THE JOYFUL WINE

A Sermon for the Second Sunday of Epiphany

Pastor Laura Gentry

John 2: 1-11

Here we are in the beginning of the church year, in the season of epiphany. The liturgical calendar takes us through the story of God’s creation of all things, of God’s calling and forming of God’s people, of Jesus life, death, and resurrection, and of the growth of the early church.

This morning, our Gospel focuses us on the very beginning of Jesus’ ministry, on the performance of his first sign, as John calls it. In this Gospel, seven or eight signs are described, depending upon how they are counted. These signs are more than just miracles, they are miracles with lessons and deeper, symbolic meaning that help us understand who Jesus was and what he was all about. So let’s dive into the sign of the wine and see what mysteries are being revealed in it.

Jesus, his mother and his friends are attending a wedding in the village of Cana. Ancient weddings, you must understand, were quite a party. Music played a big role in these celebrations. The Song of Solomon preserves some of the singing that occurred at the festive weddings. One song, for example, that the groom would sing goes like this:

Arise, my love, my fairest!

Arise, and come away!

Lo, the winter is past,

the rain is over and gone.

Flowers appear in the land.

The time for singing has come,

the voice of the turtledove calls,

the fig puts forth figs

and the vines are in bloom.

Arise, my love, my fairest!

Arise, and come away!

There was great joy and revelry at these events in Jesus’ day. But in the midst of the celebration in Cana, there is suddenly a problem. The wine has run out! There’s no hiding the fact and news of it has begun spreading among the guests. They are, perhaps, saying things like, “Oh my, how can the groom provide for his new wife when his family can’t even provide for this wedding feast?”

This is a great embarrassment for this otherwise respectable feast. This could ruin the whole event! So Jesus’ mother, in an effort to save the day, looks at her son and says, “they have no more wine.” Clearly, she knows that it is within his power to change the situation.

Jesus responds by saying, "Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come."

But Mary knows better. She knows that it has. She doesn’t even try to talk him into it. Instead, she just goes over to the servants and gives them orders. "Do whatever he tells you," gesturing toward her son.

Mary is not their master and neither is Jesus, but they are guests of the master and so they take orders from him. “Fill these jars with water,” he tells them.

Now here is the shocking part that we are likely to miss. Those vessels of water that Jesus is referring to should already have been filled with water in order to fulfill the law of Moses. The water in them was used for ritual washings. But now we find out that they are empty! They are a pretense. They are hypocrites who pretend to keep the tradition, but do not.

The servants must be embarrassed now that the truth is out. It probably took some prodding to get them to fill the jars. But the jar-filling is an extremely important part of this sign. They must be filled for the miracle to take place. It symbolizes the fact that unless the tradition of the prior age is fulfilled, the new age cannot come.

The other Gospel writers explain this message in a different way. Matthew documents Jesus saying, “I came to fulfill the torah and the prophets.” Luke tells us of a Son who came to redeem the people of the Jewish tradition, to validate all that they had lived for over the centuries. That’s what John is saying with this story of the empty jars. They remind us Jesus has come to fulfill the covenant that God made long ago with their ancestors, a covenant that they broke again and again. Only after Jesus had fulfilled the covenant could they taste the wine of new life, the wine of the resurrection.

Having filled these vessels with water, the servants begin serving it to the guests. They are probably shaking in their boots that they will get in trouble for serving water when wine is called for, but they are obeying Jesus’ orders. Their obedience, however, makes the miracle possible, thus demonstrating the importance of obedience to Jesus.

And now comes the huge surprise—the climax of the drama! As the water is poured out, it becomes fine wine. In the giving, in the offering, the miracle occurs.

The guests are overjoyed that they not only have wine, but they have the very best of wine. The steward goes to the bridegroom and says: "Everyone serves the good wine first, and then the inferior wine after the guests have become drunk. But you have kept the good wine until now."

This is metaphorical language. What’s going on here is that there are two bridegrooms here and a true Father. The first bridegroom has fallen short. He couldn’t supply enough wine. All he could boast were empty vessels that made it look like they were religious people. But along comes the truer Son and the party is saved. This Son realizes that the empty jars have to be filled and then emptied in order to produce joy for everyone. As the water is poured out for the guests, so this Son pours himself out for the sake of the world. He offers his very self as the good wine for the world.

The story ends here, but it is not an end—it is the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. In this sign, Jesus has revealed his glory and now his disciples believe. He has revived the party, he has brought joy and gladness. He has shown us, as he did throughout his ministry, that this is the dawn of a new age.

