THE BREAD OF LIFE

A Sermon for the 9th Sunday after Pentecost, Year B

By Pastor Laura Gentry

John 6:41-51 & Ephesians 4:1-16

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.  

The crowd that surrounded Jesus in our Gospel lesson in John became angry at what they thought was arrogance. How dare he call himself the bread of life?  He’s just a regular guy from Nazareth. How can he satisfy us? They don’t understand.

 

Yet, just a few verses earlier, this crowd was totally excited about Jesus—so much so that they tried to make him king. They had seen a little boy's lunch turn into a spread for thousands, with 12 baskets of leftovers. The miracle was amazing but they were understanding it more as a magic trick than a sign illustrating who Jesus really was. He tried to get through to them, nevertheless. He said he was the bread of life, something that would last far longer than the bread we eat. What he brings will satisfy the very hunger if their souls. But they can’t see it. They do not have the eyes of faith. And so they miss the bread of life he offers them.

Do we see Jesus as the bread of life? I mean, really know him in that way? Do we feast on this bread that gives life? Or are we missing the banquet? The theologian Karl Barth wrote, "Were we to hear only of a god who measures up to our rule and is able to do what we can also do for ourselves without him, what need have we of such a god? Whenever the church has preached such a tiresome little god it has grown empty."  We need bread that is truly satisfactory.  But where can we find it?

 

In the letter to the church at Ephesus, there is a challenge that sets a high standard: "Therefore be imitators of God as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering, a sacrifice for God." The point of this passage is that if we want to feast on the bread of life, we must follow in the way of Jesus—we must imitate him.

 

There is a legend of a man with a scarred face. He was embarrassed of it and so he made a mask to cover it. He made the mask look like a saint. It was a beautiful, flawless face on the mask and the man wore it always. He even fell in love and got married but even his wife was not allowed to see his real face.  Years go by and finally the people of his village find out about his scarred face. They legend goes that they are desperate to see who he really is and how what his face looks like behind the mask. So they surround him and rip it off. They are shocked to find out that his face has taken the form of the saintly mask. By pretending to be a saint all these years, he has inadvertently become one! 

 

The lesson of this legend is that we become what we habitually imitate. We become what we think and do. The thoughts that fill our minds, the passions that drive us, the habits we fall into—all of these things are building blocks that form us into who we are. If we fill our hearts and minds with the shallow, empty things of our popular culture—or if we cling to our hurts and angers, our resentments and bitter feelings, we're only hurting ourselves. Martin Luther explained it this way: "You cannot keep the birds from flying over your head, but you can keep them from building a nest in your hair."  What he meant was that we will always have sinful thoughts, but we can’t welcome these thoughts and let them get a foothold in our hearts.  If we do, we are feasting on the world, not the bread of heaven.

We become the patterns by which we live. Christ, the bread of life, wants us to feast on him, not these empty things. He wants us to fill our hearts and minds with God's Word. He wants us to work on loving as he loves, caring as he cares. In all things, we are to be imitators of God. That’s what the Christian life is all about.

 

John Wesley once wrote, "First let us agree what religion is. I take religion to be, not the mere saying over of so many prayers, morning and evening, in public or private, but a constant ruling habit of the soul, a renewal of our beings in the image of God, a recovery of the Divine likeness, a self-increasing conformity of heart and life to the pattern of our most holy redeemer."

In Paul’s letter to the Ephesians, which we heard a reading from today, we hear some good advise for how to create a constant ruling habit of the soul. Keep in mind that things aren’t going well for Paul at the time he writes this—he is imprisoned for his evangelism. But instead of feeling sorry for himself, he is writing powerful letters from prision. Let’s listen again to the beginning of this chapter:

“I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to the one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all and through all and in all.”

Aha! There is the secret. We’ve got to figure out how we can stand one another. That’s what he said! We need to summon all our humility, gentleness, patience and love so that we can live together in peace. Being an imitator of Christ is no easy work but it is vital because when we do, we can live in love as one body with one faith through our one baptism in our one God.

So you see that having the bread of life to eat is not just a personal matter. We partake of Christ together, as a family. And that means we have to be extra cautious in how we deal with one another. We can’t be mean and self-centered because that would cause hurt to our fellow believers—our brothers and sisters in Christ. We are called to bring our gifts to the table so that together we can build up the body of Christ. That’s what the bread of heaven can do for us and for our community—not just this congregation but all believers in Christ everywhere. But we’ve got to live it. We’ve got to take action.

 

The Danish theologian Søren Kierkegaard told a parable of a community of ducks waddling off to duck church to hear the duck preacher. The duck preacher spoke eloquently of how God had given the ducks wings with which to fly. With these wings there was nowhere the ducks could not go. With those wings they could soar. Shouts of "Amen!" were quacked throughout the duck congregation. At the conclusion of the service, the ducks left commenting on the message and waddled back home. They never flew.

