The flock is the community of welcome and life together, guided by the Good Shepherd.

            What a beautiful image of church—to be a church that lives in community together as God’s flock, a community that supports one another in good times and in bad, a community that eagerly welcomes and loves all of those brought into our midst. What a transforming and beautiful kind of church that is—God’s Church. With God’s help I pray that Faith-Lilac Way can be that kind of church now and always. May we be a church that follows the voice of our Good Shepherd, a church that trusts in God’s promises, a church where others find welcome, and a flock that reflects God’s love to one another and the world. May it be so. Amen.

April 30, 2023

Third Sunday in Easter (Year A)

            Perhaps you remember the chaos at the airport during the holiday season over this past winter. Due to bad weather and airport miscommunications, hundreds and thousands of flights were cancelled across the country, leaving people stranded and desperate to find a way home for the holidays. Maybe you or someone you know were one of the many at the airport trying to catch one of those cancelled flights.

            The same thing happened to a group of 13 strangers trying to catch a flight from Florida to Tennessee. Unable to find other travel arrangements, this group of 13 complete strangers made an interesting decision. Together they would rent a passenger van and road trip the hundreds of miles to their destination. How unusual in this day and age—an age of so much caution and mistrust—for a group of compete strangers to come together in this way, having never met and yet united on a mission.

            Of course, living in the world of cell phones and the internet, the group of strangers made videos along the journey and posted them online to share their impromptu adventure with the world. They quickly went viral on the internet and their story became famous—people were fascinated about this group of traveling strangers on a journey.

            Well, after hundreds of miles and hours on the road together, the group reached their destination, and at the end of their journey they parted ways no longer as strangers, but as friends. One traveler in the group said the trip had restored her trust in humanity, reassured her that people could be good. The unexpected journey had transformed her outlook on life and her outlook on the strangers around her. It is true that sometimes the journeys we take and the strangers we meet along the way can change everything.

            Well, in our Gospel today we find two disciples who are also on a journey. They are on the road to Emmaus, and as they travel along they are reflecting on recent events. These two disciples are dismayed and confused. So much has happened to them in the last few days. They remember the feeling of hope they felt when Jesus came into Jerusalem. It was only a week or so since Jesus had rode into Jerusalem on a donkey to the shouts of Hosanna, and yet, it seems so long ago. How quickly their hope had turned to despair as Jesus was crucified. But now Jesus was dead and buried, and these two traveled along the road, weary and unsure of what to do next.

            But, suddenly, here came a man, a stranger, who spoke with them. This man must have been living under a rock because he hasn’t heard anything about Jesus’s crucifixion, which is all people have been talking about for the last three days. But the disciples, wanting to be polite, patiently brought the man up to speed as they travel the road together.

            And as they walked along, this man listened to their story and then shared some interesting ideas of his own. He was well educated about the scriptures and talked about Moses, the prophets, and Jesus. He said all of these things came to pass as part of God’s plan. And the two disciples listened to their new companion, bust still they did not recognize him. It wasn’t until hours later, breaking the bread over supper, that their eyes were finally opened to recognize Jesus. It had never been a stranger with them along the road, but rather the resurrected Jesus himself.

            But what is it, I wonder, that kept these two disciples from recognizing the resurrected Christ? Was it a divine act that kept them from seeing, or were these two disciples just clueless? Who knows for sure, but I wonder if perhaps it was their expectations that had kept them from seeing. They had expected things to turn out differently with Jesus, but Jesus had fallen short of their expectations with his death. And now that Jesus was dead, they expected that to be the end of that. They expected one thing, and when the opposite happened, they were unable to see it.

            I wonder how often it is that we do the same thing. What are our expectations of Jesus? Where do we expect to find Jesus in our lives? I think most of us would say we expect to see or experience Jesus at church, but do we expect to encounter Jesus at the grocery store or the post office? We expect to see Jesus in the faces of church members, friends and our families, but do we expect to see the face of Jesus in the stranger, or in the face of the outsider? How often might it be that we miss Jesus in our daily lives because we don’t expect Jesus to be there? How often might we look back and see Jesus afterward, but miss Jesus in the moment?

            I got curious about this question this past week, so I decided to go on a hunt for stories. I wanted to know about some of those unexpected places, situations and people where Jesus showed up and wasn’t recognized at the time. I found a lot.

            I read a story about a 7 year old boy who was sick in the hospital. The doctors were unsure if the boy would survive, and so the mother prayed at his bedside as the boy slept. At some point, as the hours ticked by, a nurse walked into the boy’s hospital room and started a conversation with the boy’s mother. The nurse introduced herself and reassured her that her son would be alright, and together they prayed before the nurse moved on to see other patients. Within a few hours of the visit the boy’s vital signs began to improve and over the next few days he recovered. Later, as hospital staff was preparing to discharge the boy, his mother asked to see that nurse again. She wanted to thank that nurse for her prayers and companionship during that difficult moment. She asked for that nurse by name, and the strange this was, there had never been a nurse or hospital employee with that name. The boy and his mother believe it was an angel or Jesus himself.