In this new age, my friends, we are not judged as we deserve. That’s the good news we celebrate throughout our church year. Jesus, the bridegroom offers his life for the salvation of the world. He reveals himself to be the joyful wine that will never, never run out. As the bridegroom, he calls to his beloved church: “Arise, and come away! Lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. Flowers appear in the land. The time for singing has come!”

And that is an epiphany of glory that should make our hearts rejoice! Amen.

© Laura Gentry 2010

COMING HOME

A Sermon the 2nd Sunday after Christmas

Pastor Laura Gentry

Jeremiah 37: 7-14

I’ll be home for Christmas!” so crooned Bing Crosby and so well did he croon it, that he made the song one of American’s best loved Christmas songs.

The idea of going home from Christmas is as popular as the song. Did you go home for Christmas? This season always evokes thoughts of family and close friends—of home. Many people have a deep yearning in their heart to go home for the holidays. And those who can’t be with loved ones on Christmas can become depressed and lonely. The longing for “home” is ingrained in us—whatever and wherever that beloved place of comfort and rest is.

And yet for some, home is a place to which we cannot return because it no longer exists. Perhaps our families have moved away from that special childhood home town, or split up, or aged considerably or passed on, and so going home doesn’t have the power that it used to. Perhaps our sense of home is that we long for a time gone by, you know, the “good old days” when life seemed safer, simpler and changes happened slowly enough that we could keep up. Going “home” in 2010 is a complex issue—it entails more than just taking a road trip to where our family members live. Perhaps it is that truly peaceful state of mind we grasp for, we yearn for, that somehow seems perpetually just out of reach.

In our Old Testament lesson for today, the prophet Jeremiah speaks to those who will soon be returning from exile—longing, as we do, for home. These people had originally been dwelling in Judah, the promised land. The Lord their God had made a covenant with their ancestors. God had delivered them out of Egypt, led them through the desert and brought them to this land. This was the land where they believed God himself lived. Their homes were there, their jobs were there, and most importantly: the temple was there on Mount Zion in Jerusalem—the only proper place, they believed, where they could worship God in peace and joy.

But eventually, their sin brought destruction upon this land. Judah had become a nation of people that no longer loved God with all their heart and soul and might. They became self-centered and heartless. They followed after other gods and this caused them to lose their passion for justice. No one cared about their neighbors anymore—they wouldn’t listen to God. And so God allowed the Babylonians to come and conquered them. Thousands and thousands of Judah’s most prominent inhabitants were taken away to Babylonia to live in exile. Scattered, weary, restless and vulnerable, they longed for home. And now 49 years later, the prophet promises them something astonishing.

Jeremiah’s prophesy for them is very powerful—especially as we consider the context of their sorrow at being so broken and so far from home. And what does God say to these weary people? What message does Jeremiah deliver? “For thus says the Lord,” our first reading says, “Sing aloud with gladness for Jacob and raise shouts for the chief of nations; proclaim, give praise, and say, ‘Save, O Lord, your people, the remnant of Israel.’” (31:1)

What? How in the world would these depressed exiles go about singing aloud, with gladness no less? It seems impossible that God could turn them around so dramatically. They were probably quite upset with God for letting this happen to them, now they are supposed to sing praises? But remember it was their sin that has brought them this ruin, not God’s vengeance. And what does God do for these sinful people in the darkness of their exile? God says, “with consolations I will lead them back, I will let them walk by brooks of water, in a straight path in which they shall not stumble...for the Lord has ransomed Jacob, and has redeemed him from hands too strong for him.” (31:9, 11) God’s response to their sin is grace. God comes to them in their darkness with forgiveness! That’s the kind of God God is.

And not only does God restore them to their homeland as Jeremiah’s prophesy foretold, but they are blessed with great abundance. Their lives “become like a watered garden.” (31:12) What a wonderful image of new life: “a watered garden.” This time of year, gardening seems like a distant memory but think of it for a moment—the beautiful sights and smells of a freshly watered garden. You can almost hear the plants growing. IThe rich new life of a watered garden is a wonder to behold. And so is the life of the Judeans. In due time, they are allowed to return home and their mourning is turned into joyful dancing—their sorrow into gladness. And they are satisfied with the bounty of their forgiving Lord.

But you see, my fear is that we will sit here this morning and not realize that Jeremiah’s prophesy also applies to us. The loneliness of exile did not end forever when the Judeans were returned to their home in 538 BC. The darkness of this world continues to pull God’s people away from the light. We know what it is to live in a changing, violent, unbelieving world with the good old days irretrievably lost—to feel alone and misunderstood and far away from home.

