Today’s text from Luke 6:17-26 finds Jesus early in his ministry. Christ’s teaching and preaching had begun. The sick came to him, hoping for relief. High fevers were cooled, withered arms outstretched. The lame walked. The blind saw.

Jesus was, without a doubt, the talk of the towns he travelled to.

The twelve disciples had recently been invited to follow Jesus. Their acceptance of Christ’s call was a fork in the road. It required they leave everything they had and knew behind. They embarked on the journey without food, without money. Instead, they relied solely on God’s provision. It was a provision, they would soon learn, that manifested itself, again and again, through the kindness of strangers.

Jesus then came down the mountain, the disciples by his side. A great multitude gathered from all around.

The people came to listen.
The people came to be made well.

It was a gathering of those without.
It was a gathering of those in need.

All who tried to touch Jesus did.
Power came out of him.
All who gathered were made whole.

Their needs, in real time, were met.

Blessings
Healings now complete, Jesus turned to the assembly to speak:

Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the Kingdom.
Blessed are you who are hungry, for you will be filled.
Blessed are you who weep, for you will laugh.
Blessed are you when people hate and exclude you,
for your reward is great in heaven.

This is the Jesus we know.
This is the Jesus we love.

It is the Jesus ever present with us.
It is the Jesus that always has our back.

It is human nature for us to want to find the blessings for ourselves within this text. And why not? Feeling blessed makes us feel loved, supported, part of something bigger than us.

I’d suggest each of us can find ourselves in these blessings somewhere along the way.

For me it was graduate school, in the Fall of 1998, at Cleveland State in Ohio. That year I was downright broke. My apartment was a 220 square feet efficiency housed in the downtown YMCA. My car was a sixteen-year-old clunker 1982 Subaru; Blue Book value: $400. My diet consisted of ramen noodles, which, when they went on sale were 10 for $1, and packages of 25 cent generic mac & cheese. If I had a little extra, I would splurge on a box of cereal.

I look back on that year now fondly. I was blessed with a roof over my head that didn’t leak. I was blessed with government student loans, making so much more, career wise, possible. I was blessed to be a Teaching Assistant, and had a local internship, both that paid me to learn. I was blessed with a girlfriend who, when money was really low, would mail me a care package from Flagstaff Arizona complete with a check to see me through. I’d later marry that girlfriend. Which was another blessing to be sure.

At the time Christianity wasn’t on my radar. I attended no church, had no ponderings about God. But Christ was there, whether I knew it or not, through the kindness of others, blessing me along the way.

I’d encourage you to ponder the many blessings you have received that got you to where you are right now. My guess is they are countless.

Woes
The feel-good portion of his sermon complete, Jesus continues.

Woe to you who are rich, for you have received yours.
Woe to you who are full, for you will be hungry.
Woe to you who are laughing, for you will weep.
Woe to you when all speak well of you,
for you are considered false prophets.

Woe to you? It’s enough to make me squirm. Are you wealthy, full, laughing, well-liked? Is Jesus saying woe to you?

Financially I’m fine.
My belly is full.
I enjoy laughter.
I’m even well-liked. Sometimes.

Is Jesus saying woe to me?

Said differently, woe to you is to wish profound distress on a person.

If these woes apply to you, and they do for yours truly – I’ve got some questions.

Why would Jesus want us to feel distressed?
With these feelings of discomfort now upon us –
how might Jesus want us to respond?

Synthesis
In the late 19th century Chicago Evening Post journalist Finley Peter Dunne wrote that the job of the newspaper is to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable. Many clergy will tell you that, too, is the role of the preacher. But our source material for that notion comes much earlier.

Because this is precisely what Luke’s Beatitudes, with their four paired blessings and woes, do. The language here mirrors Mary’s Magnificat a few chapters earlier. When hearing she was to give birth to the savior of the world Mary couldn’t help but sing that the Lord has filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty. Simply put Mother Mary and her Son seek to turn the world as we know it upside down.

I’d suggest that our response to this distress, this affliction we may feel, when we follow Christ’s call, represents nothing less than the heart of the gospel.

