Things Are About to Get Disrupted, TLC, NL, Matthew 28, September 3, 2023

Grace and Peace to you from God our Creator and our Lord Jesus, who is our Christ. Amen.

We’ve all been there. Life is rolling along, just the way we expected it to go. Then something happens, and in an instant, you know, … business as usual is going to be disrupted. 

You know how that looks. And I’m pretty sure you can recall the feeling in the pit of your stomach from the last time it happened to you:

• You have a great job, you’re starting to save for your children’s education, and you are called in to a company meeting, where you learn that 30% of the workforce is being laid off, and that 30% includes you.
• The phone rings early on a Saturday morning. It’s your mom, and she never calls you at that hour.
• Your doctor’s office calls: Your doctor wants you to come in right away about the results of that last “routine” test.
• Or sometimes the news is great – your partner calls and says “We’re having a baby!” Joyful news, but still disruptive.

Whatever that moment has been for you, in an instant, life as you know it is going to change. Your priorities may shift. Your carefully organized schedule – out the window!

Business as usual will be disrupted.

When Jesus was telling his disciples about his ascension, he tried to prepare them for what was coming. The storm that was the life-changing Gospel, the Way of Jesus the Christ, was arriving. In today’s reading from Matthew, Jesus was trying to give them some hints: “ALL authority in heaven and on earth…” “Make disciples of ALL nations…” “I am with you ALWAYS, to the end of the age…” In John’s gospel, Jesus told them, “I have much more to tell you, more than you can bear….”

And every time, Jesus assured them that he wasn’t leaving them on their own, he was sending them help, an advocate, the Holy Spirit. “Hang out,” he told them. “Stay together and wait for it.”

The disciples really didn’t know what was coming. Perhaps it was better that way – I imagine they would have bolted had they known! When the Holy Spirit arrives, business as usual is going to get disrupted. The Spirit arrived with fire, wind, commotion. People were amazed, bewildered, perplexed. No one received a little taste of the Spirit. It filled them, overflowed from their hearts and hands. Everything changed.

******

Is it different in 2023?

Well, some things are. We don’t expect fire and wind when we enter this space. Chances are the visitor count won’t be like it was that first Pentecost Day (Especially this weekend! 😊)

We do prefer to speak the same language! When we profess our faith with the Apostles Creed, no fireworks happen. The third article of the Creed, expressing our belief in God as Holy Spirit and our place in eternity, sometimes seems, at least to me, an afterthought to God, the active Creator, and life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

However, if you or your child happened to be confirmed in the Lutheran Church, you may remember Martin Luther’s explanations of the Commandments, the Lord’s Prayer, and yes, the Apostles’ Creed. Hidden among the “what does this means” and the “this is most certainly trues” of Luther’s Small Catechism is this gem, fleshing out the Holy Spirit portion, the Third Article of the Apostles’ Creed:

I believe that I cannot by my own reason or strength believe in Jesus Christ, my Lord, or come to Him; but the Holy Spirit has called me by the Gospel, enlightened me with spiritual gifts, sanctified and kept me in the true faith. In the same way, the Spirit calls, gathers, enlightens, and sanctifies the whole Christian church on earth, and keeps it with Jesus Christ in the one true faith. In this Christian church, the Holy Spirit daily and richly forgives all my sins and the sins of all believers. On the Last Day, the Spirit will raise me and all the dead, and give eternal life to me and all believers in Christ.

Ho-ly Spirit! Wow!

Without the Holy Spirit, there would be no believers, no gifts, no holiness, no staying power in faith, for me, for you, for anyone!

There would be no Church, no love, no grace, no mercy, no forgiveness, no eternity.

No Baptisms, no Lord’s Supper, no music, no joy!

Without the Spirit – nada. Absolutely nothing. In that light, the power of the Holy Spirit is immense. Everything we are, everything we do as Christ’s church is possible because of the Holy Spirit. Every group of preschoolers singing “Jesus Loves Me,” every “The Lord is My Shepherd” whispered in someone’s dying breaths, and every word and action in between. The Spirit IS the life of the Church. When the Spirit shows up, business as usual is going to get disrupted.

