Sunday, February 4, 2024

Sermon:  Mark 1:29-39                  Prayer and Relationship as Self-Care

One of the things I love most about the Gospel of Mark is that Mark takes the Incarnation seriously.  Mark doesn’t paint Jesus as God incognito, as God camouflaged in human form, but retaining all the omni-powers and the inexhaustible strength of God Almighty, totally devoid of human weakness.  No.  Mark portrays Jesus as extraordinarily human, with human needs and frailties.  Mark’s Jesus gets frustrated, irritated, angry, impatient, grumpy, sad, disappointed, and in Gethsemane, even reluctant and frightened.)  I’m not suggesting that Mark denies the divinity of Jesus.  Only that he emphasizes Jesus’ humanity. 

Emphasizing the humanness of Jesus is important to Mark because Mark also takes discipleship very seriously.  Mark recognizes that there is more to salvation than the cross and resurrection.  The life and the teachings of Jesus are also important and need to be followed as examples for kingdom living.  A disciple is literally a student who follows in the footsteps of his or her teacher—learning to walk and talk and think and live his life the same way as the teacher.  By stressing the humanity of Jesus, Mark can insist that Jesus is, indeed, someone we can truly follow and imitate.  It makes discipleship something doable, something reasonably possible.  It obliterates the excuse that being like Jesus is impossible because no human can become perfect, like God.  Mark insists that Jesus’ way of life and his teachings are to be studied thoroughly and applied and incorporated into our own lives.  Jesus is our example to follow and emulate. 

In today’s gospel, Jesus goes to Peter’s house, (right after he casts a demon out of a man in the synagogue) and heals Peter’s mother-in-law.  He and his new friends then sit down and relax as she gets up and sets about the business of hospitality, providing them with food and lodgings, as was an important custom in those days.  Somehow, the whole town hears the news that there’s a miracle worker in town who can heal people, and as the saying goes, good news travels fast—even without cell phones, radio, or newspapers.  Come evening, every person in town that is diseased or disabled or emotionally disturbed shows up outside Peter’s house, hoping to be healed, and the rest of the town comes to witness the event.  Jesus dutifully obliges and goes about healing many who are sick or disabled, and casting out demons. 

Now if we think of Jesus, as we tend to do, as God with all God’s strengths and powers, we might imagine that this is a nearly effortless task for Jesus, who just walks along touching them all and saying, “Be well,” or “Be clean,” or “Get up and go home and sin no more.”  But we know that when the woman who had been hemorrhaging for twelve years just touches his cloak, Jesus feels power drain out of him, and looks around to see who touched him.  So, if we think of Jesus as a human being who must take some time and expend some energy, feel some empathy, show compassion as he heals person after person, well, then you can imagine Jesus might feel exhausted, drained physically, emotionally, and spiritually, by the time everyone finally leaves. 

I know a little bit about how tiring it is, physically and emotionally, to work for hours with people who are sick, or dying, day after day.  I spent a whole summer doing just that.  Every Seminary student that intends to become a pastor or deacon is required to take one unit of Clinical Pastoral Education—CPE for short.  I did mine two summers ago, at the hospital in St. Cloud.  Yep… my commute was almost twice as far—too far to make every day.  So, I had to rent a dorm room in a nearby Catholic college for the summer and drive home on weekends whenever I didn’t have overnight weekend shifts in the hospital.  CPE is intense.  It’s not just spending lots of time ministering to patients in every part of the hospital and learning and practicing ministry skills, which can be exhausting by itself.  CPE also includes difficult self-analysis, identifying personal biases, strengths and weaknesses and emotional triggers, analyzing personality traits, questioning everything you say and do and why you say and do them, and helping others to do the same.  It can be a very stressful and confrontational process.  And the instructor is always looking for red flags, evaluating your progress and your fitness for ministry. As you might imagine, I felt totally drained at the end of every day.  And to top it off, there was homework every night.

I expected it to be hard.  I was in a strange town, in a dorm that was practically empty aside from myself and a couple of monastics.  My dorm was on the third floor, with no A/C and the temperature was about 90 degrees every night the entire summer, so I got very little sleep.  I didn’t have my family and friends with me to lean on or cheer me on.  It was the first time I was ever away from my husband and kids and pets for such an extended time.  I also had to give up my gardening, which was always very therapeutic for me.  It wasn’t an ideal situation, but this was where God had led me.  As you can imagine, I often found myself feeling lonely and stressed, and my eyes tended to sprout leaks whenever it was time for the class to focus on me, my strengths, and my deficiencies.

The college I was housed at had lots of beautiful monastic gardens, but they were off limits.  Ther was also a lake with hiking trails, so, I tried hiking along the paths.  But it was hot and muggy, and the mosquitoes were unbearable on the trails.  Worse yet, when I got back to my dorm, I discovered I had picked up lots of hitch-hiking wood ticks.  All the next week I was continually finding more and more of them, in my bed, even crawling on the walls and carpet.  So, suffice it to say that hiking in the woods along the lake was not a viable replacement for the garden solace I was longing for.  

My classmates were two women from Luther that I hadn’t met and two Catholic priests-in-training from Wisconsin.  We spent so much time questioning and analyzing each other, that we got to know each other well, really fast.  My new friends quickly realized that I was getting run down and having a hard time finding a way to recharge my batteries.  The guys figured out how much I loved and missed my gardens and being outdoors and started scouting out the neighborhoods around the hospital and locating all the yards with beautiful gardens and began taking me on walks with them during breaks, making sure to stop by all the gardens they had found.  The girls quickly followed suit and located walking paths along the river behind the hospital, lined with wildflowers, and started inviting me to hike with them.   We all started having lunch together, outside, as often as possible.  This was all helpful, but still not enough.  No matter what I tried, I just felt my cup running dry, and I just couldn’t understand why.  So, the next time I went home, despite how exhausted I was, I decided to spend a few hours sitting in the grass weeding my flower beds.  That’s when I figured it out.

I had forgotten one of the most important lessons in this gospel reading.  It was the same lesson my prayer professor tried to drill into all her students.  And it was the reason I missed my gardens—because in my gardens, whether I am pulling weeds, planting seeds or picking beans or tomatoes, I am constantly meditating and praying, constantly talking to God.  Sometimes, when there’s no one else around, I even talk to God out loud.  Don’t get me wrong, I was praying all the time. I was praying with and for my patients and their families, and for the doctors and nurses who tended them, praying with and for my classmates, praying for my family and friends.  I was praying more often than I think I had ever prayed in my life, and I had lots of people praying for me, too.  And I was listening, as well.  I listened as I entered each patient’s room, for the Holy Spirit to guide me in what to say, what to ask, what to offer my patients and their families.   I was even practicing guided meditation with some of my patients whose pain wasn’t managed well enough by medication. 

But I wasn’t doing these things for myself.  I wasn’t praying and meditating the way I do when I’m gardening.  I wasn’t having the same sort of personal, two-way conversation with God.  When I’m gardening, I remember that God is my best, closest and most devoted friend, and that I can tell God anything and everything.  I can be completely honest with God, and I can be me, and that is enough.  When I’m gardening, I pour out my heart and soul to God the way I would to my husband or a dear old friend.  And I ask God questions about things I wonder about and things I wrestle with, about whatever pops up in my head when I’m hot and sweaty and covered with dirt, all by myself in my back yard.  I take time to be still and listen, waiting patiently and expectantly for God’s reply to come floating on the breeze, or whispered amid the chatter of the birds, or fluttering to me on butterfly wings.  And I listen to the sound of my heart, the sound of leaves rustling, the buzzing of the bees, and let them inspire me, forming images and ideas in my mind.  When clouds pass by, I imagine them raining down God’s love on me, soaking me to the bone.  This is the sort of prayer that fills my cup.  This is prayer that keeps my batteries charged for ministry—because it nurtures my most important relationship—my primary source of strength.  Because "my primary relationship,” as my prayer professor told us over and over and over again, “is my relationship with God.”  

Drained and exhausted though Jesus is after healing a whole town full of ailing people, Jesus gets up, well before dawn, and goes to an isolated spot to pray. Jesus is fully aware that his relationship with God is his most important relationship.  Jesus never forgets that, and he always carves out time and space for conversation with God.  It is this primary relationship that gives him strength, guidance, power, hope, assurance, and confidence.  Like every other human being, Jesus is designed for relationship, relationship with other humans, and more importantly, designed for relationship with God.  Jesus constructs for himself a support network of human beings, but above and beyond that, what Jesus needs most, what Jesus relies on most, is a close and healthy relationship with God, and such relationships are founded on prayer, one-on-one, private, open, honest, conversation with God that includes asking questions and listening long and close with an open mind and open heart, in the pre-dawn stillness, for answers.  No matter which Gospel we read, we will find that Jesus goes off to pray frequently, before and after big miracles, to recharge his batteries, to replenish his energy and refresh his spirit.  This is a lesson we all need to learn—and something we should all be practicing. 

So, I have a few questions for you to ponder.  How is your relationship with God?  How often do you engage in deep, one-on-one conversation with God?  Is it part of your daily or weekly routine?  How often do you listen for God’s voice in the stillness?  Is there a place or time that works best for you?  Remember, we are all in ministry together, and ministry is most effective when supported by frequent conversation with God.  Take time to nurture that primary relationship.  God wants to hear from you.  Take it from someone who learned the hard way—it’s worth the time and effort.  It’s more than worth it—it's nourishment for your heart and soul, fuel for your journey through life. 

Sunday, January 28, 2024

Love Builds Up!

