Tag Archives: christianity

Found yourself in a pickle? Return to the manger (Sermon)

Weinachts gurke, Christbaumschmuck der Firma Inge-Glas, Neustadt bei Coburg, Deutschland, CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons.

This Christmas sermon inspired by the popular pickle ornament was preached on  Luke 2:1-20 at Christ Lutheran Church (Fredericksburg, VA) on Christmas Eve, December 24, 2023. You can also find a recording of this post at my 2 Penny Blog Podcast.

Sadly, there is no children’s message tonight, but we are all Children of God, and this is Christmas Eve, so I have something to show you. [Displaying pickle Christmas ornament.] Can anyone tell me what this is?  —- That’s right, it is a pickle ornament, but in this case, it has a pickle flavored gummy candy inside. (Yum, right?) As I shopped for gifts this year, both in Walmart and Target, I discovered versions of this tasty “gift” inspired by the popular Christmas ornament – the pickle.

Now, there are several different origin stories attributed to the tradition of hanging a pickle on one’s tree, including one claiming an origination in Germany. This has been largely discounted by those who study such things, and it is now thought to be a German-American tradition created in the late 19th century – perhaps during the Civil War – right here in the US. Yet however it started, the idea remains that on Christmas morning, the first person to find the pickle on the tree will receive an extra present from Santa Claus or (they say) you will have a year of good fortune ahead.

In any case, seeing this pickle candy ornament got me thinking. It has a sour and sweet taste. Some will like it. For others, it might be hard to swallow. And in that tension – stick with me now – we might just have a perfect allegory for Christmas. You see, the story of Christmas is not really one of just lights, triumphant song, and gifts. We celebrate something much more complex. The story of Jesus is both sweet and sour, joyous and sad, easy for some to hold on to and hard for others to dare hope in.

When we look closely at the story itself, when we ponder it perhaps as Mary and Joseph truly experienced it, we witness a couple who had to accept the impossible – a virgin birth. They did so at the risk of accusations of sins such as adultery. This could make Joseph appear the cuckolded fiancé to his peers or one who took advantage of poor, young Mary, thus he would dishonored, a pariah, in an honor-based society. Worse, it perhaps could have resulted in Mary’s stoning for adultery – for a relationship outside of marriage was deemed a reason for death. Who among their family, friends and neighbors would believe such a crazy story as a virgin birth? Despite the risks, they accepted their fate. They trusted God, and therefore, both Mary and Joseph said yes to God.

Then, they faced another challenge – that of the census and its associated taxes. They had to travel to Joseph’s ancestral, tribal home of Bethlehem. They embarked on what was likely a four to seven day journey over about 90-miles. Remember, there were no paved roads, cars, trains, planes, nor were there rest-stops along the way.[i] Lyft and Uber were not options. They traveled on rocky, dirty, dusty paths. They traveled through a land under military occupation by the Romans, who could sometimes randomly be bullies to the native peoples. Not only that, Mary and Joseph also faced the very common risk of rebels and robbers harassing them as they traveled as well.

And let us not forget that Mary traveled even as Jesus’ birth was imminent. She was in her third trimester. If Joseph cared about Mary and the baby, the pace would have likely been slower with many stops for the bathroom, rest, and food. So, some specuilate that the trip might have taken a week traveling at the less than the rocket pace of about 2-mph.[ii] Despite facing many challenges in trusting in the great promise of Jesus, if not experiencing very real fear at the political and religious threats around them, both Mary and Joseph continued to say yes to God. They stepped out bravely in faith, for God had promised to be with them on their journey.

And once they arrived, more challenges appeared. There was no room at the inn. This small, backwater village of Bethlehem did not seem to have the capacity for all those who returned to be counted. They found themselves instead in a stable. Archeology and historical studies in the area indicate these stables were often more like caves. They offered the smallest amount of protection and comfort. Yes, the newborn king was not yet widely celebrated. He was laid somewhat quietly in a manger…a trough for animals, surrounded by noisy animals and filth. No, there were no robes or crowns for Jesus. Luke reports he was wrapped in bands or strips of cloth – essentially “wrapping” Jesus tightly…swaddling him…in what meager things they had.

There’s a common and ancient Christian belief that being born in this cave and wearing his swaddling clothes foreshadow Jesus’ future burial in a stone tomb. As cute as Jesus must have been, as warm as the loved shared between parents and child could ever be, we should not forget why our Messiah came. This innocent baby, born without sin, would be hated by many, find no roof to call his home for the last years of his life, and he would ultimately suffer and die for our sake. (Thus, you will often see Eastern Orthodox icons and ancient European art shockingly portraying Jesus as an infant wrapped tightly within his burial cloth.)

Even as Jesus started his life among us, scripture suggests he and his family were poor. They had no finery. And yet, again, Mary and Joseph made do with what they had. They trusted God to supply their every need, and they shared what they had including all their love with Jesus. Yes, they trusted God with their lives, and despite the many threats and challenges, they sought to live in expectation and hope. (Of course, this doesn’t mean they never cried, or suffered, or felt fear. They were human after all, but the power of such times did not control them. They knew they were in God’s loving hands, and that truth helped them to act free of fear to do the right thing – as that same truth might do for us.)