It is the Spirit that changes us through our prayers and in our worship, and prompts us to reach out to the hungry, the hurting, the lonely, the lost. When we start getting sidetracked from the mission, getting caught up in our own buildings and comforts, the Spirit prods us, “shakes us out of lethargy,” as we sang in our opening hymn, to see how much others need us, and how much we need them.

It is the Spirit that challenges us to reach hundreds of preschoolers and their families with God’s love at Trinity Preschool. To partner with Gateway 360, Circles of Concern and Meals Do Matter. To reach across the border and provide encouragement and education to change lives at Lantern Hill. And in doing so, the people we reach are changing us. It goes so far beyond acts of kindness. We are being transformed. There’s a Holy Disruption that is happening within each of us, and in the Body of Christ that is ALL of us.

Because when the Holy Spirit shows up, business as usual will be disrupted.

Pastor and theologian David Lose put it this way: “But take note, as in the readings today, so also in our world: if we heed the word and work of the coming-along-side Holy Spirit, we will inevitably be pushed beyond what we imagine and end up stirring things up. We tend to think of the Holy Spirit as the answer to a problem, but what if the Spirit’s work is to create for us a new problem: that we have a story to tell, mercy to share, love to spread, and we just can’t rest until we’ve done so!”

Perhaps you’ve heard it put this way: the Spirit’s work is to “Comfort the Afflicted and Afflict the Comfortable.” No doubt, the Spirit is Comforter to those who are hurting and struggling. But the Spirit also is unrelenting in moving us off center, making us open our doors a little wider, using the many ways Trinity has been blessed to be a blessing to our community and beyond.

*****

Sometimes I wonder, “Do people really know what they’re getting into when they pray “Come, Holy Spirit”? Do they understand what they are asking? After a month at Trinity, I think you all DO know.

When I arrived at Trinity, it was with a bit of awe. This church is nearly 125 years old. Trinity has survived depressions and times of war. There’s a preschool. Several large community projects. An international mission. Three music professionals. A facility that serves the community by hosting fund-raising events, recovery meetings, sports practices, concerts and more. So many staff members and members with such diverse gifts. And now Trinity has stretched itself to invest in the future of the Church, as a training site for a vicar.

The Holy Spirit is in this place, in each one of you: illuminating, growing, encouraging, inspiring. From our littles listening and dancing, to our elders worshiping and connecting. Next week, it’s God’s Work, Our Hands Sunday. The following week, Rally Sunday. Holy Disruptions. Holy work that the Spirit is moving Trinity to do.

I pray that you will never stop realizing where that power comes from – the faith, the love, the grace, the service that is Trinity Lutheran Church comes from the Holy Spirit. And I pray that you continue to be surprised, and occasionally awed, by what the Holy Spirit is inspiring Trinity to do. Amen.

Promises Made, Promises Kept, Ex 12 NL YR3-4, October 4, 2020

 We’ve skipped over centuries of history from last Sunday to now, from Joseph bringing his family to Egypt because of the famine, to the enslavement of the Israelite people by the Egyptians. More than 400 years has passed as the Egyptians progressively made Israel’s sons and daughters lives more miserable with brickmaking and fieldwork. Egypt’s Pharoah has tried to weaken the Israelites, ordering midwives to kill the sons of Israel’s women. Instead, the enslaved people have multiplied, causing the Pharaoh to fear the Israelites will side with one of Egypt’s enemies. The stage is set for something inconceivable to happen, for God to use this occasion to keep a promise.

Promises. Do you remember a time growing up when someone important to you made a promise and kept it? Maybe it was that day, but maybe it was a promise that took months or even years to keep. Or maybe a time when someone broke their promise. You remember those moments. People expect people to keep their promises.

I remember when Mike and I first moved to Arizona. It was 34 years ago today – I remember, as it was my 23^rd birthday. We had driven straight through from Wisconsin, through Illinois, Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma, Texas, and finally, through New Mexico. Almost there. The sun was just coming up as we came over a rise on Interstate 40, and the horizon was FILLED with hot-air balloons. We turned on a local station to discover it was an annual event, the Albuquerque International Balloon Festival. Mike promised me that some year, we would come back and celebrate my birthday there, on the ground, surrounded with the colorful spectacle of thousands of balloons lifting off around us.