January 28, 2024  +  Faith-Lilac Way  +  Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane        

Have you ever been to an exorcism? I’m guessing that most – if not all of us – would say no. I know that exorcisms still happen. I’ve had conversations with Africans who have participated in exorcisms as a part  of their church life. But for most of us, what comes to mind when you hear the word, “exorcism” is a movie which, personally, I can’t watch. Even spy movies give me nightmares. 

 But in the very first chapter of the Gospel of Mark, not long after Jesus has called his first disciples, he goes to the synagogue in Capernaum. Capernaum is on the northern side of the sea of Galilee, a home base for Jesus after his neighbors in Nazareth, the town he grew up in, tried to throw him over a cliff after he preached there. Jesus goes to worship but instead of a welcome committee, he is challenged by a man with an unclean spirit who says, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.” Notice what is happening the demonic forces ask Jesus what he is doing there. It is almost like a turf war.1  Like the bad guys in an old western movie they say, “this is our town. You’re from Narazeth. “You don’t belong here. We run things here.” This is going on in the middle of the sanctuary – in God’s house.

 But Jesus is not willing to give up any “turf” or any child of God no matter where they live or who they are. And so,with just a few words, Jesus rebukes him and the evil spirit immediately comes out of him. As it says in the Psalms, “God is Lord of heaven and earth and all who live and breathe therein” – and that includes the spirits both good and evil.

 Jesus set this man free from the power of the evil spirit – and Jesus has set you free. You, baptized child of God, are marked with the sign of Christ. You are claimed as God’s child, a brother or sister of Jesus Christ. And there is nothing that can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. There is no spirit – on heaven or on earth that can come between us and the love of Jesus. Jesus has not only set you free but Jesus also gives you, and all children of God, the freedom to choose how you are going to use this gift of freedom.

 In his letter to the Corinthian Christians, Paul writes to the church about how they can faithfully use the freedom God has given them. In today’s lesson, he weighs in on an argument the Corinthian Christians are having over eating meat offered to idols. At first glance, this looks like a weird problem that is specific to the Corinthians at that time. We’ll get to why this has any relevance for us, but let’s first look at the problem that the Corinthian Christians are having.

 At that time, in Corinth, one of the community gatherings – a civic affair - was held in the temple of the pagan god. The whole community was invited to come and gather and eat the meat that had been offered to the local idol. Some of the Corinthian Christians argue that, since they believe that our God is Lord of heaven and earth and they have been set free, they can eat anything – including the free meat that the priests of the idol are offering. Meat was hard to come by in those days, so if it doesn’t mean anything, why not?  However, others were arguing that – if you take the bait, the free meat – you are on the idol’s fishline – and no longer following Jesus.

 Paul’s answer is interesting. He tells the Corinthians that those who argue that the meat is just fine to eat are right. Jesus has given them the freedom to eat anything they want. In terms of your soul, what you eat is “adiaphora.” That’s my favorite Greek word. It’s even fun to say: Adiaphora. Try it!  Adiaphora.  It means, “it doesn’t matter.”  It’s up to you what you eat - whether you eat meat, are a vegetarian, are gluten-free, dairy free or keep kosher. The real question for Paul is this: just because you have the freedom to eat the meat offered to idols, should you? 

 Paul reminds them that they live in a community and that what they do affects not only them – but also their neighbor.  As a result, if their neighbor is less capable of understanding that the eating of meat offered to idols is “Adiaphora” and are likely to relapse into following the idol again if they eat the meat, then, for the sake of your neighbor, choose on the side of building up the neighbor and the neighbor’s faith – even if it means you miss out on eating the free meat at the barbeque, because love builds up!

 This issue is completely “adiaphora” for us. Thanks to the USDA, the meat available to us is safe and sacrificing meat to idols and having BBQs is not really a thing anymore. But the problem isn’t really about the meat. The problem is over who is right – and what they should do about the problem that is causing a schism in their community. Knowledge was highly valued in Greek culture – and in our own. We often make decisions based on what we think, on what we know. But Paul asserts that knowledge, while wonderful and good, is not the greatest good. He says, “Knowledge puffs up.” Knowledge – feeling like we know the “answer” can appeal to our ego and our sense of being “right.” Like the Greeks, we have been taught to seek what is right – and to do it. Furthermore, we know, as Christians, that we have been set free by Christ to make decisions. So… if we know something is “adiaphora,” we are free to choose to do it or not.

 However, Paul writes that yes, you are free to choose, and so when making a choice, the best choice is to act out of love and do whatever it is that builds up the neighbor and avoids causing harm to the neighbor, because love builds up!

 In our ordinary lives, this happens when we take time to think about our neighbors’ needs as well as our own. For example: if I was looking for a place to hold a meeting and I knew one person was allergic to nuts and one was a recovering alcoholic, the best choice for a location would not be a bar that only serves beer and nuts. So even though I would have the “right” to do so, and it would be fine for most of the people, I would be endangering two people. Instead, out of love I should do something that builds up all the people – for love builds up!

 Another example might be the woman I met at the Wildfire retreat last Saturday who attends a game night her church holds – not because she likes to play games, but so that she can give a ride to someone else and hold the cards for one of her new friends. Or Ben, the vocal teacher that I met at the retreat who adapts his curriculum so that he can teach students who have a difficult time hearing. Or the daughter who cares for her mother with dementia even though, much of the time her mother doesn’t know her as her daughter anymore. Or the children who alter their game to include a little kid who doesn’t understand the rules. Love builds up the weakest, the smallest and the most vulnerable among us.

 There are many ways – some that make no difference to us and some that require some sacrifice – that we give up some of our freedom in order to care for our neighbor, our fellow child of God. This does not mean, however, that we are called to “give in” to everyone’s stated need or desire. There is a difference between accommodating the needs of our neighbor – which is love - and giving in to the demands of a bully – which is often done out of fear.

 There are times that we are called to take a stand for the sake of truth and for the sake of our faith. For example, Rosa Parks took a seat on the bus because she could no longer tolerate the laws that distinguished and separated people on the basis of the color of their skin. Others, who had nothing to gain personally, joined her in that quest. As Americans, we are not done with that goal. We are still on the journey of using our freedom for the sake of others, especially those who are most vulnerable, so that all of God’s children may be free.

 I have heard it said, if you must choose between being right and being kind, choose kindness. I would extend that even further to say, if you must choose between being “right” and showing love for someone who is vulnerable, choose love. Out of God’s great love, Jesus came to set us free, each one of us. So let us choose to respond to God’s love by using our freedom to care for all of God’s children. For this is the mission to which we have been called. Thanks be to God. Amen. 

Sunday, January 21, 2024

Follow Me

 What does it mean to follow Jesus?   That is the question that our scriptures have raised for me this week. Last week, you may remember, we heard the story of Jesus calling two other disciples – Philip and Nathaniel as recounted in the Gospel of John. Jesus invited them to “Come and See.” They did – and their eyes, hearts and minds were opened.

 But this week, we are back in the Gospel of Mark – and this Gospel moves fast. Already, Jesus has been proclaimed as Jesus Christ – which means Messiah- and the Son of God. The prophecy of Isaiah is declared fulfilled. John the baptizer witnesses to his coming. Jesus is baptized, goes into the wilderness, is tempted and prevails against the devil. And, John has been arrested, a foreshadowing of Jesus’ own arrest. That’s a lot of territory that’s been covered in the fourteen short verses prior to today’s Gospel. And it doesn’t slow down.

 After John is arrested, it is as if Jesus picks up his mantle and declares, like John, that it is time to repent – to turn away from those things that have come between you and God. But while John preached repentance in preparation for the Messiah, Jesus says, believe in the Good News. The time is now. Immediately. It’s one of Mark’s favorite words. He uses it 40 times in the Gospel. Immediately, Jesus calls his disciples, saying, “Follow me” and, on the spot, they leave their nets, their jobs, their family and everything that they owned behind – and followed Jesus.  

 Jesus’ call to “Follow me” comes with urgency in Mark’s Gospel, but that is not the only way that Jesus calls people to follow. Some of us have mountain top transformation experiences. Others have a slow and steady call to follow Jesus from many mentors including parents, grandparents, Sunday School Teachers, camp counselors and church members who notice and care.

 There is no one way to hear Jesus’ call to follow – and there is no one vocation to which we are called. Martin Luther reminded us of the “priesthood of all believers” and that there is no task that glorifies God more than another. Instead, as Frederick Buechner once said, The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.  What is Jesus calling you into?

 A friend of mine was wrestling with this question. She felt the desire to serve Jesus and she did not want to say no to Jesus’ call – but she also loved being a teacher. She wasn’t sure what to do. She visited with her pastor and he assured her that not all calls from God are into the ministry. Being a teacher can also be a call from God. And, so can being an electrician, a postal carrier, or a caretaker. When my mother was ill, I suddenly realized that the one who had cared for me all my life now needed me to be one of her caregivers.  

 A recent study showed that people who are retiring are also asking this question in a new way. Where is God calling me now? Where is the place where my deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet?  Listen for God’s voice. God keeps calling you.

 The tale of Jonah -which some scholars call a parable and others call an allegory -- is the story of someone who refused to listen to God’s call. God calls Jonah to go to Ninevah to warn the people that God was displeased with their wickedness and would destroy them. Ninevah is the capital of the Assyrian empire – the heart of a country that has terrorized Jonah’s people. Jonah doesn’t want to go and preach to them because, he knows that the Lord God is a gracious God, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. He doesn’t want to give these people the opportunity to repent because he doesn’t want God to forgive them. He wants them to rot in hell. So, instead of following God’s call, Jonah runs away, in the opposite direction. Or, at least he tries to run away.