So, we see that the story of the nativity is in a great part one of threat, struggle, poverty, and suffering…There’s a sourness to it. Our modern sensibilities might not like it, but that is the way it was. That’s the way our lives can be today in part. We might not want to think about the hard things that come with life. We probably prefer the happy, but Jesus came to share our lives fully – even the bad parts, including death – even as he remained our God. And Mary and Joseph? This was a couple who likely experienced much joy, but they also knew what it meant to be a human in a very fallen and unfair world. They, my friends, as great as they were, were much like us.

However, before we lose hope, remember that there is much sweetness in this story too. There proves much reason for joy. For Jesus came as Immanuel, God with us. Jesus has come to ultimately save us from harm and every evil – even our own struggle with sin. And we can also see that Mary and Joseph’s own love and faith sustained them – much as such faithful, loving relationships with others can help empower and sustain us. Mary and Joseph proved stronger due to these social bonds, and so can we.

And we learn as the Gospel unfolds that many others who are oppressed, forgotten, alone, sick or suffering – perhaps again people like us – came to see Jesus as he truly is over time…see him as Mary and Joseph did as the Holy Spirit opens eyes, minds, and hearts. Jesus is not you average baby. He is the Messiah, our Savior, our Redeemer, our way to forgiveness, joy, and everlasting life…He’s meant to be our everything. And because of Jesus’ call for us to be one, these newly enlightened ones sought to be one no matter what they have done or failed to do, and they invited others to be in relationship with Jesus – as we should strive to do.

If that wasn’t enough, the angels remind us of the eternal import of this baby’s birth as they sing, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.” We can’t trust our feelings. We cannot look to our situation or the world for a final clue. No, God loves us so much, God comes to us…as one of the most vulnerable among us…a baby…and angels (God’s messengers) point the way. Our Father in Heaven declares that it is upon us that his favor rests…us! Can you believe it? God in Jesus has come to us and for us. Wow!

The world can seem so daunting at times, perhaps even against us, but it is at Martin Luther observed so long ago now, “The incarnation is proof that God is not against us.” No, as bad as life can get, God always loves us and promises a future filled with hope ahead of us. God comes to us in our need over and over again. Is it any wonder that the shepherds left amazed, and Mary treasured these mysteries and pondered them? There is so much sour in our world. It can be hard to believe that good exists, never mind believe that the baby laying at her breast was God.

Faith is hard. Trusting is a risk. And so sometimes as a human as I face difficulties, I just want to spit all the sour out; throw up my hands and walk away. Even as Advent started, as many of you know, I was reminded of the sting of death as someone incredibly important to me died. And many here have faced their own losses, disappointments, negative diagnoses, financial problems, perhaps even worse this past year. Each of us has a unique story, but I know we are all human in a broken world. Even with faith, life is hard. The imperfections of our world and our life are always present. They remain almost easier to identify than our blessings. They can capture our attention and hold us hostage. Much as our sin can do, our problems might also bind and blind us.

In response, God’s messengers again shout for our attention, “in the town of David a Savior has been born to you,”…for you. In some ways, Christmas seems most especially for the sad ones among us…Those of us walking through a “Bleak Midwinter” can see a light beckoning us on, warming our hearts, and calling us toward trust.[iii] Like Mary and Joseph, understanding that God is Love, a Love that has and will continue to reach out to us, we can seek to trust the promises of God to be with us, and for us, even if we must do so through tears at times.

Thus, no matter who we are or our situations, we, too, can step out in faith as Mary and Joseph once did. Like the shepherds, we might not fully understand, we might struggle to trust, but we can seek this hope we have heard testified to us. We can try to share our experience, strength, and hope with others. For in seeking Jesus with the eyes of faith, we will find that Jesus is already and always will be reaching out to us before we even recognize him – much as he came unnoticed by most of the world on that first Christmas Eve.

I, for one, think we need to both notice his birth and look for Jesus in our lives each day. As a young adult from the Slovak Republic reminded me through a meditation she shared while I faced my own grief, “When we are feeling hopeless, we are not facing the God that is giving us hope, [instead] we are facing the world that is giving us these hopeless feelings.”[iv] In effect, we are believing in the power of the world more than God’s power. We are in a way worshipping the world instead of God, giving it power over our lives. Instead, we have the choice to turn to our God and live.

And so, in both good times and bad, God calls us back to the manger – to take another look. Amidst the sour of this world, the sweet cries of Jesus lying in the manger were calling us by name before we were even born; imploring us to trust in him today and always. Times might be hard, we might feel like we are in a pickle (you knew I had to go there), but through that baby in a manger, we always have access to a hope we can concretely hold onto. Jesus is here. God became human in the flesh. Heaven has broken into our world. In this, we can rejoice. We might only get a foretaste of this glory for now, but life – thanks to Jesus and his promises – remains very sweet indeed. Amen.  