            I read another story about a man who was down on his luck. He was going through a divorce and had lost his job. He drank a little too much to dull the hurt he was feeling, and he didn’t know what to do next with his life. One night he stopped at a gas station near his house to buy some more alcohol, and as he walked toward the door a man standing on the sidewalk nodded at him and said to hang in there because it was all going to be okay. The stranger said good things were around the corner, just wait and see. Now, he didn’t know this man, but as he went in to make his purchase he got to thinking about this stranger on the sidewalk. How could this stranger possibly know what was going on in his life? He decided he wanted to talk to the stranger some more, so he put the alcohol back on the shelf and went outside the door, but the stranger was gone. Both confused and intrigued, the man got back in his car and drove home, thinking about the stranger’s words all the way. Those words stayed with him over the weeks and months that followed. He sobered up, got a new job, and remarried two years later. He credits the stranger, his “Jesus in disguise” as he called him.

            I read a news story about prisoners in a Georgia prison who saved the life of a prison guard suffering a heart attack. The guard was alone at the time, and the prisoners could have chosen to use that moment to take the guard’s gun, unlock the doors and attempt an escape. But instead, prisoner’s rushed to the guard’s side and used his radio to call for help, giving aid until emergency responders arrived. These three prisoners were credited with saving the officer’s life. Jesus definitely showed up in the faces of those three prisoners on that day.

            The stories go on, each one different, but Jesus is present in each one of them.

The two disciples on the road to Emmaus were not expecting to see the resurrected Jesus, nor were any of these everyday people expecting to see Jesus in the face of the strangers around them. And yet, the face of Jesus was in each person, in each kind act, in each unexplainable or unexpected situation. They may not have been aware of Jesus in the moment, but looking back it was clear. Jesus in disguise.

            The same is true for us. Everyday in our lives as we go about our errands and activities, we are encountering strangers. We encounter strangers in the checkout line, in the bank or in the car stopped at the light next to us. We encounter strangers in the new employee at work, or the new resident in the retirement community. Each one of those strangers has the potential to be Jesus in disguise, present in your life in ways both big and small.

            The challenge for us, often times, is to slow down and open our eyes to those around us. Who are the strangers around us who embody God’s presence, and when might we be that “Jesus in disguise” for someone else? The Good News for today is that Jesus works in unexpected ways and in unexpected people, the Spirit is always moving.

            So today, let us give thanks for the strangers in our lives, the many “Jesus in Disguise” people who accompany us along the journey. And with God’s help, may we open our eyes and our expectations—because Jesus does indeed walk among us. Thanks be to God, Amen.

Sunday, April 23rd, 2023

Second Sunday in Easter

           Have you ever believed in something that didn’t make sense—something maybe even a little bit ridiculous? One night around bedtime when I was in preschool, I happened to look out my bedroom window. This window faced the back alleyway behind my house, and I was shocked at what I saw! It was dark outside, but I swore that I saw a large gorilla in the alley! If my mother is watching the livestream right now, she is already laughing at me. But I swear—the gorilla in my alleyway must have been King Kong! It was the size of a garbage truck and had bright glowing eyes. It boomed like it was pounding on its chest. In amazement I ran to get my mom, but by the time she got to the window with me, the gorilla was gone.

          My mom laughed and told me that it was probably a garbage truck, but I was not convinced. For days and weeks afterward I looked everyday, and I talked and talked about the gorilla. I simply could not be reasoned with. Even years later my family will still tease me when the topic comes up. It doesn’t make any sense, and I know that, but a part of me still believes it.

          Of course for my family, they could not believe what I thought I had seen because they had not experienced it for themselves, and it simply didn’t make any sense. Why would a gorilla be in the alley behind my house in the middle of a busy city? To my family, it simply wasn’t possible.

          In our gospel today, we hear the well known story of Doubting Thomas, the disciple who refused to believe the resurrection unless he saw it with his own eyes. Thomas often gets a bad wrap—I’ve heard many a sermon chiding Thomas for his perceived lack of faith. But Thomas deserves a break. Thomas is a realist, and like many of us, he looks for things that make sense, and for Thomas, the idea that Jesus had risen from the grave was a gorilla in the alley—that is, not likely.

          I don’t think any of the disciples really understood what Jesus was talking about when he said things like “rising again.” When Jesus died on the cross, I think most of them assumed that was the end of the story. I can imagine the disciples gathered together in that room, hiding themselves away from the outside world and trying to figure out what was next. Mary Magdalene had told them about the empty tomb and her encounter with Jesus, but they had not yet seen it for themselves, so they were understandably skeptical. It was more likely that his body had been taken rather than resurrected. So imagine the shock and amazement when Jesus appeared to them and they could see him with their own eyes. Seeing and experiencing this even—even though it didn’t make sense—was believing.

          But Thomas was not there that day. We don’t know where he was, but he did not see the resurrected Jesus with the rest of the disciples. I wonder how Thomas reacted when he returned to the group and heard their wild story. If I was Thomas, I probably would have assumed that they were trying to play a prank on me, or maybe they had all been driven to some crazy collective make believe story out of their grief. Who knows, but someone dead now alive? That doesn’t make sense.

           I can understand why Thomas doesn’t believe it. Be honest, would you believe it if you were standing in his shoes? Looking back knowing the whole story, we might be tempted to say we would believe, but in reality, Thomas’s response is a human response, and one that most of us would likely have.

          The truth is, we all are like Thomas at some point. We all have doubts and questions in faith when things don’t make sense. A couple of weeks ago we had a movie night here at church and we watch the movie Life of Pi. At one point in the movie, the main character, Pi, is walking with a friend and talking about his faith journey.  He tells how he grew up in India in the Hindu tradition, and later also adopted Christianity and parts of Islam. Pi described faith as “a house with many rooms.” His friend asks him if there is room for doubt, and Pi responds saying, “There is plenty of room for doubt. Doubt is useful, it keeps faith a living thing.” I think this is true, doubt makes us think and reflect, it makes us ask questions, wrestle and grow. Because we will never fully understand the ways of God, doubt is a part of the human experience, and I believe that God is present and working even in our doubt.

