A PENTECOST ANNIVERSARY CELEBRATION

This sermon was the second half of a sermon for Pentecost Sunday at a Heritage Service celebrating the 150th Anniversary of Our Savior's Lutheran Church in Lansing, Iowa. It followed a reflection of about the "giants" of the bible and the "giants" of the congregation's history who were channels of divine power. At the start of the service, worshipers were instructed to divide by gender and sit on separate sides of the sanctuary (with men on the pulpit side) to experience how the earliest members would have worshiped.

We are so grateful to Pastor Don Berg for being a part of our service today and reflecting with us on how God has worked through the “giants” of our congregation over the years. And on this, the anniversary of our church, celebrated on Pentecost, the anniversary of the coming of the Holy Spirit to launch the entire Christian church, it is fitting to look back at the events of the past—to muse, to marvel and to learn. We are enormously blessed by the work of our member and historian, Barbara Scottston, who uncovered such a rich history for us.

It is important that we grab hold of what we’ve learned to help us as we go forward. And so my portion of the sermon will focus on the future. In order to do so, we need to get you out of this historical, gender-segregated seating and back to modern seating, yes? Okay, then. When I say “go” you’ll get up and return to your original pew.  On your way, you are going to stop and shake the hand of at least one person you do not yet know. Introduce yourself and tell how you’re connected to this congregation. Don’t talk too long, though, because I’ve got a great message to preach. Ready? Go! (everyone moved back to their original pew).

Ah, that looks more normal doesn’t it? Men and women sitting side by side in the pews, reflecting equality because God’s word isn’t just for men any more. It’s for women, too.  And not only can women hear God’s word from any pew they wish, they can now proclaim it!

Do you realize that for more than two thirds of this congregation’s history, women were not allowed to be ordained as pastors? In April of 1970, the Lutheran Church in America voted to ordain women at their Fifth Biennial Convention, as did the American Lutheran Church at their convention that year. I’m going to reveal my age, but I have to tell you that decision by the LCA, was made a month before I was born. So I like to think that I embody the new era of female clergy. But even though the Lutherans that formed the ELCA have allowed women to be ministers for my entire life, I’m only the second woman minister this church has ever had. And I’m happy to say that the first pioneer, Pastor Debra Samuelson, is here with us today. We also have Pastor Diane Koshmeder and Pastor Terrie Rae Anderson, participating in our service today. Not only that, the Reverend April Ulring Larson is with us, too, and she was the very first woman in the entire ELCA to be elected as a synodical bishop. Oh, and our presiding bishop, the Reverend Elizabeth Eaton, as you might have guessed by her name, is also a woman. She has this to say about it: "I give thanks for all women in ministry. We are doing what Mary, the mother of our Lord, and Mary Magdalene did before us – proclaiming the gospel.” So let’s have a round of applause for women everywhere proclaiming the gospel!

That’s a big deal. A big, big deal. A gigantic change. Old Reverend Hjort (our church's first pastor) and the founding members of this congregation would have surely gasped in disbelief and rolled their eyes about in their heads if you’d have told them their church would have a sesquicentennial celebration in 2017 in which men and women would be allowed to sit together in the pews for a full half of that service and that a woman would be preaching. Yes, change happens. Even to Norwegians.

But you see that’s the problem of the Holy Spirit. That Spirit’s something else. We like to think the Holy Spirit—or the Holy Ghost as we used to call it—as a nice little thing. We often use a dove or a candle to symbolize it but the ancient Celtic church used a wild goose to symbolize the Spirit. Seriously? A goose? When I was a kid my neighbor had free ranging geese and I thought they were cute so I stopped my bike to pet one and you know what happened? It bit me! Took a chunk out of my arm. Geese are hard core. So a wild goose is a crazy symbol for the Holy Spirit. Crazy. But the Celtic church specifically chose this animal because they understood the untamable and dangerous nature of the Holy Spirit. It is powerful. Unexpected. Uncontrollable. Beware, my friends: it shows up and bites you!