 

There were some who knew Jesus personally and they enjoyed his miracle of the feeding of the 5000 but when they heard him preach, they were like the ducks. They didn’t get it. The waddled home. Let’s learn from them so that we can avoid being waddlers too.  Jesus is offering us himself, the bread of life so that we can live a life worthy of the calling. This is of ultimate importance.   Let us not waddle home today, but let us feast on Jesus and fly home.

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

ABUNDANCE

A Sermon for the 8th Sunday after Pentecost, Year B
by Pastor Laura Gentry

John 6:1-21 & Ephesians 4:14-21


Oh no! How are we going to feed all these people? That is the serious concern in today’s gospel lesson. At this point in his ministry, Jesus is attracting a huge crowd wherever he goes. Word has spread about the healing power he posesses. And in this passage, they are on the other side of the Sea of Galilee, up on the mountain and Jesus is surrounded a fantastic-sized audience. So he tests Philip by asking him where they can buy bread for all these people.

Philip kind of freaks out here. He has no idea how they could afford to buy bread for them all. He says that even six months’ wages wouldn’t be enough. It seems totally impossible.

As people of faith, we know that nothing is impossible for God. With God, everything is infinitely possible. God’s power is "far more than all we can ask or imagine," as we read in our lesson for today from Ephesians.

This is certainly the case in this story. It is discovered that a little boy in the crowd has packed a sack lunch and presumably is generously offering it for the group. The only problem, however, is that his lunch consists of five loaves of barley bread and two little fish and the crowd is 5,000 men plus women and children. Impossible? Absolutely. But Jesus blesses the lunch and it is distributed. Shockingly, there is enough for everyone and so many leftovers that it takes 12 baskets just to gather them!

It is much more than they could ask or imagine. Truly this feeding is miraculous, but in John’s gospel these events are called signs rather than miracles. They are signs because they point to deeper truths about who Jesus is and what he has come to do. This sign cannot be taken at face value—we must probe deeper. It is not about Jesus being a guy who magically makes bread and fish multiply. It is about the fact that Jesus is himself the bread of life, the one who will soon nourish them with his own body and blood. Bread satisfies hunger for the moment but he satisfies spiritual hunger for all time. Jesus made a similar statement to the woman at the well—calling himself living water. Still, the crowd doesn’t seem to understand this sign and instead, they want to seize him and make him king because of the free lunch program they are sure he will institute. They had come to this mountain searching for Jesus and even after this marvelous sign, they still don’t find what they are looking for.

And you are here this morning—why, I don’t know. But I can assume that it is because you too, are seeking Jesus. You are trying to find the one who offers the opportunity to live an everlasting and meaningful life. You are clamoring after the God who makes the impossible is possible. You are looking around this world where of despair and fear and scarcity and you know that there has got to be more—there must be abundance if you can just tap into the power of Jesus that can feed a multitude with just five loaves and two fish.

Well, if that’s the case, you’ve come to the right place. That’s what our life of faith is all about: seeking and finding the abundance of our God. Yet as humans it is difficult to accept such lavish love and care. In our New Testament lesson for today, we are offered a prayer. Paul writes:

“I pray that, according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love. I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.”

Yes, the God who feeds the multitude with one boy’s lunch is the God of abundance. That’s the sign Jesus wants for us to get. He is the bread of life. And he feeds us with the unfathomable love of God—the fullness of God. And because this power is in us through the Holy Spirit, there is nothing we can’t do. This Spirit can accomplish far more through us than seems possible. And we are called to live in that believe in the possible, to stake our lives on it.

The theologian Soren Kierkegaard said faith is like floating in a deep ocean. If you struggle and thrash about, you will eventually tire and sink. But if you relax and trust, you will float. Faith, you see is trusting in the bouyancy of God to keep you safe. It is allowing God to be your everything: the ground in which you live and move and have your being. You have to let go of your fears and trust in the abundance of God and how much it can be present in your everyday life. That’s the sign that Jesus was pointing to in this miraculous act.

To close, I share with you a famous quote by Marianne Williamson.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small does not serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.

We were born to make manifest the glory of
God that is within us.

It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine,
we unconsciously give other people
permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our own fear,
Our presence automatically liberates others.



May the God of all possibility bless you with the peace of Christ which passes all understanding. Amen.

IT'S ALL "US"

A Sermon for the 7th Sunday after Pentecost
Pastor Laura Gentry

Ephesians 2:11-22

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior.

There was a young man who was an All-American football player in college and then went on to play professional football for a few years. After a brief career, he came back to his alma mater as an assistant coach. One of his main responsibilities was to go and recruit players the team. Before he made his first recruiting trip, he went in to visit with the head coach—the same coach for whom he had played when he was in college.

The head coach was a serious old guy with a raspy voice from all the years he’d yelled at players. He had held that position as head coach for many years, was widely known and highly respected all across the country. The new young coach said to him, “Coach, I’m about to head out on my first recruiting trip, but before I go I want to be sure that you and I on the same page. Tell me, Coach, what kind of player do you want me to recruit?”