          Returning to Thomas’s story, we hear him tell the disciples that he will have to see Jesus for himself before he believes it. What strikes me is that Jesus gave Thomas a full week to sit with his doubt and questions before he finally appeared. We might wonder why it took Jesus a full week to appear again, but I think God knows that sometimes we need time to sit with our doubt in order to grow in faith. But finally, Jesus does appear to Thomas, and when he does he offers Thomas a word of peace and invites him to experience the evidence he needs to affirm his faith once again. In other words, Jesus heard Thomas’s need, and once Thomas was ready, he met Thomas in his doubt and offered reassurance. What an experience that must have been for Thomas.

           In his time of doubt Thomas needed to see Jesus with his own eyes and touch the wounds to affirm his faith, and we must also ask ourselves what it is that we need to trust. What are we supposed to do when we experience those moments of question or doubt? I think we can all agree that there are parts of the Christian story that doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense why the God of the universe would become human, die on a cross and raise from the dead. It’s a strange story, and perhaps, like me, you have been asked before why you believe in something that doesn’t seem possible. In our world today people are looking for science and evidence, and the resurrection story is far from scientific.

          So how might we respond when someone asks us why we believe this story? After all, I don’t know if any of us have physically seen the resurrected Christ. I know I haven’t. But if we think about it, I think most of us would say that we have personally encountered God in other ways, even if we couldn’t physically see, touch or explain. Perhaps you have encountered God in nature, through the kind actions of someone else, or during a difficult time in your life. I have heard stories of people encountering God in a dream, through an answered prayer, or even through a miracle. Whatever it may be in your case, I think most of us would likely say we believe in this story because we have encountered it in one way or another in our own lives. We have seen or experienced the work of the Resurrected Christ in our world here and now, and so we believe in the story and in the hope of the Resurrection Promises. We have experienced the story to  be true.

          But, like Thomas, we will all have doubt and questions at times along the faith journey, and it is okay to wonder and not know the answers. Faith does not necessarily have to make perfect sense for it to be true. After all, faith is a house with many rooms, and we experience and are affirmed in faith in different ways.

God blessed Thomas in his doubting, and likewise God is faithful and meets us in our doubts and questions too. So today may God bless the uncertain, the doubters and the questioners. May God bless those who wrestle in faith, and may God bless our personal encounters with the Risen Christ, our personal stories and witnesses to faith. May God bless the journey. Amen.

Sunday, April 16, 2023

Blessing of the Animals

I didn’t even see him. There were lots of rocks on the path and so I must have just stepped over him. But my husband noticed and called, “Hey, look at this!” I turned around and trudged back up the path – and then I saw him…. It was a little bunny quivering with fear sitting on the path and trying to look like a rock. He succeeded with me. But now he was shaking in fear because he couldn’t get out. He was so little and the ruts of the path were too steep and deep for him to climb out. He trembled at the sight of what must have looked to him as two giant creatures. He did not know it was his lucky day because we had no intention of making him into a tiny Hasenpfeffer stew.

 Instead, we just stood there and looked at him for a moment and asked him, “Why are you in the path instead of hiding in the bushes? Don’t you know that you are lunchmeat for a hawk or any bird of prey that flies by?” The bunny didn’t say anything. It just shook with fear. 

 I’m not a big fan of the rabbits who eat my garden plants and vegetables. But this poor little creature seemed so helpless and I felt strangely responsible for him. I wondered, should I help him out of the path? I took a step closer to him.

 And then, all at once, he jumped on my boot and ran through my legs and continued scurrying down the path until, finally, he came to a place in the path that was flatter and he was able to jump off the path and escape into the brush.

 In our Gospel lesson, Jesus challenges his disciples to notice the birds of the air and the flowers of the field and to see the way that God cares for them. And, by extension, the way God cares for us too.

 I don’t know what happened to that bunny after we left, but I was reminded that the first step of caring for God’s creatures might be to notice them so that I don’t step on them!  

 So how do we properly care for our fellow creatures?

 In Genesis, it says that God gave human beings the charge of ruling over all of the creatures of the land, sea and sky. But in the past, that has often been interpreted as “subjugating” and using to our own benefit all of the other creatures. But with the power to rule also comes responsibility. God has given us power over but also responsibility to care for all that fly, swim, walk or crawl. And when we don’t exercise our rule with care and responsibility, it isn’t good for the creatures or, ultimately, for us.  

 I was walking by Lake of the Isles the other day and saw two different people walking their dogs. The first man wasn’t walking – he had the dog on a very long leash and was actually running, chasing his dog around the lake.  They looked like they were having fun until suddenly, the dog went one way around a tree and the young man went the other.  After they untangled themselves, I thought certainly the young man had learned his lesson. But no sooner had they started down the path again than the dog notices a duck on the water and he practically drags the young man into the lake! 

 By contrast, the other man who was walking his dog had the dog on a shorter leash and the dog was right at his side. Almost under his breath, the man said, “pace,” and immediately, the dog looked up at the man and matched his pace. The man changed speed a couple of time and the dog followed, happily looking up to the man to receive a smile of praise.

 Clearly, the second man was in charge, he was “ruling,” but in a manner that demonstrated responsibility and care for the animal. This man inspired me with the way he cared for his four-footed companion.

