Text: Mark 16:1-8
In 1998, United States Journalist Lee Strobel released the book, “The Case for Christ.” The book resulted from Mr. Strobel’s years of research looking for proof that Christianity’s claims about Jesus were legitimate. Like a good investigative journalist, the book lays out evidence for the accuracy of the Bible, evidence outside of Christian writings that supported its claims, and answers to key questions like, “Is there any reason to believe that the resurrection was an actual event?” What is interesting is that Mr. Strobel was an atheist at the start of his project and he aimed to prove that Christianity’s claims about Jesus were NOT true. However, through his research, the information he found proved to him that Jesus was real and the claims about him were true. It brought him to faith and Mr. Strobel is a Christian to this day.
The gospel of Mark has a very different version of the resurrection, one that Mr. Strobel would have found disappointing. Unlike the other gospels, Mark gives little evidence that Jesus had risen from the dead. Jesus doesn’t make an appearance – not to Mary or the women, not on the road to Emmaus or in the room where the disciples touched the wounds on his crucified body. All Mark’s account tells us is that a young man tells the three women Jesus is not in the tomb. And Mark’s account tells us that the three women were so terrified at what they saw and heard that they went away and said nothing because they were afraid. Mark’s Easter account provides us with little proof that this story is true. Instead, we are left with only a promise: “Jesus is going ahead of you to Galilee and is waiting for you, just as he told you.”
I think many of us are like Mr. Strobel, and we insist upon a “Case for Christ” – that everything must be proven before we can believe, before we can speak, before we can act. A promise seems to be very little, especially when we consider how untrustworthy promises are in our current times. We need proof, we want facts. Yet, what do we miss out on when we only insist on proof?
I remember an older gentleman who had come to me quite regularly to talk about the Bible and theology. This man was quite intelligent, well-read, and knowledgeable about Christianity. His father was a pastor, and while the man did not feel called to ministry himself, he was no less interested in Christianity. Our conversations were quite extensive – we talked about systematic theology, the meaning of various passages and books in the Bible, Christian ethics, and worship theology, to name a few. I will admit that the conversations challenged me because this man’s knowledge often exceeded my own. However, he would also talk to me about his struggles – trying to relate to his wife, his dissatisfaction with his work, and even questions about the church. At the end of these conversations, I would ask, “What do you think God is leading you to do? How do you think what you know about Jesus might help you?” He would always reply, “I don’t know, and to be honest, I’m too afraid of what might happen if I try something.”
The power of the Resurrection is not found in the certainty of facts. It is in the good news that “Jesus is risen, he has gone ahead of you and is waiting for you, just as he promised.” The power of the Resurrection is the promise that there is nothing Jesus hasn’t experienced before you, and there is nothing that Jesus hasn’t overcome – suffering, persecution, temptation, and even death. Promise, not information, moves us to faith and it is faith, not proof, that raises us out of our fear of the unknown, suffering, and death. Because of faith, we can speak, we can act, we can believe, and we can LIVE – because of the promise that Jesus lives.
For those facing illness and disease,
For those held captive by addiction or temptation,
For those who are lonely or isolated,
For those who long for meaning in their lives - have faith and live.
And for all of us, who feel hopeless and cynical in a world of injustice, violence, and death – have faith and live!
Christ is risen. He has gone ahead of you and is waiting for you. Alleluia! Amen.
Text: John 6:47-51
This sermon was preached as part of our second joint worship service with our neighboring Slovak Lutheran church, CZ ECAV Staré Mesto, during the season of Lent. We are grateful to their Pastors Erika Sokola and Anna Polcková, who have graciously invited us to worship with them and have been willing to work through language and church community differences to share these special moments together as brothers and sisters in Christ!
In the gospel of John, there are seven sayings of Jesus known as the "I Am" sayings. Jesus refers to Himself as the "light of the world," the "door to the sheep," the "true vine," and the "Good Shepherd." Jesus also refers to Himself as "resurrection and life" and "the way, the truth, and the life." Finally, in our Gospel reading this morning, Jesus refers to himself as “the bread of life." For those of us familiar with the Bible or Christian theology, the term "I Am" refers to the Exodus, where God’s name is "I Am Who I Am." Or for those of us who are less knowledgeable about the Bible or new to the faith, this passage can be a moment of inspiration, a beautiful expression of who the Jesus is. But maybe you are like me, asking, "What does the Jesus, as the "Bread of Life," have to do with my daily life?"
A few weeks ago, I was having coffee with a man I had not seen in a long time. He came to me for help eight years ago when I was serving as a chaplain. He experienced so much violence in his life, and this trauma caused him great suffering. So much in fact, that he tried to take his own life. I was able to help him heal by finding him a suitable therapist. When we met most recently, he talked about the many difficulties that he continues to face in everyday life. He noted that life often feels like too much of a struggle for him, and sometimes he wonders if he will ever be able to fully recover and live a normal life. I replied, "The fact that you are still here and are still willing to keep fighting shows who you are and what you believe in." He was silent for a moment, and then said, "yes, I guess that is reason enough to keep hoping."
The Apostle Paul writes, "Not only that, but we also boast of our sufferings, for we know that suffering leads to perseverance, perseverance to character, and character to hope." Paul is not saying that God causes suffering in our lives in order to inspire hope in them. On the contrary, it is a confession that God is with us in our daily struggles. We know that God is with us because of the Son of God, Jesus Christ. Jesus' suffering and perseverance are not only an expression of God's love, but also a sign that God IS love. Jesus is the living expression of a God who is loving. In our own lives, we are assured of this, even if it seems to us our struggles will overwhelm us. Trusting in this assurance is reason enough for hope. Such hope is like bread that nourishes not only our body, but also our heart, mind and spirit.
As people of faith, we encounter two realities daily. The first reality is suffering. There is much suffering in the world caused by corruption, hatred, discrimination and injustice. There is also a lot of personal suffering - alcoholism, anger, guilt, worthlessness, low self-esteem, and chronic diseases of body and mind. And then there is the ultimate suffering - our death. This first reality—the presence of suffering—can be overwhelming, and the idea that life is hopeless is therefore palpable and very real. But the second reality can give us hope: God always offers the world and each of us the gift of Jesus Christ. God did not leave us to live in suffering and isolation. God is with us because He loves us, and God gives us gifts to lift us up from our suffering, which will not last forever.