 God, of course, has other ideas, you probably remember that Jonah ends up being swallowed by a whale where he has a “divine time-out.”1 After three days, Jonah comes to his senses and promises to go to Ninevah and do the task he is called to do. The whale promptly regurgitates him on the shore close to Ninevah. ( I’ll bet he smelled awful, his clothes and his hair full of whale belly vomit.)

 Eventually, Jonah goes to Ninevah and walks through the streets crying: “Forty days more, and Ninevah shall be overthrown.” The king hears this 8 word sermon and not only believes it, but takes action, repenting and ordering all of his subjects to repent, fast and to put sackcloth on themselves and even on their animals.  God notices and relents from punishing them.

 This sounds like a nice end to the story. But it’s not. God’s forgiveness of his enemies makes Jonah mad. He goes and pouts outside the city. God notices and makes a bush to grow to give shade to Jonah. Jonah really likes the bush.  But when the bush withered the next day, Jonah becomes even more angry. Let me quote just a bit from the last words of the book of Jonah:

 “God said to Jonah, Is it right for you to be angry about the bush?” And Jonah said, “Yes, angry enough to die.” Then the Lord said, “You are concerned about the bush, for which you did not labor and which you did not grow…. And should I not be concerned about Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons who do not know their right and from their left, and also many animals?”

 One lesson from this story could be that when God calls you to do something, you should do it because God doesn’t give up. Jonah is a perfect “bad example” of what happens when you don’t listen to God’s call. But there is another lesson – one that is even more important for Jonah – and for us. The other lesson in Jonah is not about the call to do something but rather the call to be more like God, to follow God’s way.

 God was calling Jonah not only to preach the words that caused the whole city to repent, but was also calling Jonah to change his heart, his prejudices, and the chip on his shoulder against the Ninevites.

 The story ends there. We don’t know if Jonah was able to enlarge his heart enough to be glad for God’s mercy – or if he just stubbornly stayed by his withered plant and died. God gives us choices. We don’t have to follow in God’s way. But God’s way is the way to life, freedom and wholeness.

 When God calls Jonah --and us-- to follow, God calls us to follow in the way we live our lives. God’s way, the way of Jesus, is compassionate, “slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and ready to relent from punishing.” God’s way makes room for forgiveness and even reconciliation.

 As Thomas Merton once wrote to Dorothy Day, “Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy. That is not our business, and in fact, it is nobody’s business.  What we are asked to do is to love, and this love itself will render both ourselves and our neighbors worthy if anything can.” 2

 As we enter a year in which there are wars and rumors of wars on many shores, an election year and a very divided electorate, you and I are called to follow Jesus in our compassion for the “other.” That “other” can have many faces.  Maybe it is a homeless person – like Charles – who came in the church the other day to ask for a cup of coffee. Maybe it is someone who came as an immigrant seeking asylum and since asylum seekers are not allowed to work, they are reduced to begging on the side of the road. Or, maybe it is someone who voted differently from you. Regardless of who seems “other” to you, following Jesus means following Jesus’ way, the way of compassion for the other.

 Jesus says to you, “Follow me.” The next step is up to you. Amen.

 1 https://asermonforeverysunday.com/wp content/uploads/2021/01/Amy-Starr-Redwine-3rd-Sunday-after-the-Epiphany-January-24-2021-Jonah.pdf

2 Ibid

February 17, 2024 +  Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran Church +      Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

Sunday, January 14, 2024

Listen! God is Calling… Come and See

Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran Church + January 14, 2024 + Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

Former Bishop Mark Hanson was leading a Bible study and was just getting into the meat of the scripture when a cell phone starts ringing. Everyone – including me - freezes for a second, hoping it wasn’t theirs– it wasn’t mine. Phew. But Bishop Hanson took it in stride and said, “Is it Jesus? And if it is, you had better answer it.”

 Listen, God is Calling.

 God called for Samuel one night. It was an epiphany, an “Ah ha” moment for Samuel– and the beginning of his life as a prophet. But I love that it begins in such an ordinary way. Samuel hears his name called and dutifully reports to Eli, assuming, of course, that it is the priest who is calling him. It was his job to attend to the priest’s needs. But after three times, Eli is awake enough to have a little epiphany of his own. He recognized what was happening and so he says to Samuel, “It is the Lord. Go back to your bed and if he calls you, say, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.” Samuel listened – and this time, when the Lord spoke, he said, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.” And God spoke to Samuel.

 God was raising up Samuel to become a prophet and lead his people. But God also worked through Eli, the priest. It was Eli who recognized that it was the Lord who was calling him. Samuel’s role changed dramatically that night from acolyte to prophet/ priest in training. And it was Eli who then mentored him, encouraging him to listen – and to be open to God’s word.

 Who has been like an Eli for you? Who has encouraged you to listen to God’s word?  Was it a Sunday school teacher, a parent or grandparent who encouraged you to come and listen to Bible stories?  Was it a friend who brought you to Sunday school or VBS? Was it a neighbor or a spouse? Or was it a book or even someone on social media which piqued your interest? Most of us have had a mentor or teacher who was our Eli, who encouraged us to “listen” to the Word of the Lord.

 And, how have you been an Eli for someone else? I know many of you have read Bibles stories and brought your children, your grandchildren, your friends to Sunday school and Vacation Bible School.  You have done this – thank you for your faithfulness in fulfilling the promise to bring your child to the Lord’s house, teach them the ten commandments and bring them to the Lord’s table. Well done… AND… you – and I – are not done.

 God has a habit of working through ordinary people of all ages – like the boy Samuel and the very senior priest Eli. Eli was quite old when he was called upon to mentor Samuel – who changed overnight from being his servant into being God’s chosen intern priest and prophet. I wonder… how is God calling you now to help a neighbor, a friend at work or school or in the community in which you live to listen to the Word of God and to see how God is calling them?

 Listen! God is still calling.

 In his book, Stride Toward Freedom, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. writes about a time when he was at the end of his rope. The path forward was unclear. He writes, 

‘‘I was ready to give up. With my cup of coffee sitting untouched before me, I tried to think of a way to move out of the picture without appearing a coward. In this state of exhaustion, when my courage had all but gone, I decided to take my problem to God. With my head in my hands, I bowed over the kitchen table and prayed aloud.

The words I spoke to God that midnight are still vivid in my memory. ‘I am here taking a stand for what I believe is right. But now I am afraid. The people are looking to me for leadership, and if I stand before them without strength and courage, they too will falter. I am at the end of my powers. I have nothing left. I’ve come to the point where I can’t face it alone.’

At that moment, I experienced the presence of the Divine as I had never experienced God before. It seemed as though I could hear the quiet assurance of an inner voice saying: “Stand up for justice, stand up for truth; and God will be at your side forever.” Almost at once my fears began to go. My uncertainty disappeared. I was ready to face anything.1”

 When he was tired, worn out, and did not know where to turn, Martin Luther King Jr. turned to God for help. And there, at his kitchen table, God spoke the words that empowered MLK to continue to lead God’s people in the fight for justice and righteousness and freedom for all people – regardless of the color of their skin. It was a true epiphany that happened not so very long ago.

 Listen! God is calling…still… even now. God is calling you and me to:

Listen. Listen for God’s Word in the scriptures. We can do this at home in a devotional time and in Bible study with other Christians so that we can probe into the Word deeply. We can also, like MLK, listen for God’s Word and God’s Way as we pray.

 I’ve been studying contemplative prayer and one of the things that I have learned is that it is very hard to listen for God’s direction if I don’t stop talking.  So, in addition to sharing all of your cares and concerns with God --- which God wants you to share – I’d like to suggest taking some time to simply listen.  Pray for the Holy Spirit to lead and guide you and then, in silence, listen for God’s way, God’s word.

 Listen! God is calling… and invites your response.  

 In our Gospel reading, Jesus finds and calls Philip. Philip’s epiphany, his ah ha moment, is to spring into action. He goes to seek out his friend Nathaniel to share with him that the one that they have been waiting for has come! Jesus is the Messiah.

 Ever get excited about something and rush off to tell a friend – only to have them say, “What’s so exciting about that?” or “Nah. That can’t be.”  That’s sounds like Nathaniel’s snarky response, “Can anything good come out of Nazarath?”

 I love Philip’s response to Nathaniel. Instead of arguing or trying to prove his case or “unfriending” Nathaniel because he just is not getting it, Philip simply says, “Come and see.”  Nathaniel does, and, when he meets Jesus, something clicks inside. Nathaniel proclaims Jesus as rabbi, Son of God and King of Israel. It’s an“Ah Ha!” Another epiphany.

 Listen! God is calling. Come and see.

 Who has been a Philip in your life? Did someone invite you to “Come and see?” Or have you been or could you be a Philip to a friend, a spouse, a neighbor? 

 If Jesus is calling you to share the Good News – and he is – then perhaps the best invitation for you to share is the same one that Philip offers: “Come and See.” This invitation respects the other’s ability to discern and invites them to see for themselves and hear for themselves the Good News that transforms and sustains our lives as followers of Jesus.  Come and see. Come and hear. Come and receive the gift of life and love and grace.  Could you make that invitation to someone? It could transform their life. It did for Nathaniel.

 One more thing: maybe this is obvious – but when you give an invitation to “come and see” it implies that you are inviting them to come with you. I’ve been told that, for people unaccustomed to coming to church, the hardest step to take is over the doorstep of the church and the walk between the door and the pew.  It’s all new and unknown. They don’t know what to do or where to go. So… when you invite someone to “come and see” – it’s a good idea to meet them at the door and welcome them over the threshold. It’s not so scary if the invitation is to: “come and see – with me.”