God’s restorative actions didn’t end with the return of the Judeans from Babylonia either. God reached out to us with forgiveness and restoration in the most ultimate way with the birth of that little child, who’s birth we have just celebrated. What came into being in the Christ child was life and that life was the light of all people—the light that came to destroy the veil of darkness that keeps us lonely and separate from God. John’s gospel reminds us that Christ’s light that shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot overcome it. And what do all these fancy phrases from the gospel really mean? They mean that Jesus has come to lead us home—and I am not talking about the kind of home where relatives argue and Christmas presents don’t fit and the turkey gets burned. I am talking about that deep sense of peace we yearn for in our heart of hearts. I am talking about our lives being a watered garden of new life and growth. Christ has come into the world to make that image a reality.

Out of God’s fullness, we are given grace upon grace, and so we must believe it. It is really easy to look around at all the problems of our modern culture and feel hopeless. Even Christians can lose their idealism when we are confronted with the heartaches and injustices of our world. In our own way, we know what it is to feel like exiles! How can we find our way home amidst all this? We must step out in faith. We must take the risk to believe that God’s Word is true. We must follow the prophet’s instructions to: “Sing aloud with gladness for Jacob and raise shouts for the chief of nations; proclaim, give praise, and say, ‘Save, O Lord, your people.’” For God can deliver us from hands too strong for us.

All throughout history, God was faithful to the covenant of love God made with Moses and the Israelites. And Jeremiah tells us how God made that same covenant even more intimate by writing it upon the people’s hearts so that they would all know God deep within their hearts and they would be able to love the Lord their God with all their heart and all their soul and all their might—no matter how far away they had strayed. And in Christ, God’s covenant of love came to blossom as God personally became human to bear our sins for us.

That grace-filled act still calls out to us today as we celebrate the Christmas season. God’s love reaches out to us in our modern context and it calls us out of the distraction and despair. It calls us to believe in a better world—a world of peace and justice where people show their love for God by caring for one another. That kind of world is the home we long for. And that kind of home is not in the past, but in the future. We must believe it it so firmly that we act as if it is already true. This is what’s known as believing the future into being. This is the season of light. The light is shining in the darkness. God’s light has dawned upon our exiled world. Let us dare to believe it and embrace the peace that will lead us home.

© 2009 Laura Gentry

GREAT JOY

A Sermon the 3rd Sunday of Advent

Pastor Laura Gentry

Zephaniah 3: 14-20

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

Let us begin with an Advent prayer written by the late Henri Nouwen:

Lord Jesus,

Master of both the light and the darkness,

send your Holy Spirit upon our preparations for Christmas.

We who have so much to do

seek quiet spaces to hear your voice each day.

We who are anxious over many things

look forward to your coming among us.

We who are blessed in so many ways

long for the complete joy of your kingdom.

We whose hearts are heavy

seek the joy of your presence.

We are your people, walking in darkness, yet seeking the light.

To you we say, “Come Lord Jesus!”

Amen.

This morning, we have come to the third Sunday in Advent. Our Advent wreath is glowing brighter, especially now with the addition of the pink candle of joy. It is beautiful to see how the light is growing on the wreath, for this light symbolizes how the light of Christ is coming into our world, into our darkness.

We are no stranger to this world’s darkness. The darkness is all around us. It is obvious this time of year as the dusk starts hovering before it’s even hit four o’clock. It reminds us of the darkness in our hearts. I read an article that said the number one stressor this season is finances. People stress themselves out wondering how they can afford the Christmas presents they are buying. Instead of focusing their hearts on the coming Christ child, they worry about financial matters.

The second biggest stress of the season, the article said, is grief. People think about the loved ones they have lost and how Christmas just isn’t the same without them. Many people become overwhelmed with loneliness this time of year.

I guess I’ve always known this, but this year I’m experiencing it myself. The first Advent season without my mother has been punctuated with moments where I sense the depth of my loss. I’m all but boycotting Christmas. I’m not putting up the big Christmas tree or decorating the house or sending cards and I haven’t been able to bring myself to buy present one. I know, as many of you do, the heaviness of grief this time of year.

And yet, it is precisely because of this heavy, complicated, human pain we bear that we are made aware of of our need for the growing light of Advent. It is because of our brokenness that we come to seek the light of Christ—a light we need more than we can express. We seek it with all our heart and soul and mind.

I was profoundly struck by something I read by Dietrich Bonhoeffer this week. Bonhoeffer was a German Lutheran pastor and theologian. He was also a participant in the German Resistance movement against Nazism during World War ll. He was subsequently arrested, imprisoned and eventually executed in 1945, shortly before the war's end. So here was a man who understood, firsthand, the terror of being in a prison cell. And here is what he wrote:

“A prison cell, in which one waits, hopes... and is completely dependent on the fact that the door of freedom has to be opened from the outside, is not a bad picture of Advent.”