Today is Pentecost Sunday—the day when Christians around the world celebrate this passionate, powerful, fiery Spirit that came upon the early disciples. It blew through them like a mighty wind and gave them new languages with which to proclaim the gospel. You see that? It immediately changed their agenda. They were planning on telling the good news but probably not to everybody. Then the wild goose of a Spirit comes honking in and bites them and *poof* they are the boldest proclaimers in the universe. Ordinary people became extraordinary and changed the world. It was outrageous! That’s why the cynics looked on and thought the disciples thought must have been drunk off their butts.

Those pioneers from Norway, well, they just thought there oughta be a church here in Lansing so they drew up the paper work in 1867 with nothing but a handful of faithful immigrants and a pastor with a five-point parish commuting to worship by horse and buggy. There’s no excuse for such behavior. It had to be the wild goose Spirit whispering in their ears (well, probably chomping on their ears) telling them they could do what could not be done, telling them to risk it all and trust God that their little church was going to last.

And that, I believe, is the most important legacy they’ve given to us: faith. Martin Luther wrote that faith is “a living, daring confidence in God’s grace, so sure and certain that believers would stake their lives on it a thousand times.” 

That’s what the Holy Spirit allows us to do: to trust fall into the arms of God’s grace. It doesn’t make sense to anybody else. It might make us look drunk. But it enables us to give up controlling things ourselves, to allow the undomesticated Holy Spirit to fly where it may, even if that means lots of changes ahead. 

In addition to being a pastor, I teach laughter seminars to get people laughing with abandon, tapping into the joy and freedom Christ gives us. So people give me a lot of jokes and bulletin bloopers. This one’s my favorite: “We pray for those who are sick of this church.” You know, after 150 years, you’d think we’d all be a little sick of this church. But when the Holy Spirit is allowed to reign supreme and take us where we didn’t plan to go, urging us:

• to live among God’s faithful people

• to hear the word of God and share in the Lord’s supper

• to proclaim the good news of God in Christ through word and deed

• to serve all people—all people—following the example of Jesus

• to strive for justice and peace in all the earth

And to carry all this out in ever outreaching ways: like having Holy Hilarity services were we laugh at death, and inviting donkeys to lead the Palm Sunday processional (even if they sometimes poop in the church) and worshiping on a boat and baptizing people in the Mississippi River if that’s where they want to be baptized and holding special services just to bless animals, and producing albums of worship music and who knows what's next?!

If we give the Holy Spirit freedom to do this and more—well, then we’ll never be sick of this church. Living the life of faith will be way too much of an adventure.

I don’t mean to say that it is not a challenge. This is an incredibly difficult time to be the church. Worshiping communities are shrinking across the country. It’s a constant effort to be seen as relevant. We have real struggles. But so did our ancestors in the faith. And yet they persisted and trusted that they had a mission to accomplish and with God, it was possible. 

As we go forward, let us do so with their tenacious spirit. I pray that we will have a living, daring confidence in God’s grace. And I pray that the wildness of the Holy Spirit will flap in here and take over our lives and our church and lead us forth with fiery passion, fearlessness and with great joy! Amen.

© 2017 Laura Gentry

The pastors who were part of the Heritage Service on June 4, 2017: back row—Pastor Peter Samuelson, Pastor Laura Gentry, Pastor Diane Koshmeder, Pastor Kris Snyder; front row—Pastor Debra Von Fisher Samuelson, Bishop April Ulring Larson, Pastor Judd Larson, Pastor Don Berg.

AN OUTRAGEOUS SERMON ABOUT LOVE

A Sermon for the 4th Sunday after Epiphany

 Corinthians 13:1-13 • Luke 4:21-30

Our Epistle reading for today from I Corinthians 13 is America’s most popular wedding verse. I’m sure you’ve heard it at many a wedding. And because it is so popular, you might kind of think of it as cliche and tune out when it’s read, assuming it to be the feel-good Hallmark card of the New Testament. 

But here’s the thing: this text is not about romantic love. Sorry, happy couples, this letter wasn’t written for you. No, it was sent to the early church in Corinth, a community in conflict. What’s love about? Paul says love is actually most important when people can’t stand each other. If we want to be followers of Christ, we need to learn how to love even though it’s not the fun or easy thing to do.