The old coach leaned back in his chair. He looked the young coach straight in the eyes and said: “Son, I’ve been at this job a long time and over the years I have noticed that there are several different kinds of players. For example, there are some players who get knocked down and they stay down. That’s not the kind we want!” He said, “And then there are find some players who get knocked down and they get right back up only to get knocked down again and then they stay down. That’s not the kind we want!”

And then the old coach went on: “And then there are some players who get knocked down and they get knocked down and they get knocked down, and every time they get knocked down, they get right back up!”

At this point, the young coach got excited and he said, “Now, that’s the kind of player we want, isn’t it, Coach?”

“No!” said the old head coach. “We want the one doing all that knocking down!!”

Now in today’s epistle lesson, the Apostle Paul is talking about this kind of incessant knocking down, but he’s not talking about knocking down people—like in football—he’s talking about knocking down the walls that divide people from one another.

Paul, you see, was born into an “us” and “them” world. There were two, very distinct camps: the Jews—that is, the chosen people of God, to whom God had been revealed and had given all the promises of Hebrew Scriptures—and the Gentiles—that is, everybody else. In his worldview, the Jews were “us,” and the Gentiles, clearly, were “them.” Until Paul’s conversion to Christianity, he was so set on the wall between them that he persecuted everyone who wasn’t a Jew and even killed them. So the writer of today’s scripture understands how walls work.

Some things never change. Nineteen hundred years later, the English writer Rudyard Kipling said, “East is east, and west is west, and never the twain shall meet.” He wasn't just saying that to sound poetic, even though it does (especially the twain part). Kipling was reflecting the reality of the world in which he lived. He fully understood that there is something deep in human nature that makes us want to divide the world into us and them—that causes us to choose sides, to draw dividing lines, and to build up walls, walls we will defend with our very lives.
There are so many ways in which we do this! Our society has endless barriers and walls that divide us such as cultural background, nationality, race, socioeconomic class, gender, sexual orientation, political party, favorite sports team and so forth. We even divide ourselves up based on the kind of car we drive. We have barriers between Christians—perhaps the most of all. I can’t tell you how many people refer to different Christian denominations as different “religions.” We aren’t of different religions! We are all of the Christian religion—we share the same Lord, Jesus Christ. Even within the ELCA, we build walls that divide us as we struggle to find God’s truth on various theological and social issues that confront our church. In fact, the churchwide assembly is going to be next month: August Aug. 17-23. Because there are so many controversial issues on the table, the Bishop has invited the whole church into 50 days of prayer for wisdom, discernment and unity. Obviously, unity is a big challenge for our church. It's still a world of us versus them.

As humans, we are really good at building walls—both physical and philosophical ones. Some of them have names: the Iron Curtain, the Berlin Wall. We all remember the historical speech of President Reagan's when he challenged the Russian leader about the Berlin Wall. He emphatically said: “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!” I remember visiting that wall when I was a little girl and seeing the fences within fences surrounding the walls with gunmen sitting on towers. I remember hearing my relative recount—with tears streaming down his face—how he had escaped East Germany with bullets whizzing past him as he swam to safety but how he was, then, separated from his friends and family. I never thought that wall would come down in my lifetime. And yet it did! Shortly after I’d graduated from high school, it was dismantled and people all over the world grabbed pieces of it as souvenirs to take home—each stone a powerful symbol that walls CAN be torn down.

This is good news because walls are not God’s intention. Christ came to build bridges, not walls. In Paul’s letter to the Ephesians we read, “He has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us.”

“Something there is that doesn't love a wall,” wrote the great American poet Robert Frost. We could add to that statement: someone there is who doesn't love a wall. That someone is Jesus Christ—the one who came to knock down the dividing walls of our world.

As Christians, then, it is our job to continue that work; to be like that football player who is doing all that knocking down. We are to knock down walls wherever we see them and to be very careful that we don’t contribute to building and maintaining them—which is all to easy to do. We need to examine our lives and our hearts to find those invisible but very real barriers that we place between ourselves and our fellow human beings—setting up the old us and them scenario again. Our fearful, sinful self is all too eager to do this.

“East is east and west is west, and never the twain shall meet,” just isn't okay. Paul explains that in Christ, we have been saved by grace and therefore, we have all been given peace that makes us one. He writes it this way: “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female, for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.” (3:28) In a world that constantly encourages the us and them mentality, the Christian message is radical—it declares that there is no them. Them is a myth. There is only us—we are all in the same boat, all members of the same body with Christ as the head. It reminds me of a bumper sticker I have. It says: “God bless everybody. No exceptions.”

Paul goes on to say that we are to be “one new humanity in place of the two, thus making peace,” For Christ himself is our peace and it is he who makes us one. There is NO us and them. There is only us and Christ is Lord of us all.

But do we live like this is a reality? Think about times when you’ve seen others knocking down dividing walls. What a miraculous thing it is. How can you do this too? How can you build bridges instead of walls? How can you connect with people that you consider them instead of excluding these children of God? What can you personally do to promote Christian unity and peace in our world? These are questions which Paul urges us to ask of ourselves day after day, that we may be moved by the Spirit to positive action for the sake of the kingdom.