 God has entrusted us with the care of the land, water and all of earth’s creatures. So let us not only notice them but care for all of God’s creation in a healthy and respectful way. After all, the animals, birds and all that swim in the sea and creep on the land are God’s creatures too. 

And we would be wise to listen to them. As John writes in the book of Revelation, “I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea, and all that is in them, singing” praises to God.” For they too have a song to sing and praises to proclaim to God. But, maybe we just don’t know their language.

 On this day we celebrate creation and bless both the animals that we live with and care for as pets and the animals, birds and fish that God cares for in the wild. Let us have notice the wonderful variety of God’s creatures and seek to listen, care for and appreciate all creatures – great and small. Amen.

 Sunday, April 16, 2023 + Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran + Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

Easter Sunday, April 9, 2023

Easter Sunday

Holy Gospel Matthew 28:1-10

Sorrow gives way to “fear and great joy” when two women are sent by an angel to proclaim the good news: Jesus is risen! Jesus meets them and again proclaims, “Do not be afraid.”

The Gospel according to Matthew, the 28th chapter 

Glory to you O Lord.

After the sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. And suddenly there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord, descending from heaven, came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow. For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men. But the angel said to the women, ‘Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples, “He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.” This is my message for you.’ So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his disciples. Suddenly Jesus met them and said, ‘Greetings!’ And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.’

The Gospel of the Lord. 

Praise to you, O Christ.

 Suddenly, the earth starts to shake, and an angel as bright as lighting and shining as the whitest snow descends from above and rolls the stone away from the tomb. Frightened, the guards faint – or as Matthew writes, they “become like dead men.”

 The women – Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, probably Jesus’ mother -- are afraid too. Wouldn’t you be?

 But the angel has a word for the two Marys, saying… literally, “Do not you be afraid.” The angel knows that unlike the guards who were there because of their supposed strength, the women had come with broken hearts, carrying grief and sorrow and broken dreams. The strength of the guards is no match for the piercing brightness of the angel. But the angel treats those who come in faith, with broken hearts and with mingled fear and sorrow differently. To them he says, “Look, the tomb is the empty. Jesus, the crucified one, whom you are looking for, is not inside – He has been raised. Go and tell the disciples.”

 Their fear doesn’t leave them, but the words of the angel fill the women with great joy. And so it is that with both fear and great joy the women run to tell the story.

 And that is why we are here – for when fear holds hands with joy, courage is born. Courage – which is the ability to do something even though it frightens you -- gave Mary Magdalene and Mary, the mother of James and John and Jesus, the strength to share the Good News of Jesus’ resurrection. And that changed the whole world.

 By itself, fear can be paralyzing (like the guards). And goodness knows there are plenty of things to be afraid of in our world. The news is full of wars, earthquakes, shootings, fires and deadly storms. And like the Marys in our Gospels, our hearts still break with the news of the pain of this broken world – and of our own brokenness as well as the pain and suffering of people we know and love.

But, because of the witness of these two Marys and countless others who have had the courage to share the good news with us, we also carry both fear and great joy. On the strength of their witness, we know that the brokenness of our world is not the end of the story.

 A few months ago, I read a Japanese folk tale about the servant of a feudal lord in Japan. This servant worked in the teahouse – and one day, he broke a tea bowl. Now, I would assume that if you work in a tea house, sometimes the dishes might get broken. But in Japan at this time, tea sets were very valuable and this particular bowl happened to be the favorite of his master. The servant knew that not only was he in trouble, but that this would bring shame to his entire family. The only way he could imagine that his family could be redeemed -- was by his death. And so…he was very afraid. But what should he do? He could try to hide the bowl. But since the broken tea bowl was a favorite – it would be missed. And if his master found it, broken, he would be in even bigger trouble and would certainly be put to death.

 But this young man did not want to die. He had a wife and child, whom he loved and who brought him great joy. He picked up the broken pieces of the bowl and saw that while they were cracked, they were not smashed to smithereens… and then he had an idea.  He took all of the gold money that he had been saving and melted it with lacquer– and then, very carefully, put the bowl back together, filling all the cracks with gold. It was stunning. When the bowl was dry, he composed a song and, with great courage, he started to sing as he brought the bowl to his master.

The master was surprised but also delighted at how beautiful the bowl had become. And so, instead of punishing the servant, he praised him for creating something beautiful out of what was once broken.

This story is a folktale. But the method of repair is real and became known as Kintsugi, the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold, silver or platinum.  The goal of Kintsugi is to not simply repair or even restore the pottery to what it was – but rather to transform it into something even more beautiful. 1

This is the story of Easter. What was broken has not been simply restored or fixed or patched back together. Instead, Jesus transforms us by pouring the love of God into our hearts, filling the cracks in our broken world and our broken lives. 

 Oh, we still live in a broken world with mortal bodies. We will still receive that hard phone call in the middle of the night. We still suffer grief and loss.  And yet, Jesus says to you, “Do not be afraid.” This is the same message the angel gave the women and that Jesus repeats when he meets them in the midst of their journey. “Do not be afraid.”

 “Do not be afraid” for just as the resurrected Jesus joined the women on the path, so too, Jesus is with you – on the road, on the path,

on your journey.  And while there is much in the world that could dampen our hope and cause us to despair, we dare to live with courage because our fears are holding hands with Jesus’ joyful Easter message. The power of death, despair and fear will be overwhelmed by the life, love and joy of Christ.