God gives us the gift of the church, of a community in which we suffer and endure life together, with God and with each other. Such a gift brings hope when we pray together. When we worship together. When we share the body and blood of Christ in bread and wine- together. In a world that gives us so many reasons to remain separated and isolated from one another, the gift of community brings us hope when people from all walks of life come together. And it can also bring us hope when two churches, like ours today, decide to worship - together.
May this gift of hope from the God of love nourish you – not only during Lent, but also in your daily life as you serve others who also need this gift of love that brings hope. Amen.
Text: Mark 8:31-38
When I was growing up on our family farm, I was very fascinated with ants. Ants, of course, are those tiny creatures who make little dirt hills and carry things from above ground to below ground. They would move in a row, each ant carrying something back to their underground home which was much larger than they were. I later learned in school that an ant can carry up to 50 times, and some ants up to 100 times their body weight. For a tiny creature that weighs about as much as a grain of rice, it can carry a paper clip. Now, that might not seem like much, but it would be the same as a human being carrying an elephant. So, ants can bear quite a burden!
“If anyone wants to become my followers, let them deny themselves, pick up their cross, and follow me.” Jesus’ words are very clear this morning. They are a call to discipleship, a call to follow Jesus. We are to bear our own crosses – our burdens, our sufferings, our guilt, our sins – and if we can do that well, we are considered good disciples. However, I wonder if we should not take Jesus’ words here so literally. Perhaps he is not asking us to bear our crosses, but rather Jesus is telling us that such a standard is impossible for us as human beings. Jesus is telling us it is impossible to fully deny ourselves, bear our crosses, and follow him. Jesus knows that only one person can bear the weight of such burdens, and that is Jesus himself.
Yet, I think many of us do not fully believe this. We are like Peter at the beginning of the story who rebukes Jesus for such a notion that he must bear our crosses. Instead, we try to be like ants. We’re not trying to carry actual elephants, but we certainly try to bear things beyond our physical, emotional, and spiritual abilities. We see this in our society today across the world – physical exhaustion, mental distress and illness, and unseen wounds to our conscience from cruelty and injustice. Yet these things will always exist – crosses will always exist for people to carry. So perhaps the real problem is not the existence of these things. The problem is our belief that we must bear such things in isolation, alone. In fact, in the United States, the Surgeon General, the head of the health ministry, has presented research and declared loneliness as an epidemic in the country. And God, since the beginning of time, has known that loneliness is not a good thing. “Then God said, ‘It is not good that man should be alone.” Just as God gave Adam a helper in Eve, God gives us the gift of Jesus Christ as the one who can bear all suffering, all crosses, and all sin and death. We do not have to bear our crosses on our own, and we do not have to suffer and even lose our lives needlessly in isolation and loneliness. Faith is knowing that it is impossible to bear our burdens alone. Faith is knowing Jesus comes alongside us to not only bear our burdens for us, but to also bear them with us. We are never alone.
Yet, even that good news can be hard for us to believe, and it can be hard to have faith when we don’t always see Jesus among us. This is why Jesus gives us gifts, visible signs that he is with us. One of those gifts is the sacrament of baptism. Another is the sacrament of Holy Communion, which we will celebrate together this morning. Jesus also gives us another gift, the gift of Christian community – the church. The church is the community of people from all walks of life who bear one another’s burdens with each other, loving and supporting each other, for no other reason than Jesus Christ connects us. Today we get to experience this gift in a special way – our sisters and brothers from the Velky Kostol have shared their gifts with us and are worshipping alongside us. Together, we are a powerful sign of what God can do. It is a powerful sign that we are never alone and that in faith, we do not have to live this life bearing our suffering and burdens alone.
For these gifts, and for the gift of the One who bears our burdens and is worthy of our faith, Jesus Christ, we can say thanks be to God. Amen.
Text: Mark 1:29-39
Every time I read this story in the gospel, I am reminded of the trip I took to the Holy Land many years ago. I was fortunate enough to make such a trip, which included visiting the town of Capernaum. It is a small village really. The archeological work has shown that the Synagogue was no more than 20, 30 steps from the houses people lived in. That revelation really changes the way we understand this story. For Jesus to heal Simon’s mother-in-law, and to have healed and cast out so many demons among the people - people heard the news very quickly. It would have been no trouble at all to walk 20, 30 steps to the house where Jesus was healing people and look through the door. What Jesus did - it became the news of the whole community. It became a community affair.
When I think of how life is like for us - and this is mainly for those of us in the United States - life is much more private. People live in their homes to be separated from others. It is not looked favorably to simply visit without an invitation. People also do not invite many people to their homes. And what happens in our homes is also a private matter - we think that in many ways, we can hide our suffering or our own afflictions from others. Yet, in my experience, as much as we try to keep such things private, people end up knowing anyway. Yet, they respect the right to privacy and do not get involved. This can be ok, but at times it is not.
This time of year, the beginning of February, always brings certain feelings for me. Both my father and my mother died in February, although in separate years. My dad’s passing, while it was sudden and created a hard time for our family, was easier. My dad was a good man, his life was celebrated. My mother however, struggled with alcohol most of her life and never got better. People in our town knew about her struggles, but no one reached out to help because they didn’t want to violate our privacy as a family. As I think back to that time, I don’t think they were bad people for not helping. They just didn’t how to help, and at the time asking someone about things like addiction was not acceptable.
I think the true power of Jesus’ healing and casting out demons isn’t simply the act itself. It is that Jesus made this healing and freeing people of their afflictions a community affair. Jesus performed these acts in the presence of the whole community for all to see. In doing this, he heals the whole community. He frees the whole community so that they can live together in wholeness. I wonder if Jesus would perform such things today - publicly addressing what we try to keep private. How could that change our communities today?