Let us pray: O God you have made all your people one and sent your Son to preach peace to those who are far off and to those who are near: Grant that people everywhere may seek after you and find you. Pour out your Spirit upon ALL your children; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.


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

THE HIGH COST OF DISCIPLESHIP

A Sermon for the 6th Sunday after Pentecost

by Pastor Laura Gentry

Mark 6:14-29

There is a scene in the first Austin Powers film where Austin and his spying partner, Vanessa, witness the decapitation of one of the “bad guys” in Dr. Evil’s lair. Don’t worry, it’s not gruesome—this is a comedy film. Austin, who is known for his love of puns, can’t help but comment.

Austin Powers: Not the time to lose one's head.
Vanessa Kensington: No.
Austin Powers: That's not the way to get ahead in life.
Vanessa Kensington: No.
Austin Powers: It's a shame he wasn't more headstrong.
Vanessa Kensington: Hmm.
Austin Powers: He'll never be the head of a major corporation.
Vanessa Kensington: Okay, that'll do.
Austin Powers: Okay.

When I examined today’s Gospel reading about the horrible decapitation of the famous prophet, John the Baptist, I decided I’d have to start the sermon out with this set of puns because, how else can you cope with such a horrifying text? I mean, what is this story even doing in the gospel of Mark, let alone our lectionary? There are a lot of gruesome stories in the bible that didn’t make it into the set of lectionary readings like Uzzah who is struck dead just for reaching out his hand to steady the ark of the covenant when it wobbled on its way to Jerusalem (2 Samuel). Why did this story about John the Baptist’s awful death make it in the lectionary? And what are we supposed to gain from having examined it?

Well, to begin with, we should look at where the interlude comes chronologically in the Gospel story. It happens right after Jesus sends the disciples out to do their ministry. Remember? We talked about that last week. They didn’t take anything with them—no purse, no money, to extra clothes, not even a cell phone—and they were given power to heal and to cast out demons. It is during the time they are off doing this exciting ministry that we hear about John’s sad fate.

I think the point of juxtaposing these two stories is to highlight the high cost of discipleship. Jesus’ disciples are off slugging it out with the demons and illnesses and they’re out there on their own without even any snack bars or other provisions that might help prop them up in this difficult work. They’ve just been called as disciples and so they are not that experienced, yet they are sent to proclaim the good news. It’s certainly not an easy mission Jesus has sent them on. It’s costing them everything, as they’ve had to leave their old lives behind do to this.

Meanwhile, John the Baptist is about to loose his head for having had the courage and integrity to criticize Herod Antipas, the tetrarch of Galilee. He had stolen his brother’s wife, Herodias and married her himself. So his wife’s daughter, Salome, was at once his niece and his stepdaughter. John had told Herod that this marriage was a moral outrage. This wasn’t exactly music to his ears. Still, he was fascinated by John and he feared him, recognizing he was a righteous and holy man. Furthermore, he liked listening to John, even though his words were critical. So Herod put him in prison, rather than killing him as Herodias had wanted him to do.

Well, then things really come to a “head” at Herod’s birthday banquet. This was an extravagant event thrown my Herod himself. The entertainment, it seems, was the dance of the stepdaughter/niece, Salome. I’m with John on the being outraged here because it doesn’t sound appropriate for this daughter to be entertaining the party guests in this way. Herod is a bit too “into” his step-daughter’s dance. He is so “pleased,” it says, that he makes an exaggerated oath to give her whatever she wants (up to half his kingdom, which is the most a woman could inherit).

The girl goes to her mother for guidance on what to request. Herodias has had it in for John from the start and so without hesitation, she tells Salome to ask for the head of John the Baptist on a platter.

Now Herod’s in a tight spot. All of the guests heard him give his word that he would grant the girl her request. If he wants to be a man of his word, he will have to do it. It says he is deeply grieved about it but it’s rather difficult to have pity for him. He orders the dirty deed done and John’s head is brought into the banquet on a platter—still dripping with blood—and presents to Salome, who gives it to her evil mother.

Um...where’s the happy ending? I guess the old saying holds: No good deed goes unpunished. Here we have an incredible prophet in John. Even his birth was a extraordinary and miraculous and had been prophesied. While he was still in his mother’s womb, John leapt for joy upon hearing the greeting of Jesus’ mother. He was born to a family of priests to prepare the way for Jesus. He called people to repentance and baptized them in the Jordan River. He had no earthly possessions and ran around in nothing but some stinky camel hair and ate wild honey and grasshoppers, for crying out loud! The guy was committed. Here is a prime example of fabulous discipleship. He didn’t give God a portion of his life—he gave it all. And in the end, he’s gotta die for it? What’s the reward in that?

And he wasn’t the only one to die for his faith: the apostles did too. The only one who lived out his days was Saint John but he was exiled to the island of Patmos where he is said to have written the book of Revelation. All the others died as martyrs: killed for having the courage to proclaim the good news of Jesus Christ.