The door of freedom must be opened from the outside. Bonhoeffer understood that our freedom is not in our own hands. The Advent message is that through we are traveling in the dark, our God has unveiled a plan for a bright future through Jesus Christ. It’s God’s plan, not ours. That’s why we can wait in hope and, yes, even in joy.

And this is what we hear in our scripture reading from Zephaniah for today. The prophet tells the people who sit in great darkness that the power of God is in the midst of them, bringing victory. These people have no reason to hope. Their land has been taken over by foreign invaders. Many live in exile. Their tears flow like the rivers of Babylon. Yet, they are given word that God will be like a mighty warrior in their midst. But this is not the kind of worldly power that we often think of when we hear the word “warrior”. There is such beautiful language used in this prophesy. We hear that God is “a warrior who gives victory; he will rejoice over you with gladness, he will renew you in his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.”

Rejoice over you with gladness. Renew you in God’s love. These are images that remind us more of a mother than a warrior. And the most beautiful image is that God will exult over you with loud singing.

The good news is that no matter how deep our despair, no matter how debilitating our grief, no matter how solid our prison walls, the door is being opened for us. The darkness is being drowned. The light—the pure, vibrant light we so desperately need—is dawning upon us. Yes, us.

Martin Luther preached that the Christmas message was really about us. In a famous Christmas sermon, he wrote:

“Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which shall be to all people; for there is born to you this day a Saviour, who is Christ the Lord.” In these words you clearly see that he is born FOR US. He does not simply say, Christ is born, but TO YOU is born; neither does he say, I bring glad tidings, but TO YOU I bring glad tidings of great joy. Furthermore, this joy was not to remain in Christ, but it shall be to ALL PEOPLE.

It is for us and for all people. Christ is born for us all. He will rejoice over us with singing. Great joy is coming. The door is opening from the outside. Do you believe it?

If you do, then the candle of joy can burn in your heart. May it burn brightly and overwhelm your darkness. Amen.

© 2009 Laura Gentry

GET READY

A Sermon the 2nd Sunday of Advent

by Pastor Laura Gentry

Luke 3: 1-6 • Phillipians 1:3-11

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

How do you get ready for Christmas at your house? Do you put the tree up? Hang lights? Write Christmas cards? Bake cookies? Shop ‘til you drop? All of the above? Christmas has become a rather hectic season that seems to begin sooner and sooner every year. A friend of mine named Holly made a declaration in October. She said: “I am putting up my tree and getting out all of my Christmas music on November first. That’s what I’m doing. I’ve made a decision. No one can stop me.” And indeed, no one could. On All Saint’s Day, Holly had her house fully Christmas-ized.

At church, we are also about the business of getting ready for Christmas. But here, it is an altogether different kind of preparation. Here, we observe the season of Advent, designed to prepare our hearts. The word “Advent” comes from the Latin “Adventus,” which means coming. So it centers around preparing our hearts for the coming of Christ. It is a time of expectant waiting as we light another candle each week, marking this time on our Advent wreath.

Today’s scripture lessons, like the others in the season of Advent, help us focus on how we are to wait for the coming of Christ. The short gospel reading features the famous Advent prophet, John the Baptist. He appears here, not as the unborn baby leaping in his mother’s womb upon hearing the voice of Mary, the mother of Jesus that we heard about just two chapters earlier. Now the story has skipped ahead and he is suddenly a grown man making his way in the wildness—full beard and everything. And he cries out to all those will listen, boldly insisting they prepare the way for the coming savior, dauntlessly demanding they repent in order to do so.

John’s call to repentence is one that echos down through the years and disturbs our sense of comfort today. He’s not singing happy Christmas cheer like the speakers at the shopping mall and the stereo at Holly’s house (beginning at the top of November). He’s not interested in twinkling holiday lights and Black Friday shopping bargains. No, his way of preparing us for Christmas is different. The mountains must be brought down and the valleys filled in, and the crooked ways must be made straight, he trumpets. These are metaphorical images for what he is asking us to do. John’s call is for us to completely and utterly change our lives.

To repent, you see, means to stop going in one direction and turn around so you can go in another. By inviting us to repent, he is asking us to stop and take a hard look at our lives, to be radically honest with ourselves about our sin. We need to be asking: what’s wrong with this picture? What’s not building up the body of Christ in me? How am I actually working against the will of God by what I’m doing and by what I’m not doing?

Our reading from Phillippians, I believe, sheds specific light upon how we can and should change our ways. Paul has written this letter to the church at Phillipi in less than happy circumstances: he has been imprisoned because of his preaching. And yet the whole missive glimmers with joy.