 Listen! God is calling you.  God is calling you to listen to God’s Word – and be renewed in the knowledge that you are God’s beloved child.  God is calling you to bring your cares and concerns to God in prayer and to take time to listen for God’s response. And God is calling you to action, to invite your friends, family and neighbors to: “Come and see Jesus with me.”

 Listen! God is calling and Jesus has issued the invitation to you, God’s beloved child: Come and see.  

Sunday, January 7, 2024

Sermon:  Mark 1:4-11                        Mark’s Birth Story

 I know I’ve probably said it before, but it’s worth repeating, I love the Gospel of Mark.  It’s probably my favorite, with John coming in close second.  I know, Mark has a reputation for being difficult to understand, hard to preach on, and sparse on details, and his ending was considered so unacceptable even in the century it was composed, that at least one scribe tagged on a second, longer ending that he felt was more appropriate, more believable, and more similar to the other three gospels.  But to be honest, I even love Mark’s abrupt and seemingly impossible ending.  I loved Mark even before I took the class from Dr. Fredrickson.  And I love it even more, after taking that class.

You see, I knew Mark’s Gospel was the first written—the first attempt at telling the Jesus story.  So, I guess, in a way, I always trusted it more than the more elaborate gospels composed later. Furthermore, Mark was a pioneer.  He took a literary form (the evangelion or gospel) normally used exclusively as a sort of heroic biography of Kings and Emperors, and adapted it to tell the story of Jesus, a nobody from Nazareth that is secretly the Son of God, Emperor of the Universe, and Savior of the Cosmos.  So, despite its brevity and all its purported shortcomings (pun intended), Matthew and Luke each used it as their main source material, and incorporated almost all of it into their longer, more detailed gospels.  And since a biographical account, as anybody knows, logically starts with, or at least includes, a birth narrative, some might even question whether Marks gospel qualifies as a gospel, since Mark doesn’t tell us where or who Jesus comes from, nor does Mark record a single detail about Jesus’ miraculous birth.

Or so it would seem.  But today I want to challenge that idea.  Oh, sure, its true that Mark does not tell us about Mary and Joseph, nor about the multiple appearances of angels announcing the Messianic birth, nor about the shepherds and wise men that searched and found baby Jesus lying in a cattle trough in a barn.  Instead, Mark has Jesus show up on the scene as an ordinary Jewish guy at about the age of 30.  He’s just one of droves of adult Jews who go out to repent and be baptized by John, the Baptist, in the Jordan River.  John doesn’t recognize him and doesn’t argue about baptizing him.  He’s just like everybody else, so far as John knows—just another guy in a long line of guys to dunk in the river. 

What?   You don’t hear a birth story in that description?  Huh!  I admit, there’s no hint of the Christmas story we all know and love and just finished celebrating.  Maybe Mark didn’t know that story.  After all, when Jesus started his ministry, he was already an adult of about 30-ish.  He had disciples that, by all accounts, were essentially strangers to him when he invited them to follow him around.  When people heard about his miraculous healings, he began to draw crowds.  But I don’t think people were super interested in where he came from and who his parents were… They were preoccupied with what he could do, what diseases and malformations he could cure, how he could supply bread and fish to feed thousands…and then how he died.  There were no scribes or reporters following him around, asking for private interviews and exclusive stories.  There were not daily or weekly newspapers to read.  Nobody realized how important he was, until he rose from the grave.  That’s what scholars might say.  Biblical scholars like to say that the Gospels were written in reverse, starting with the resurrection and working backward, scouring the Jewish scriptures for clues to his origin, his identity—clues to solve the mystery of the Crucified Messiah. 

Maybe.  Maybe Mark didn’t know the birth stories that Matthew and Luke recorded.  Maybe he wrote his gospel before that information came to light, before that part of Jesus’s life was discovered.  Or maybe he did know them, but chose not to use them.  We can’t know the answer for sure.   We only know that the birth material that Luke and Matthew had access to didn’t make it into Mark’s Gospel. 

So, because I like Mark and think he is undervalued, I’m going to give Mark the benefit of the doubt.  I’m going to propose that Mark chose not to use that birth narrative we so love, for good literary reasons.  He didn’t need them.  He had something better.  That’s right—he had a better birth story to tell.  It’s right here in black and white, right under our noses, and sadly, all those critical scholars totally overlook it, fail to recognize it, along with the reasons Mark used this narrative instead.  The reason is that Mark wants us all to bond with Jesus, to identify with him, because all Christians share the same birth narrative.

Do you recognize it, yet?  If not, that’s okay.  You’re in great company.  I don’t know of a single scholar, no matter how brilliant or celebrated, who has ever pointed it out.  To be honest, I didn’t see it either, until about a week ago.  It’s the one thing that every Christian experiences.  It’s that thing the risen Jesus tells us to go out and do all over the world.  Of course, I’m talking about Jesus’ baptism. 

For Mark, Jesus is born, and anointed at his baptism.  Jesus is born of water and the Spirit.  Jesus becomes the Messiah when the Spirit descends into him as he comes out of the waters of baptism.  Yes, I said into him.  I know the English text says the Spirit descended on him like a dove, but that little Greek preposition translated as on, can also be translated as into, and into is a better translation, not just for grammatical reasons, but because that’s how the Apostle Paul understood it.   The only sources, aside from the Hebrew Bible, that we can say with some certainty that Mark knew of and probably had access to, were the letters of Paul.  Paul wrote frequently in his letters about baptism, insisting that the Spirit enters us in baptism and remains, dwells within us, thereafter, giving us spiritual gifts and equipping us for Discipleship and the Priesthood of All Believers.  After reading and studying the Pauline epistles, Martin Luther came to the same conclusion—the same understanding.  Baptism is the entry of the Holy Spirit into our personhood.

But there’s more.  There’s that voice from Heaven that only Jesus hears.  (Some epiphany, right?  How is it an epiphany if only Jesus hears it?)  It’s an epiphany for us because Mark, who knows that secret, shares it with us, his readers.  We know something no one else in the story knows.  We know God claims Jesus as God’s Son.  We also know, if we remember our catechism, that thing we studied as adolescents to be confirmed, that in baptism, God adopts us, too.   Through baptism, we are all adopted into the family of God.  We all become children of God in the waters of baptism. 

But for Mark, baptism is also the moment when Jesus becomes the Messiah, the anointed King.  These are words of adoption, used for Davidic Kings.  If you look back at the Psalm for today, Psalm 2, you will see similar words.  “You are my Son; today I have begotten you.”  It is believed that this Psalm was used as part of the liturgy in coronation ceremonies for Israel’s Davidic Kings.  Psalm 2 is not a Psalm by David, but for David and his descendants.  God is announcing Jesus as the newly anointed Messiah, the new and forever King of God’s people—the King of Kings who will rule heaven and earth for eternity.  In his baptism, Jesus’ true identity is disclosed, and Jesus is given the throne and the scepter of the power of the Holy Spirit.  But this is a secret Jesus must keep until the appropriate time.  After all, if Herod would kill all male toddlers in Bethlehem to remove Jesus as a threat, then Herod and Caesar would certainly move swiftly to remove the threat of an adult Messiah of Israel. 

But I’m getting off track.  The point is, in the gospel of Mark, Jesus, the Messiah, is born of water and the Holy Spirit, just like you and me.  Jesus is equipped for ministry by the power of the Holy Spirit that dwells within him.  And the Holy Spirit does the same for us.  We all have access to that same Holy Spirit, because it lives within us, transforming us day by day into better disciples, into the likeness of Christ, into the image of God that we were intended to be in this world, but which has been damaged and tarnished by sin.  We are all God’s children, adopted in baptism, chosen, and called to transform the world, or at least, the neighborhoods in which we live and work and minister. 

Okay, I admit, none of us probably saw the heavens open, or the Spirit descending into us.  But how could we, when we were probably all baptized indoors, and we probably weren’t looking up.  And maybe we didn’t hear God’s voice calling out to us that we are God’s beloved children, after all, some of us were probably busy exercising our lungs, crying about being rudely and repeatedly splashed with water.  But that doesn’t mean those things didn’t happen.  I believe God calls to each and every one of us, all the time, telling us that we are loved, that we are God’s, that we belong—and reminding us that we matter, that we have work to do, and that we have been given talents appropriate for the tasks we’ve been assigned.  Maybe, if we are quiet enough, and listen for that still, small, loving voice long enough, often enough, close enough…maybe, just maybe, we will here God whispering to us, telling us the truths we need to embrace in order to live into our baptismal identities as God’s beloved children, in whom God takes great pleasure.  And if we, like Jesus, accept the ministry tasks set before us, trusting the Holy Spirit to empower and sustain us, maybe we can make a difference in this world…one life at a time.

Sunday, December 31, 2023

Reflection:    Keeping the Whole Story Together

I’ve always been told that Christians are Easter people.  And I’ve always assumed this to be true.  After all, Easter is Resurrection and Salvation.  And yet, every year I see the Christmas Spirit work the most beautiful transformation in all of us, supposedly Easter people.  We become more loving, more compassionate, more generous, more joyful—to be honest—we become more Christ-like.  I’m sure you’ve noticed it, too.  After all, there’s a reason that charities solicit and receive most of their donations at Christmas, right?  So, I began to wonder, are we really, truly, Easter people—the sort of Easter people God intends us to be?