Just before this passage about love begins, in verse 12:31, it says the love is “a still more excellent way.” In the Greek, this phrase has even more punch. It could be translated something like “love is beyond measuring.” In this troublesome congregation, people were busy measuring their worth against each another. It was all competition and backbiting. They wanted to one-up one another with their great spiritual gifts but Paul wants them to see that they need to move past this way of relating and into a different way, a way that is not about such measurement but instead, is a steeped in love beyond measuring. 

That’s the kind of love that ought to shape our lives together as the church. If we do great things but don’t have love, Paul proclaims, we are like a clanging gong. It’s empty. We’ve missed the point. Today’s our annual meeting. We will be looking at our church business, our budget, our various ministries. Let’s keep these words in mind as we conduct our meeting. What do our building and our budget and our missional strategies matter if we don’t have love? First and foremost, we are called to be a community that lives out the love of Christ.

Okay, okay, so we’re supposed to love but what does that look like? According to this letter, it is active. Love is the subject of 16 verbs in a row here. In English it kind of sounds passive: “Love is patient. Love is kind.” Don’t start yawning yet, though, because in the original Greek it is more like: “Love shows patience. Love acts with kindness.” See the active tense of the verbs? Throughout these phrases, love is an action-filled thing, not a warm gushy feeling that we have for people who are like us. So you see, this passage isn’t so Hallmarkish after all! It’s a very difficult teaching. Love requires a lot of us.

Then, at the end of this reading, it makes the boldest claim of all: “Love never ends.” Paul names three most important values to the church: faith, hope and love. These summarize the life of the church, which is why we chose them to be in the Our Savior's Lutheran Church mission statement: “Making Christ known by inviting all to grow in faith, hope and love.” Yet, Paul reminds us that even among these three great things, love is the greatest. Love is what will remain. We are drawn into that love which is offered by God and we are reformed into people who work together despite our difference to share that love.

It is too bad that we as a society assume love feels good because the love to which we are called rarely feels good. It’s a demanding task that is set before us. And it is not a request, it’s a mandate that we love. 

I think this talk of love is still too abstract. So let’s turn to Jesus to see more clearly what it means to love. Did you check him out in today’s Gospel lesson? There he is chilling with his own peeps in his home synagogue. This is his community, the place he was raised. He’s come back now as an adult, as a rabbi, and he’s teaching the scriptures. Jesus opens the scroll and reads to the congregation from Isaiah. They are poetical words the people would have known well. They speak of God’s promise to release, redeem and heal those who have been cast off by society. And then Jesus declares that this scripture has been fulfilled in their hearing. Wonderful! They all rejoice and think highly of their hometown boy because they think it means they are the ones who are going to get released, redeemed and healed. After all, they have been living under the oppressive Roman occupation for so long and now their time of political liberation has finally come. No wonder they are excited.

Jesus, however, doesn’t mean it this way. He goes on to clarify. No, he basically tells them, when I talk about God coming to free the oppressed and bless the poor, I’m not talking about you! I’m talking about God blessing the people you don’t like, the people you don’t want to be near, the people you are afraid of, the ones you call enemies.

Just to drive the point home, Jesus recalls a couple of familiar stories from the scripture where God gave a blessing not to Israel, but to Israel’s enemies. Then suddenly the hometown crowd is no longer happy with him. In the same way they were all initially excited about Jesus’ teaching, they are now all upset with him. Upset doesn’t capture their outrage, you see, because they turn into a lynch mob and try to kill him. This is Mary and Joseph’s boy—the village kid they’ve watched grow up—but he’s made them so mad they want him dead.

Their sudden violence is hard to understand. Why do they get so furious so fast? It’s because Jesus is redefining God’s love. It’s not just for you, he reminds them. It is for everybody. Everybody. Now Jesus brought up Israel’s enemies in the stories he told, but what if he were here today in our context and he talked about our enemies? What if he said something like: 

“American People, I know you are afraid, but your persistent desire to keep people who aren’t like you away, your disdain for the poor, the addicts, those in prison, those with a different sexual orientation, your discrimination against people of color, your attempts to keep Syrian refugees and Latin American immigrants out of your country, your hatred of Muslims, your desire to build walls instead of bridges—well that’s just wrong! That’s not God’s way. That will never be God’s way. God loves all people—even dangerous people. There are no exemptions. Listen to me: God loves all people and you have to deal with that!”