Working here in Cottonwood for the Verde Independent, my job was especially busy in the fall months, with schools and sports stories galore – we never could get away. It wasn’t until 2008 that we finally spent the weekend there, viewing the mass ascension, the balloon glows, and meeting up with a former co-worker who had moved there. Not only was it wonderful beyond our imagination, but because it didn’t happen immediately, our son was able to share it.

Promises kept are an important part of relationship building.

Imagine being an Israelite family in Egypt. As long as anyone could remember, they had been in bondage to Egypt. Despair had set in, and God’s promises to make Abraham’s children a great nation mocked them. How great was this? Their songs and stories in worship tasted bitter and empty.

But finally, God lifted up Moses to deliver them. Plague after plague, hope returned. Maybe this would be the one. Soon, Pharoah tired of the plagues. “Fine – you want to play games, I’ll keep you too busy to play games. Gather your own straw for the bricks. But keep producing the same amount.” Pharoah expected the Israelites would turn on Moses. But God was ready to keep God’s promise.

Moses gave the people God’s instructions: prepare your homes and families. Select an appropriate lamb to sacrifice, mark your doorposts, pack your things. Prepare your bread – but don’t expect to have time for yeast to rise. We need to be ready to move. It’s finally time for the Lord to deliver us.

And when the Egyptian first-borns died and the Israelite households were passed over, the Pharoah told them to go. Go! Now, before your God strikes more of us dead! Leave, now! And prepared by God’s instructions, they were ready. They were on the move before Pharoah changed his mind. Finally, God had kept God’s promise.

But were God’s people ready to live into that promise of being God’s freed people? The story of the next 40 years looked nothing like a grateful people who trusted in God’s promises to keep providing for them. Time and time again, God’s people turned away, ready to turn back to Egypt and worship idols rather than trust in God’s provision. Over and over, Moses reminded them of how God delivered them, how God provided manna and quail and water when they needed it. Every year, they took time to remember the Passover, when God passed over their homes, struck down the Egyptian’s will, and allowed them to escape bondage. When God kept a promise that they would be God’s own chosen people.

 It would be a few more generations before Joshua led them into the promised land, their own land where they could live, multiply and prosper. Even then, God’s people would fail to trust, over and over, and would fall back into bondage. It was centuries later, during a period of Roman occupation, that God again kept God’s promise … this time, the promise of a long-awaited Messiah.

On that night in the upper room, Jesus celebrated the Passover with his disciples. The Passover Seder is a time when Jewish families remember God’s great faithfulness. In the centuries old tradition, Jesus reminded them of God’s promises – promises kept, from the matzah bread, the bitter herbs, the lamb. And then after supper, Jesus changed the script. He gave his disciples his own promise. As he held up that third cup of wine, the cup of redemption, he told the disciples that  HE  was the fulfillment of that promise, the new covenant that through his life, death and resurrection, they would be God’s people forever. And again, that word. “Remember” – Do this to remember me.

Jesus already had made them promises. He told them that he was going to prepare a place. He shared that he was going to die, but on the third day, he would overcome death. And on this last night together, he made them another promise, that he was going to bridge the chasm between them and God for all time. God’s grace was enough, and God’s kingdom was theirs.

In these days of uncertainty, perhaps promises don’t ring true to you. Maybe you’ve been hurt too often by family, friends, employers, politicians -- the world in general. 2020 has been a difficult year. Our faith in promises is shaken. The pandemic numbers keep rising. Nothing we hear sounds trustworthy. Let me assure you: you’re not wrong. The world’s guarantees have never been anything but empty words, shifting sand under our feet. In this time of hopelessness, we need to grasp God’s promises tighter than ever.

On most Sundays, we would remember God’s new covenant again in our Lord’s Supper. Today, instead, I invite you to meditate on all of God’s promises, promises we make in the confession, the creed, in our prayers, in our hymns. And next week, when you join together with Pastor Sharon in the feast, listen to the words and REMEMBER how you fit into God’s story – promises of God’s faithfulness, from the beginning, to now, and to the end of time. In that you CAN trust.

Amen.

Justice, NL YR3-3, Sept. 27, 2020

Grace and peace to you from our Loving Creator, and from our Savior, Jesus, who is our Christ. Amen.

As many of the itinerant preachers of the early centuries did, I bring you greetings from the places where I’ve been, so greetings both from the family of Christ at Emmanuel Lutheran in Prescott Valley, which had its first in-person worship in six months last Sunday, and from the future leaders of the church gathered virtually through the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago, where I am a first-year full-time seminarian, at long last!