 Winston Churchill apparently understand this. At the end of his funeral service, which he planned himself, a lone trumpeter stood at the west end of the chapel and played “Taps” – the song that signals the end of the day and is often played at military funerals. But just as the last note of “Taps” was dying out, another trumpeter stood at the East side of the chapel and played, “Rev el ee” – the song of the morning and a call to a new day.2

 This is the hope and the promise of Easter. Do not be afraid. Transformed and made whole by God’s love, you are called to a new day in Christ. So let us rejoice and sing. Thanks be to God. Amen.

 Easter Sunday, April 9, 2023                   Faith-Lilac Way             Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane          

 1https://tsugu-tsugu.shop-kintsugi.com/blogs/tsugu-tsugu-columns/the-history-of-kintsugi

2 https://www.workingpreacher.org/dear-working-preacher/easter-courage, David Lose, 2014

Sunday, April 2, 2023

Palm Sunday Meditation

Matthew 21:1-11

Journeying into Jerusalem

            “Hosanna, Hosanna in the highest!” What a joyous and celebratory scene this is. The crowds have heard that Jesus, a King is coming! He rides humbly on a donkey and the people wave palm branches and create a pathway into the city.  They are full of hope for this coming king, but what kind of King is he?

            The people are hoping that Jesus will be the one to liberate them from Roman oppression, but little do they know that Jesus has come to do something much greater. The people do not understand, and in just a few short days this same crowd will be the ones shouting, “Crucify! Crucify!”

            I like to think that I am always the one to wave the palm branches and shout praises, but I know that is not always true. There are moments—more than I would like to admit—when I am more like the crowd shouting for crucifixion. I do not always see, I do not always understand what Jesus is doing, and sometimes I am in the way, shouting my condemnations.

            On Palm Sunday I must reflect on the times when I am giving praise to Jesus, and when my actions attempt to condemn Jesus. And all the more, I must give thanks for God’s faithfulness. Even as I stand in the crowd and shout, “Crucify!”, Jesus is still going to the cross for me. Even when I turn away, Jesus still willingly dies on the cross. This is depth of God’s love. God’s love for me, for you, for the neighbor, for all of us. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Sunday, March 26, 2023

5th Sunday in Lent -Mental Health Focus Week Two           

As I shared last week, Faith Lilac Way is spending the last two weeks of March talking about and exploring mental health, so today I will be talking more on that subject. Last week I shared my story with mental health, and this week I would like to tell you little bit about my friend Jace.

          I have known Jace since we were kids, and as kids we were close enough that people frequently mistook us for brother and sister. Jace is kind, likes to laugh and be silly, and is the kind of person who will stand up for what he believes in. He is not afraid to be his own person, and I have always admired who he is as a person.

           Overall Jace is a great guy, but he does have his challenges too. Jace has ADHD, had learning difficulties in school and also experiences anxiety and occasional delusions. There are times when it is hard for him to distinguish between reality and what he thinks happened. For example, I remember him once calling me late one night when he was certain he had seen aliens looking in his windows during a thunderstorm. Jace is not crazy by any means, but sometimes the lines of clarity can be blurry, especially when he is anxious.

          Growing up with these conditions made life difficult for Jace in a lot of ways. Jace struggled in school academically because he had too much energy to focus, and his brain couldn’t process the material in the same way that worked for other students. Socially he was considered the weird kid and sometimes his strong sense of right and wrong could get him into trouble. For example, I remember he was once suspended from school for a few days after getting into a fight while defending another student who was being bullied. His intentions were always good, but sometimes those intentions got the better of him when it came to acting in those situations.

          Even now as an adult life can sometimes be difficult for Jace. It can be hard for him to maintain a job for a long period of time, and it can be hard for him to relate to others in the way he would like to. He has shared with me before how lonely he can feel, and sometimes he feels trapped in his mental health. He even once asked me why God made him the way he was.

          Unfortunately, Jace’s feelings of disconnectedness is not uncommon for people facing mental health challenges, as many people with mental illness describe feeling lonely or trapped by their condition. I know I found it hard for myself to feel connected to life and those around me when I was really struggling.

           In our gospel today we hear the story of Lazarus, and I think it is a fitting story as we think about mental health and mental illness. Lazarus was going about living his life when he for whatever reason became sick. There was nothing that he had done to cause his illness, it just happened and that sickness caused his death. Similarly, a person struggling with mental illness may also feel as if a part of them has died or been lost. Just as Lazarus was trapped by sickness and death, a person with mental illness can feel as if they are trapped by their condition as it prevents them from living their lives the way they would like to. It can be a very difficult thing.

          Now, I don’t know why mental illness exists in the world, all I can say is that the world is imperfect and it is part of being human to at times struggle. Mental illness is not a punishment from God nor is it a sign of weakness or a lack of faith. For whatever reason, mental illness just exists.

          So with that truth in mind, the question is how can we—both as Christians and as fellow humans in the world—respond to mental illness? I think there are a few different ways. Sometimes we might be like Mary and Martha from our gospel today, asking Jesus why he didn’t prevent this from happening. Other times we might be like the mourners in the story, weeping over lost hope and dashed dreams. Both of these responses are human nature, and it is certainly okay to grieve or ask questions of God. Even Jesus wept for Lazarus. But there is another way we might respond to mental illness as well.