While we have made many advances in talking and raising awareness about mental health, trauma, and addiction, there is still quite a bit of stigma that causes us to keep it hidden; to keep it private. This is true in the Church as well. Just like the disciples who follow Jesus into the neighboring towns to heal and cast out demons, we too are called to follow Jesus to make people’s suffering a community affair. To not just talk about them, but to actually find ways to include people who are suffering from them in our communities and congregations. In doing so, something happens. People are not just healed, but we see and feel the presence of Jesus among us. And we see and feel how Jesus is healing and freeing our whole community to be closer to what the Kingdom of God is. It is for us to consider how we might follow Jesus in this way. Yet we do so, knowing that Jesus freely and graciously comes near to us in our suffering and affliction, just as he did in Capernaum so long ago. Amen.
Text: Mark 1:21-26
There is much debate on authority these days. Specifically, who has authority? We do not have to look much further than this past week’s gatherings in Slovakia, where people are protesting the use of authority by the majority party in Parliament. Also this past week, the International Court ruled that the Israeli government’s actions in Israel-Palestine are unjust and must stop. At the same time, the Israeli government has asserted that the International Court does not have the authority to make or enforce such a ruling. The question of who has authority covers just about every aspect of our world - political institutions, businesses, views on parenting and social issues. The question of who has authority is also debated within the Church as well. Does the Church have authority, especially with the decline of worship attendance and people affiliating with a particular religion? How does the Church reclaim its authority in the world, and how does the Church convince the world that God is in authority still?
Does God and the Church have authority?
As we consider our gospel text this morning, this is NOT the question that is being asked. The crowds who witness Jesus casting out the man’s unclean spirit ask, “What kind of teaching is this - and with authority?!” The question we should ask, based on this text is “What is God’s authority like? What kind of authority is it?” Today’s story asks us to consider that God’s authority comes in the form of Jesus coming near to a man with an unclean spirit and healing him. This is a shocking act of authority, because in Jesus’ day people who were unclean were banished to remain outside the community until they could prove to a priest that they were clean. Only then could they rejoin the community. Jesus instead comes near to the man, when no other person would dare do so. Jesus heals the man, restoring not just his spirit, but allowing him to rejoin the community. What kind of authority is God’s? Jesus’ actions tell us quite plainly, it is an authority rooted in LOVE. It is an authority to LOVE.
This raises another question: As followers of Jesus and as the Church, what kind of authority do we have?
This past week, I taught a class on how to intervene if someone is considering suicide. The goal of the course is to help people be aware of the signs of suicide, and to give them the skills to intervene and get the person to a safe place. For two days, the participants dedicated their time and energy to this topic. One of the participants came up to me after the training and asked, “Chaplain, I feel so exhausted after these past two days…is this normal?” I replied that it was - focusing on such a serious topic as suicide demands much of our minds, bodies, and spirits. He then said, “That makes sense. At the same time, I feel so fulfilled, because now I have the confidence of knowing I can help someone who is struggling. I can save their life.”
Later in the week, I met with a man who I had helped in 2016. He served in the United States military, and after repeated experiences to the horrors of war, he developed a severe case of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. It was good to meet with him, because over the years, I wondered very much if he was healing and if he had the strength to stay alive. I am happy to report that he is healing. However, he will never be fully healed. He still has moments where his trauma torments him. I asked him what helps him thorugh those moments. He replied, “I’ve finally found a good therapist and mental health care that has been effective. I also pray a lot. One of my best prayers is to pray Psalm 46 over and over: Be still and know that I am God.”
I share these stories to highlight that the Church needs to talk more about mental health and issues like suicide. Mental health is not a sin, and it is not some curse a person bears as a punishment for their sin. It is a form of suffering, an affliction. Despite so many advances in mental health care, there is still much stigma in our society about mental illness and suicide. People with such struggles need someone to come near when society casts them away. They need compassion instead of condemnation. They need community rather than isolation. They need to know that like the man in the story, Jesus exercises such loving authority for their sake. What does it mean for those who struggle with their mental health and suicide to be loved? As followers of Christ and the Church, what is our role to speak of such things? What is our role in healing such people?
As we consider these questions this week, let us rejoice in the good news that in Christ, God comes near to us in our sufferings and afflictions and loves us. Let us rejoice in the good news that in Christ, we as the Church are gifted with the enduring authority to LOVE. Amen.
Texts: Jonah 3:1-5, 10; 1 Corinthians 7:29-31; Mark 1:14-20
The sun was shining this weekend, and as many of you know, that can be a rare thing this time of year with the rain and darkness. So my wife Kelly and I decided to take advantage and go for a long walk on Saturday. During our walk, we came across some evangelists who were handing out information on the gospel and encouraging people to think about their salvation. You may have seen these people out in the city yourself. It is an interesting way to share the gospel, and interesting that they feel God has called them in this way. I will admit, that this way is not for me. I am not so sure if God called or summoned me to share the gospel or follow Jesus by standing on a street corner that I would respond.
We have read three texts this morning, and each one talks about the importance of responding to God’s summons to share the good news with other people. Jonah is called to share the good news with the people of Ninevah. 1 Corinthians tells us to not delay in answering God’s summons, and we should have a sense of urgency about it. Our gospel text from Marks tells the story of Jesus calling his first disciples, who rather dramatically leave their whole way of life - their jobs, their family - to follow Jesus without hesitation. I think this raises a few questions for us this morning. What is so important about God’s summons to share the good news? Why is there an urgency in sharing it and following Jesus? And, what exactly is this “good news” that God and Jesus call us to share and believe in?
A few years ago, there was a pastor who started a call with a new congregation. The congregation was struggling, and there were lots of opinions on how to energize the congregation. The new pastor shared their ideas with the congregation and this caused disagreement with a couple who were quite vocal about their own opinion of what the church should do. This disagreement turned into conflict: personal attacks were made, things were said that shouldn’t have been said, and despite mediation from the Bishop, they could not resolve the conflict. The couple swore they would never return to the church. The pastor, while not voicing it, was rather glad they had decided so. They did not speak to each other for months.