[i] https://aleteia.org/2018/12/18/a-feast-no-longer-celebrated-invites-us-deeper-into-the-bethlehem-journey/

[ii] Gordon College. (December 18, 2020) “Five things you didn’t know about the Christmas story.” https://stories.gordon.edu/5-things-you-didnt-know-about-the-christmas-story

[iii] See Condon, S. (December 17, 2023). Put the sad back in Christmas: Enough with the forced holly jolly. https://mbird.com/holidays/christmas/put-the-sad-back-in-christmas/

[iv] Eva Chalupkova. Lutheran World Federation, Facebook Reel dated December 19, 2023.

Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this post are from the New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition (NRSVue) translation.

© 2023 The Rev. Louis Florio. All content not held under another’s copyright may not be used without permission of the author.

Leave a comment

Filed under Christmas, Sermon

Seeing things as they are (Sermon)

Photo by Boudewijn Boer on Unsplash

This sermon on  Isaiah 5:1-7; 11:1-5 and Mark 12:1-3 was preached at Christ Lutheran Church (Fredericksburg, VA) on the Twenty-fifth Sunday after Pentecost, November 19, 2023. You can also find a recording of this post at my 2 Penny Blog Podcast.

In my work as a volunteer police chaplain or in pastoral counseling, I can run into people with a vision problem. No, they don’t need an eye doctor. Their way of looking at life can be out of focus. The person might suffer from bent thinking where it is like looking at your submerged legs as you stand in the water above. Your legs are the same as they have always been, but you perceive them as losing definition and perhaps they seem disjointed or cut off from the rest of your body. Unfortunately, as humans, as we experience traumas (big or small), or as we seek to control things that aren’t controllable, or as we try to cope with stress or loss in unhealthy ways, our vision of reality tends to be negatively impacted. We don’t see our life, our options, or who we are accurately. Our focus on what’s bad or hard begins to overshadow the goodness of life…and my friends, believe it or not, there is always goodness to be seen…even as we face death. I have seen this as a hospice chaplain.

To be frank, I find these symptoms of an imperfect humanity in a difficult world to be like those of us with post-traumatic stress symptoms. (Sure, maybe the symptoms might not be as severe for everyone, but they are often similar.) Over time, we can wrongly personalize things saying things like, “the world is against me,” “nobody likes me,” or we might believe that “I am the unluckiest person in the world.” Along with negative self-talk, maybe we imagine slight or expect betrayal when there is none. Or, we might simply take on blame when something bad happens to us or those we love even when there is no blame. Things can go wrong even when we do everything perfectly because life isn’t fair. Even Jesus, perfect and without sin, died on a cross. That was pretty unfair to be sure.

Conversely, we might hear a criticism of someone or some group we are associated with, and we allow ourselves to become deeply wounded by something we have no connection to. Those times are examples of personalizing things, but we can also catastrophize things: “If I fail this test, my life will be ruined.,” “If (insert a name) breaks up with me, I have no future.” We begin to see our world simplistically and dualistically. (And by that, I mean we tend to see events as all good or all bad – nothing falls in between.) Life just is not that way.

If this sounds familiar to you, I am not surprised. As humans, we all can feel this way at times. The darkness of this world can whisper in our ears, and we might listen too long. The problems become more significant and life threatening (to one’s own quality of life or concretely a danger to one’s life or others) when we get stuck in this pattern of thinking. We stop seeing the big picture – that life is long. Our life course can change at any time. It is only a bad day, not a bad life. More than that, perhaps more harmful, we forget that we have a God behind us that is bigger than any problems we face, even death. And that God, our God, has promised to love us and care for us always, because we are God’s people. Remember, Jesus actually calls us his family.

When we look at prophetic texts forecasting doom, it is dangerous to view them in isolation. Martin Luther argued (and those who join me for Bible study on Monday nights hear this over and over again), we need scripture to interpret scripture. What we are reading is not meant to be heard in isolation, for it is just part of a much larger, all-encompassing story which isn’t just in the past. This story, God’s love for us, embraces us in the present…even on the worst of days. “God is with us,” Immanuel. We learn this with Jesus…but God was always with those and for those God so lovingly created and called. Most assuredly, you have likely heard someone at some time use such passages to try to scare people straight…you toe the line or suffer in hell eternally, as you deserve….Yet as true as hell and consequences might prove, those kind of threats never worked for me. I just lost hope. It is only God’s love and grace that ultimately turns most lives around.

As we look at Isaiah’s prophecy today, we need to read it with the proper lens and context. Just as we heard the prophet Hosea call the Northern Kingdom of Israel to account, Isaiah’s task was to seek the repentance of the Southern Kingdom of Judah. Yet, the prophet Isaiah begins with a somewhat strange literary motif of his day. His warning is hidden within the guise of an ancient Hebrew love poem.

Long ago, the vineyard was a symbol of a nurturing, sweet, growing love. And so, we hear of God being like a planter. God expected a great deal from the love he planted in the lives of this chosen people. God’s time had been invested selecting the richest soil, digging, pruning, and watering throughout their history and present. To protect them, there would be a watchtower, and hedges and walls (perhaps these represent his power, angels, laws, and of course grace). The ancient vineyard required hard, intentional work for the grapes to flourish (much as with any healthy relationship). Symbolically, the poem represented God’s work and God’s blessing benefitting God’s people…those God loved.