Then a few years ago, I sang a duet with my son, Rhylan for church the week after Christmas.  It may have even been on New Year’s Eve, just like today.  The Song was “When the Angel’s Song Is Silent” by Mary Kay Beall.  Listen to the climax of the song.

When the angels’ song is silent

And the prophecy’s fulfilled,

When the swaddling clothes are folded

And the baby’s cry is stilled,

When the angels’ song is silent

And the drama is all done.

Then the promise of Christmas begins.

For the promise is more than a child in the hay,

More than shepherds and kings and a glad Christmas day.

Yes, the promise is more than a bright star above,

It’s a cross!  And a tomb!  And a Father’s great love.

When the angels’ song is silent

And the kings have come and gone,

All the world is changed forever

For the echo lingers on.

When the angel’s song is silent

God is nearer than before,

And the promise of Christmas…begins.

This song convinced my head of something that I think my heart, maybe yours too, already knew, but which my brain had somehow forgotten—that Easter is tied to Christmas.  Neither one stands on its own.  Easter is only part of the story.  Easter is the fulfillment of the promises of Christmas.  Without Christmas there could be no Easter.  Without Easter, Christmas would be a day like any other.  Each gives meaning to the other.  We need the whole story to experience a complete and lasting transformation of life and spirit.  The church has always known this.  That’s why we celebrate them both every year.  Separately.  But maybe we need to bring them together.  What might happen if we did that?  What might happen in us? in the world? 

So, the scientist in me wants to know—what would happen if we lived as though every day were Christmas in our hearts, AND as though every day were Easter in our souls?  To find out, I propose the following simple experiment.  This year, when it comes time to put away all your Christmas decorations, choose at least one to keep out all year long.  Put it someplace conspicuous—where you‘ll see it every day.  If you can, place it near a cross or an Easter decoration that you look at often.  And when you look at that Christmas symbol, hum a few bars of “O Little Town of Bethlehem” or your favorite Christmas carol, and whisper a little prayer asking Jesus to be born in your heart again, today, and every day, as long as you live.  Then remind yourself that Christmas is a promise fulfilled at Easter, and ask God to help you celebrate Easter in your soul, every day, eternally.  Because the Jesus of Christmas is always a light in the darkness that can’t be extinguished; Emmanuel, God with Us and within us; the babe in the manger full of hope and promise, who makes peace on earth seems possible.  And the Christ Jesus of Easter is always Christ crucified, the Resurrected Savior, the triumph of the empty tomb, Christ ascended and preparing a place for us where we can spend eternity with him; the one who brings heaven near, within our reach, and convinces us there is nothing to fear.  We need them both—all the time.

I’m not suggesting you’ll suddenly feel completely different.  We’ve been keeping Christmas and Easter separate for a long time so, it may take a while to notice a change.  Transformation tends to occur gradually.  But I dare you to give it a try.  I double dog dare you!  If I’m wrong, all you’ve done is leave out one or two Christmas decorations all year—decorations you won’t have to unpack again next year.  But, if my suspicions are correct, if it makes a significant difference… just think what we might do, as people who hold the entire story within us, people who celebrate it every day, who let it live in us and through us—as if it were always Christmas in our hearts, and forever Easter in our souls.  Some German soldiers initiated a temporary ceasefire and enjoyed meaningful fellowship with their enemies in the midst of World War I on Christmas day, 1914, just by singing some Christmas carols in the trenches.*  What might we accomplish as a community that celebrates both Christmas and Easter every day?  What’s possible for a people who carry the entire message in our hearts and souls, who know that the “Alleluias” beside the manger are echoed in the “Hallelujahs” beside the empty tomb?  I’d like to find out.  Wouldn’t you?

* https://www.history.com/news/christmas-truce-1914-world-war-i-soldier-accounts

Sunday, December 24, 2023 Christmas Eve

JOY!

December 24, 2023 + Faith-Lilac Way + Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

“Look at that! Are those Northern lights?”

 My eyes flew open. I must have fallen asleep. It had been a long day of planning, preparing, and packing – followed by delays of a car repair along the way. So, we were traveling much later than we had planned – but what a magnificent reward!

The driver wanted a better look – so we took the next exit and drove into the parking lot of a gas station at the top of the hill. There were other people there – but they seemed completely oblivious to the natural wonder that was happening right before our eyes. I was so excited that I almost said to them – “don’t you see the Northern lights? Look up!”  But then, as I peered into the sky, I discovered that I could see nothing – nothing but the glaring lights of the gas station. Not to be denied, we started down the road again… and this time, when it was dark enough for us to see the Northern lights, we pulled over and gazed at the beautiful colors in the sky. It was enough to take your breath away…

and when, finally, we went on our way, I couldn’t stop talking about it.

 Reflecting back on this moment, I was surprised to realize that I needed to get into the darkness, away from the blaring lights of the city – or in this case the gas station lights – in order to let my eyes feast upon the beauty of the night sky spectacle.

 While this beautiful and somewhat rare natural phenomenon is nothing compared to a whole host of angels, I wonder if that is how the shepherds felt that night as they returned, full of joy and “glorifying and praising God for all that they had seen.” 

 But… that’s not how they began.

 They began in darkness. Luke tells us that the shepherds were living in the fields “keeping watch over their flock by night.” This sounds rather pastoral. But… the night shift wasn’t a plumb job. Sheep are not the cuddly creatures that stuffed animal manufacturers have made them out to be. They tend to follow their nose to the next sweet blade of grass, with no sense of where they are going or what dangers might be lurking there. As a result, sheep are vulnerable prey to all sorts of predators. They need caregivers. As for the shepherds, sometimes they are given a bad rap as being ruffians – but they were generally quite ordinary people working to provide a livelihood for their families. Perhaps for some of them it was even a calling. But regardless of their status, in order to do  their job and to protect the sheep, shepherds needed to watch and listen and to always be on the lookout for storms and predators.

 I’ve heard that animals are often more sensitive to the world around them than we humans are. And so maybe the sheep were restless that night, sensing something, maybe even the rustle of wings. Perhaps their restlessness tipped off the shepherds to pay attention. Or maybe the shepherds were just doing their ordinary patrol. In any case, they certainly were not too busy or sleepy or distracted, because when the angel of the Lord stood before them, the shepherds noticed. In fact, they were terrified.1

 And yet, the shepherds were not so afraid that they could not listen.  They listened to the Good News that one angel gave them and then a whole host of angels sang to them.  And then they got curious. “Let’s go” they said. “Let’s go see!” And once they saw Jesus – identified as the baby who they would find in a manger – they were filled with JOY and couldn’t stop talking about Jesus and what they had seen.

 These shepherds are not so different from us. Like the shepherds, we can notice our environment; listen to the Good News of God – our messengers might be ordinary people rather than an angelic host, but like the shepherds, we can get curious, curious enough about where God is leading us, that we take action to follow God’s path.

 So what was it that gave them joy? Their situation had not changed. They hadn’t won the lottery. They were still shepherds and they still had to go back and care and protect their sheep even at night, even in the dark.  And it wasn’t even seeing the terrifyingly wonderful angel chorus. It was only after they had seen Jesus that a deep and rich joy started bubbling up inside of them, a joy that was not dependent upon their ordinary lives. 

 For the world did not suddenly become “nice” when the Christ child was born. The rulers and armies of Rome were still there oppressing the people. The world was not at peace.

 Instead, as Pastor Nadia Bolz-Weber writes, the Christmas story “reveals a God who has entered our world as it actually exists, and not as the world we often wish it would be.”2

 Jesus is not born into a fairy tale castle nor does he pose for a Norman Rockwell painting where everything is “perfect.” Instead, he is born to an unwed mother, supported by a man who is not her husband or his father. Jesus comes into the messiness of our world, into the darkness, the chaos and all of the challenges that we face… and stays. Jesus comes as Emmanuel, God With Us.  

 A father and his young son were walking on a path when they came to a long tunnel. As they continued on the path, the tunnel became darker and darker. When it got too dark to see, the boy grabbed his father’s hand and they walked in the darkness together.  It was only as the boy and his father neared the end of the tunnel, and they could see, once again, the path before them, that the boy unclasped his father’s hand and raced on ahead to explore, calling back to his father, “come and see.”

 Isn’t that the way it is with us? We come to dark, tough, challenging times in our lives. Sometimes the world seems so dark and hopeless that it is hard for us to see anything – not even that God – Emmanuel – God With Us is right beside us… and stays beside us - no matter how long it takes. God is With Us in all the dark places of our lives.

 A United Nations peacekeeper, Hizkias Assefa, works in some of the most violent nations of the world. It’s difficult, often heartbreaking work. When asked how he keeps going, Assefa simply replied, “I am Christian. For Christians, hopelessness is not an option.” 3 For God is With Us – even in the darkest of times, even in the shelled out ruins of apartment building, even in the wreckage of our lives after tragedy. God is with us – and never gives up loving us and caring for us.

 Instead, God offers us the opportunity to be transformed by Christ’s love and grace – every day. Wherever you encounter the power of God’s love and grace, whether it is in the bread and wine of communion – that’s God incarnate – or when you see Christ in the candlelight reflected in your neighbor’s face; or when you see Christ in the world around you, you, like the shepherds in Bethlehem, have seen the face of Christ. Jesus Christ is the source of all our joy. This is why we too can share the Good News of Christ. This is why we can join the shepherds in praising God and singing out with joy. Amen.