Our faithful response echoes the fruits of the Spirit when we care for others with love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

Our faithful response embodies Luther’s explanation of the 8th commandment, that we are not to tell lies about our neighbors, or destroy their reputation. Instead we are to speak well of them, and interpret everything they do in the best possible light.

Our faithful response epitomizes what it is to follow Christ’s greatest command: to love our neighbors as ourselves.

It is our call then to bless those in need.

Blessed are you who are poor,
Blessed are you who are hungry,
Blessed are you who weep,
Blessed are you when people exclude you.

Yes.

And also –
Blessed are you who aid the poor,
Blessed are you who feed the hungry,
Blessed are you who comfort the sad,
Blessed are you who include who others exclude.

We do an awful lot of that here at St. John’s.
It is something we can be very proud of.
Many of us do an awful lot of that elsewhere too.

And when we don’t?

Woe to you.
Woe to me.
Woe to us.

These woes represent an important reminder that we need to get back on the wagon and care for all of God’s children. Especially those society often neglects.

Theologian and pastor Karl Barth once famously said this: Take your Bible and take your newspaper and read both. But interpret newspapers from your Bible.

I try to keep this in mind every time I approach the pulpit.

Our American news cycle these past few weeks has been nothing less than an unmitigated hot mess. There’s no way around it. This entire sermon easily could have been filled with stories pulled from our headlines and lined up with the words of Jesus we hear today.

We could talk about the US Agency for International Development, or USAID.
We could talk about Lutheran Services in America, and Lutheran Services in Iowa.
We could talk about US plans to force Palestinians from Gaza and instead turn it into the Riviera of the Middle East.

Instead, I liked to focus on just one news story from earlier this week.

On Wednesday, Elon Musk posted a meme on his social media platform, X, showing a blue-eyed young blond woman sporting a bright smile with this caption, “Watching federal programs slashed because it doesn’t affect you because you’re not a member of the ‘Parasite Class.’”

Here we have the richest man in the world, given immense power by our presidential administration, who is publicly and unashamedly dehumanizing entire groups of people.

Let’s interpret this news with today’s gospel:

Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the Kingdom.
Woe to you who are rich, for you have received yours.

The pairing speaks for itself.

Far too often we let our government inform our faith. The opposite should be true. Our faith should inform how we vote, how we govern, how we speak, who we serve, how we serve, how we lead.

As Christians we too are at a fork in the road. Will we follow Christ’s call?

People of God, know this: we are called to more. Amen.

A little over three years ago, while discerning a possible call to be your next Senior Pastor, I found myself poring over 15 pages of paperwork the Synod provided about St. John’s.

In it two particular items stood out. First, that this congregation, “seeks to exemplify God’s unconditional and inclusive love for people of all walks, stages and circumstances of life.”

And second, that this congregation was looking for a Pastor to “develop priorities to put new definition on underscoring our tagline, In the City For Good.”

When in conversation with the call committee, I found myself asking for more detail on both, wondering as any good Lutheran would –

What does this mean?

The call committee described St. John’s deep history of LGBTQ inclusion, feeding programs through our Connection Café Bridge partnership, and being a founding member of what would become Central Iowa Shelter & Services.

I learned too that the Connection Café serves lunch to people regardless of their sexual orientation, race, ethnicity, nation of origin, immigration status, primary language, and whether or not they have a job or a home. They don’t ask for ID; they serve lunch to whoever shows up, no questions asked.

The call committee shared that we welcome and serve people here at St. John’s regardless of pretty much anything.

We then talked about practical ways we could build on that identity, and what that might look like in the coming years.

I found myself curious, excited about the possibility of serving a congregation with such lofty, Christlike ideals. And not just ideals. Because it sounded, to these ears, that this congregation was serious about intentionally living that out, together, as a people of faith.

Continued conversations between candidate and committee went well enough that, well, here we are.

Inclusion
Today we celebrate our one-year anniversary of becoming a Reconciling in Christ congregation. Today represents the culmination of some of our early work together to become a more intentionally inclusive church. While the Reconciling In Christ designation began over 40 years ago by prioritizing LGBTQ inclusion, who it includes is much, much broader. For All Are Welcome means all.