Then, on Christmas Eve, the pastor got a phone call from a member of the congregation. The couple he had not spoken to had gotten in a car accident. While their injuries were not serious, they were confined to rest at home and would not be able to attend Christmas Eve services at any church. The pastor was faced with a dilemma. On one hand, he felt he was under no obligation to reach out to the couple. The pastor admitted to themselves that they were hurt by the insults and accusations the couple had made towards them. But, the pastor felt something was summoning him to go to them. So the pastor drove to their home and knocked on the door. The husband answered, and surprisingly, he invited the pastor in. Little was said about the conflict, but the pastor read the Christmas story with them, shared communion with them, wished them Merry Christmas, and departed to lead Christmas Eve service at the congregation.
Jesus summons us to repent, and believe in the good news. The good news is this: we are always offered the opportunity to turn away from our sinful ways and turn back to God, to God’s grace, love, and forgiveness. And this good news is for people - all people. As believers in this good news, we are summoned to share it with people, to become fishers of people. Maybe we are like Jonah and are reluctant to do so. Yet, when we consider the ways of life today and the ways of the world that tell us to value things over people, to value our own time, our own beliefs and opinions, and our possessions, perhaps this summons to share the good news with people is not just important, but vital to our salvation now. The Kingdom of God has come near. It is here now, and it is for people, now! It is for people who are hurting, who are treated with little dignity, and who urgently need to know their lives have value. And so it is urgent for us to answer God’s summons to share this good news. And it is for this summons to follow Jesus and for the good news we can say thanks be to God. Amen.
Texts Referenced:
1 Samuel 3:1-10
1 Corinthians 6:12-20
John 1:43-51
There is a story about a farmer who had a horse. One day, his horse got out of his pen and ran away into the wild. His neighbors, hearing the news came over to his house and said, “We heard your horse ran away. What bad news!” The farmer looked at them and said, “Good or bad, it’s hard to say.” A few days later, the farmer went out to do his morning chores and found that his horse had returned to the barn and there were six new wild horses as well! Hearing about the farmer’s fortune, his neighbors came over. “We heard about your good fortune! Six new horses! What good news!” The farmer looked at them and said, “Good or bad, it’s hard to say.” The farmer now had to train the new horses and so he and his son set themselves to the task. One day, while the farmer’s son was riding one of the wild horses, it bucked him off and broke his leg quite badly. The doctor said it would take a long time to heal. A few moments later, the neighbors once again came over. “We heard about your son’s leg. How unfortunate! This is bad news, yes?” The farmer again looked at his neighbors and shrugged, “Good or bad, it’s hard to say.” A few weeks later, some men in military uniforms arrived at the farmer’s house. The country was going to war, and they were conscripting young men into the army to fight. “Your son is of the right age,” said the officials, “We need to see him.” The farmer called his son to come out of the house, and his son appeared, on crutches and his leg in a splint. The officials took one look at him and said, “Thank you for your time sir, we will not be asking for your son.” And they left. A few hours later, the farmer’s neighbors once again came over. “We heard your son was spared from fighting. This is good news!” The farmer shrugged his shoulders and once again said, “Good or bad, it’s hard to say.”
Is it a good or bad thing to be called by God? Good or bad, perhaps hard to say. Yet our two stories about calling – Samuel by God and Nathaniel by Jesus as one of his 12 disciples – do not ask this question. Instead, these two stories raise two other questions: What type of person is called by God? What does one need to do to follow God’s calling?
In our stories today, Samuel is but a small boy, no older than 12 years. The only thing we are told about Nathaniel is that he is an Israelite. We are not told if either possesses a keen intellect for theology or Biblical studies, or an exceptional demonstration of faith. Samuel and Nathaniel are not powerful, well-known people. Who is called by God? According to these stories, it does not require one to have any special qualifications or to be a person of status. It is not only pastors, priests, politicians, or rulers that are called by God. God calls everyday people and the most unlikely of people. Those considered ordinary by the world. God calls people like you and me.
What must one do to follow God’s calling? There is a lot of talk on the “right” way to follow God. One must speak and act in a definite way. They must believe the right things. They must look a particular way, and be of a certain race, ethnicity, or gender. Unfortunately, such talk has infected the Church and how the Bible is interpreted. For example, the use of the word “prostitute” in our reading from 1 Corinthians has led some to believe that all women can never have a call in the Church. Today’s stories suggest a different approach to following God. We are to simply use our senses. We are to listen like Samuel. We are to “come and see” like Nathaniel.
Earlier this week, Kelly welcomed two new young people from the United States to complete their year of service in Eastern Hungary. They had previously started their year in Jerusalem/West Bank but had to end their time early when war broke out in Israel-Palestine this fall. However, when offered the chance to continue their year of service, they said yes. While they are quite remarkable for having the courage to continue their year of service in a second country, they are quite ordinary, everyday people otherwise. As Kelly and I got to know them and heard their reasons for coming to Hungary, this was clear. Both bear the image and likeness of God to the places they’ll serve. And where they go, they are seeking to see the image and likeness of God in those they meet.
You are called by God to live out God’s calling for you. You are called to bear the image and likeness of God in the places you go and seek the image and likeness of God in those you meet. And while it’s not always clear whether it’s a good or bad thing to be called by God, we can give thanks that God calls such people as you and I, and that we can respond to that call by simply hearing and seeing - experiencing the presence of God and Christ in the places we go and the people we meet. Amen!
Text: Mark 1:4-11
I have a question for you this morning: Why do we baptize people?
I’ve asked this question many times over the years as a pastor. The answers I get vary. For some, it’s an assurance of eternal life or heaven – the divine insurance policy. For others, it’s an initiation rite – you’re symbolically baptized into the body of Christ after accepting him as your Lord and Savior. Others, it’s a cleansing of sin that raises us up to a new identity in Jesus. That’s the classical Lutheran understanding – our sinful selves are put to death and are raised up by God to new life in Jesus.
Now, for some, these answers raise more questions:
Should we only baptize infants, adults, or both?
What do you have to do before being baptized? Accept Jesus? Confess your sins? Take a class with the pastor?