Justice is heavy on my mind this week: Justice in the grand jury outcome in the Breonna Taylor case, justice for our planet and our children’s children who will live here, and then justice in our Biblical account today: for the family of Jacob, Joseph and his brothers, and their children.

Let’s begin with Joseph’s brothers. In the preceding chapters, Joseph’s brothers come to Egypt to buy food for their family, as they are deep into a famine. They reconnect with Joseph, who was enslaved because of their actions, imprisoned, then rose to greatness in service to the Pharoah. He insists the family move to Egypt, where he can provide for them in the coming years of the continuing famine.

A grateful Jacob reconnects with his favorite son, and all seems well, until Jacob dies. Then, his brothers realize, there is no reason for Joseph to continue to treat them well. This, they assume, is where Joseph will enact justice for what they did to him decades earlier. And they know they deserve whatever he does.

•     He has the power; he could have them killed.

• He can have them thrown into prison.

• He can refuse to give them more food, and they will starve.

• Or he can order them into slavery, as he was sold into slavery as a youth.

So, terrified, they concoct a story (How’s that for going right back to creating stories to cover for their misdeeds?) They told Joseph that Jacob, on his deathbed, asked that he forgive them. Then they offer themselves as slaves – not the best outcome, but better than imprisonment, starving or dying. And they wait for whatever justice Joseph gives.

Joseph didn’t command death, slavery, starvation or even imprisonment. Joseph forgave them and wiped away a lifetime of lingering pain. Joseph had the power to choose anything as justice, and Joseph chose … LOVE.

And the tears fell. And the hugging. And probably another banquet of food. Joseph was freed from the burden of hate – he had his family for life. The brothers were finally freed from the burden of fear, that Joseph would enact revenge. That’s what forgiveness does. It frees us.

Crowds of people gathered in Louisville, Kentucky, and many other places this week, as a grand jury was set to release its indictment in the case of Breonna Taylor, the young EMT who was killed in her home by a police officer, during a no-knock warrant served at the wrong address. JUSTICE FOR BREONNA, some of the signs read. Wednesday night, after no officer was charged in her murder, and one detective was charged for wanton endangerment for firing into the neighboring apartment, crowds in Louisville and elsewhere became violent. NO JUSTICE, NO PEACE, they chanted. Two Louisville officers were shot, but are expected to survive. The shooter was apprehended.

Where’s the justice for Breonna Taylor?

Thursday, I spent three hours on Zoom, meeting with 180 other national interfaith leaders and church members who are concerned about climate change. We have a decade, give or take, before there is no turning back from the damage excess carbon emissions are wreaking on this planet.

I think about my son, Michael, who was only 7 when we left Spirit of Joy – He just turned 30. I think about the sons he’s raising now: Logan is 9 and Nathan is 7. What kind of world will we give to them?

Where is the justice for Michael, for Logan and Nathan, the justice for all the children of the world?

I wish justice for Breonna and other black lives lost came as easily as forgiveness happened with Joseph and his brothers. I wish we could say we’re sorry for the harm we’ve caused this planet and make it all better. But justice isn’t nearly that easy. Our world is broken. Our relationships with each other and this planet are broken.

Here in God’s family, we have a name for that brokenness – Sin. In some cases, sin is easily wiped away by the vastness of God’s grace.

And sometimes sin can be wiped away but repairing the damage of that brokenness takes all of the energy we can muster. We need to repent – literally turn ourselves from the actions we’ve been taking, and go in the other direction.

This week has been a kick in my stomach as I realize that I can’t ignore this and think someone else will do the work of racial and climate justice.

I am terrified to look inside myself and decide how I need to change to do my part to rid the world of systemic racism. What is it that each of us needs to hear, to learn, to turn around in order to move forward toward justice for our black and brown neighbors?

It takes courage to admit we’ve taken and taken and taken without any obvious consequences, and we’ve abused this planet to the end of its ability to sustain life. We can’t wait. We’re out of time. We have to turn around.

I will say it again. Justice for God’s family, justice for God’s creation has NO easy answers. But every one of us has a part to play in creating a more just world, and we need to get started, now.

Amen.