He begins with a greeting of exuberant gratefulness: “I thank my God every time I remember you, constantly praying with joy in every one of my prayers for all of you.” This reflects the solid friendship Paul has formed with this congregation. They have troubles and conflicts like any congregation. They are by no means the model church and they even have theological differences but because they share in the gospel, their hearts are knit together in the family of God nevertheless. There is unity in this friendship, despite their differences. And what does Paul pray for these friends? That the one who began a good work among them will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ.

With great longing on his words, Paul expresses his desire that they get ready for Christ’s coming—which he believed to be at any moment—by embodying Christ’s compassion. “And this is my prayer,” he writes, “that your love may overflow more and more with knowledge and full insight to help you to determine what is best, so that in the day of Christ you may be pure and blameless, having produced the harvest of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ for the glory and praise of God.”

Love in Christ, that’s what keeps Paul going in his dingy prison cell. That’s why he can write such relentlessly positive letters. He know the secret: love conquers all. At the end of the day, what matters most in our lives is the love we give and receive. And the source of that love is God, who loved us enough to send Jesus to be the Savior of the world. Paul knows that if the Phillipians allow the love of God to overflow in their hearts, they will be changed. They will be radically different people who will be a bickery little congregation fighting over the small stuff. Instead, they will find their unity, find their voice and proclaim the joyful, good news of Jesus Christ with love in word and deed. Their lives will produce a harvest of righteousness that can change the world.

Paul’s prayers for them were, indeed, answered. They go on to produce a harvest of righteousness and spread the gospel far and wide. In the book of Acts, we read about how much they accomplished with their shared mission. They embodied the kind of peace we heard about from Isaiah as we lit the Advent wreath today.

So how do you and I get ready for the coming of Christ this Advent season? How do we allow this season to be more than a deluge of busy activities? We must take John’s words to heart and repent and turn away from our sinfulness and our cold, hard-heartedness. We must take Paul’s words to heart and turn to the lovingkindness of Jesus himself and transform the world. This is what God expects from us. That’s the Christmas gift that matters most. So let’s get ready!

Let us pray: God of All Compassion, we thank you for sending your son, Jesus, to be our Savior. Help us to prepare for his coming by repenting of our sin and taking up the mantel of love, that we may live righteously and bring about the peace you desire for our world. Amen.

7 WAYS TO BE THANKFUL

A Sermon for the Thanksgiving Eve

November 25, 2009

Pastor Laura Gentry

Luke 17:11-19

Here we are on the eve of Thanksgiving; the time of year designated to be thankful. We can gloss right over the giving thanks part and head straight for the turkey, or we can see this holiday as an opportunity to cultivate a renewed sense of gratitude in our hearts.

Like the Samaritan in tonight’s reading, we can recognize how completely dependent upon God we are. And like him, we can praise God in a loud voice and throw ourselves at God’s feet, recognizing that what we have is not our entitlement. It is a gift. All is gift.

It’s one thing to know this and it’s another to really live as grateful people. But it is important that we find a way to do so, for as the Roman philosopher Marcus Cicero said: "gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all the others." Elie Wiesel, an award-winning author who survived the Holocaust, said, “when a person doesn’t have gratitude, something is missing in his or her humanity. A person can almost be defined by his or her attitude toward gratitude.”

We are not fully alive if we are not fully grateful. So how can we get grateful? Perhaps you’re not the perky-cheery type—you don’t naturally see the cup as half full and so it’s more difficult to be appreciative. That’s okay because even YOU can learn. Like any other skill, gratitude can be learned. Thus, on Thanksgiving eve, I offer you 7 ways to be thankful. There are countless ways to be thankful, but these are my favorites.

1. Decide to be Thankful
Sounds so easy, doesn’t it? But our intention is very powerful. Just by deciding that you want to be thankful, you’re already well on your way. Better yet, put it in writing. Write: “I want to be thankful” and hang it up where you’ll see it often. This will help motivate you to develop your thankfulness.

2. Say Thanks
You probably already thank people when they do nice things for you but you may still be missing opportunities to say thank you. Whenever anyone does anything for you—big or small—jump at the chance to thank them. And do it with a smile. It makes them feel good and makes you feel good too.

Dan Baker, Ph.D., writes in What Happy People Know: "Just as changing your life can change your language, changing your language can change your life." Most people run themselves down a lot. Do you realize we have about 10,000 conversations with ourselves every day? So what we say to ourselves really matters. When we say thank you to ourselves instead of heaping up condemnation, we can change our lives for the better. Then it is even easier for us to speak thankfulness to others.