 --------------------

1 Janet Hunt, Dancing with the Word
2Audacious Hope:Christmas 2016 ,Bishop Mariann | Dec 15, 2016 https://edow.org/2016/12/15/audacious-hope-christmas-2016/

3 Ibid

Sunday, December 17, 2023

Answering God’s Call                         Luke 1:26-38

Our Gospel text for today is generally referred to as the Annunciation, meaning the announcement of the impending birth of the Messiah, and it is definitely that—and more.  It is also Mary’s call story.  Although call stories don’t usually include conversations with angels, let alone an archangel who provides his name, miraculous birth announcements usually do come from angels.  In this story, Gabriel is doing double duty.  He is announcing the birth of the Messiah, and calling Mary, a teenager of about 13 or 14 years, to serve God in a very particular role—as the Mother of Jesus, the only begotten Son of God. 

Mary is confused by the angel’s presence, and the notion that she is favored by God.  She is an ordinary girl.  None of the Gospels indicate she comes from a wealthy or important family.  She knows, just as we do, that according to the Jewish scriptures, angels seldom appear to women, much less children or teenage girls. She listens to the message, and as most people who receive such a call, she asks a clarifying question.  She doesn’t ask “Why?”, or “Why me?”  She doesn’t argue or object, like the prophets usually do.  She doesn’t even ask when.  In fact, her one question suggests that she assumes this is all to take effect pretty much immediately.  She just asks, “How?  How can this happen?”

Either Mary’s mother hasn’t had that talk with her—you know the one I mean—the “what happens on the wedding night talk” or Mary expects this to occur almost immediately, before her marriage is to be consummated.  Gabriel’s response doesn’t really provide a clear answer, but the process doesn’t seem to involve Joseph.  The angel doesn’t just answer and leave.  He offers Mary a sign, which she never asked for, and tells her nothing is impossible for God, as reasons to believe the message, to trust God.  Then Gabriel waits for Mary to either accept or refuse the call. 

My call story doesn’t involve an angel, and I wasn’t called until I was about forty.  I first heard it about twenty years ago, when my family was living in Idaho.  We had 5 kids.  I had been leading worship, teaching and overseeing the Sunday school program, and I had written and directed a children’s Christmas program.  I had done nearly all of these things before, beginning at about the same age as Mary, but never all at once.  I received no dream, no vision. I didn’t hear the voice of God calling to me in the night.  It was just a feeling, a desire I had begun to experience—a notion I couldn’t shake.  It just felt right, like it was what I was meant to do.  Kevin and I had just gone to bed, and I decided to tell him about it. “Sometimes I wonder if, maybe, I missed my calling—that maybe I was supposed to be a pastor.” 

Kevin, bless his heart, didn’t stop to silently consider his next words.  Without missing a single beat, he replied, “You know, I’ve been thinking the same thing.  I think you’d make a great pastor.”  After talking about it for a little while, we agreed to look into the possibility of me becoming attending seminary.

We spent a few weeks of googling, looking into seminaries and talking to someone who had just graduated from seminary.  The nearest one was a Methodist seminary 755 miles away in Seattle, WA.  The nearest ELCA seminary was 800 miles away in California. At that time, seminaries were only just beginning to offer partially online programs, and even then, students were required to spend three months or more on campus each year, which wasn’t feasible with 5 young kids at home, and the cost was equally impossible.  So, just like Mary, we asked, “How is this possible?”  We didn’t get an answer, so we just agreed to keep praying, asking God for direction, a clearly marked path to follow.

Sometimes we receive our calling well in advance.  Often there is a journey required, and the road we must travel is long and winding and full of potholes, and the destination is unclear.  Every call, every journey is unique. 

Mary went straight to her cousin, Elizabeth, to confirm the sign, and maybe, to get an idea of what she had just signed up for.  She stayed three months, and it seems she was with child when she returned.

About two years later, we moved to Rochester.  Both Kevin and I had taken research positions at Mayo Clinic, having tabled the idea that I could start seminary until God sent a messenger who could supply a clear road map, and funds for tuition.  I was focused on setting up house, getting the kids adjusted to new schools, and the new baby into daycare, and of course, learning the ropes at my new job.  That winter my dad was diagnosed with a fatal disease and sent home to die.  I took a month off from my new job to help Mom care for him at the end, and help with funeral arrangements.  Seminary fell off my radar.

I’m embarrassed to admit it, but it took about five years for me to realize that God had planted me in the neighborhood of Luther Seminary.  I remember that I was actually looking at Luther’s web page when I got a call from my doctor.  She said I had cancer.  Suddenly there was a giant obstacle in my path, and there was no getting around it.  Every time I got past one roadblock, another cropped up.  My mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease three years later, and we brought her home to live with us. 

I wanted to give up.  I tried to give up, but that call God had put on my heart just kept tugging at me.  The more I tried to convince myself it wasn’t real, that I had been mistaken, the harder it tugged at me.  Worst of all, I felt this terrible guilt over my inability to just drop everything and follow the call.  That’s what I had always been taught you’re supposed to do.  That’s what Peter, Andrew, James and John and all the other disciples did.  They didn’t hesitate.  Neither did Mary.  I had become certain that, even if I could find a way to pay for it, the seminary wouldn’t take me, because I hadn’t just jumped in blindly.  And now I was much older, and doubted whether my brain could handle the curriculum, especially the languages, even if I could get accepted.  I still didn’t know how the process worked, and I still had no way to pay for school.

Answering God’s call is seldom easy.  You really have to be sure of your calling, dedicated, determined and committed to seeing it through.  It wasn’t easy for Mary either.  Mary’s pregnancy was a scandal.  Joseph almost divorced her.  Jesus was born in a barn, far from their home.  Herod would hunt them. They would flee to Egypt as refugees to protect him.   And many would whisper about the likelihood that Jesus was actually illegitimate, and therefore not descended from David, not the true Messiah.  And eventually, Mary would watch her son suffer and die on a Roman cross like a criminal. 

Once my mom’s condition worsened enough that we had to put her in a memory care facility, everything changed.  My pastor drove me up to the seminary, and stood by for moral support as I told the story of my long journey to get there.  To my surprise, they didn’t scold me or judge me as I feared.  Instead, they affirmed my calling.  They told me that God’s call doesn’t just magically remove all my earthly responsibilities.  And they told me that God’s call doesn’t ever expire, nor does it ever disappear.  Then they told me they could provide a scholarship to cover my full tuition for the duration of my schooling.  They explained everything and sent me to the synod to start the candidacy process.  The rest was a crazy roller coaster ride, that is, until now. 

God knew what was in store for me at every stop on this journey.  I just needed to live my life, patiently, until the time was right.  Easier said than done, of course.  The call was like a seed planted in my heart that stubbornly continued to grow so that I would be ready to do what was necessary when the time was right—ready for God’s crazy four-year roller coaster ride. 

Everyone has a call story.  And everyone’s call story is as unique as they are.  Answering any call requires a journey.  But just like Mary’s calling, every calling comes with promises that God fulfills along the way: the promise to equip us for the mission ahead, and the promise to accompany us and support us along the way.  

Looking back now, I realize that I had different callings at different stages of my life.  I was called to be a teacher, a mother, a wife, a scientist, a musician, and now a pastor.  But that may not be the end.  Even when I retire at age 75, God may still have another task for me to do.  And who can guess what that might be?  Mary was called to motherhood, to bring Jesus into the world, and to raise him so that he would be properly prepared for his mission.   Scripture doesn’t tell us, but I suspect that once Jesus was grown and following God’s plan for him, that Mary was called to be a disciple alongside the rest and maybe an apostle as well.  Or maybe God called her to other mission work within the new church. 

But that’s enough about me, and Mary.   Now it’s your turn.  I want to hear your call stories.  Whether you realize it or not, each of you has been called to some form of service as part of the Priesthood of All Believers.  Each and every one of you has been equipped with unique gifts, including both strengths and weaknesses for specific tasks or missions at various points in life.  So, I want to know, what is God calling you to do now?  What is tugging at your heart, urging you to respond somehow?  How has the Holy Spirit equipped you to respond?  Where and when do you feel God’s presence?  Or hear the Spirit whispering?  Where is Christ inviting you to follow?  How and where are you using your gifts?  Listen to your heart, give in to that tugging and pulling sensation.  If Jesus is calling, waiting for an answer, tell him, “Here I am, Lord.  I am ready and willing.  Send me.”

Sunday, December 10, 2023

The Light Shines in the Darkness

December 10, 2023    +   Faith-Lilac Way Lutheran    +    Pastor Pam Stalheim Lane

 “Mommy Come! Come!”  My mother came quickly into my room. “What’s wrong?” She asked.“There is a skunk under my bed!”  She flipped on the light. “Let’s see.” Together we looked under my bed. My teddy bear and doll had fallen off the bed. But no skunks. Somehow things looked different with the light on.

 Mine was just a bad childhood dream -- but there are times when our problems are more than childhood nightmares. There are times that we can get discouraged, times when challenges of our world and of our life feel overwhelming and our world feels grim.

 It was into such a world that baby Jesus was born. Israel was occupied by Roman forces. Freedom from oppression seemed like a far-off dream. The people were poor. Nightmares happened during the day.

 John could have begun his Gospel by describing the world in this way. But instead, John turns the light on and casts a cosmic vision of God that hearkens back to the first words of the Bible. In the beginning…

 In the beginning was the WORD and the Word was God. And when God spoke – or maybe sang – the world into being, God created life – and the life was the light of all people.  John shines a light on something new that God is doing that began at the very beginning of time and is continuing today - in you.  Hear the word of hope and promise: The light shines in the darkness – and the darkness cannot overcome it. No matter what the darkness, the challenge, or the nightmare may be: The light of Christ shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot overcome.