What happens to us if we’re NOT baptized? And what about children who die before they are baptized, what happens to them?
Now, these are not easy questions to answer, nor are the answers simple. Yet, people give such answers, and those answers can be rather traumatizing. Sadly, many theological reasons for baptism have caused great harm to people, enough to make them turn away from faith and the church. In fact, a number of years ago I came across a website that offered people who felt they were harmed by the church a chance to get “unbaptized.” There was an actual ceremony with a liturgy, they asked the person if they wanted to undo their baptism, and if they said yes, the person leading the ceremony would “unbaptize” the person by turning on a blow dryer and ceremoniously dry their heads. People would applaud at the end, and the unbaptized even got a certificate as proof of the event.
Now maybe this sounds ridiculous to you. However, the Church has done a lot of harm to people in its history, and perhaps, you’ve experienced this too.
But with all this in mind, I bring you back to my original question: Why do we baptize people?
The story of Jesus’ baptism in Mark is the shortest of all the gospels. It is straight to the point: Jesus is baptized by John, the heavens are torn apart, and the holy spirit descends on Jesus and God’s voice says, “You are my Son, the beloved, with you I am well pleased.” What I find interesting in Mark’s version is that it suggests people did not witness anything special about Jesus’ baptism – there is no mention that others saw and heard what Jesus did when he came up out of the water. Only Jesus witnessed the heavens opening and heard the voice of God. Missing also are verses that suggest Jesus’ was a public event and that it legitimized his authority over John the Baptists. Instead, Jesus’ baptism was a very personal event in which God affirmed that Jesus was loved and pleasing to God, and God’s special Son.
Why do we baptize people? I think so often, the Church spends a little too much time on people’s sin – pointing out the faults and failings of others while minimizing our own. What I am not saying is that we should avoid talk of sin and the need for repentance and confession completely – that is an important thing. However, when it becomes the ONLY thing we talk about, it can be harmful, traumatizing, and it is no wonder that the pews of churches seem emptier these days. Jesus’ baptism, as told by Mark, reminds us of the most essential part of the good news of God in Jesus Christ: God deeply and personally loves us as God’s own. We are pleasing to God, just as we are, and not a more perfect, higher achieving version of ourselves. This is why we baptize people, and it is why Luther said we should remember our baptisms daily – because we can never hear this personal message of God’s love and acceptance enough.
There is a catch to this: while the blessing of baptism is personal, it does not mean that it is private – or, only for us. As I mentioned before, there are people – hurt by the church in the past, marginalized by the church in the present, and sadly, are told they are eternally excluded from God’s saving love by the church for all time. May our hearts be moved by the baptism we share with Jesus Christ – and may we be moved to share the good news of baptism – as the church - in the ways we speak, act, and live. Amen.
Text: John 1:6-8, 19-28
In the United States, our gymnáziums – we call them high schools – have sports teams. The teams compete for their school against other schools. One of those sports is cross-country running. It is a form of distance running, usually 5 kilometers, that are run on trails or across fields rather than on a track. In one of our nearby towns, there was a girl, Julie, who was quite fast and a good runner. From her first year on the team, she was already winning a lot of races. People began to talk that Julie might not just be good, but great. She could win the top championship not just once, but multiple times, because she was so young.
For the first three years of Julie’s competing, she indeed was the best runner on the team and one of the best in the state. Going into her final year, people were excited. However, there was another girl, Johanna, who started her first year and who also was quite fast. She had a lot of potential and she started to be Julie and many of the other top runners in the state. Suddenly, the talk about success shifted to Johanna and Julie wasn’t as recognized. And even though the team was doing quite well, it was all very difficult for Julie to accept. She had a hard time accepting her role as the second-best runner on the team. Even more tragically, she lost the joy she had for running.
Today, it seems that the expectation is that everyone needs to achieve something great with their lives and that our lives won’t have meaning if we don’t. Actors, athletes, musicians, politicians, and it even includes those who do good for the world. We point to people like Mother Theresa, Ghandi, Martin Luther King Jr., Nelson Mandela, and others as the standard we need to achieve. Yet, this expectation creates a challenge for us: working for justice and loving all people like Jesus did seems pretty impossible. For ordinary people like you and I, the world’s problems are too big to solve, and it’s unrealistic to think we can fully love and achieve unity with all people. For ordinary people like you and I, it doesn’t just sound impossible, it sounds like a rather joyless life, and more of an obligation.
And that’s why focusing on John the Baptizer seems like a rather strange choice on this third Sunday of Advent and its theme of joy. John was not Jesus. John was not the savior of the world. John wasn’t Elijah. In fact, John wasn’t even a prophet. He was just an ordinary person. John wasn’t the good news. Yet, John has something valuable to teach us about what the good news means for our lives.
“There was a man sent from God whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light.”
John teaches us that life is not about achieving greatness and that is where our life’s meaning comes from. Instead, our lives have meaning because it is through ordinary people that God proclaims the story and message of salvation and light. We each have a role to play to bear witness to the Light that is Jesus Christ. It is as simple as telling others what Christ has done for us in our moments of struggle and darkness, or how God brought hope and healing to our lives. It is as simple as sharing the light of Christ with those who are going through the same tough times. It can be as simple as singing a song in worship this morning like our praise band or volunteering to read the lessons or collect the offering. We just have to be willing to share.
John also teaches us that such an ordinary life can actually bring us great joy. It can bring us the kind of joy that came at Christmas in a rather ordinary way – a teenage girl, giving birth to a baby in a humble manger….a baby who many had waited for and brought God’s hope, peace, love, and joy into the world. And so, as we enter into this last week and prepare ourselves to celebrate this good news in worship next weekend, may we find great joy in bearing witness to this good news, and joy in that our lives have meaning because of it! Amen.