3. Start a Thanksgiving Journal
You’ve heard me push this point before but that’s because it really works. In research done by Robert Emmons and Michael McCullough, those who kept a daily journal expressing their thanks experienced higher levels of emotional and physical well-being.This research also proved that keeping such a journal can improve your health: raise energy levels, promote alertness and determination, improve sleep, and possibly relieve pain and fatigue. If there were a free pill available that promised all these things, you’d probably want to to take it, wouldn’t you? Then why not try this simple exercise? It is just a structured way to count your blessings.

Here’s how it works: Get a notebook. At the end of each day, reflect back upon the day’s events and write down five things for which you feel grateful. They can be anything big or small: a nice conversation with someone, an important task accomplished, the beautiful weather. It doesn’t matter what you write, just do it—every day. Five things and as you write them down, think about them and bring to mind the positive emotions associated with those things or events. It generally takes less than 5 minutes to do this and in just 30 days, you will have formed a new habit, thus cultivating a stronger sense of thankfulness.

4. Connect with Thankful People
People who achieve great things always have coaches pushing them to do their best. This same principle works with thankfulness. It’s all to easy to get grumpy, lose our gratefulness and fall into negative patterns when we are trying to go it alone. That’s why we gather together for worship as a congregation: we need to help one another. Find people who can help you see that things are a lot sunnier than they might seem. They are your thankfulness coaches and you are theirs. It’s exciting that you can provide mutual encouragement and urge each other to be your most thankful selves.

5. Write a thank you letter
A great exercise suggested by Dr. Emmons, known as "the father of gratitude," is to compose a thank you letter to a person who has made a positive and lasting influence in your life. Emmons says the letter is especially powerful when you have not properly thanked the person in the past, and when you read the letter aloud to the person face to face.

6. Pray
This quote is attributed to Meister Eckhart: "If the only prayer you say in your life is 'thank you,' that would suffice.” Thankfulness and prayer go hand in hand. Take time daily—perhaps even regularly throughout the day—to pray in thankgiving to God. You can throw up “bullet prayers” that are quick and to the point thanking God for things as they happen. You can also try doing a breath prayer in the quietness of your meditation time where you simply breathe in and out while saying “thank you” in your mind.

7. Give
An important way to cultivate thankfulness is to give out of our abundance to help others. This could be spending time helping people, sharing your talents and gifts as well as giving money to charitable causes. There is joy giving. As we heard in the reading from 2 Corinthians tonight, God loves a cheerful giver. Generosity opens our hearts and allows even more blessings to flow into our lives.


This Thanksgiving, I’m here to tell you, we cannot afford to miss being thankful. Our hearts need gratitude—it is good for what ails us. Jesus knew this, the Samaritan leper knew this, the Pilgrims knew this and scientists know this. The question is do we want to miss out like the nine lepers or do we want to praise God with a loud voice and know that joy of being thankful for the grace bestowed upon us? It is my prayer that these 7 ways to be more grateful will help put you on the thankfulness track so you can cultivate a deeper attitude of gratitude that will transform you and those around you—not just this Thanksgiving, but always. Amen.

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

© 2009 Laura E. Gentry

COME ALIVE

A Sermon the 23rd Sunday after Pentecost

By Pastor Laura Gentry

Mark 12:38-44

In this morning’s Gospel story, Jesus is in the temple with his disciples when he notices a widow who does something interesting.  Though she remains unnamed, she becomes an object lesson of faith. And yet if we take time to notice her as Jesus did, we can learn something extraordinary from her.

In biblical times, you must remember, women could not own property or work for a living. Even if woman had a wealthy husband, she could not inherit his property upon his death.  An unmarried woman, widowed or otherwise, had to rely upon the charity of others. This is why Jesus often spoke about taking care of widows and orphans—these were the two most vulnerable groups of people in their society and so it would be unethical to ignore them. 

Mark doesn’t give us many details about this scene. All we know is that Jesus has been teaching in the temple courts. At this point, he and the disciples are on their way out. But then he stops by the treasury to watch as people make their offerings.  They didn’t pass the plate for offerings like we do today. Instead, people would line up in the outer courtyard of the temple. This was known as the Court of Women because, unlike the rest of the temple, women were allowed to be here. There were 13 trumpet-shaped receptacles along the wall of this courtyard, attended by a priest.  Each person was expected to say aloud the amount and purpose of their gift in order to be heard by the priest.

Can you imagine what an impressive sight this would have been? Most of the people lined up were wealthy. They would have been wearing fancy clothes and tossing in huge sums of money. How would you even notice a poor little widow in such a scene? Why would you care about a woman tossing the two smallest coins in the realm into the offering? Yet, in a move that is so like him, Jesus notices it and calls attention to her act of faith.