          In our gospel story today, Jesus miraculously calls Lazarus from a state of death to life once again. Acting in faith, Jesus rises Lazarus from a place of darkness and hopelessness and brings Lazarus back into light and life. Now, I want to be careful to say that mental illness is not something that can be magically cured—while many people do recover from mental illness, there are some mental health diagnoses that are life long—but even so with hope and proper support people with mental health conditions can still live purposeful and meaningful lives.

          And that is what I think that we as people, and as the Church, are called to do. We are called to support people with mental health conditions, to walk alongside them in their journey and to help point the way toward hope. In community we are called to support and lift one another up, especially when times are tough. We are called in community to be people of hope and people of life.

          So what might it look like for the church to support mental health?

          First, churches can be educated about mental illness. Mental illness is something that churches can and should talk about, just as we have been talking about it the last couple of weeks. Knowing about mental illness prepares us to be empathetic, and we can also be educated about available resources to offer further support. Faith-Lilac Way, for example, has a list of local resources that can be shared to connect people to help. Studies show that many folks will talk to their pastor about mental health before a doctor, so the church has an opportunity and responsibility to be a bridge for people who need help.

          Second, the church can push back against negative or harmful theology—for example the idea that “praying hard enough” will fix a mental illness. Prayer is powerful and helpful—we should definitely be praying with and for folks who are hurting—but there should not be shame if someone also needs professional help or a medication to support their mental health. I have used and benefitted from both at different times in my life.

          Third, as American citizens we can support and vote for legislation that will build up our mental health system both locally and nationally. Across the country there is a shortage of mental health professionals, mental health care funds, and a shortage of space in mental health treatment centers. Some people will wait weeks or even months to get the help they need. During my time as a hospital chaplain I was shocked by the number of mental health patients I met who were admitted to the hospital but unable to get a bed in the mental healthcare unit. I don’t know what the solution may be to this bigger issue, but simply being aware of the need and speaking out can go a long way in helping to solve the problem.

          Fourth, people with mental illness deserve supportive community. We all need a place where we can belong and a place where we can be valued. They deserve to be seen as a full person and not defined by their condition. We all need to hear that we are loved and cared for by someone else, and church can and should be a place where we can find that kind of community.

          Finally, and most importantly, people need to hear the hope of God’s love. People need to know that God sees them and knows them, that God walks with them in their pain and that no matter what they are a Child of God. People need to know that God’s promises are for them and that there is reason to have hope. Sometimes the greatest gift we can give to someone is to tell them and treat them as if they are loved.

          In all of these ways we can be like Jesus, acting in faith to call people from a place of hopelessness to a place of light and life.

          To tell you a little bit more about my friend Jace, he grew up in the church and in fact that is where we met and became such good friends. The church was not perfect because no church is, but the church community did do some good things to support Jace and his family. Jace was given opportunities to go to church camp, be a part of the youth group and go on mission trips. The church found ways to include Jace and his family despite the challenges that could at times bring, but I think doing these things is what Jesus would have done. The church could not “fix” Jace or erase his challenges in life, but the church could offer community and words of God’s love, and sometimes that is what Jace needed most.

          I pray that Faith-Lilac Way and all churches can be a place of community and love for all people, including those with mental illness. May we be educated about those with mental health challenges. May we patient and compassionate, and may we be willing to offer a supportive hand when needed. May we be a place of radical inclusion, and with God’s help may we be like Jesus, a community that supports life and dignity, calling people to hope even when things seem hopeless. May we be the hands and feet of Jesus to people like Jace and many others who face similar challenges. Let it be so. Amen.

Sunday, March 19, 2023

4th Sunday in Lent Mental Health Focus March 19th, 2023

            During these last two weeks of March, Faith Lilac Way is talking about mental health. Many churches struggle to talk about mental health and mental illness, but it is an important topic, nonetheless. According to NAMI, the National Alliance on Mental Illness, in any given year 1 in 5 adults (20%), will face a mental health challenge. With statistics like these it is likely that we have members in our congregation and community who face mental health challenges. You may have a member in your family, a friend, or a colleague who struggles with mental health. Perhaps you have had challenges with your mental health before.

            Mental health is also a topic that I am passionate about and as we begin the conversation, I would like to share some of my own mental health journey with you today, as well as where I found God along the way. I believe in the power of sharing stories, and I am at a point in my life now where I can share my experiences. I can even say now that I am thankful for these experiences, though it took a long time to reach this point. At the same time though, it can be a difficult story to share and to hear, so at any time if you feel triggered or need to take a break from listening, it is okay to step out of the room. Self-care is important, so please do what is best for you as I share my story.

            I had my first panic attack when I was 6 years old. I was in kindergarten and had the day off from school, so my mom was taking me to a friend’s house. We were driving down the interstate in the family van when we got into a minor car accident. The damage consisted of a dented bumper and some leaked fluid. There were no injuries, and I didn’t even know what had happened at first. But standing on the side of the road and looking at the dented bumper and dripping coolant, something happened to me.

            I felt like I was dying, and I really thought I could be. My heart raced and felt like heart palpitations. A deep sense of dread and terror fell upon me, and the world was closing in. My body felt tight and heavy, and I was shaking. I was dizzy and felt sick to my stomach. I couldn’t stop crying. I kept trying to scream but it was hard to breathe. No one could console me. I even remember the confusion and fear on the face of the other driver as she and my mom helplessly watched me panic. It was awful.