Pastor and Poet Steve Garnaas-Holmes invites us to:
Listen for God singing the world into being.
Look for the light shining in the music.
Notice this cosmic song, this act of Creation,
rising in you, unfolding, radiating,
shining in the darkness.

The true light that enlightens everyone
is coming into the world.

And this is why we hope – even in the darkest and most challenging of times. This is why we sing. For the light of the world has come and continues to shine – and the darkness cannot overcome it.  So let us sing with joy-filled hearts for Christ our light has come into the world and no darkness can overcome the love and light of Christ. Thanks be to God. Amen.

1Steve Garnaas-Holmes, www.unfoldinglight.net Permission granted to reproduce a portion of the poem “True Light, Dec 2017”

Sunday, December 3, 2023

Prepare the Way of the Lord

December 3, 2023                                                                               Pastor Pamela Stalheim Lane           

How do you prepare for Christmas?

If you asked a dozen people that question, I’m guessing you would get a pretty good list of activities including:  Buying Christmas presents, decorating the Christmas tree; going to Christmas concerts – remember there is one here next Sunday – don’t miss it!  And of course, gathering with family and friends and making and eating scrumptious Christmas cookies! These can all be good things – and there are more. This can be a busy busy time-- and it can be wonderful. And it can be exhausting. It can be a time you enjoy every minute – and treasure each moment. Or it can be a time of bitter-sweet nostalgia as you remember how it used to be. I wonder… how is it for you?

 In our Gospel, John the Baptist invites people to prepare for Christ’s coming. But he isn’t handing out candy canes. It’s not really like our Christmas preparations at all. Instead, like the Old Testament prophets before him, he’s inviting people to repent. And people came. Lots of people came. They were hungry for forgiveness, renewal. They wanted to hear someone who would speak the truth, help them tend to what was broken in their lives and then proclaim the gift of forgiveness and renewal.

 We too need to hear the truth – the real truth – not words that are “spun” to fit with some agenda. We too need help tending to what is broken in our lives. We too need forgiveness and renewal.

 That’s John the Baptist’s message for the people coming to the Jordan river. And that is why we, as a community, confess on Sunday mornings that we’ve said and done things we regret and we fall short of being the people God made us to be. The good news is that God forgave the people in the Jordan River and God forgives us. Completely. Every time.

 Do you have a spot – maybe a drawer or a closet or some other place in your home where things go that don’t really have a home and yet you aren’t quite ready to part with them?  When I get around to cleaning out my closet or my “junk drawer,” I’m always amazed at how good I feel after I’ve reclaimed that space. It feels fresh and new. 

 That’s the purpose of repentance. Not to beat yourself up or feel guilty or ashamed. Instead, the purpose of repentance is to make room in your heart and in your life so that you can be open to receive God’s gifts.

 So how do we do that in the midst of preparing for Christmas?

Theologian Edward Hayes writes, “Take time to be aware that in the midst of our busy preparations for the celebration of Christ’s birth in ancient Bethlehem, Christ is reborn in the Bethlehems of our homes and daily lives. Take time, slow down, be still, be awake to the Divine Mystery that looks so common and so ordinary and yet is so wonderfully present.”

 Take time. Slow down. Be still. Christ is with us now.

 And yet… it’s hard when we are busy doing all sorts of wonderful things to prepare for Christ’s coming.

 “An old abbot was fond of saying, ‘The devil is always the most active on the highest feast days.’ The supreme trick of Old Scratch is to have us so busy decorating, preparing food, practicing music and cleaning in preparation for the feast of Christmas that we actually miss the coming of Christ. Hurt feelings, anger, impatience, injured egos--the list of clouds that busyness creates to blind us to the birth can be long… but familiar to us all.”1 A Pilgrim’s Almanac

 I don’t know about you… but the old abbot was getting a little close for comfort. I love all of the Christmas festivities – including decorating, preparing food, and singing Christmas carols. So while I think that he is absolutely right that it would be good for me – and maybe you too – to take time, slow down, Be still, and remember that God is with us, Emmanuel, I am also very thankful that it’s not up to us to find Christ. Instead, Jesus is the one who is looking for you…and you and you. Jesus is seeking you - and Jesus doesn’t give up.

 I wonder if, as we are preparing for Christmas, it would help us to remember that we are called to “Prepare the way of the Lord” – and that “the way of the Lord” is not our way – it’s the Lord’s way. It’s the way of Jesus Christ who calls us to love God, love our neighbor and also to love ourselves. For love is what opens our hearts, our minds and our whole selves up to receive the gifts of God.

 At Christmas, that gift is the gift of God’s own self, taking on human flesh and coming as a baby to be one of us. So take time. Slow down. Hold the baby Jesus in your arms and in your heart and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit, the gift of God’s own self, who came to open your heart and fill you with love, peace and joy. Thanks be to God. Amen.  

Sunday, November 26, 2023

 Staying Awake in the In-Between

Today marks the First Sunday of Advent here at Faith-Lilac Way, which means it’s the beginning of a new church year—year B in the lectionary, which means we will be reading mostly from the Gospel of Mark for the next 12 months.  I’ve always loved Mark, but I also knew it had a reputation for being difficult to preach on, so I decided to take a class on Mark’s Gospel my very first year of seminary.  Of course, one of the very first things Dr. Fredrickson told us was, “I’m sorry to say it, but nothing I teach you in this class is going to help you preach on the Gospel of Mark.”  He said that often.  I’m happy to tell you, that at least in this instance, he was wrong. 

            Like the people Mark was writing for, we live in the in-between time—the time between the resurrection and the second coming of Christ.  Advent is a hopeful and expectant time of waiting and preparing for the advent of Christ, not just his birth, but also his return as Judge, Savior and king of the world.  In our text for today, Jesus, himself, tells us how we are to spend this in-between time, and I do mean us—very literally.

            In our text today, it’s Holy Tuesday, almost Passover.  Jesus has just spent the day in the Jerusalem Temple, teaching and debating with the scribes and Pharisees.  Just two days ago Jesus came riding into the city on a donkey while the people waved palm branches and shouted Hosannahs.  On their way out of the Temple, Jesus predicted its destruction, and the disciples asked Jesus to tell them how and when it will come about—not only the destruction of the temple, but the day of judgement, the end of the world.  Back in verse 14 of this very chapter, in the middle of answering this question—in the middle of describing his crucifixion as the desolating sacrilege—Jesus says, parenthetically, “(and let the reader understand).”  Have you ever noticed that?  In the middle of his speech about the end of days, before he answers the disciples’ questions about the signs to indicate that the end is near, before he tells this parable about keeping awake, Jesus addresses us, the readers.

And what does Jesus say?  He tells us to be sure we understand, because he’s about to tell us something very important.  Jesus can’t tell us when the day will come, because he doesn’t know.  Only God knows.  But even if he did know, the day and the time aren’t important.  They don’t matter—not to followers of Christ.  Because all that matters is what we do in the meantime—how we live in the in-between time.  And he wants to make sure we get that message.  Because that day, when Jesus returns to judge the world and make it new, all Jesus is going to ask us is, “Have you been faithful disciples?”  Jesus wants us to know what the question will be, before he tells us what he expects to find us doing when he returns.  Jesus gives us the one and only question on the final exam.  “Have you been living as faithful disciples, following my teachings and living them out as I instructed you?” 

Then Jesus explains that he doesn’t know when the exam will be.  It’s not up to him.  It’s going to be a pop quiz, and God is going to select the date.  It will not be announced in advance.  But that’s no reason to panic.  Because Jesus is about to teach us the right answer.  As always, Jesus has our backs. 

Jesus gives us the answer in the form of a parable.  The answer, Jesus says, is to “keep awake.”  Simple right?  When Jesus returns and asks, “What did you do all that time I was away?” the answer he wants to hear is “I stayed awake, just like you told me to.  Honest, Jesus, I never slept a wink.  I swear.  Just look at the bags under my eyes.  I’m dead tired.  I hope you have a big, soft bed waiting for me in heaven, ‘cause I could really use a good night’s sleep.”  Keep awake.  What are we supposed to keep awake for?  Slaves and servants require sleep like everyone else.  No one can do their job 24 hours/day, fifty-two weeks a year, all life long. 

  Jesus repeats the command to stay awake three times in this parable; four if you count the command to the doorkeeper, where the same Greek word is translated as keep watch.  And the last time he says it to “all people”—to everyone—to make sure we realize that he is still talking to us, the readers.  If you’re still confused, don’t worry.  Jesus isn’t done with the lesson yet.  It turns out, the disciples require an all-night cramming session.  In the next chapter, after the last supper, Jesus takes Peter, James and John to the garden of Gethsemane for a crash course in “Keeping awake.”  Jesus tells them to keep awake, because he is “deeply grieved, even to death,” and then walks a few paces away, throws himself on the ground and prays, “Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me; yet not what I want, but what you want.”  But the disciples fail the practice test, and fall asleep.  They couldn’t even stay awake one hour.  Jesus gives them three chances, and each time he finds they’ve fallen asleep.  Then Judas shows up and Jesus is taken into custody, then to trial, and finally, to the cross, where he will cry out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

So, what does Jesus mean when he admonishes us to “Keep awake!”?  Let’s go back to the parable.  The master leaves his house in the charge of his slaves.  Jesus is the master, and we, his disciples, are the slaves.  But his home isn’t just a house that contains his wealth and his earthly possessions.   His home is his household.  His household includes his family.  Jesus’ household is the family of God—not only his Christian disciples, but all people, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Taoists, Christians, even atheists and agnostics—all human beings created and loved by God, no matter how imperfect, are children of God.  Our task as disciples is to care for God’s home and God’s family.  But it’s more than baby-sitting, dog-sitting or house-sitting.  It is more than seeking justice or human rights or cures for diseases or an end to global warming.  It’s more than feeding his lambs and teaching his sheep.