This is an offensive message, right? Can you hear the offense? It is truly outrageous! That's why it sends Jesus’ congregation into a rage and they try to throw him over the cliff of Narareth. See? Love is not a sentimental thing in the way Jesus lived it. There’s no Hallmark about it. It’s actually—dare I say it—a political thing. It calls us to take a stand, to move beyond our fear and to love in word and deed without discrimination. Do they deserve love? Doesn’t matter. Love them anyway. “Love,” as Mother Theresa used to say, “until it hurts.”

Now I have been your pastor for almost 15 years and I have been preaching this message of God’s radically inclusive love but I am going to apologize to you today. I’m afraid I haven’t preached it forcefully enough. If I had preached it like Jesus did, I bet you’d have thrown me into the river by now. That's how outrageous Jesus' message is. I’m afraid you think I’m nice. Well I’ve got news for you: I am trying to un-nice myself! As your pastor, I am called to a prophetical role. I’m bound by Christ to preach his message. When I took the vow of ordination that’s what I promised to do. So I’m standing with Christ and telling you that you’re all wrong. I am too. We do not love as we ought. We are so so discriminatory and afraid and so we only love the people we already like. That’s not love. That’s not the more excellent way. That’s just a clanging gong.

But love never fails. And that’s good news, since we’ve apparently gotten an F on the love exam. God’s love overrides our failure to love. In verse 12 of this chapter of I Corinthians, it asserts that we have already been fully known. God sees right through us and knows how much we have fallen short of our calling to love all people. The Lord knows and yet loves us anyway. That means you and I, despite our earnest attempts, are saved not by our works but by grace. We must always come back to that self-understanding that we are saved by grace. That is the only hope we have of widening our hearts. If God can love me, I can love others, I must love others.

Let us pray: O come, Holy Spirit, and fill our church anew, that we may stand together and we may courageously and actively love all people with your radical, all-inclusive, never-failing, beyond-measuring love. Amen.

© 2016 Laura Gentry

COME, JOIN THE DANCE

Today is Holy Trinity Sunday—the only day of the church year dedicated to a theological teaching not associated with the life of Jesus. Furthermore, it contains the word “trinity,” which is not a biblical word but a theological concept developed about 300 years after Jesus’ death. A strange church day, to be sure.

But I’m totally into it. I know I’m an exception to the norm as I was brought up wholly immersed in the life of the church. I distinctly remember riding my tricycle around the garage on days it was too cold to trike outside. And as I made my circles, I would recite the Apostle’s Creed. Round and round I would go until I was both an excellent triker and an excellent mini theologian. I was able to wrap my mind around the doctrine of the Trinity even before I graduated to two wheels. Okay, I’ll admit it: I’m a church nerd.

Yes, we celebrate the triune nature of God today. For those of you who might not be full-blown church nerds, what does this mean?

In the Hebrew Scriptures, the chosen people understood that God one God and was the only God. This was quite different from their cultural context where people carved lots of “gods” out of stone or cast them in metal and told stories of how these gods fought with each other endlessly—always staking out their supernatural turf. No, when the father of the faith, Abraham set forth from Ur to follow God’s command to go to the land of Caanan, he knew that there was just one God—and an all-powerful God that must be obeyed even if it was inconvenient. Moses knew this one God too, and saw God’s power unleashed in Egypt as God freed the enslaved and lead them forth to the Promised Land. The prophets continued to speak out about this one God who was holy and above all knowing.

Then, Jesus came into the picture and the new religious movement of Christians began to speak not only of God, but of the Son of God and of the Holy Spirit that was still moving among them. Yet, they declared that all these were still one God. No wonder people got confused and frustrated by this new understanding. It IS difficult to understand God.

Saint Augustine often puzzled about the whole idea of describing God as a Trinity. He described an incident in which he was walking along the beach and observed a young boy with a bucket, running back and forth to pour water into a little hole. Augustine asked, "What are you doing?" The boy replied, "I'm trying to put the ocean into this hole." It suddenly occurred to Augustine that just as this boy was pursuing the ridiculous goal of putting the whole ocean into the hole, he was pursuing an equally ridiculous goal: trying to put an infinite God into his finite mind. We, with our very limited brains (in comparison to God’s wisdom), have come up with the doctrine of the Holy Trinity—the belief that God is expressed in three parts as Father, Son and Holy Spirit. But we must recognize, as Augustine did, that we could never fully understand God—we could never fully capture God’s entire essence with a doctrine.