            Unfortunately, as the years went on the panic attacks continued, became more frequent and even more intense. The feeling of dread lived in the pit of my stomach as a part of my daily life, to the point that I often felt physically sick. I would have panic attacks over things such as the weather, being lost, unfamiliar places, or not being able to control something. I could never, ever be left home alone, and even in middle school I would take and hide my mom’s car keys so she couldn’t go anywhere without my knowing. I would have panic attacks at school terrified that no one would be there to pick me up, even though that had never happened before.

            My anxiety consumed my life and restricted the life of my family. I couldn’t turn it off or hold it in no matter how hard I tried (and believe me, I really did try!). I would pray constantly asking God to take my fear away, but the anxiety continued, nevertheless. My family couldn’t go out to places like concerts in the park, nor could my mom go out for an evening with friends. My mom tried hard to help me and sometimes she got frustrated, wanting to fix things and not knowing how. Sometimes my sister would get angry at me if we couldn’t do something because of me, and I had fights with friends who didn’t understand why I was afraid. I carried so much guilt and shame. I was in 5th grade the first time I seriously contemplated suicide. I just wanted to make it stop, and I wanted to stop hurting the people around me. I believed that it would be better for the people I loved if I wasn’t around to burden them.

            In that way, I think I can relate to the blind man in our gospel today. As a blind person in that day and age, he had no opportunities for work and no way to provide for himself. He had to rely on the charity of others, and he was an economic drain on his friends and family. He had no dignity or agency, and to add to his stress he also had to carry the social stigma of being a disabled person, as it was common in that time—as pointed out by the disciples—to believe that disability or illness was the result of sin. I wonder if he believed that too, if he carried the guilt and shame wondering what he had done to deserve this lot in life. I know I struggled with those kinds of thoughts with my own anxiety and depression. I wonder if, like me, he ever wondered if it was better for him to have never been born. Where was God, and why would God allow him to suffer in this way? I asked those same questions. Maybe, I thought, God had just given up on both of us.

            Well, it took many long years of patience, therapy, and medication for me to reach a place of mental stability. In high school I finally started to feel a little more normal. My anxiety and depression were still there, but I was able to better cope.

             It was in 10th grade that I became friends with a girl at school that I will call Nicole. Nicole was kind, bubbly and enjoyed talking and laughing. She was a great person and fun to be around. But then, halfway through the school year, Nicole drastically changed. She became reserved and quiet, actively withdrawing from her friends and pushing them away. She began failing classes, ate lunch alone every day and wouldn’t talk to anyone as if everyone was invisible.

            Hurt and confused, after a few weeks our friends gave up trying and left her alone. I wanted to give up too, but something in me kept trying. She wouldn’t talk to me but I would talk to her, and I would sit at her lunch table even when she got up and moved away. I just kept trying. It was in Spanish class one day that her sleeve rolled up just enough to expose the cuts she had been carving into her arm. I didn’t know why, but I knew my friend was deeply hurting. She needed help, and she needed to know that she was not alone.

            During study hall the next day I confronted her about the cuts on her arms. I told her that I knew something was seriously wrong, and whatever it was I didn’t want her to go through it alone. I cared about her, even if she didn’t want me to. She wasn’t going to scare me away. She was silent but for once she didn’t get up and move away from me. So I sat there doing my homework and just waiting. And finally, after twenty minutes or so of awkward but persistent silence, she told me what was happening. She confided in me that she had been sexually assaulted at the school. She felt ashamed and was too afraid to tell anyone, and she was afraid when she saw the person who had hurt her in the halls. She was cutting her arms daily and told me she wanted to die. She needed the hurt to stop.

            I couldn’t relate to Nicole’s circumstances, but I could relate to the pain she felt because I carried pain of my own. I shared with her my own experiences with anxiety, depression and suicide. I told her that she was not alone, her life mattered and things could get better. I promised to support her, and together we went to the school counselor to report what had happened to her and get her some help.

            Nicole spent three weeks in an inpatient psychiatric program getting therapy, medication, and learning new and healthier ways to cope. She was finally released from the hospital and able to come back to school, but her recovery wasn’t over. It took months of hard work, social and professional support for her symptoms to improve, but bit by bit she was getting better and finding her new normal. Over that time, she and I had many, many conversations about mental health, our experiences and even about God and faith in the midst of it all.

            A year later Nicole invited me to her 16th birthday party. She was back to laughing and telling stories, enjoying the day and her friends. It was great to see her happy. And later as the party came to an end, Nicole pulled me aside and handed me a small box from her pocket. She gave it to me and inside was a small sunshine necklace. With tears in her eyes, she thanked me for playing a big part in saving her life. Wow—I was incredibly humbled. All I had done was present and share my story, and it had made a bigger difference in her life than I had realized.

            In our gospel today the disciples ask Jesus if the man had been born blind because of his sin, and Jesus tells them no. The man was not born blind because of sin, because God does not choose to punish people in that way. I want to be very clear in saying that God does not choose to inflict people with disabilities, illnesses or disabilities. God does not cause this suffering—we just happen to live in an imperfect and sometimes broken world. Bad and difficult things can happen to us, and there isn’t always a reason why.

            But Jesus continues in his answer.  This man, though blind, can still reflect God’s love and promises to the world. Even this perceived disability cannot stop God. God can and does still work in and through broken people and situations. There is still hope for healing and new life, even in situations that seem hopeless. God did not heal the blind man because the blind man was broken, but rather to open the man’s eyes to his value. When the world told the blind man that he was broken, Jesus reminded the blind man that his life mattered, no exceptions. The life of that blind man, the life of the person with mental illness, the life of the homeless person down the street—all our lives—all of us matter and have hope and purpose in God. That is the kind of God we worship, and I am gosh darn thankful for that.