Our new Welcome Statement, ratified during our annual meeting last February, says it well:

At St. John’s Lutheran Church, we believe that all people are created in God’s image and that we honor and respect all that God has created. As a community of faith, our mission is to be a caring, loving people, actively engaged in God’s work.

We affirm, love, embrace, and invite all people in celebration of race, color, gender identity and expression, sexual orientation, age, marital status, mental and physical abilities, cultural background, immigration status, education, and varied faith journeys. We respect and are committed to racial equality, anti-racism, and the promotion of social and economic justice.

We believe that God’s grace is unlimited. We strive to extend that grace as we welcome and encourage you, in person and virtually, to join the congregational life and ministries of St. John’s Lutheran Church: In the City…and beyond…for Good.

We approved this statement of welcome by a 98% yes vote. In other words This.Is.Us. As a congregation we agreed, almost universally, to it. Now comes the hard part: we are called to live these lofty ideals out.

Isaiah
Our lectionary text from Luke 4:14-21 speaks to these ideals well. In it Jesus had just returned from the wilderness after being tested for 40 days by Satan. Having eaten nothing, and being tempted to give it all up, he passes the tests. Jesus now has newfound resolve. He knew who he was. He knew what he came to earth to do.

It is with this backdrop Jesus gives his first public words recorded in Luke, an inaugural sermon in the synagogue. Jesus stood up, received the scroll, unrolled it, found a passage from Isaiah, and began to read. The passage proclaims:

• good news to the poor,
• release to the captives,
• sight to the blind,
• setting free the oppressed.

Similar to the beatitudes, the Greek word for poor can mean many things. It is to be poor in money, poor in power, to be spiritually bankrupt. Said differently, this brief passage proclaims good news, release, and freedom for all.

Jesus then rolled up the scroll, gave it to the attendant, and sat down. Today, he affirms, this scripture has been fulfilled.

It is the ultimate inclusion, spoken two millennia ago, by Christ.

Because God’s love, and radical embrace of us, no matter who we are, is universal.

While Jesus spoke, we’re told that the eyes of everyone in the room were fixed on him. Those gathered that day weren’t distracted. They weren’t looking away. As sometimes happens with sermons they weren’t even sleeping. Or drooling!

They were focused.

The implications of this text, and how we live that out, are something we grapple with to this day.

Now
Newly inaugurated President Donald Trump has been busy his first week in office. To date he has signed 32 Executive orders covering topics like human rights, climate change, and pardoning all January 6 rioters, regardless of the crimes they committed.

One of these orders rescinded a previous executive order that prevented discrimination on the basis of gender identity and sexual orientation. The order says the federal government will no longer recognize gender identity and classify people as either male or female.

Separately, multiple independent sources have confirmed Iowa Governor Kim Reynolds will introduce legislation to remove basic human rights protections from transgender Iowans.

Said differently, at both the state and national level our government seeks to define transgender Americans out of existence.

It is fair to wonder what rights our government might try to take from the LGBTQ community next.

Also this week, President Trump authorized Immigration and Customs Enforcement, or ICE, to directly target courthouses, schools, hospitals, funerals, weddings, and churches. This action rolls back a previous policy, in place since 2011, that prohibited ICE from arresting suspected undocumented immigrants in these locations and gatherings.

Separately, there are reports of ICE agents, in plain clothes, visiting Des Moines hospitals this week. There are also reports that ICE has been confronting some unhoused individuals in the metro, particularly on the south side.

It is fair to wonder what else our government might try to do to install fear and inflict harm among the refugees, immigrants and asylum seekers in our lands. Many of whom are our neighbors, our church members, our friends.

Preach
This past Tuesday, at the National Cathedral inaugural prayer service in Washington DC, a day after President Trump’s inauguration, Episcopalian Bishop Miriann Budde preached on the three foundations of unity: 1) the inherent dignity of every human being, 2) honesty, and 3) humility.

As Bishop Budde neared the end of her sermon, she took a breath, looked directly at President Trump, and concluded her message by saying this:

Mr. President, millions have put their trust in you. And as you told the nation yesterday, you have felt the providential hand of a loving God. In the name of our God, I ask you to have mercy on the people in our country who are scared now. There are gay, lesbian and transgender children in Democratic, Republican and independent families. Some who fear for their lives.