Yet we do have this doctrine and it can give us a peephole into the divine. What is this triune God like? Well, the Athanasian Creed puts it this way: “In this Trinity, no one is before or after, greater or less than the other; but all three persons are in themselves, coeternal and coequal; and so we must worship the trinity in unity and the one God in three persons.” Jesus explained it similarly when he said: "Do you not know that the Father is in me and I in the Father?" And of the Spirit, Jesus said: "When the Spirit of truth comes, he will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears, because he will take what is mine and declare it to you.” These three, equal persons of God work together in community as one, unified God. Some theologians insist that what is most important about belief in a triune God is not that we see God in three ways, but that we understand God as dynamic community. God, you see, is a like a committee...that actually works.

What is unique about Trinitarian theology, is that it explains that there is an inner relational energy within the three forms of God. John of Damascus, an eighth-century theologian, described the Trinity with the Greek word "perichoresis." This word comes from the same root as the word "choreography." It suggests that there is a movement, a graceful dance within the internal life of God. It is a dance of inclusion, equality and most of all, love.

God, the great "I AM," whom we can never fully understand gives us a major clue to help us understand. We see that God is not alone, God is—at the very core—relationship. This is completely different from those Greek gods of old who were constantly fighting with one another. Not so for our God. In the Trinity we find a beautiful and caring relationship. God is united and loving and dancing together seamlessly.

Amazing! And yet what is even more amazing is that we have been invited into the dance too. God could have danced in peace apart from our world and all its selfish ambition. Instead, God chooses to redeem us and to be together with God and one another in the dance of life.

We all know the pain of not being invited, not being included. We humans do this to each other all the time, and it hurts. God does just the opposite: God invites all to the table. No one is an outsider in God’s eyes. Everyone is beloved and vitally important. Remember that when Jesus was baptized, the father God said to him: "You are my beloved, with you I am well pleased." Well, when we are baptized, God says the same thing to us: "You are my beloved, with you I am well pleased."
We are invited into the Trinity of God in our baptism. We become part of the dance—adopted by God the father, redeemed by God the Son and sealed with God the Holy Spirit. What have we to fear, then? If God has brought us into the harmonious community, then we can live in unspeakable joy. We are beloved, each called by name, each more important than we ever thought we could be. This is a dance we can dig.

Now you can see that the doctrine of the Trinity is not just a fancy theory—it is the reality in which we live each day of our lives. We are part of the community and we are free to dance with God. How, then, should we dance?

In a very popular passage from 1 Corinthians, the Apostle Paul explained that we need to respond to this amazing love by being loving ourselves. Love, he said, is not a gushy feeling but an action. Love is patient. It is kind. It is not jealous or self-serving. It doesn’t keep a record of wrongs. Love is the more excellent way. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. It never ends.

That’s the kind of dance we need. As I visit with people both inside and outside the congregation, I am chronically aware of this need. So many people feel hurt, lonely, isolated, rejected. There is pain that burns secretly within. It is like baggage too heavy to carry. They don’t know where to go or what to do to turn that around. They do not see themselves as beloved. They do not realize that they could be dancing with God.

We, who have been claimed as God’s beloved have an obligation to these people. We are to be the hands and feet of this triune God and make sure they understand that they are beloved. They are precious and God is pleased with them. They are invited into the dance where there is healing and joy. What more can we be doing to make sure that invitation is conveyed?

There is one God, who is relationship, who is dancing with equity and love. Can’t you see why I get excited about Holy Trinity Sunday? Whether you are a church nerd or not, you can see that it is worth celebrating! We are called to live and move and have our being in the Trinity’s love. This is the more excellent way. May we open our eyes to see our community as God does and say to them: Come, join the dance. Amen.


And now, may the peace which passes all understanding keep our hearts and our minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

© 2010 Laura E. Gentry

FUNERAL SERMON FOR DONNA THRAN

READ THE OBITUARY HERE

Isaiah 40:28-31

Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless. Even youths will faint and be weary, and the young will fall exhausted; but those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.