Yet, surrounded by international and natural threats, the people were afraid. They forgot God’s promises. They did not trust them. And so, the people reached out to false gods to help them feel in control and safe – sometimes idol worship and superstition, but also sinful actions and distractions can become idols too. Yes, there was evil in the world striking out at them through the Assyrian and later Babylonian Empires…but they themselves had also torn down the fences and stomped on the grace of God with the daily choices they made. A people who should have born good fruit began to bear rottenness, selfishness, and other sins. Jesus would echo Isaiah in John 15 with his own parable of the vineyard saying, “My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples. As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love.” As with the vineyard prophesy in Mark, Jesus would recall how the people had a tendency to reject the fruit of love from God – not only prophets, but also himself.

Sadly through Isaiah, we learn that Judah has failed to abide in God’s love…failed to love God and neighbor. That’s their primary sin. And so Isaiah’s song or parable of the vineyard will go on to enumerate their sins and consequences to leave no doubt; much like a prosecutor before the judge who is God: Covetousness and greediness of worldly wealth and land where the poor were ignored shall be punished with famine (v. 8-10); rioting, drunkenness, and lives of excess (v. 11, v. 12, v. 22, v. 23) shall be punished with captivity and all the miseries that attend it (v. 13-17); presumption in sin, and defying the justice of God (v. 18, v. 19); confounding the distinctions between virtue and vice, and so undermining the principles of their faith (v. 20); Self-conceit and lack of reliance upon God (v. 21); perverting justice, for which with the other instances of reigning wickedness among them, for these sins a great and general desolation is threatened, which would lay all waste (v. 24-25). This would come to be through a foreign invasion (v. 26-30), referring to the havoc which would come by Assyria’s army and the later Babylonian Empire.[i]

Despite God’s intention of blessing and life, their choices were leading to death. Isaiah warns that Sheol, the place of the dead, shall open its mouth wide and swallow them all. Their own bad choices and lack of vision would see to that. Is it any wonder that the people felt afraid as their world was falling apart…as if they had been abandoned by God? This is so human! Yet, God still longed for them…hoped for them. “Turn to God and live!” prophets would cry out. Still, they tended to blame the messengers or others…anyone but themselves. And so, the Assyrians would come…and then the Babylonians…and finally about six decades of exile and suffering would come as well. In this prophecy of doom and through the shortsightedness of the people, sure, we can see and understand parallels within our own lives. Our similar actions might result in similar consequences, but let’s cast a wider glance. 

As Isaiah shares about the consequences of sin or a fickle faith with his people, he also points the people’s vision toward God. If God didn’t love them, would God have sent prophets to call them back into relationship? And so, he shares his call story in the next chapter. Then, he encourages the King and the people. He proclaims, “the Lord himself will give you a sign. Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son and shall name him Immanuel.” Although Christians see Jesus in this ongoing promise, Isaiah pointed to the birth of a son to inherit the throne as a sign and promise for a future filled with hope in his time. And even as lack of faith will lead to periods of loss and suffering, as all bad choices do at some level, Isaiah urges them not to give up hope. Justice will surely come because God’s love is already at work in their midst. And because God is just, those leaders and powerful who take advantage of or abuse others, and even arrogant Assyria, will all eventually face the consequences of their behaviors and haughtiness, too.

Yet those who remain faithful, who are imperfect but strive for justice and peace, who seek to love God and neighbor, all will be well. All is well, for God always loves them. Even today as we face our problems and pain, Paul, too, assures us that we are already victorious. Why? It is not because of anything we do or don’t do. It is because God has chosen to love us, and Jesus came – not for himself – but for us and our benefit…to do what we cannot…save us.

As we wrestle with harsh realities all around us, God is with us…God promises to be with us! Bad times will pass. Death has lost its sting. Sins can be forgiven, and lives restored. And so today, we jumped a bit forward a bit and also heard from Isaiah as recorded in chapter 11. Professor Michael Chan of Luther Seminary points out, “The concrete expression of this new future is a ruler on whom the spirit will rest (verse 2). Promise comes to Israel in the form of a person—a human king who embodies the best of Israel’s traditions: He is wise and understanding (verse 2), powerful in war (verses 2, 4), able to judge for the benefit of the poor (verses 3-4), and obedient to God (verses 2, 5).”[ii] God will elect leaders to lead them toward a more peaceable kingdom. More than that, beyond Isaiah’s own hope perhaps, Christ will come. Later Christians, struggling as Jewish believers before them had, will see Jesus’ work hidden within these same passages.

Pastor Chan goes on, “At the end of the day, Isaiah 11:1-9 does allow us to celebrate Jesus’ ministry in the past and especially in the present, but the text also urges us to the place of intercession, where we long for creation’s promised destiny, as a place where peace, justice, and grace have the final word.”[iii]

You see, the promised new heaven and new earth with Jesus’ return is still yet to come. Sin and death though defeated are in their death throes around us. Life can still hurt. People can still fail us…We can fail ourselves. Crosses might yet need to be carried. Still, never fear. Although sometimes hidden or hard to see clearly, God is here. You are loved. And nothing, not even death, will have the final say. For through our faith and baptism, don’t you see, we are part of God’s story. Despite how things might look at times, God loves us and has promised to never let us go. Even now, God is doing a new thing. God is leading us home. Amen.