And the people who pick our crops and clean our office buildings, who labor in poultry farms and meat packing plants, who wash the dishes in restaurants, who work the night shifts in hospitals. They may not be citizens, nor have the proper documentation, but the vast majority of immigrants are not criminals. They pay taxes and are good neighbors. They are faithful members of our churches, mosques, synagogues and temples.

I ask you to have mercy Mr. President, on those in our communities whose children fear their parents will be taken away. And that you help those who are fleeing war zones and persecution in their own lands, to find compassion and welcome here. Our God teaches us that we are to be merciful to the stranger, for we were all once strangers in this land.

In our text from Luke 4 today, the eyes of everyone in the room were fixed on Jesus as he spoke. But that is not what happened in the National Cathedral Tuesday. When this plea went out video of the service shows President Trump looked away. Many other newly elected leaders, their spouses and family members looked away too. When asked to show mercy to people, many of our elected officials couldn’t, or wouldn’t, look the preacher in the eye.

Here
People of God, know this: we are called to more.

We are called to have mercy and to welcome, include, serve and protect all of God’s children.

Here at St. John’s we will continue to baptize, confirm, marry and bury people regardless of their orientation, national origin or immigration status. We will continue to invite them into full participation in the life of this church and to be active as clergy, staff, lay leaders and members.

We will continue to refer to people using their pronouns, be it he/him, she/her, or they/them. We will continue to affirm and support our transgender and non-binary siblings in Christ. For they are, as we all are, fellow children of God.

We will continue to serve meals through Connection Café to whoever shows up, without documentation, no matter who they may be. We will continue to welcome all flavors of humanity to worship with us, regardless of their citizenship status, primary language, regardless of whether they slept at home the night before, or just outside our doors. For we were all once strangers in this land.

This week we will add signage to our doors indicating St. John’s is private property. And that unauthorized entry, including by ICE or Homeland Security, without a judicial warrant, is not allowed.

We will continue to welcome, care for, serve, include, love, show mercy and protect the dignity of all people who walk through our doors.

We do so unequivocally.
We do so without apology.
We can do no other.

This, my friends, is what means to share the Good News.

While the morality of our country continues to erode, we will not stand idly by.

This is a time to celebrate who we are a Reconciling in Christ church. It’s a big deal! Very few churches in our area are. This is also the time to live out what it means for us to be In The City For Good.

For we know who we are. And we know what Christ calls us here to do.  Amen.

 

A reflection on Luke 1:39-45

Today’s gospel text is likely familiar. It is a story of two pregnant cousins, Mary and Elizabeth. After travelling Mary meets Elizabeth at the door. Upon hearing Mary’s greeting the child leaps in Elizabeth’s womb.

Elizabeth, overcome with excitement, exclaims loudly:

Blessed are you among women!
Blessed is the fruit of your womb!
Blessed is she who believes,
what was spoken by the Lord!

It is a Hallmark moment,
Where all is right.

It is going to Disneyworld,
Preparing for the best of days.

It is the perfect gift,
Under the tree,
All wrapped up,
Tied with a bow.

As well-timed baby kicks often do, this one connects two worlds where Elizabeth resides. The first is the world as it is. The second is world within her, and Mary, that is soon to be.

Elizabeth excitedly shares this joy with her cousin, and all of us, today.

Pondering the energy that bursts from this text, I asked friends on social media to share their baby kick memories and what the moments meant to them. Surprisingly, only women shared, even tho we men experience kicks, tho perhaps in a different way. Here are a few stories shared by friends.

Amanda Kress had first flutters at an I-Cubs game. Actually it was after the game, during fireworks. The kicks reassured her, and let Amanda know the child was already connecting with the world around them with a bang.

Jealaine Marple remembers not kicks but dancing. During chapel at seminary, the organ would start playing and her child would get down, breakdancing to the beat. How cool is that.

Karen Andeweg remembers not kicks, but something more akin to rolls. And hiccups late at nite when she was trying to sleep. It was a reminder for her that good news was brewing within.