Romans 8:31-35, 37-39

What then shall we say to this? If God is for us, who is against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, will he not also give us all things with him? Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies; who is to condemn? Is it Christ Jesus, who died, yes, who was raised from the dead, who is at the right hand of God, who indeed intercedes for us? Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, of famine, or nakedness, or peril or sword? No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, no things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

John 14:15-21, 27

”If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever. This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in you.

”I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you. In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me; because I live, you also will live. On that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you. They who have my commandments and keep them are those who love me; and those who love me will be loved by my Father, and I will love them and reveal myself to them.” Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.

The prophet Nehemiah spoke God’s word to the people in exile who were grieving. He said: "Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength." (Nehemiah 8:10)

Today, as we grieve the loss of Donna,—who was so much to those of us gathered here: wife, mother, sister, aunt, and friend—we feel immense sadness. Grief weighs heavy upon us. And yet God says to us today: do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength. Yes, joy. Even now as our hearts are breaking. Joy is to be our strength.

Though Donna outlived her initial prognosis by a long shot, it still seems way too soon for her journey of life to be at an end. But the end has come and now we have gathered to celebrate her life and entrust her to God. We may not feel like celebrating because of our grief, but celebrate, we must, because Donna lived a life worth celebrating. She was, indeed, the prime example of strength coming from the joy of the Lord.

I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart,

Down in my heart, down in my heart.

I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart,

Down in my heart, down in my heart to stay.

You probably learned that little song in Sunday school. It certainly reminds us of Donna, doesn’t it? There are many things that we can say about who Donna was and in particular, who she was to us but I think in just about everyone’s description, the word joy is in there.

Donna was baptized as a child. God claimed her in those waters and planted that joy, joy, joy, joy down in her heart to stay. And yes, that faith and that joy grew as Donna did. Throughout her life, she believed God’s promise of salvation to her through Jesus Christ. She was actively involved in her church. She served faithfully and always with good cheer because of her great love for Jesus.

I’ve got the love of Jesus, love of Jesus down in my heart,

Down in my heart, down in my heart.

I’ve got the love of Jesus, love of Jesus down in my heart,

Down in my heart, down in my heart to stay.

Then, in the prime of her retirement years, she was given a cancer diagnosis. She had to endure a grueling schedule of chemotherapy, which exhausted her. But you sure would not have known that Donna was ill if she hadn’t told you. Even as she was going through all of those treatments, she was strong and remarkably joyful. As we heard in the scripture lesson from Isaiah, God gives power and strength to those who wait upon the Lord. “They shall mount up with wings like eagles,” it says, “they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.” Like the eagles that soared outside her windows, God lifted Donna up on eagle’s wings and gave her such strength we knew it was from above.

She continued to shine her bright light into our lives. She went right on serving others in so many ways, including being our church treasurer right up to the beginning of March. Donna kept sending out cards of encouragement as our church’s encouragement team leader. She continued to come to laughter club and share that marvelous, contagious laugh of hers. And she remained the rock of her family.

In Romans, Paul asks: What shall separate us from the love of God? “Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, of famine, or nakedness, or peril or sword? No,” he says, “No! In all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.” Certainly that’s what Donna was, even in the midst of her illness. She was so in tune with the love of God that she was not deterred by anything. She was a conqueror. No, she was more than a conqueror. She knew the peace of God that passes all understanding and it was her strength.

But what now? What are we to do now that she has passed from this life and into the next, more glorious one? Now she is in the place where there is no pain, no sickness, no death, no sorrow—where God will wipe away all tears. By faith, we have confidence that Donna’s suffering is all over and her joy is expanding, but what about our joy? In our grief, we feel lost and alone without her here. We miss her so much. We wonder if our joy will ever really return.

Jesus disciples felt this kind of uncertainty when he told them about his impending death. They were scared, but he assured them with these comforting words: ”I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you.” Jesus promises you and me as well that we will not be orphaned. No matter how great our loss, we are not alone. Jesus is coming to us and he is bringing the gift of his peace. He says to us: “ Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”

Yes, my friends. We can have the peace that passes understanding even now, just as Donna had it all the days of her life.

I’ve got the peace the passes understanding down in my heart,

Down in my heart, down in my heart.