  What does Keeping awake mean?  Consider what Jesus was going through when he asked his disciples (and us) to keep awake in Gethsemane.  Jesus was grieving, suffering, as though he were dying.  Jesus was asking God to save him, to change his destiny, to take death on the cross out of the plan.  Yes, Jesus was obedient, even to death on that cross, but he was in agony at the prospect, and he did ask God to let him skip the cross.  Jesus hoped and believed God might spare him, if he asked.  Jesus’ last words from the cross in Mark’s Gospel, are words of grief and loss, of betrayal and abandonment. 

Most of us, no matter how strong our faith is, no matter how certain we are that God loves us and will never forsake us, still have times when that faith is shaken.  We experience tragedy in this life…natural disasters, war, random violence, the sudden deaths of children, siblings, friends, suffering and sickness…that can shake us to the core and make us question our faith and re-examine what we were taught to believe.  Such events often come out of nowhere and hit us like a ton of bricks, leaving us in shock and bewilderment, followed by aftershocks of pain, grief, and cognitive dissonance that sometimes leads to a crisis of faith.  Such events make us ask, “Why me, God?  Why did you let this happen to me?  What did I do to make you stop loving me?”  Sometimes we find ourselves on our knees making accusations, like Mary and Martha; “Where were you?  If you had been here, this would not have happened.  You could have prevented it!  Why didn’t you come when we called?”

Dr. Fredrickson had a term for such events.  He called them “mini-apocalypses,” personal existential crises that no one should suffer through alone.  When Jesus says “Keep awake”, he is asking us to be fully present to others who are in crisis, drowning in a sea of hopelessness, suffering, doubting, searching for meaning, for answers.  We can’t provide answers, and we can’t solve the mystery for them, but we can be present with them.  We can hold their hands, hold them in our arms and in our hearts, and we can hold them in prayer.  We can listen. And we can accompany them through the darkness and pain and soul-searching until they can stand on their own again.  We can believe for them when they lose faith, until they, themselves can believe again. 

Staying awake is being in relationship.  Staying awake is the ministry of presence in the face of the unbearable.  Staying awake is standing at the foot of the cross, witnessing Jesus’ execution, and holding his devasted, bereft mother in your arms, and taking her into your home.  Staying awake is sitting Shiva with Martha and Mary, waiting, hoping against hope that Jesus will come and raise him from death to new life.  Staying awake is sitting in the waiting room with someone as they wait for an update from a surgeon, or a frightening diagnosis or test result, or a call that never comes, a loved one that never makes it home.  Staying awake is helping others hold themselves together while their world is falling apart, and staying at their sides as they struggle to rebuild it brick by brick.  Staying awake is helping someone continue to breathe in and out while their chest is crushed beneath the weight of grief, depression, or the interminable fear of not knowing.  Staying awake is providing a safe, compassionate, non-judgmental space for expressing doubts, for asking hard questions and for deep soul-searching.  Staying awake is holding vigil in the in-between time, lighting a candle and fanning the flame against the darkness that threatens to sneak in and snuff out another’s faith, hope and joy as we wait and watch for Christ’s return.  During the winter holidays, the nights grow longer, darker, colder, lonelier.  Don’t let the darkness engulf any of your neighbors.  Stay awake!

Wednesday, November 22, 2023 Thanksgiving Eve

Eve Message:     The Spiritual Practice of Gratitude

Today I want to introduce you to a spiritual practice that can make a huge difference in your mental, physical and spiritual wellbeing. In fact, I hope to convince you to try adding it to your daily routine.  It’s the spiritual practice of gratitude.  What better time could there be to begin this practice than at Thanksgiving time, when we are celebrating all that we have to be grateful for? 

      Here are some of the scientifically documented benefits of gratitude:1

·       It improves mood, increases positive emotions, and can help manage grief

·       It reduces anxiety and depression symptoms and increases happiness by reducing stress hormones and releasing feel-good hormones like dopamine and serotonin

·       It improves memory, concentration and focus

·       Gratitude reduces risk factors for heart disease.  It reduces blood pressure and heart rate and it slows/regulates breathing.

·       It improves sleep.

·       It strengthens the immune system.

·       Gratitude improves social relationships, increases social bonding and fosters healthy relationships.  It actually stimulates the production of the love hormone, oxytocin

·       It reduces toxic emotions, including envy, jealousy, resentment, frustration and aggression—even the desire for revenge.

·       Gratitude improves decision making skills, and it correlates with moral judgment. 

·       It reinforces will power, helps prevent over-eating and assists in recovery from addiction.

·       It can reduce inflammation and increase pain tolerance

·       It can even reduce A1C and help regulate blood glucose levels

·       Gratitude improves self-confidence and self-esteem

·       It can increase life-span and resilience and helps us cope with traumatic events

·       It increases patience and the capacity to forgive

Behavior can change biology.  Just like engaging in unhealthy behaviors can lead to poor health, engaging in healthy behaviors can lead to improved health.  I have a saying:  Attitude is half the battle—usually the half that determines whether you’ll win or lose that battle.  The easiest way to practice gratitude is to set up a gratitude jar.  This is a great way to start kids off.  You can use a mason jar, a cookie jar or any empty jar that once contained something else, like mayonnaise or pickles.  Or you can use a box.  Decorate it, if you desire.  Then each day (as often as you want) write down (or draw) one or more things you are grateful for on a slip of paper, (use colored paper to make it more fun and attractive) and place it in the jar.  At regular intervals, (weekly, monthly, seasonally, yearly, etc.) or whenever you feel sad or need to be reminded of how blessed you are, pour out the contents and read the slips of paper.  I suggest that, when the jar gets full, rather than throwing them away, you get a scrap book and paste them in it—at least the really memorable ones—so you can look back on them and be thankful all over again.

Another simple way for adults and teens to practice gratitude is to keep a gratitude journal.  This doesn’t have to be complicated.  You don’t have to write essays or prayers or even complete sentences.  A journal entry can be as simple as a making a list of the things, events, actions or people for whom you are thankful each day.  Don’t be afraid to start small, listing things like the ability to see, hear, walk, or talk, sunshine, snow, ice cream, popcorn, and so on.  Gratitude is gratitude.  Over time, begin to note special people and events, and record the reason you are thankful for them that day—something someone said or did, or the way it was said or done?  Maybe it was the timing.  Did it make you laugh or get you out of an unpleasant task or meeting?  Of course, it’s perfectly fine to just write, “I’m grateful for sunshine and ice cream.”  But if you sat in the sunshine and had ice cream with an old friend you hadn’t seen in a while, add those details to reflect on.  Don’t limit yourself.  Record little things as well as big, important ones.  It’s important to appreciate the small things in life.  

If you really hate writing, you can record your thoughts using a tape recorder or the talk to text function on your phone.  Or you can record it on video.  But remember, behavior changes biology, so, writing it out by hand will probably give you the most benefit, because it involves more of your body and brain.  If you want to make it feel more spiritual, after making your daily entry, you might consider saying a simple prayer of thanks for all the things you listed. There are just two rules:  First, stick to the good stuff.  This is an exercise in positivity.   Second, keep it simple.  Don’t make this hard to do, or turn it into something you resent doing. 

It doesn’t really matter what time of day you practice this.  If you journal in the morning, you will start your day off in a positive mood, with the attitude of gratitude, and that will affect the way you respond to things as the day unfolds.  If you journal at night, you will go to bed in a good mood and a more relaxed state, and you are likely to sleep better and more peacefully, which will help you start the next day off well, and allow you to better deal with frustration and negative events.  Either way, it will become a positive cycle.  Of course, you can write in your journal at night, and then read the entry again in the morning, and double your benefit by reinforcing that attitude of gratitude and triggering the biological effects both morning and night.  It’s important to go back and read portions from time to time, to trigger the memories and the associated feelings, to remind yourself that life is good.  Whatever you do, whenever you do it, make it part of your daily routine, like brushing your teeth and combing your hair.

Of course, writing thank you notes and sending them is also a way to practice gratitude, and so is simply saying, “Thank you,” in the moment.  To be honest, you can actually write thank you notes that you don’t ever send, and you will still benefit from the exercise.  But the long-range goal should be to actually start expressing your gratitude more often.  As time goes on, it should become easier and more natural to say, “Thank you” to people in the moment, or to express gratitude with a card or note or reciprocal kindness and cheer.  This is important, if you want to reap the full social benefits of gratitude. 

 I suspect that the Psalmists practiced gratitude, and that’s why, even the Psalms of lament eventually turn around and end in praise.   Sometimes I think that’s why the scriptures tell us time and time again to give God thanks and praise.  I’m sure it makes God happy when we do it, but I suspect God wants us to do it because it’s good for us.  In a broken and sinful world, gratitude is necessary to our health and our faith.  It’s a source of strength and resilience.  In our Gospel reading for today, only one leper who was healed came back to express his gratitude to Jesus.  My guess is that he benefited more than the rest, because he, alone, practiced gratitude.  I wish the same for all of you.  Practice gratitude.  It’s good for you. 

1.      “35 Scientific Benefits of Gratitude.” https://research.com/education/scientific-benefits-of-gratitude