Second Look
While today’s gospel text is familiar there is more to this tale.

Consider Mary. At around 13 years old Mary was pregnant, and unwed. Her fiancée Joseph was not the father. Initially he considered calling the nuptials off. Had this happened Mary would have been an unwed teenage mother. Society would have judged her harshly, unfairly. Perhaps in our day not much has changed.

Consider Elizabeth. Nearing 90 years old at the time of her pregnancy it too was a surprise. She and her husband had tried for years to have a child. Until then it wasn’t to be. Would this time be different? What if the problems her and Zachariah experienced with having a child were about to happen again?

The two women couldn’t help but be anxious, fearful, afraid. In their own way they each had a high-risk pregnancy. They had much to gain. They had much to lose.

It is with this backdrop that Mary went to visit Elizabeth. It was no short trip; Mary trekked more than sixty miles for the visit, either by mule or by foot. The trip for her likely would have been hard.

As the two embraced there was excitement in the air.

As well-timed baby kicks often do, the kick brought with it joy to the cousins, yes. But it did more. It helped the pair overcome the fears they faced. They were not alone, they had each other, they had a sign that all was well. The women, who were 75 years apart in age celebrated, together.

It is a reminder that God is faithful to us across the generations.
It is a reminder too that God meets us where we’re at.
And meets us no matter where that may be.

This includes meeting the sadness of couples who want to have a child but are unable to.

Here are a few other baby kick stories friends shared that delve into how God meets us amid the messiness of life.

Kira Ward, during her last pregnancy, at age 40, faced a challenge. The umbilical cord that connected mother and child had a condition, that if the vessel burst, could limit oxygen to the baby. This naturally worried her and husband Brian a good bit. The kicks, when they happened, were a real-time reassurance that the baby boy was doing just fine, that all was well.

Sara remembers that every kick scared her. And for good reason: she had lost six babies before her son was born. Kicking would startle her, she’d then sigh in relief. And what was better than the ‘was that a kick phase’ for Sara? The new game her baby made up she playfully calls the ‘can I reach your bladder with my foot.’ Often the baby won. And off to the bathroom she went 😊.

Dawn Trautman decided to be a single mother by choice, and has loved nearly every bit of it. She has a strong community and people fiercely kind about showing up for every big moment for her daughter. But her baby kicks during pregnancy couldn’t be scheduled. She was alone or among strangers every time they happened. She laments never getting to share that with anyone in a tactile “feel my belly” kind of way.

Veronica Smith had an anterior placenta, and because of that never expected to feel a kick. On Christmas Eve she remembers feeling sad about all this talk of babies and Mary during the service. Telling her husband about how sad she was feeling about it, the unexpected happened. She felt a kick. Then another. And another. Veronica sobbed tears of joy, tears of relief. In the midst of a difficult pregnancy the reminder all was well was beautifully timed.

As we look toward the manger let each of us open our hearts to experience the kicks of new life that surround us. Kicks of new life on the way come in many forms.

It is the call from a friend you haven’t heard from in forever.
It is the relationship evolving in new, healthy ways.
It is the feeling of peace amid tension all around.
It is the sense of hope where before there was none.

For the Holy Spirit is the author of each gentle kick, each nudge we feel.

She reminds us, in the words of the 14th century mystic Julian of Norwich, that

All shall be well,
And all shall be well,
And all manner of things shall be well.

For the savior of the world will be born among us, quite soon. Amen.

A reflection on Mark 13-1-8. 

When my wife and I hit our early 30s, after being together for eleven years, we decided to expand our family. College degrees obtained, careers established, home purchased, for us it was time.

We soon realized bringing new life into the world was harder than we knew.

After eighteen months of trying without success we contacted a fertility specialist. With their help and trying some more – that’s always the fun part – some news.

The pregnancy test delivered. Two solid lines on that plastic stick appeared.

Success!

But it was early. We didn’t tell a soul. Much, we knew, could still go wrong.

Every few days Kathi went to the fertility specialist, with me by her side, for a lab draw to ensure all was well. Initially it was. The hCG number doubled every three days just as it should. Until it didn’t. An ultrasound explained why. No heartbeat could be found.