I’ve got the peace the passes understanding down in my heart,

Down in my heart, down in my heart to stay.

So we have the gift of God’s peace to see us through this present darkness. Jesus has promised it to each one of us.

But we have more than that! We have the promise that everyone who believes in Jesus will not die, but will live eternally. This is God’s grace to us. Donna, as I’ve said, was a child of God, loved by Jesus, filled with the strength of joy, lifted upon on eagle’s wings, more than a conqueror and filled with peace. And the good news is that we can be too! All of these things are gifts from God. They are gifts to all those who are willing to receive them.

And this means that we can have the assurance that we will see Donna again. She’s been spirited away from her beloved Mississippi River but the bible promises that in heaven we’ll gather at another, presumably more beautiful river (though it’s hard for us to imagine anything more beautiful). This river is the river that flows from the throne of God and I presume the bird watching there is mighty good. That’s where we will stand one day. And that’s where we’ll have a powerful reunion with Donna and all of the saints who have gone before. We’ll sing and dance and laugh without end.

Last All Saint’s Day, I tried to make the point that we are all saints by virtue of our baptism. God gifts us with saint status because of what God has done for us in Jesus Christ. It is not about our own works, but about the work of Christ. And so I made a painting of an old, stylized saint with a bright, glowing halo and the face was a cut-out. I proceeded to make everyone stick their face through the hole so that they could see themselves and one another as saints.

Now Donna was a saint—I don’t need to convince you of this because you already know it. But have you seen her as a saint? Well, I made this print-out of her saint portrait to show you so that when you see her at the river that flows from the throne of God, you’ll be able to recognize her!

She will be standing there in all God’s glory with her arms open to welcome you. And that, my friends, is good news.

This is why we may have tears today but it is really a day of celebration. We celebrate the happy, loving life of Donna Thran. We celebrate the multitude of things that she meant to us. We celebrate how she enriched and changed our lives. And most of all, we celebrate the God who created her and gave her joy.

So to close my sermon, I would like to invite you to sing the first verse of “I’ve got the joy, joy, joy” with me. Let’s clap and sing and show all our enthusiasm. This one is for Saint Donna.

I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart,

Down in my heart, down in my heart.

I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart,

Down in my heart, down in my heart to stay.

May the peace of God, which passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord. Amen.

© 2010 Laura Gentry

REDOING OUR RELIGIOUS RESUMES

A Sermon for the Fifth Sunday in Lent

Pastor Laura Gentry

Phillipians 3: 4b-14

Help! Our church is in trouble! That's what was written to Saint Paul by the leaders of the new Christian church in Philippi. And in we've heard some of Paul's response in our second lesson this morning. Things had been going well at this church. Their membership has been growing steadily, both men and women are involved in leadership, and even their stewardship is going well. The church has plenty of money. But all is not well. Believe it or not, this congregation has issues. Inside the congregation, there is petty fighting, jealousy, gossip and cliques forming. Outside the congregation, Jewish neighbors are looking down on this church, believing themselves superior because they continue to follow all the Jewish laws and rituals, whereas these Gentile converts do not. So everyone is upset.

Good old Paul to the rescue! He was kind of the "Dear Abby" of the ancient Christian world. If you needed sound advice, you'd write to him. So that's why the church in Philippi has solicited his help. He writes back to them with loads of advice. He looks at their issues and narrows it down to the central problem, which in his estimation is pride. They are getting all puffed up about themselves and therefore missing the point of Christ's message.

Paul uses himself as an object lesson to help them understand why religious pride is worthless. He recites his religious resume, yes all of of his pedigree. He was born a Jew and his family followed all the rules and had him circumcised on the 8th day, just as the law prescribes. Not only that, he is an elite purebred Hebrew. Not only that, his family comes from the Tribe of Benjamin! He’s virtually religious royalty. That ought to impress. But that’s just the start. He’s got the right education and model behavior as well. He recalls how zealous he was, how righteous and blameless under the law. In fact, all these things had Paul pretty puffed up.

But as we know, Paul had a dramatic religious experience in which he encountered Jesus Christ and all of that changed. His confidence in himself, his fabulous religious resume and pedigree now became unimportant. In fact, he says that he counts it all a loss because of Christ. He regards his accomplishments as nothing more than rubbish, compared to the surpassing value of knowing Christ. It is just not important in comparison to what Christ has done for us on the cross. It is trash now. What matters is his new life, his resurrected life, in Jesus.