John’s death foreshadows the death of the one he has come to prepare the way for: Jesus Christ. Just as Herod reluctantly orders the death of John, Pontius Pilate will soon reluctantly order the death of Jesus. Yes, even the Son of God is given the death sentence for bringing the good news. So is it really good news?

Indeed it is, because God does not let death have the final say. Jesus is laid in the tomb but three days later, he is risen to new life and with it, he brings resurrection power to the whole world. He lives that death may die!

And so the tragedy of John’s violent death, as well as the tragedy of all those disciples dying in the line of duty is nullified. There is no sting in death—there is no victory in it at all. Jesus’ has taken their deaths and transformed them into resurrections.

Hopefully, none of us will ever have to face what John the Baptist or any of the apostles did. Nevertheless, we can expect problems in our life of faith. Don't be mistaken: the cost of discipleship is extremely high. We can lose friends, even jobs because of our religious convictions. We can experience hardship and prejudice and any manner of setbacks. Yet these things don’t matter compared to the glory that will be revealed to us. Jesus has given us his life so that we may have life and have it abundantly. And he has called us to a life of discipleship in which we give our very ALL for the sake of the kingdom. We cannot hold back even a part of ourselves—no, we must follow the example of the saints who have gone before and dive right into our mission. We can do it because the Spirit’s power is with us and nothing can ever separate us from the love of God. Amen.

LET GOD BE GOD

A Sermon for the 5th Sunday after Pentecost, Year B

by Pastor Laura Gentry

Mark 6:1-13

There was a kid who got kicked out of the neighborhood drug store by the time he was in high school. Needless to say, he’d caused the owner quite a bit of grief in his mischievous younger days. Twelve years later, while visiting home after his ordination into the ministry, his mother sent him to the same store. When he walked in the owner looked up and said, “I told you: OUT!”

It’s hard to be a prophet in your own hometown. That’s the same thing Jesus found out in today’s gospel reading. It’s hard to gain respect from those who know you. You know what the definition of an expert is, don’t you? It’s someone from at least 50 miles away.

Sometimes, I think we forget how difficult Jesus had it. In Mark 3:21, we see that Jesus’ own family had labeled him crazy and tried to restrain him.  A few verses later, his mother and brothers and sisters try again to remove him from his teaching ministry.  In last week’s story when he came to raise the girl from the dead he was laughed at.

And now in today’s gospel scene, he’s back in his hometown and goes to the temple to teach. The people who heard it are astounded. The Greek word used here implies a hint of incredulity. They can’t comprehend it! I can imagine all the muttering things like: Hey isn’t that Mary and Joe’s kid? The one that used to throw rocks at the house? Yeah, yeah and his brothers were all messed up. Now he thinks he’s a prophet? Some great teacher back here in Nazareth? And doing miracles! I hear he just raised a little girl from the dead. No way could Joe’s kid do that. He’s gotta be a fraud.

Yes, Jesus is flatly rejected by his peers—by the folks he grew up with. It amazes Jesus that they could be so impervious to the good news. This scene shows us how deeply God has entered into our world in the person of Jesus. He experiences all the same problems, peer pressures, disappointments and sufferings that we do. Yet he gives us a model of how to deal with the pain of being human. He shows us that depending upon God is the way to get through it.

Jesus is anchored in God’s love and even if he is not accepted, he will not lose heart. In fact, he realizes that trying to do more miracles here in his hometown is going to be a waste of time because they won’t understand that he’s not trying to be a show off with the miracles. He is trying to give them a glimpse of the Kingdom of God. Instead, these displays of power will become a stumbling block for them. So he does no great deeds of power here.

And then he calls his disciples and immediatelysends them out in pairs to proclaim the Gospel. The amazing thing is that he sends the out without anything: no money, no extra clothes, no bag. I like to have a different bag to match each of my outfits but Jesus’ disciples are sent out with no bag at all! He instructs them to depend upon God, not other things that would normally sustain them on such a journey. And he tells them something strange. He says: “If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them.”

Now I used to be troubled by that statement because it comes across as rather rude, even mean-spirited. Shaking your shoes at them? Why should Jesus tell them to do this? It comes from his own experience. He knows that not everyone will accept the good news and some will wholeheartedly reject it. There is danger that this rejection will discourage them from moving forward with their mission. Jesus knows that they have a vital task and they cannot allow nay-sayers to get them down. Negativity has a way of doing that, as you know. Instead, Jesus instructs them to be connected to God and depend upon God’s mercy entirely and so if someone has something bad to say, shake it off and move forward.

This is all well and good but it is easier said than done. How many times have you been set back by the negative comments of others, particularly your friends and loved ones? Being rejected by a stranger is no big deal compared to being rejected by people close to you. How do you deal with it? How do you not lose heart? Do you ever feel too weak to go on?

Paul talks about this in the Epistle lesson for today. He had been through all kinds of rejection and even had what he called a “thorn in the side.” We don’t know if this was literally a torn stuck in his side or a metaphor for some other medical or emotional problem. Whatever it was, it made life really difficult for him. And like Jesus, he had a hard time teaching in places where people knew him. They doubted his motives and authority.