Text: Mark 13:24-37
Well, we have another gospel reading about Christ’s second return and God’s final judgment. However, it’s likely many of you don’t remember that far back, so perhaps a review would be helpful. Three weeks ago, we heard the parable of the ten bridesmaids. Five were wise and five were foolish. The five wise ones were commended and let into the wedding banquet. The five foolish ones, when they showed up late were shut out by the groom. The next week, we heard the parable of the talents, where the master gave three slaves money. Two of them invested and grew the master’s money and were commended for it. The third, scared of the master, buried the money in the ground and then simply gave it back to the master. He was condemned and we’re told was “cast into the outer darkness.” Last week, we heard that at the final judgment we’ll be separated into sheep and goats. Sheep are the ones who recognize Jesus in the poor, the suffering, and outcasts and cares for them. They are considered righteous for doing so. The sheep are those who don’t and are shunned. All three readings, just like today’s reading, tell us that a final judgment is coming and Christ will return, but we don’t know when. So we should keep awake and alert….and wait.
Today marks the first Sunday of Advent. The Advent season is a time of waiting. We remember that God’s people waited with hope for the birth of baby Jesus, their long-awaited Messiah and savior. Advent is also a time in which the early Christians also focused on Jesus’ second coming. They took Jesus’ parables and teachings to heart. They needed to be ready and prepared as they waited, for they believed Jesus could come back at any time. Christians have been believing this and practicing Advent in this way for centuries now.
And here we are today, waiting. Or are we growing tired of waiting? It would seem the world is growing weary of waiting for Christ to return and restore the world as it should be.
We grow weary at waiting for war to end as the number of refugees and deaths grow each day.
We grow weary of waiting for relief from inflation.
We grow weary of waiting for the constant division between nations, their leaders, and people to go away.
Or, perhaps our weariness is more personal:
We grow weary waiting for the frantic pace of our lives to slow down.
We grow weary of waiting as our lives hang in the balance because of circumstances we have little to no control over.
We grow weary of waiting to feel hopeful again. Instead, we display optimism so people won’t feel like we’re a burden to them.
It has been over 2,000 years since Christ departed this earth for the first time. And here we are – still waiting…..and waiting…..and waiting. Will Christ ever return? Perhaps you are like me and on a typical day you don’t give this question much thought. Or, on other days, perhaps you don’t hold much hope that Jesus is actually going to return as promised. Being told that to have hope as we begin Advent seems a bit ridiculous.
However, if we examine today’s reading closer, the message isn’t that we need to hope in God. We are told this simple truth: Just as surely as a fig tree will bloom in spring, Jesus will return. Jesus will return when it seems like everything happening in the world isn’t worth returning to. Jesus will return when it seems like we’re not worth returning to. The message of hope on this first Sunday of Advent is about God’s hope, not ours. Jesus still has hope in the world. Jesus still has hope in me…..and in you. We may not know the day or the hour. Events in the world and in our lives will come and pass. But God continues to hope in all of us. And that good news will never pass away.
So it is our role to simply wait. But this brings me to another important point in the reading: we don’t wait alone. The early Christians waited together – they waited as the Church. They prayed together. They worshipped together. They shared one another’s burdens and doubts….together. This wasn’t such a strange concept in the time of the Early Church, but perhaps in our modern society, it is. We are more isolated today than ever before. Technology and many of the conveniences of life remove the need for us to rely on anyone. Our moral beliefs as a world society are focused on self-sufficiency – we are not supposed to be a burden on society or others. But from the beginning of time – and Scripture tells us this – “It is not good for humans to be alone.” We need each other.
During this Advent, let us wait. Let us wait together. Let us wait together, knowing and trusting that God in Christ still hopes in this world and all of us. For that, we can say thanks be to God. Amen.
Text: Matthew 25:31-46
In Protestant Churches across Slovakia and Europe today, they observe the Day of Eternity. It marks the last day of the Church year, and they commemorate the faithful who have departed this world and who inspire us to look for God’s eternity in the present and the future. This is quite different from the ELCA, the Lutheran church in the United States. They celebrate Christ the King, or the Reign of Christ today. I think this might be a better theme to explore this morning, especially considering recent news in Slovakia, where Secretary of State Stefan Kuffa declared he would seek to have Jesus Christ elected as King of Slovakia. This declaration has been met with mixed reactions, but it raises the question: what kind of king is Jesus EXACTLY?
To explore this question, I want to talk to you about goats.
Goats are independent, self-sufficient, and practical animals. They produce milk which can be used for food or making soap. Goats also eat just about anything, making them excellent for controlling weeds and clearing areas of land. Due to their stubborn nature, goats have also been known to stand their ground against predators, making them quite an effective way to defend other animals. Make no mistake, goats are quite useful animals. So, when I read in our gospel text today that Jesus declares the goats as the detestable ones, I feel as if Jesus is being unfair. One would think that being compared to a goat would be a good thing. It is a good thing to be considered independent and self-sufficient. It is a good thing to be educated, to work hard, to be disciplined in your life, and to not be a drain and burden on others. When Jesus compares the righteous to sheep – who are rather helpless, totally rely on others to care for them, and are in many ways quite useless, it seems like an insult. The gospel text today would seem to suggest that Jesus is not a very useful king for those of us who consider ourselves more like goats than sheep.
David Brooks is an American journalist and author. In his most recent work, “How to Know a Person,” Brooks observes that much of human life today is overly focused on being useful and adopting attitudes that serve our usefulness. Recognition, accumulating wealth, and pursuing our own interests are more important than compassion and taking time to genuinely understand others, especially those people different from us. Brooks believes this obsession with usefulness has left people feeling isolated, depressed, angry, and hostile towards others and themselves. What Brooks finds more troubling is this obsession with usefulness leaves people unseen. Showing vulnerability is considered a weakness that can be exploited. Those who are different from the majority are labeled as outcasts in society. It is better to be unseen than to be who you truly are.
“Truly I tell you, just as you did it to the least of these who are mine, you did it to me.”
As many of you know from Scripture, Jesus stands out because he values things that so often the world does not. Jesus repeatedly told all that his reign was not a piece of land or a new form of government. Jesus is a king of compassion, humility, and love. His reign is over the human heart. Scripture tells us time and time again that Jesus tends to exalt the poor, the lame, the sick; tax collectors, women, and sinners. Jesus is the king who sees those who are unseen, and in a world ruled by the notion that only the useful are worth seeing, Jesus transforms our hearts so that we might see all people, and even ourselves, as children of God.