I remember reenacting this story in Sunday school class when I was a child. The teacher would let us take turns playing the part of the widow. She’s give us two pennies and we’d get to toss them into the church-shaped Sunday school bank.  It was all very exciting. It made an impression on me that the widows gift was so small: just 2 cents! And that was in the day when you could buy a candy bar for 25 cents. Still, 2 cents seems like nothing to me. Later, in seminary, I learned that the widow’s gift was even less than 2 cents. They were worth one four-hundredth of a shekel—about an eighth of a penny each. They were so small and worthless, they didn’t even bear an imprint like other coins. They were considered the grubbiest of coins in the empire of Rome.

Yet, as she tosses these coins into the treasury, Jesus calls his disciples together and says, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.”

Jesus has the knowledge that these are not just any two coins, they are the woman’s last two coins. The text says, “All she had to live on,” but the Greek is starker. It says she put in her “bios.” It’s the word from which we get “biology,” the study of life. Jesus, then, is saying that the widow put her “life” into the temple treasury that day.

This sermon is not a sermon about tithing. The woman did not give 10 percent of her income, she gave 100 percent. If this were a gamble, she would be placing all her bets on God. But it is not a gamble, it is something far more dangerous than that—it is called faith. Though she has no money to live on, she can confidently throw her life into God’s hands because she has faith.

In Mark’s typical style of simple storytelling, he doesn’t give us the details we’d like to hear. Does Jesus pus his arm around the woman has he is saying this to his disciples? Or does he teach from a distance so that the widow never even knows that Jesus noticed her?  Does Jesus give her money so she will be able to eat this evening? Does she become a follower of Jesus’? Is she one of the women who journey with Jesus from Galilee to the cross and beyond? And what was her name? We’ll never know.

What we do know is that in facing a bleak future, this widow holds nothing back: she offers her very life to God.

Now that we’ve noticed the widow’s faith, what does it have to teach us? The theologian Soren Kierkegaard, explained that God’s grace in Jesus Christ is entirely free, but it costs us everything because we must take the leap of faith.  We must trust God with our whole lives.  Being a disciple of Jesus is a serious endeavor—it is not for hobbyists. 

And I invite us to consider what this means for our congregation. This text is often used by preachers for a stewardship sermon. They urge parishioners to be more like the widow by putting more money into the plate. And while this is a good, scripturally supported point, I think Jesus is painting with even broader strokes in this teaching moment. He wants not just our loose change—he wants our very lives to change. He wants us living in God’s grace fully.

I recently read a quote by Howard Thurman, the influential American pastor, author and civil rights leader, and it really inspired me. He said: “Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world need is people who have come alive.”

What makes you come alive? It is all too easy to sleep walk through this life and find ourselves surprised when it is over. God has given us this life. All that we have is from our Creator. We are called to live it—I mean really live it. We must be alive. I think that’s what stewardship is all about. 

What makes this church come alive? God has blessed this congregation with 142 years of ministry. We have a particular responsibility to keep it going. In the midst of a national trend where churches are shrinking and closing their doors, we are still growing. How can we keep it up? How can we provide relevant, exciting ministry that makes you want to stay involved and makes you want to invite your neighbors to get involved too? Our church must be alive.

And when we ask ourselves how we can come alive and how our church can come alive, I think we need to look back at that widow for clues. She did not panic about what she didn’t have. Instead, she focused on what she did have: a God who could be trusted even when all evidence seemed to point to the contrary. She was able to summon the courage to give her “bios”—all that she had to live one, her whole life. What if you and I could do the same? What if we absolutely turned over the driving wheel of our lives to God? How would that change the way we live? How would that make us come alive and in doing so, inspire others to do the same?

Jesus invites us to come alive today. May we open our hearts to trust God so entirely that we may. Amen.

© 2009 Laura Gentry

ALL SAINTS DAY REMINDS US WE'RE ALL SAINTS

A Sermon All Saints Sunday
by Pastor Laura Gentry

On the October 17th show of the NPR news quiz show “Wait Wait...Don’t Tell Me!” comedian Susie Essman played the game called “Not My Job” in which the contestant is asked three questions about a subject her or she knows nothing about. Since Susie plays a character on the HBO TV show “Curb Your Enthusiasm” who is anything but a saint, they thought it would be funny to ask her questions about famous saints. Indeed, she did, know nothing about them. Still, she managed to make enough educated guesses to win. Now because it is All Saint’s Day, I’m going to ask you those same questions and we’ll see how much you know. If you heard the show, you’ll have to restrain yourself and not give away the answer. (Answers are at the bottom of this blog post)

1. Saint Simeon Stylite of 5th Century Syria was so popular that he drew pilgrims from all over the world. What caused this stir?
a. He ate nothing but tree bark and yet lived.
b. He stood on a pillar outside for 37 years.
c. He could command worms to appear on the surface of the earth whenever he so desired.