[i] Matthew Henry Commentary as found at Biblestudytools.com http://www.biblestudytools.com/commentaries/matthew-henry-complete/isaiah/5.html

[ii] Chan, M.J. (November 19, 2023). Working Preacher. Commentary on Isaiah 5:1-7; 11:1-5 as downloaded athttps://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/narrative-lectionary/isaiahs-vineyard-song-2/commentary-on-isaiah-51-7-111-5-3.

[iii] Ibid.

1 Comment

Filed under Sermon, Uncategorized

Beyond our tribal nature

This sermon on  Ruth 1:1-17 and Mark 3:33-35 was preached at Christ Lutheran Church (Fredericksburg, VA) on the Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost, October 15, 2023. You can also find a recording of this post at my 2 Penny Blog Podcast.

Mother-in-laws can get a bad rap. True, sometimes their relationships with their son or daughter-in-laws may be difficult, and mother-in-law jokes abound, yet they can be a gift. I’m fortunate that my own mother-in-law has always supported and encouraged me even if my own mother did not at times. Now, she’s not afraid to challenge me, but she always does so with dignity, love, and grace. So, I feel very blessed. That is why I often introduce her as my favorite mother-in-law (she’s my only one), and I jokingly tell people I am her favorite son-in-law. This doesn’t always go over big with my brother-in-laws in Pennsylvania and Ohio, but she reminds me that I am her favorite son-in-law in Virginia. She loves and appreciates each of us as if we are all her favorite one.

Surely, defining and understanding family and tribal relationships is not always easy. Getting along with others never truly is. And so, Jesus often uses familial language in very broad terms. He encourages his disciples to think of one another as brothers and sisters…siblings of God. And on the cross, he turns to a beloved disciple and his mother, and gifts them to one another: “Woman, behold your son!” Then He said to the disciple, “Behold your mother!” (see John 19:25-29). He does not want his widowed mother to be alone. It is a very moving scene. His teachings stretch the common understanding of the time surrounding tribe and family.

In indigenous, tribal populations, adoption was and remains common. There were mechanisms and rituals to adopt people into the tribe and family, and in some cases, a murderer might even be adopted into a family to replace the son or daughter who had died. Tribes throughout the earth often had mechanisms to create extended or what scholars might call “fictive family.” It was good for society and individuals to have connection. This broad idea of family reaches from ancient tribal times into Jesus’ world, and into our own time. This practice crosses cultures, including Jewish culture, although with varied rules. I’d wager many of us here today are god-parents or “aunties” or “uncles” to people of which we have no blood relationship. I have twenty-three people who love me as their uncle and call me that – eight of which have no blood relationship. When it comes down to it, what defines family is not laws, culture, or social practices. It rests on a decision to love another person as family. That’s it. We choose to love.

Sure, family is important sociologically. Tribal and national identities in their best sense may serve to unite and protect us. Yet, in our DNA, perhaps reflecting the realities of a fallen world, some genetic and sociological studies suggest that even infants are designed to inherently trust those who look like them more than those who don’t, and this might extend into adulthood.[i] If these studies prove true, some suggest this could reflect an instinct for tribal relationships built into our survival skills. Outsiders (those who look different) rightly or wrongly can be viewed as a potential threat (outside the “tribe”). Certainly, sociological impacts and experiences can influence this too, fermenting racism and other forms of hatred. Sin can play upon our human nature – magnifying it negatively even when some traits might have been implanted in us to help protect us in a dangerous world. 

Upon reflection, we see a tension here. There might be an instinctual, fallen tug on us to limit who we see as neighbors or family, but God wants more for us. We can be tempted to dehumanize those who are against us, but Jesus teaches us another way. All the while, God pulls us toward reconciliation and trust – if not unity. That’s God’s promised goal. And yet, the ancient Israelites often interpreted the Ten Commandments application quite tribally. You shall not steal, or murder, or covet another’s property unless perhaps it was someone in a non-Israelite tribe. This ethical construct proved true among many indigenous populations too, including Native American tribes. It wasn’t unique. It was conventional thought.

A lot of this tribal thinking had to do with interpretation, context, and understanding. Familial and tribal relationships were seen through the lens of a dangerous world, and so although exceptions were made, these boundaries tended to be quite strong. Yet if you look deeper at the Mosaic Law, the call was always there for kindness to the foreigners, poor and outcasts among the Israelites. Despite this, in Jesus’ time, outsiders could still be looked upon and treated as an “other” – there were some people with less rights socially, or they became someone yoiu should distance oneself from in order to maintain religious purity, safety, or help ensure cultural, political or personal survival.