The embryo had genetic abnormalities incompatible with life. It would have been a boy.

We were five weeks along.
We were devastated.

It took some time to heal heart, body, mind.
Eventually we decided to start over and try again.

Soon enough there was another pregnancy test. Two more solid lines!

We were excited, but cautious. We kept up with our appointments, praying this time would be different.

The first ultrasound showed a heartbeat. Yes!

But the second did not. This embryo would have been a girl.

This time we were eight weeks along.
We grieved some more.

Our fertility doctor performed a D&C on Kathi after both miscarriages, offering their skills, support, empathy, and care. Thank God for medical professionals that specialize in women’s reproductive health.

Progress
Four years after our parenthood journey began, we decided, again, to continue on.

Another positive pregnancy test followed.
Could this third time be the charm?

The hCG numbers doubled as they should. The ultrasound showed a heartbeat. The heartbeat stayed strong. Finally, we reasoned, things were looking good.

We read the book seemingly everyone gets, What to Expect When You’re Expecting, anticipating each upcoming change. Feeling hopeful, we nicknamed this one “Bean,” a playful reference to their size at six weeks.

The first trimester came and went without hitch. The second trimester did too.

We excitedly designed Bean’s nursery, adding the crib, stuffed animals, a changing table. We selected the paint color for their room: cantaloupe. It matched nicely with the Winnie the Pooh motif we selected for the room.

Kathi and I plotted out the birthing plan, defining each detail of how we wanted Bean to be born.

No need to schedule an induction.
Let’s do this naturally, please.

And pain medication?
No need, Kathi said.
Lord knows she is *tough*

Besides, we figured, our doctor would be there, helping us all along the way.

Forty weeks came and went. On Bean’s due date we attended a Spring Training baseball game, knowing the big event would be soon. The Mets beat the Cardinals, in Jupiter, Florida, by a score of 6-4 on that sunny March 5th day.

The Day
Our next prenatal visit four days later brought with it unexpected news. “You need to check into the hospital tonite to be induced,” our doctor shared. Oh boy, I thought. This is it.

“And I’m sorry,” our doctor continued, “but I’m going on vacation. I can’t be there. Don’t worry, another doctor will take my place.” What? That wasn’t the plan.

We worried. Then we worried some more.

Now in the hospital Kathi was induced, and in a lot of pain. Letting go of one more part of the plan she opted for an epidural.

But the epidural didn’t do what we’d hoped; once contractions started her pain was excruciating. “It felt like my insides were being torn in half,” Kathi remembers.

The machines connected to Kathi were beeping; her blood pressure was skyrocketing. Bean’s heartrate dropped dangerously low.

I watched as Kathi was carted off for an emergency C-section, and quickly got ready to join her. As the procedure began the operating room grew quiet. Fear got the best of me. We later learned that Kathi had a uterine window, a hole in the uterus. This hole was literally ripping her apart. If the C-section hadn’t happened when it did, I could have lost them both.

I’ve never been as excited, or as scared, as in those minutes spent waiting to hear the fate of the two people on the planet I loved most.

And then, at 10:19am March 10, 2010, a seven-pound baby girl appeared. She filled her lungs with air, made her first sounds. We named her Hannah Grace Arnold.

As I first held Hannah, looking down at that tiny, peaceful face, and over at my exhausted yet joy-filled wife as she was being stitched up in recovery, I realized something.

Our five-year journey had been long. It was filled with unexpected, unwanted detours. Very little had gone according to our personal plan. There had been very real emotional and physical pain along the way. At times that pain seemed too much to bear.

But you know what? In that March moment none of that painful past mattered. Because my heart was instantly filled with joy, peace, love. For what mattered most was now sleeping in my arms. This new life we’d been waiting for so long had finally arrived.

Then
Today’s gospel from Mark 13:1-8 is also about how difficult it can be to bring new life into the world.

In it the disciples were impressed by the grandiose, great towers of their time. Jesus warns them to guard against being distracted by how things seem. Don’t worship opulence, Christ tells them, for one day it will all be gone.

There will be wars, and rumors of wars, political upheavals, extreme weather, Christ continues. Many will try and lead you astray.