2. Saint Joseph of Cupertino, a monk from the 17th Century in Italy. He became famous, too famous in the eyes of the church because he could do what? Was it...
a. Fly
b. Hold his breath for a whole day
c. Talk in the voice of Noah, King David and other Biblical characters

3. Saint Claire of Assisi, famous medieval nun who is known for her good works and her vow of povery. She has a particular role in today’s church, what is it and why did she get it?
a. Because of her famously rapid walks around the monastery, she is the patron saint of NASCAR and other automobile races.
b. Because of regular visions she had on the wall of her room, she is the patron saint of television.
c. As she regularly spoke in tongues she is the patron saint of translators.

When you hear stories about saints like this who could stay on a pillar for years to pray, fly in religious ecstasy and see visions on the wall, it makes us of think of them as being people who are otherworldly, super-hero types. They seem unattainably perfect in the stories we now hear.

For about a thousand years, Jesus and the saints have been portrayed in art with a halo around their head. This is to represent holiness. Christian artists believed that the halo was symbolic of the light of grace bestowed by God. It comes out in an orb around the head like the holy energy of the saintly one. Sometimes, children get confused by this and ask why the people have golden plates stuck on the backs of their heads.

So between the incredible, hard-to-believe stories and the idealized imagery of the saints in art, I don’t think most people associate themselves with saints. Around here we often hear people refer to a scoundrel by saying, “He’s no saint!”

All of these things, I think, contribute to the thinking that saintliness is something earned. We become saints by our exemplary behavior, by our bold faith and our ceaseless obedience to God’s commands, right? Nope. The Bible say we have all sinned and fall short of the glory of God. We can kinda be good but no matter how we hard try, we cannot make ourselves saints.

Does that mean the game is up? Should we throw in the towel and head home because there is no way we are going to attain the status of sainthood? By no means! The good news that we celebrate today is that saint-making is God’s work, not our own.

It all begins in the waters of baptism. Together, the water and God’s word claim us. We are born children of a fallen humanity but in the waters of baptism we are reborn children of God and heirs of eternal life. That’s exciting news because it means that day after day, God gives us grace of righteousness regardless of our worthiness. Martin Luther called this “alien righteousness” because it comes from something outside of ourselves—it is alien. It is certainly not our own righteousness, it is the righteousness that comes from Christ. Paul wrote in II Cor. 1:3; “Blessed be the God and father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who has blessed us in Christ with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places.”

Through faith in Christ, therefore, Christ’s righteousness becomes OUR righteousness and all that he has becomes ours—yes, Jesus himself becomes ours. And so his saintliness is our saintliness. This alien righteousness is a gift of grace.

This is not the only type of righteousness, however. Luther called the second kind righteousness our “proper righteousness.” By this, he meant that the alien righteousness given to us by Christ doesn’t just sit there. It has power to change us—to bear fruit. And as we read in Galatians 5:22, the fruit of the Spirit is “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.” This righteousness enables us, by the power of God, to be transformed into the likeness of Christ. We may never fly like Joseph of Cupertino or get visions on the wall like Claire, and I don't even recommend you try to sit on a pillar for 37 years like Simeon, but we can still become Christ-like. It doesn’t happen all at once, but bit by bit throughout our lives and is finally perfected at the end through death. Yet all the while, we are children of God, and therefore saints. I’m a saint and you’re a saint!

And since there are no halos above your heads like in the paintings, I am going to give you the opportunity to see yourself as the saints you really are, by virtue of your baptism. That’s why I’ve made this “be a saint” painting. Let me show you how it works (puts face through saint painting). Don’t I look saintly?

Now as we sing the hymn of the day, I’ll need some volunteers from our studio audience to come forward and show us their saintliness. And for those of you not brave enough to come now, don’t worry, I will get you later. My plan is to photograph every single one of us in this. After all, it’s All Saints Sunday and we’ve got to celebrate that we are all saints! And in doing so, we celebrate our Savior who has made us his own and infuses us with his righteousness so that we are transformed into the saints God wants us to be. Amen.

See the slideshow of these saints:

Answers to the NPR quiz: 

1. Saint Simeon Stylite of 5th Century Syria was so popular that he drew pilgrims from all over the world. What caused this stir?
b. He stood on a pillar outside for 37 years.

2. Saint Joseph of Cupertino, a monk from the 17th Century in Italy. He became famous, too famous in the eyes of the church because he could do what? Was it...
a. Fly

3. Saint Claire of Assisi, famous medieval nun who is known for her good works and her vow of povery. She has a particular role in today’s church, what is it and why did she get it?
b. Because of regular visions she had on the wall of her room, she is the patron saint of television.