This all may seem overwhelming to take in this morning. To reconcile our own personal battles with self-worth and to solve the injustices of human suffering in this world is a rather lengthy and difficult task. For this morning, perhaps it is enough to simply invite Christ, this rather impractical and seemingly unless king, to reign in our hearts. It is enough to invite Christ, the One who sees the unseen in his infinite grace, the One who sees us….and calls us to do the same. Amen.
I have a question for you this morning: “What if the first two servants had lots all the master’s money?”
When I had read this parable in the past, I assumed that the servants who invested the master’s money did so without any risk. In other words, doubling the money the master had given them was guaranteed. It is this assumption that helps us make sense of why the master dealt so harshly with the third servant. He didn’t bother to invest the money given to him, and he was cast into the outer darkness, deemed to be worthless. However, I wonder, would the master have been so generous with the other two slaves if they had invested his money and lost all of it, or at least a substantial portion of it? Or, would he have punished them, just like he had the third servant?
This parable tells us that the master is a harsh man, and one that is primarily concerned with building wealth. So if the two servants had lost his money, I think the answer to my question would be that the master would have punished them for such a foolish and poor economic practice. Instead, perhaps, he would have dealt with the third servant more favorably. His choice, to “play it safe” rather than take a chance by investing in a volatile market would seem to be a more sensible and responsible one. A good economic practice to preserve the master’s money and perhaps more to our liking, one that would result in a more favorable and gracious response.
But this parable isn’t about economic practices. It’s about faith. Jesus tells this parable as a response to the question, “How do we live faithfully as we wait for Jesus’ return? Or if you’re a bit skeptical of that since people have been waiting for over 2,000 years, how do we live faithfully in our present age?”
I love sports. I loved playing them growing up, I loved competing in them when I was in university, and now finished as a competitor, I love coaching them. There is something exhilarating watching the strategy, the tactics, and also the dedication that goes into playing sports at a high level, whether it is an individual sport like wrestling or running, or a team sport like hockey or futball (soccer, for us American types). Winning is not an accident, nor is it luck. Those who tend to work the hardest at their craft, and who invest the most time into it, tend to be most successful. But there is another element to sports that many of us don’t understand. In fact, it’s something that I only learned through the failures of my own athletic endeavors and by watching more successful athletes. I’ve learned that no matter how skilled a team or athlete is or how much time and effort they’ve invested in developing their skills or physical conditioning, the best teams and athletes take risks. Big ones, in fact. The outcomes don’t always turn out the way the athlete or team hopes. For every risky play that turns out in triumph, there is an equal amount that results in heartbreak. Yet while the outcome is uncertain, the best athletes and teams continue to take risks in pursuit of something greater. You could even say…..those risks are an act of faith.
What is faith? And what type of faith are we to have as we wait for Jesus’ return, in this present age? The parable today tells us that to have faith is to take risks. That is why the first two servants are commended and the third is punished. We are to take risks – but not in hopes of receiving some great success or reward. We take risks in our faith because it reflects the risk of faith Jesus Christ took in his life, death, and resurrection – to embrace and love a world in hopes that it would love him back. Jesus took this risk, not so much out of obedience to God the Father, but instead because that is exactly what love is – to take a risk. Love is an act of faith. To love as Jesus has loved us….perhaps that is the most daring risk and purist example of faith we can ever encounter.
As followers of Jesus, what would it mean to have such a faith? Is Christ simply something that stays within the confines of this church, or the confines of our personal beliefs and opinions? Or, do we risk our very security, comfort, and at times our very selves in the name of Christ and Christ’s love? What would such faith look like, and what would such faith mean to a world that seems to only invest in what’s economically, politically, or personally profitable? I cannot answer those questions for you – and it would be irresponsible of me as a pastor to impose an answer on you. However, I can say this: let us give thanks for the risk of faith God took for each and every one of us and all people, in Jesus Christ, our savior and our lord. Amen.
Sunday, 12 November, 2023
Gospel Text: Matthew 25:1-13
I find today’s parable troubling. Why do the wise bridesmaids and groom respond so harshly towards the foolish ones? Even if they had no oil to spare, why do the wise bridesmaids seem completely unsympathetic to the foolish ones’ situation? They respond, “No! Go find your own!” And the groom’s response is even worse. He not only prohibits the foolish from entering the banquet, but he seems to deny their existence – “Truly, I don’t even know you.” If we interpret the parable to mean that wise bridesmaids are faithful Christians and the groom is Jesus, then this vision of the Kingdom of Heaven is a harsh one. Today’s parable is a warning: “Get your act together, or you’ll be left out of Heaven.”
That interpretation doesn’t seem to match what we know about Jesus. Jesus - the compassionate one, befriending sinners and dining with them, who heals the sick, finds the lost, and seems to favor the totally unprepared and unfaithful. We know this Jesus, through his death and resurrection, proclaiming to the world that the Kingdom of God is a free, unmerited gift, rooted in God’s abundant grace. It would seem, considering what we know about Jesus, it should be the other way around: the foolish make it into the Kingdom of Heaven, and the wise instead find themselves locked out of the banquet.
Maybe this all seems confusing this morning. Resolving what the parable tells us about who Jesus is might take more time than I have for this sermon. However, I want to draw you attention elsewhere in the parable: “And at midnight, there was a shout, ‘Look! Here is the bride’s groom; come out and meet him!’” This message is not simply, “Jesus can be found in the places we least expect him.” It is instead a proclamation Jesus appears in ordinary places, places of humility, rather than in grand displays of holiness and piety. In fact, the parable’s proclamation is like what Martin Luther described in his theology of the cross. God is found in the ordinary, and God is found particularly in the dark places of life. God is found in moments of suffering and in the lives of those who suffer. Jesus comes to us in those things, people, and places that we’d rather not talk about and would rather not gaze upon. One of those things is the reality of suicide.