This is a text for our time.
This is a text for all times.

At first blush it is downright depressing.

And yet, on closer inspection, the text offers hope.

Don’t be alarmed, Christ reminds. For all of this must come to pass.

The final two words of this text in verse 8 hold the key to unlocking it: birth pangs. Collectively, right now, we are experiencing labor pain. For God is birthing the kingdom of heaven all around.

Today
We may have our preferences on the birthing plan for this new kingdom. We may have our hopes of when, and how, and with who it all goes down.

But no one knows the time or the day of when this upcoming birth will be fully realized. To focus on our desires for what that looks like is to wholly miss the point.

Our prayer today is our prayer for all days. That –

Thy kingdom come,
Thy will be done,
On earth, as it is, in heaven.

And we, beloved, fortunately get to take part.

We are the helpers, sowing the seeds of this kingdom to come.

Our society sadly is moving toward some unfortunate times. Collectively our culture, more and more is one of anger, grievance, lawlessness, revenge, untruth.

And yet as Christ-followers we know, unequivocally, that none of that is of God.

Instead let us recenter on our faith. May we plant the fruits of the Spirit in our spiritual gardens. May the fruits of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control blossom within us and grow all around. No law can stop us from doing just that.

To strengthen us on our journey from pain to joy, let us practice self-care alongside care of neighbor. So –

Cook for pleasure,
Clean the house,
Winterize your garden,
Volunteer in community,
Dance.

Read scripture,
Read romance,
Read adventure,
Read in public,
Simply read.

Take a walk,
Ride a bike,
Give a hug,
Hold hands,
Sleep.

Take a bath,
Call a friend,
Play a game,
Tell a joke,
Laugh.

Pray,
Worship,
Commune,
Study,
Sing.

Recognize the pain you, and so many others, are in. Don’t deny it. Hold space for it. Give yourself time to heal. With help from above in time you will.

Remember beloved, the kingdom of God grows, right here on earth. It is a beautiful kingdom. Bit by bit it breaks through the decay of this world. Do not be alarmed. We are in labor. For God, with our help, is birthing this world anew. Amen.

In 1985 singer, songwriter and harmonica player Huey Lewis wrote a new song for his band, Huey Lewis and the News. The song was in the film Back to the Future, becoming a hit for the band. If you saw the movie or listened to Casey Kasem’s American Top 40 on the radio that year you’ve heard the tune.

Anyone remember the name of the song?

The Power of Love.

The lyrics are catchy, and memorable.

The power of love,
Is a curious thing,
Makes one man weep,
Makes another sing,
Changes a hawk,
To a little white dove
More than a feeling,
That’s the power of love.

Then
Today’s text from John 8:31-36 is also about power.

In it we find Jesus speaking with a group of Judeans. Judeans were from the kingdom of Judea, which is now southern Israel. The people’s identity was very much based on where they lived. They were proud of where they were from.

The people Christ spoke with believed in him. But something must have happened. Because this same group of people were now at odds with Jesus. Some were even set on killing him.

Amid this backdrop Christ began to teach. Continue in my word, he shared with the crowd. From that word you will know the truth. This truth will make you free.

Free? The people could hardly believe their ears. We’ve never been slaves to anyone, they replied. What do you mean? Their power was wrapped up in a certain geography, Judea. And because of that, in their minds, they were free.

And yet, even at a surface level, something was off. Important moments in their collective history had been forgotten. By then the people Jesus spoke with had:

• Escaped from Egyptian entrapment
• Been deported to Babylon for 70 years
• Currently lived under the reality of Roman colonization.

‘Never slaves to anyone?’ Jesus might have wondered. Really?

Seeking to connect concepts, Christ continues. Sin, aka that which goes against the divine will of our creator, enslaves us. We are captive to it. The audience, deeply devout Jews, knew what Jesus referred to here well.

Much of it could be found in the Ten Commandments, what with their imperatives to not kill, steal, commit adultery, lie.

It was these actions, Jesus explained, that enslave us. Slaves have little agency, few options, no direct power of their own. On the other hand Jesus had the power to forgive, to reconcile relationships, to show them the way. And he did all this out of pure love for God’s people.