Indeed, Paul felt weak. Yet he discovered a profound truth in this weakness: it is strength. It is strength because it keeps you humble. It keeps you from believing your greatness comes from your own doing. It enables you to cling more tightly to your Savior. God’s power is made perfect in weakness. Grace, he explained, is all sufficient for us no matter how many thorns we have in our flesh.

In their weakness, Jesus’ disciples truly experience the sufficiency of grace. Without a bag, they go out to do God’s work. They follow Jesus’ advice to walk away from rejection and to allow God’s power to fill their weakness. Truly God’s power became their power. This passage tells us that they cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them. Yes, they could cast out demons and heal the sick! God’s power was evidently in them.

And so this morning, we must ask ourselves: Is God’s power in me? Do I trust that if I humbly allow God to work through my weakness, I will have amazing power too?

The theologian Meister Eckhart wrote: “A pear seed grows into a pear tree, and a hazelnut seed grows into a hazelnut tree and a seed of God grows into God.  God does not ask anything else of you but to let yourself go and  let God be God. In you.”

This reminds me of a story. A man was hiking along the top of a great cliff and lost his footing and fell over the edge. Yet he managed to grab the edge of the rock with one hand. As he dangled there in great danger, he prayed: “God, God, are you there?”

And a voice said: “Yes, my son, It’s me: God. I’m here for you.”

Relieved, the man prayed: “God, you’ve got to help me out of this situation. Tell me what to do!”

God said: “You are going to have to trust me entirely. What I want you to do is let go of the rock.”

There was a long pause and then the man said: “Is there anyone else up there?”

That’s us. We say we want God’s help but when God shows up and asks us to let go and trust him, we get a little nervous.

It’s easy to get puffed up about our own accomplishments, but the goal of the Christian life is humbly to let yourself go and let God be God. In you. For with God, all things are possible. But if we stand in the way of the Spirit, we’ll be like the nay-sayers in Nazareth who could not believe and for whom no great works of power were performed. No, we are called to proclaim the good news even though the road is rough and we are weakened by the thorns in our flesh and not everyone, especially those in our hometown, will receive the liberating message we share. Nevertheless, we shake it off and press on. We must let God’s power be made perfect in our human weakness. Today, may we hear the call to truly let go and let God be God. In Us. Amen.

GO IN PEACE & BE HEALED

A Sermon for the 4th Sunday after Pentecost, Year B

by Pastor Laura Gentry

Mark 5:21-43

When Jesus had crossed again in the boat to the other side, a great crowd gathered around him; and he was by the sea. Then one of the leaders of the synagogue named Jairus came and, when he saw him, fell at his feet and begged him repeatedly, "My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well, and live."

So he went with him. And a large crowd followed him and pressed in on him. Now there was a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years. She had endured much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had; and she was no better, but rather grew worse. She had heard about Jesus, and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, for she said, "If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well." Immediately her hemorrhage stopped; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. Immediately aware that power had gone forth from him, Jesus turned about in the crowd and said, "Who touched my clothes?" And his disciples said to him, "You see the crowd pressing in on you; how can you say, 'Who touched me?'" He looked all around to see who had done it. But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling, fell down before him, and told him the whole truth. He said to her, "Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease."

While he was still speaking, some people came from the leader's house to say, "Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the teacher any further?" But overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the leader of the synagogue, "Do not fear, only believe." He allowed no one to follow him except Peter, James, and John, the brother of James. When they came to the house of the leader of the synagogue, he saw a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly. When he had entered, he said to them, "Why do you make a commotion and weep? The child is not dead but sleeping." And they laughed at him. Then he put them all outside, and took the child's father and mother and those who were with him, and went in where the child was. He took her by the hand and said to her, "Talitha cum," which means, "Little girl, get up!" And immediately the girl got up and began to walk about (she was twelve years of age). At this they were overcome with amazement. He strictly ordered them that no one should know this, and told them to give her something to eat. (New Revised Standard Version)


Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ.

Today, we are given not 1 healing story in the gospel passage but 2: 2 women, 2 healings, 2 miracles. What’s it all about? And, most importantly, what is the gift in these stories and how can it bless us and move us on toward greater healing?

Well, we really don’t know much about either woman. We are not even given their names. We do know they are both in crisis. And they are both subject to the taboos around the mysterious power of life. Neither a bleeding woman nor a dead girl were to be touched. They were considered ritually unclean and needed to be avoided by practicing religious people.

The author of this gospel also carefully weaves in the number 12. The hemorrhaging women has been sick for 12 years and the little girl who died had lived for 12 years. This number has important symbolic value in Judaism. In their history, the nation began from Jacob’s 12 sons who founded the 12 tribes of Israel. Jesus would later go on to choose 12 apostles. This number even affected the western calendar, which is why the year is divided into 12 months. It was thought that this number represented God’s mysterious union with humanity. And in this story, we certainly see these women transformed by God’s union with them.