This past week, I spent two days teaching a workshop that gives people the skills and ability to intervene when they discover someone is contemplating suicide and taking their own life. I have taught this workshop many times, and what I have observed is suicide is one of those “dark things” that we as humans have a difficult time talking about. It is hard to talk about the fact there are people who experience difficulties in life, so difficult that they would take their own life. Sadly, there is a myth that places a moral judgment on suicide as an unforgivable sin. More tragically, the Church has been guilty at times for perpetuating this myth. This myth causes people to hide their true feelings and the fact that they are suffering and are reaching out for help. The training teaches people to be aware of this fact, to be ready to see the very subtle signs that people may be thinking about suicide, and to be ready to help them through that moment and connect them to the resources they need.
While the training does give people more confidence in intervening when they think someone is struggling with suicidal thoughts, there is a deeper transformation. Those who attend the training become more willing to draw near to someone experiencing a dark moment. They have a deeper empathy for the person’s suffering and struggle to stay alive. In that transformation, I believe, the Jesus of the Cross is drawing near in that moment and not just to be with them in suffering but to raise up their humanity in a way that brings life, light, and hope.
This parable doesn’t explain who Jesus is. It is also not about commending the wise and condemning those who might be foolish. It is a parable that teaches us that Jesus comes to us in dark places and in moments of suffering. Jesus comes to us…..in that person we tend to ignore on the streets, begging for our spare change….in the homeless and hungry as the weather turns colder…..in the immigrant, refugee, and foreigner we’re told to fear….and in those who struggle with their mental and emotional health, even to the point of suicide.
As we ready ourselves, longing to see Christ in our midst, may our lamps be filled with the oil of compassion, mercy, humility, and love. Such oil fuels divine light in the dark places and on those who suffer….so that we and all people may clearly see the One who has come, is continually coming, and will in fullness come again: Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
The weekend of July 13-15, a group from our community did a little tour of Slovakia, visiting the articular churches in Hronsek, Kežmarok, Istebné, Lestiny and Svätý Kríž, and the Orava castle. Below you can find some pictures from the trip.
The Articular Churches are stunning examples of the Slovak tradition. Forced to build places of worship under harsh articles (Articular Church), these Slovak Lutherans built masterpieces which continue to stand for resilience and love of the Gospel.
The articles imposed on the Lutheran Church from the 17th century included:
- the church must be built in a year
- the church must only use wood (so as not to have longevity)---this includes nails! The altars are painted to look like marble, but in fact everything, even the chandeliers are made of wood and there are not any nails!
- the church must be built outside the city walls and away from main streets
- no bell towers or any resemblance of a church on the outside
- no more than two churches per specified region.
This book was made by Intern Pastor Emily Stelling February 2018. It was given for personal study to the Fourth-Year scholars at The Evangelical Lyceum, and is available after Sunday services and in digital format in this post.
Lent is a 40-day season in the church’s liturgical calendar that leads up to Holy Week—a week that follows Jesus Christ into the city of Jerusalem on Palm Sunday; observes him washing the disciple’s feet and instituting the new covenant in his Last Supper (this is known as Maundy Thursday); worships Christ as he is tortured, crucified and buried on Good Friday; and witnesses the Son of God rising victorious on the Third Day launching an even longer period of 50 days to celebrate Easter! Starting with the solemn service on Ash Wednesday, we privately, and yet publically in the company of the saints, repent. Repentance is a change of heart. It is about reflecting on your relationship with God and recognizing your desperate need of God’s grace and mercy. But it is not all doom and gloom for repentance is a joyful response to the grace of God! We continue to come together more often than usual (Sundays and Wednesdays, formally) to worship, pray, study, and meditate on those things that distance ourselves from God.
There are many Lenten devotionals available online or in book stores but this particular Lenten devotional is designed to give a general mediation as well as gentle guidance over the course of each week in Lent as compared to every day in Lent. Having a daily subscription to something may seem daunting and unrealistic. Hopefully, this will give you more grace to reflect over the course of a week or perhaps just one hour that week. Your devotion to God is yours and yours alone. So, make use of this devotional how you will! But the hope is that something in these pages will spur you to see and assess your relationship with God.
The booklet is available for download here.
Intern Pastor Emily Steling created this prayer book in November 2017, to be an aide to guide your prayers during the worship services of the Advent season.
Advent is the first season of the church calendar year. It is (typically) four Sundays leading up to the birth of Jesus Christ the Messiah (AKA Christmas). Each Sunday there is a different theme, symbolized by the candles on the Advent wreath. The themes are: Hope, Peace, Joy, and Love. Since it is getting darker sooner, Christians around the world proclaim that Christ, as the light of the world, will come soon to crush the darkness and be a light to all the nations! Advent is a time to prepare ourselves (mind, body, spirit) for the birth of the promised Savior.
The book is available for download here. Feel free to use it as well for your personal devotions at home.
It was great to see so many BIC-ers at the Fall Retreat this weekend. We were blessed with good weather, despite a storm being forecast, and are now back in Bratislava, smelling of wood-smoke and feeling relaxed, challenged and reinvigorated.
Thanks to Pastor Derek for leading the Saturday programme and Intern Pastor Sharayah for leading our Communion Service on Sunday. Keynotes were learning to see with the eyes of our hearts, and remembering to take the log out of our own eye before trying to remove a speck from someone else's.
We also learned, through many conversations and activities such as the St George Quiz and treasure hunt, Anna's craft project, the campfire, eating together, worshipping and wine tasting, more about how we fit together as a faith community, supporting one another and reaching out to those outside.
See the pictures below for a taste of our weekend.
Learning how we fit together as a faith community
Dining at the Agape Centre, Svaty Jur
Campfire songs
The boy is good!
Hanging out
Sunday morning Worship
Worship leaders
Sometimes it's OK to just bounce...
Last gathering before the summer break! BIC students and young adults meet for lunch, prayer, encouragement and sharing on the first Sunday of each month.
Sunday 3rd July at Philip and Rachel's apartment in Old Town.
Today we prayed for each other as we went our separate ways - some back to their home countries, others on to new adventures.
Ice cream time!
It is more fun to talk with someone who doesn't use long, difficult words but rather short, easy words like "What about lunch?
A.A.Milne