In response, Jesus stretches this human understanding toward the divine’s own. He ate with outsiders. He forgave serious sinners. Heroes in his stories could be from the hated Samaritans or Canaanites. When asked about the identity of our neighbors so that we could love them, Jesus interpreted this in the most open way possible. He taught neighbors were anyone around us, regardless of their ethnic, religious, or socio-economic status. When asked who his followers should treat like siblings, an even closer social status, Jesus answers, “Whoever does God’s will is my brother and sister and mother.” Again…not just someone who believes exactly as I do, but those who do God’s will are our siblings.

In life, relationships are complicated, and few families don’t experience discord over politics, inheritance, or even who loves who more at times. Families remain necessary in a difficult world, but they can have issues. These past years and days sadly remind us that nations can be necessary due to very real dangers. And yet, as a fallen humanity, we don’t always love God or our neighbors as God intended. In return, some family members or neighbors can mean us harm or become toxic to us. Despite our best efforts, ancient tribal animosities may rise within us, and wars might start causing people to argue over who started what…and thus we hurt innocents all along our way.

True, God never called us to be doormats. Sometimes, to turn the other cheek means we turn and walk away. Yet at other times, many Christian theologians (those not explicitly pacisfist) tend to argue that force might be necessary at times – the most limited force possible with the least number of innocents lost…yet force, nonetheless. In any war, even the best of wars, innocents will die. As a former police officer and soldier trained to use force, with friends and acquaintances who have used lethal force, I know that such force can leave a mark on a person’s soul. Moral injury (which is when one feels they have acted outside their conscience or moral compass) is real. I deal with that at times counseling others as a chaplain. And our Orthodox siblings even invite soldiers to confess as a healing medicine no matter how just a conflict. They do so because the best of wars is interwoven with the stain of human sin – always. Our brother’s blood can be heard crying out to us from the ground, like a voice calling for revenge, as it did when Caine killed Able (Gen. 4:10). There is just something inherently wrong with war and killing people even when necessary in a fallen, messed up, dangerous world. It is never God’s hope for us, our families, or the world.

And so, wars may come whether we wish it or not. Violence might visit our household at any time, because people can be overcome by sin and do evil things toward us and the one’s entrusted to our care. We, too, can err. Yet as we seek to discern our own call in response to the realities around us, whether pacifist or warrior or somewhere in between, Jesus’ perhaps hardest challenge to human reason remains. How can we best love even our enemy?

This past week, I have had many ask my opinion on the recent, horrific terrorism and resulting conflict in Israel. I don’t know the full answer. Perhaps, I don’t really have any answers in a situation that is embedded in centuries of ethnic, political, and religious struggles. Yet, I do know that terrorism, racism, antisemitism, and any calls for genocide or war crimes must be clearly and unequivocally condemned…always. Facing this, we are to seek to love everyone – especially the most vulnerable among us – and always pray for our enemies. From the Mosaic Laws, prophetic teachings, and Jesus’ own words, we are seek to show mercy even as we strive for justice…even when fighting for life and death.

So, as the Lutheran World Federation has done, we can urge all sides to value the innocent, respect life, and uphold international law.[ii] For when all is said and done, Jesus was sent to offer salvation for all people, and the Lord intends to bring all peoples to himself. Some might reject Jesus…some might hate us…try to hurt or kill us…but forgiveness, mercy, and love are Christ’s work among us even now…This is God’s will that is trying to work through us. Yet, it remains a tough go…it can seem an impossibility.

And so perhaps it is a gift that the Narrative Lectionary draws our eyes to the very ancient story of Ruth and its possibilities this day. The story is from the time when Judges ruled the Jewish tribes. (Judges, you might recall, were like chieftains of the Jewish tribes before the monarchy. Some were prophetic and spiritual, and some were great warriors just as with the Lakota I worked and lived with.) Those days were a chaotic time. The Tribes were free from slavery. They were finally in the Promised Land, but they were not always good to one another. Also, enemies still abounded because they had not fully defeated the resident tribes as God ordered. Despite the direct commands of God (the Ten Commandments) and all that Moses had taught in his law applying those commandments, people still flirted with foreign gods and did not love their neighbor. And so, the Book of Judges tells us that it was a morally questionable time, “In those days,” it says, “there was no king in Israel.” (One might also argue that God was not even appropriately king of their lives.) And it goes on, “Everyone did what was right in his own eyes” (Judges 21:25).

And yet in the face of this reality, we have this mother-in-law and daughter-in-law lifted up to us for our examination. They are of different tribes (Jewish and Moabite), and despite this, they boldly hold onto one another in love as family. Our Jewish siblings often read this story on the Feast of Shavuot (also known as Pentecost, celebrated fifty days after Passover). It is a time when they remember the gift of the Law (the Ten Commandments) given to Moses. (We Christians tend to remember the gift of the Spirit arriving on Pentecost.)

For her part, Ruth, the non-Jew, receives and accepts God as her God and in effect promises to live by the Torah – receives the Law as her own. The promises of God thus become her gift as well through faith. In another parallel with the feast, the story happens during the harvest, and the feast gives thanks to God for God’s bounty. It is an ancient and surprising story thought to originate in the Judges period and was orally transmitted until written down after the Babylon exile had ended. (I’d encourage you to read the complete story at home this week. It is short, but very engaging and informative.)   