I am the truth, Christ says.
Follow me and be free.

Now
Earlier this month the ELCA Council of Bishops published an open letter emphasizing “the need to speak the truth.”

The letter begins in the beginning, in the garden of Eden. It is there where deception and lies led to the fall of humanity.

The letter names that we are a people who know and proclaim the power of Christ, God in the flesh, who said, “I am the way, the truth and the life.”

It states that we know the power of truth is greater than the power of deceit.

The letter condemns, with one voice, the hateful, deceptive, violent speech that has too readily found a place in our national discourse.

It implores members of our denomination, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, using scripture, to do many things, including:

• Pledging to be vigilant guardians of the truth
• Committing to rigorous fact-checking
• Boldly advocating for the marginalized and oppressed
• Courageously interrupting hate speech
• Amplifying voices of truth.

The timely letter concludes by encouraging us to resist deception, reminding us that all members of humanity are created in the image of God.

Apply
Similar to the Judeans of Biblical times, as Americans our identity is also very much tied to where we live.  Continue in my word, Christ tells us. From that word you will know the truth. This truth will make you free.

Hearing this might make you squirm a bit. Free? We’re Americans, we may respond. This is the land of the free! Perhaps we see our power wrapped up in a flag. And because of that, in our minds, we are free.

And yet, if we take a look at our collective history we notice that –

• Slavery in the US was not so long ago
• Hard earned gains in the Civil Rights era have begun to erode
• Women’s rights continue to be challenged in ways old and new
• Our longstanding welcome to immigrants, refugees and asylum seekers is shifting radically from what it once was.

Freedom is here, yes. But it’s worth asking: freedom for who?

To quote Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr, no one is free until we all are free.

As Christians the Greatest Commandment serves as the guardrails for our faith.

Love the Lord your God, and love your neighbor as yourself.

Like us, our neighbor, no matter who they are, was created in the image of God. If we treat them as anything less than that we have become shackled to sin.

Fortunately Jesus has the power to forgive, to reconcile relationships, to show us the way. And he did all this out of pure love for each of us.

I am the truth, Christ claims.
Follow me and be free.

Today
I’d suggest that, as Americans, far too often we set our sights on worldly gain.

Because of this, basic norms of our shared humanity are increasingly coming under attack in very public, significant ways. Beloved, please know:

Sexual assault is not ok. Never was. Never will be.

Demonizing people because of their gender, race, ethnicity, orientation, land of origin, political party, or anything else is not of God.

Telling countless lies in the face of fact-checking that sets the record straight is more than deceitful. It causes harm to those we lie about.

None of this is Christian.
All of this enslaves us to sin.

Reform
Today we celebrate the Protestant Reformation. With roots in Germany over 500 years ago, the Reformation represented an important pivot for all of Christianity. At the time you could pay the Catholic church to ensure your loved ones went to heaven. The system, as Martin Luther named, was not scriptural, did not adhere to traditional Christian understandings, and was, in a word, corrupt.

Instead, Luther furthered a new theological doctrine, justification by faith alone. That is to say there is nothing you can do to earn your salvation. It is freely given to you in the waters of your baptism. By faith alone salvation is yours.

Celebrating Reformation each October also serves as a reminder: Christ continues to encourage us to follow the winds of the Spirit in new ways. The need to re-form ourselves so that God’s will be done on earth, as it is in heaven, is ever constant. We are called to keep learning, keep questioning, keep growing into our faith in thought, word and deed.

Right after service I invite you to head over to Neumann Hall for a talk on Christian Nationalism by Connie Ryan, the Executive Director of the Interfaith Alliance of Iowa. Connie will describe what Christian Nationalism is, why we should be concerned about it, and how it leads us, both as Christians and Americans, astray.

For too long we’ve been humming along to the wrong song. Do you know the name of it?

The Love of Power. It’s been a top hit here in America for a while. It makes the rich richer, the poor poorer, and marginalizes all sorts of groups.

Like Huey Lewis, we too need to write a new song.

Beloved, please know this. Christ is the way, the truth and the life. To follow Christ is to be truly free. No earthly power will do.

That’s the power of love.