The scene opens with a synagogue leader named Jarius approaching Jesus with the request that he come to heal his daughter. The death of a child was quite commonplace in those days. Historian John Pilch estimates that in Jesus' time 60 percent of live births usually died by their mid-teens. So parents would have been always bracing themselves for the strong possibility that they would lose some of their children to death. Not only that, this was a time when daughters were not valued as much as sons. Yet Jarius obviously loves his daughter wholeheartedly. He cannot bear the thought of losing her. He has faith in Jesus, who is known as an itinerant preacher-healer who was already in trouble with the religious authorities. He himself is one of these authorities having problems with Jesus. Nevertheless, he wants his daughter healed but he has to go out on a limb to do so. By asking Jesus to come heal his child, he risks being ridiculed by his peers. Yet his faith drives him and he makes his request to Jesus and thankfully, Jesus agrees and goes with him straight-away to the house.

As he is going, however, Jesus encounters the hemorrhaging woman. She has been bleeding for 12 years. It has continued to flow. This word could also be translated as "river." For all these awful years, the woman was being taken down a river of physical and social pain. She must have felt depressed and exhausted from all that she had endured. No treatment had worked for her. Her physicians had failed her. And yet for some reason, she has not given up up. No, she continues to hold on to her faith. She believes God has the power to heal her. And so when she hears that Jesus—this mighty healer from God—is in town, she is desperate to see him.

For her to be out in the public was forbidden. She was supposed to stay isolated because of her ritual uncleanness. Yet she ignores this law because more than anything she wants to be healed. Not only does she have faith, but she allows that faith to move her into action. She actively pursues Jesus, thinking: If I can just touch the hem of his garment, I will be healed. And so she goes out in faith and finds Jesus. The crowd is thick and she must press her way through to get to him. Finally, she makes it to Jesus and touches his robe and immediately, Jesus can feel the power rush out of him. God’s mysterious connection with humanity (that the number 12 represents) is given to this woman who had been suffering 12 years.

Jesus whirls about and asks, "Who touched my clothes?"

This seems to stupefy the disciples. They are aware of how huge the crowd is. It’s a hot day it the desert. All those sweaty bodies bumping up against one another. Who touched Jesus? Pretty much everybody. They’re all smashed up around him. How could he possibly notice one particular touch?

But Jesus knows this is not an unintentional bumping-into-someone in a crowd touch. It is a faith-filled touch of someone who has come to him in grateful expectation of healing. Thus, he continues to look for this person. The woman cannot hide. She knows that she’s been transformed by this encounter. So she comes forward in fear and trembling. She falls down before him, and tells him the whole truth. Then Jesus says to her, "Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease."

Even though Jesus was on a mission to get to the 12 year old girl, he allows himself to be sidetracked by the need of this person who has reached out to him in faith. His the son of God, after all, he can multitask. He compassionately heals her before moving on to the task at hand: to help a woman who is barely a woman—just a little girl of 12.

As Jesus is still speaking to the crowd, some people come rushing from Jarius’ house and give him the terrible news that his daughter is dead. Even this devastating news does not ruffle Jesus’ feathers. He calmly uses it as a teaching moment. He says: "Do not fear, only believe." Some call this Jesus’ shortest sermon. It says it all: Do not fear, only believe.

They go to the house and find the typical demonstrations of grief for that time and place going on. People are weeping and wailing loudly. But Jesus heads right into the whirlpool of grief and says: "Why do you make a commotion and weep? The child is not dead but sleeping." They are so surprised by this statement that they actually laugh at him. So Jesus takes these unbelieving nay-sayers and put them outside the house. Perhaps he knows their negative energy might affect his healing and so he creates a space of faith and not fear by sending them out.

Jesus takes the little girl by the hand. Again, this is against the religious laws. He is supposed to stay away from unclean, dead bodies but the compassion of God is greater than the religious customs. Jesus breaks the rules in order to break the bonds of death. He says to the little girl: Get Up! And astonishingly, she does. She comes back from the dead by the touch of God’s power in Jesus!

Do not fear, only believe. This is what Jesus had told them and this is exactly why. Even death has no sting with Jesus at hand. The little girl is immediately able to awaken from death and be so healthy that she is ready for a snack. Jesus tells them to go get her something to eat.

So what are we to take from all of this? Where is the blessing? What seems most prominent in these stories is the power of faith. Jesus has the power to heal and to raise from the dead. Yet many people around him overlook that and even criticize him. But Jarius and the hemorrhaging woman believe in him. They know he can change their situations and so they do everything in their power to reach out to him in faith. They push passed the boundaries that existed for them and grab at Jesus with all they have inside them. This is what God wants from us. Do we reach out for Jesus? Fervently? Do we want to be healed? Do we trust him with our life and our death?

In these stores we glimpse the power of God that is ours for the asking. God wants to forgive and heal us. God wants to grant us eternal life. May we take inspiration from the characters in these stories and reach out to Jesus anew, trusting he will say to us what he said to the woman: your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed. Amen.