Ruth’s name means “compassionate friend,” and as is often the case with ancient tribal names, she is just that. Naomi had married a Moabite, as had her now deceased son, and that’s how Ruth and she came into relationship despite being from different peoples. Naomi wanted to accept her fate among her Jewish people. For her part, Ruth could have gone back to her own people, but she feared Naomi might starve or come to harm. So, in the face of danger, she stays regardless of consequences. She stays out of love.

In a patriarchal time, they have no husbands and no sons. They have no one to legally or culturally represent or protect them. They have no formal social safety net, but they do have the law of the Lord which calls for the people to love widows, orphans, and aliens. They have allowances for gleaning fileds to help care for for those in need. On top of that, the Mosaic code calls for a Redeemer (a Goel). A Redeemer is a person who, as the nearest relative of someone, is charged with the duty of restoring that person’s rights and avenging wrongs done to him or her. This duty and eventual love of Boaz, a faithful and observant Jew, becomes a mechanism for Ruth’s formal adoption into the people of Israel. It happens as he comes to see the inner beauty, love, and faithfulness of Ruth underneath any family or tribal name.

As I said, this story was likely written down upon the return of the exiled community. They came back to a land where only a small, faithful remnant remained, and Jewish women and men had come to marry into other tribes. It was a hot button issue of sorts at the time. In addressing this historic reality, A Jewish resource states, “Rabbis use her story to show that true ‘Jewishness’ is judged not by ancestry, but by acceptance of God and the mitzvot [commands of the Torah]. Indeed, it is from this convert’s line,” they teach, “that the savior of the Jewish people must be born.”[iii]

One might say that she was saved by grace through faith in the one true God, the faith of Abraham, and we as Christians believe that the ultimate Savior, Jesus has come. You should remember that as time unfolds, Ruth becomes the great-grandmother of King David and ultimately an ancestor of Jesus. Yes, even Jesus was not purely Jewish. (How appropriate for a person who has come to save the entire world, regardless of tribe or family status.)

For Jewish believers and Christians alike, Ruth is a model of steadfast love and mercy. In Hebrew, this is called hesed. It is loving kindness often offered to those who do not deserve it. It is love for love’s sake, As we wrestle with our anger or fear, as we face evil in the world or the hearts of others, perhaps we should seek to remember Ruth’s story. It challenges us not to sin in our anger, or exact revenge instead of justice, or ignore the suffering even of our enemies. For God hopes they will become part of out family, too. One seminary professor writes, “Like many other Old and New Testament passages (Exodus 4, Joshua 2, 2 Samuel 11, Acts 10:34-5, Romans 2:14-5), [the Book of Ruth] shows us that loyalty and faithfulness includes us among God’s people, not biology, genetics, culture, or history.”[iv] For whether we want it or not, always like it or not, God is calling us to ultimately live like family with one another.

So, tough love might sometimes be needed. Separation for a time for the sake of safety might be required in certain circumstances. Consequences, justice, or even war come to pass as needed. Yet, empathy, compassion, and love – no matter if one deserves it or not – always remains our ultimate call from God. Hesed should inform any action.

Yes, I know that we all will struggle with this as a fallen humanity prone to sin and holding grudges. True, we might never clearly see such an idyllic world come to pass in our lifetime. And still, God invites us to join in his holy efforts. Christ wills to draw all people to himself. The Holy Spirit ferments communion and seeks to transform the heart of everyone in love.

Whether others do or not, we are asked to strive to make hesed a reality and our ethical norm for all our actions…to seek to live like Naomi and Ruth. No matter how hopeless it sometimes seems; we are asked to hope in and live for God. For this is God’s will, and someday it will come to passs. Amen.


[i] Although still debated, for just one such study as an example, visit: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC2566511/#:~:text=Whereas%20our%20findings%20show%20that,Caucasian%20infants%20display%20a%20novelty.

[ii] Find it here: https://lutheranworld.org/news/israel-and-palestine-civilians-must-be-protected-and-hostages-released?fbclid=IwAR14oZVrD0dJeCv0s85URHIL0oPE7Uj36PadcsO4LPC-c2zEVGwtw1Ij2z8

[iii] See the entry for “Ruth” in the Jewish Virtual Library at https://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/ruth

[iv] See https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/narrative-lectionary/ruth-3/commentary-on-ruth-11-17-3

Leave a comment

Filed under Sermon, Uncategorized

I will try to trust in God

Original image by Annie Spratt on Unsplash. Used by permission.

[Job cried out,] “Though he kill/slay/murder me, yet will I trust in him” (Job 13:15a).

The world seems a scary place right now, filled with violence, fear, and grief for many. (To some extent, this is always true, but it is harder for me to ignore evil as I write.) Hamas terrorists have just mercilessly attacked Israeli civilians. Israel in return is preparing to enter Gaza. I’ve seen some people call for a nuclear response. I’ve witnessed neighbors turn on neighbor. War might spread. Things are grim, and we might feel a bit like Job. “Is God against us? Why are we suffering? Where is God?”