And this relationship turns Paul completely around. In fact, he even gets a new name (remember, his former name was Saul). This radical encounter with the living Christ turns him from persecutor of Christians into a Christian—and not just a run-of-the-mill Christian, he becomes the first and perhaps boldest Christian missionary. Now, because Christ has taken hold of him, he has all new priorities.

Bulking up your religious resume has no benefit, he tells the Christians at Phillipi. Getting puffed up and thinking you are somehow better than this person or that only leads to conflict.

Now you and I could get pretty puffed up about our religious resumes, couldn’t we? There are all kinds of things we could say. For example: (puffs up a ballon larger after each statement)

• All my ancestors were Christians
• I’ve been a Christian all my life
• I was baptized as a baby
• I was the head of my confirmation class
• I raised my children as Christians
• They were all at the too of their confirmation classes too
• I have the books of the Bible memorized
• I have perfect attendance at church
• I lead Bible study for circle (and make great cookies to go serve the ladies as well)
• I serve on the church council
• I am Christian through and through
• Even my pets are Christian
• And most of all: I am a good person

Ah yes, you can think quite highly of yourselves with your puffed-up-ness. That's for sure. But you know what Paul would say about all those "brownie points" you thought you earned, that you’ve been getting puffed up about? It’s rubbish. (Let’s balloon go so it flies around the church)

These things are not what’s important. These things will never win our salvation. But if we can’t cling to our puffed-up-ness, what can we cling to? (Picks up a small cross) The cross. As the old hymn says, “I will cling to the old rugged cross and exchange it someday for a crown.”

What is most important is knowing Christ. Paul puts it in this way: “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings.”

During Holy Week, which begins next Sunday we will be focusing on Jesus’ passion and death, and that is a necessary part of our journey to Easter. But even in the heart of Lent, we must not lose sight of the fact that we are Easter people. It has been said, truly, that you can’t have Easter without Good Friday. But Good Friday wouldn’t be “good” if it weren’t for Easter. If Jesus had simply suffered and died, and that was the end of the story, why would we want to share in his suffering? In fact, if we were putting our trust in a Christ who was not raised from the dead, we would be, as Paul tells us in another passage, “of all people most to be pitied.”

But just what does Paul mean to “share in his sufferings?” What does this mean for us? Suffering is not something we like to sign up for. Perhaps this Lent we have been practicing some kind of “fasting”: in the kinds or quantities of food we eat, or in our enjoyment of some other pleasures. Or perhaps we have chosen instead to take on some spiritual discipline for this holy season—like more time for prayer. This is a very small way to share in Christ’s suffering, to become like him in his death. Perhaps we need simply to “die” a little more to ourselves—to focus on others and not just on our own concerns and the concerns of those near and dear to us. Jesus said that whatever we do to the least of his brothers and sisters we do to, or for, him. How might we enter into the suffering of those brothers and sisters—the sick, the poor, the homeless or hungry, those who are alone, who are oppressed? It’s not too late to make that a part of our Lenten practice. In fact, we can and should do it anytime, no matter what the season.

Our reading concludes with one more passionate remark from Paul. He writes: “This one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus.”

I press on! What lies behind is unimportant. We can’t impress God with our fabulous religious resumes. They are trash. What we need is Christ’s resume. We need the one who paid the price for our sins to earn God’s favor for us. We have a friend in Jesus who has redeemed us, and who is calling us, who is calling us to enter into his suffering, death and resurrection. That is the ultimate prize! And it is ours for the taking. So we must press on!

Eugene Peterson has written a paraphrased bible, called The Message. In it, he paraphrases this verse by saying: “I’ve got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus. I’m off and running, and I’m not turning back.”

No my friends, we’re not turning back. We know Christ and in our heart of hearts we want to know him more. We want to love him. We want to be entirely his own. We want to cling to the cross, not our own merit. We've got to redo our religious resumes and take off everything but the cross of Christ. That alone will get us to the prize of the heavenly call of God. Let us press on to follow this call wherever it lead us!

Now may the peace of God which passes all understanding keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.