FUNERAL SERMON FOR NANCY AMBLE

Sermon for Christians Gathered Together at the Death

of

Nancy Amble

June 27, 2009

1:00 p.m.

by Pastor Laura Gentry

Isaiah 43: 1-7
But now thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. I give Egypt as your ransom, Ethiopia and Seba in exchange for you. Because you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you, I give people in return for you, nations in exchange for your life. Do not fear, for I am with you; I will bring your offspring from the east, and from the west I will gather you; 6I will say to the north, “Give them up,” and to the south, “Do not withhold; bring my sons from far away and my daughters from the end of the earth— everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made.”

1 Corinthians 15:51-57
Listen, I will tell you a mystery! We will not all die, but we will all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. For this perishable body must put on imperishability, and this mortal body must put on immortality. When this perishable body puts on imperishability, and this mortal body puts on immortality, then the saying that is written will be fulfilled: “Death has been swallowed up in victory.” “Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

John 11:17-26
When Jesus arrived, he found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb four days. Now Bethany was near Jerusalem, some two miles away, and many of the Jews had come to Martha and Mary to console them about their brother. When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went and met him, while Mary stayed at home. Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask of him.” Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.” Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.” Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die."

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

It seems all too soon that we’ve gathered today, at the end of Nancy’s journey on earth, to celebrate her life and entrust her to God. Yet celebrate, we must, because Nancy lived a life worth celebrating.

In the reading from Isaiah, we heard those comforting words from the Lord: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.” In the waters of Baptism, God first claimed Nancy and promised to walk with her through all the days to come—to be her God, to give her faith and love her unconditionally.

As Nancy grew, so did the faith God had given to her. She embraced the grace and love of her Savior and reflected it in her exuberant life.

T'was Grace that taught my heart to fear.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear
The hour I first believed.

Nancy had courage, boldness and joy as well as sensitivity and kindness. Her family and loved ones gathered here can attest to Nancy’s amazing ability to care. She was a shining light that brightened our lives more than we can describe.

Here at Our Savior’s Lutheran Church, Nancy was a true treasure. She was always ready to serve and was instrumental in many of the innovations in the way we do things around here. For example, we now have a sanctuary filled with lilies on Easter, geraniums on Pentecost and ponsettias on Christmas. Nancy started that. And we have flower stands to put them on—Nancy ordered those. And the beautiful oil candle Advent wreath we put out each year—Nancy ordered that too. You may know that she was a great shopper. When we ran a children’s choir, she propped me up as we managed the mob of kids—or at least mostly managed the mob of kids on rehearsal days. Yes, her faith was always in action.

And Nancy’s faith bouyed her up throughout her life. That passage from Isaiah goes on to say: “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.”

Like the rest of us, Nancy had to pass through the rivers and walk through the fire at various times in her life. Yet, because of her faith, the rivers did not overwhelm her. Because of her faith the fire did not burn her, the flames could not consume her.

Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come;
'Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far
and Grace will lead me home.

Nancy’s confidence in grace was never more evident than in her battle with cancer. No matter how much she suffered, Nancy remained confident that she was walking in the love of God. She refused to be consumed by the fire of her illness. She held fast to the rock of her faith and seemed more able to talk about her own death than her

loved ones. When they’d cry too much she’d say something along the lines of: “Cut it out!”

Nancy’s faith informed her that death was not something to fear. Fear not, her Savior had said, for I have redeemed you, I have called you by name, you are mine. Just has she had not feared living, Nancy did not fear dying. She knew that death is but a gateway to eternal life. As we heard in the scripture passage from l Corinthians: “Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?”

There is no sting for those who have faith in Jesus Christ, who has won the victory on our behalf and saves us by grace. There is no sting. When we are claimed by our Savior, nothing can take us out of that grasp. Jesus said: “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. “ Nancy knew this. She believed it in her heart. She was certain that grace would lead her home.

Yes, it is true: Nancy has left this world. She is no longer walking among us in the flesh. We can’t see her or touch her. We can’t call her up on the phone as we liked to do. But we are confident that she is not gone. Her soul is imperishable and it is now in the hand of God. We believe that we’ve not seen the last of her. No, we will be reunited with Nancy and all the saints that have gone before. In God, her love is eternal and so is ours. This makes our lives so profoundly meaningful and beautiful. We must embrace this beauty and live in it each and every moment that we are given.

This is why we may have tears today but it is really a day of celebration. We celebrate the wonderful, loving life of Nancy Lou Olsen Sherwood Amble. 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 faith and guided her through all her days—helping her through the ups, the downs, the rivers and the fires—never once leaving Nancy’s side or allowing her to be consumed or burned. We celebrate the God who does not let his children go. And we look forward with great confidence to the day when God will call us to be home in heaven.

We will gather at the river that flows from the throne of God. It is difficult to believe that there is a river more beautiful than the Mississippi but apparently there is. We will one day arrive at that river and stand with Nancy and all the saints in light and praise our Maker with joyful dancing and singing that has no end.

When we've been here ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to sing God's praise
Than when we've first begun.