            During my periods of deepest depression and anxiety, I was blind to God’s grace and presence. I believed that nothing good could come from what I was experiencing, but now after my experience with Nicole, I give thanks all the more for God’s grace and promises because I have experienced them first hand. God took my brokenness, my most painful and vulnerable parts, and used them to bring new life and hope to someone else. God can and does use all of me, just as God can use every part of you. There is nothing and no one that is too far from God’s grace, and nothing that can separate us from God’s loving hope.

            It is in that hope that I share my story with you today. In my story I hope that you hear that you are loved and never alone. I hope that you hear in a new way that mental health matters. I hope you hear that there are people who care and that God is faithfully at work even in the most difficult of circumstances. I still have to be careful to take care of my mental health, and I still have times when I struggle, but I do have hope in God’s presence in the midst of it. I hope you hear that you can trust in God’s promises and look to see where God is present in your story. We all have stories to tell of God’s hope and we certainly live in a world that is in need of that hope, so may God use us and our stories—even our broken parts—to bring hope and new life. Thanks be to God, Amen.

Sunday, March 12, 2023

Woman at the Well

The woman walked out of the city carrying her water jar. Again. She had done this every day… sometimes many times a day. It was already noon. The sun was hot and she knew the jar was going to be a lot heavier on the way back.

 “Will you give me a drink of water?” Surprised – she looked up. But the only person she was a Jewish man. She wondered out loud: “What was he – a Jewish man - doing, asking her - a Samaritan woman -- for a drink of water?”

 It wasn’t a big request.  She was standing right beside the well with a jar for water. But surely, he knew that culturally, politically, and socially, it was a big taboo for him to talk to her. And yet none of those barriers seemed to bother Jesus.

 He even knew who she was – and that she had five husbands and that the one who she was living with was not her husband. He seemed to know her whole story – and yet he didn’t condemn her like other people did who assumed that there must be something wrong with her. Instead of shaming her, this man offers her life-giving water and reveals to her, that he is the Messiah, the Christ, the one that they have all been waiting for.

 What a morning! What began as a routine walk to the well outside the city ended up transforming her life. The woman – we don’t even know her name - abandons her water jar and goes and tells the community about Jesus. And even though she doesn’t even know whether to believe it or not herself, she becomes the first evangelical preacher. Her message raises enough faithful curiosity in the community that they believe it too and want to hear more. So Jesus stays and teaches for two more days. And then the whole community believes.

 The taboos that separated the Jewish-Samaritan people seem pretty foreign to us. Men couldn’t talk with women. Jews and Samaritans were distantly related – but there was bad family history – and so they couldn’t even talk with one another. Clergy – the rabbis -- couldn’t touch anyone who might be ritually unclean – and that could include any number of things so they would NEVER touch a woman who was of childbearing age… but then they wouldn’t touch a woman anyway…. So clearly there was no hugging the pastor. There were a lot of rules. There was a lot of division. And Jesus cut through it all with a simple request for a drink of water.

 It’s easy for us to see the divisions between the Jewish and Samaritan people – but what about the divisions in our world, in our country, in our communities. As a country, we are divided politically; by who we trust to give us the news; by how we feel about a whole realm of social issues and even what words are acceptable to say. And yet… Jesus cuts through all of our divisions too.

 A young man standing on the corner with a clipboard asked Sister Helen, “Hey would you be willing to write a letter to a man on death row?”

 It was a simple request. Sister Helen had been an English major and enjoyed writing. So, it didn’t seem like too much trouble. So, she wrote a letter. She had become a nun before Vatican II and she had assumed that her whole life would simply be a life of prayer in the cloistered halls of the monastery. But all that had changed after Vatican II when the pope invited the nuns to come out of the monasteries and serve the poor. She figured prisoners were poor so by being a pen pal she would be serving the poor.

 The man wrote back. He wrote that no one would visit him – and so she thought that wouldn’t be too much trouble either. The prison wasn’t far away. So, she visited him in the prison and he asked if she would be his spiritual advisor. She was a nun – and he clearly had no one else -- so she agreed. She didn’t know that meant that she would be the last person, the only person who wasn’t happy to see him dead, to be with him when he was executed. He was admittedly guilty and had done horrific things – and yet while he told her that she didn’t have to come – she told him that she wanted the last face for him to see to be a face of love and not a face of hatred. She wanted to be Jesus’ face for him.

Sister Helen Prejean tells her story and the story of Pat Sonnier,

in the book which became a movie, “Dead Man Walking.”  Reflecting back, Sister Helen said she had no idea that when she agreed to write a letter to a man on death row, it would transform her life into becoming an advocate for eliminating the death penalty.  This is the work, she said, of “sneaky Jesus.” 1

 “Sneaky Jesus” cut through all the taboos of the Samaritans and Jewish people. “Sneaky Jesus” transformed Sr. Helen’s ministry of prayer to becoming an advocate of life and dignity for all people – even those who had killed another. And Jesus – “Sneaky Jesus” as Sr. Helen calls him-- is still at work in our world. For Jesus invites all of us – regardless of who we are, what burdens we carry, or what barriers and divisions we imagine separate us from others – to hear and share the Good News of Jesus. Thanks be to God!

 Amy Starr Redwine,No Shame in That A Sermon for Every Sunday, Lent 3A https://asermonforeverysunday.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/03/Amy-Starr-Redwine-Samaritan-Woman.pdf