Evil can be prevalent in the world and capture our vision at times. It can blind us to God’s love, but we are promised by Jesus that God is always reaching out to save us. As a Christian song (Hallelujah, You are Good, by Steven Curtis Chapman) proclaims to God in an early version, “You are with us, You are for us, Hallelujah, You are good.” This song was written sometime after the musician had lost his beloved daughter in an accident. A sibling backed over her as she played in the driveway, and his daughter died.

What kind of faith is this that can trust even when one’s heart is broken? It is the faith we are invited to share. It is a faith in a God who promises to bind up the injured, heal the sick, and free the captives. It is faith in a God who comforted Joseph in prison and freed his descendants and extended family from slavery. It is faith in a God who was willing to die for us, so that we can truly live.

Yes, as the song says, faith will give way to fear at times. We won’t always feel God near, and what we dread most might come to pass (and with it tears). Yet, Steven Curtis Chapman and his family decided to seek to trust God’s heart, a divine heart that seeks to embrace us in love and give us new life. This is a bit of the faith of Job who lost all his family. There was no good reason for this evil and loss. Job could not understand. He was in shock and despair. Despite his tears and pain, he worshipped God anyway. He strove to trust, and he recognized evil does not come from God, a God who we learn from Jesus is only love. No, God is our Comforter, and God will be made manifest to us in times like these. “Even now my witness is in heaven; my advocate is on high” (Job 16:19).

I don’t know answers to the pains of this world – perhaps only hints at best – but I know our Redeemer is alive and lives for us. We are told this by God repeatedly. And I know as the Body of Christ, called, claimed, and baptized, we must remind ourselves and others amidst our pain that God is with us always. We can show this through words and deeds as we seek to share hope with the hopeless – even as we might struggle with hope ourselves.

Facing the calamities of his own time, a prophet once said on God’s behalf, “Remember the former things of old; for I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me” (Isa. 46:9). Age to age, God remains the same, and it is this same God who loves us now. And so, with Job, I place my “hand over my mouth.” I will try to wait, watch, listen, and trust. I will seek love my neighbor as myself. Death has already lost, and in Christ, we have already won. Hallelujah, God is good. God is ours. And may we never forget, we remain God’s forever. This truth can give us courage.

Originally submitted for publishing in the November newsletter of Christ Lutheran Church, Fredericksburg, VA.

© 2023 The Rev. Louis Florio. All content not held under another’s copyright may not be used without permission of the author.

Steven Curtis Chapman’s song….

https://www.facebook.com/plugins/video.php?height=314&href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2Fsaddlebackchurch%2Fvideos%2F10155101538943544%2F&show_text=false&width=560&t=0

Leave a comment

Filed under Pastoral Letter

St. Joseph’s Day: Faith & food go well together

The Holy Family in Egypt, Coptic Orthodox icon

Most everyone in the United States recognizes St. Patrick’s Day (March 17) as a day for fun and wearing green. The genesis of our modern celebration comes from the many past Irish immigrants to the United States. We can trace the celebration’s origins back to New York in 1762 when Irish soldiers serving in the British military marched through the city to commemorate the “holy day,” giving rise to one of the most famous parades in the world.[i] Yet at its heart, St. Patrick’s Day is a religious feast day on the liturgical calendar. In Ireland, families traditionally go to church and have festive dinners. Although to be frank, the American style of celebration (too often centered on drinking beer to excess) has begun to impact Ireland over the last decades.

However, St. Patrick’s Day is not the only big day during this coming week. Just two days later (March 19), we mark the religious Feast of St. Joseph. Like the story of St. Patrick’s Day, Italian immigrants maintained and expanded upon traditions from home, as did Czechs, Poles, and many others who are inspired by St. Joseph. In many Italian communities, St. Joseph’s Day is HUGE. Reasons for this affection vary. There are indeed mythic if not superstitious stories of people saved from famine, shipwreck, or other calamity when they asked for St. Joseph’s blessing. Although we Lutherans reject the petitioning saints[ii] for aid since the Reformation, Lutherans still have Joseph on our liturgical calendars on March 19. The Church gives God thanks for Joseph’s loving life and witness of faith, and since at least the 9th Century, Joseph has been honored with the titles of Guardian, Educator, or Adoptive Father of our Lord.

With the feasts close association to the Italian community, how do people traditionally celebrate? Well, some cities offer special worship, festivals, or parades. Italians in New Orleans will have their parade on March 25th this year. Bostonians, near where I grew up, wait until July for their major festival. With St. Joseph’s Day falling on a Sunday in 2023, some will celebrate on the following Monday.

As they celebrate St. Joseph’s Day, people often wear red in the United States. I’ve not been able to determine why. I suspect it might be related to Joseph’s being a patron of workers in Catholicism. Workers movements often wear red, and as a carpenter (or builder) himself[iii], St, Joseph has been historically held up in opposition to Communism. In 1955, an additional feast day was declared by Pope Pius XII and is celebrated on May 1, International Workers’ Day (or May Day), rebranded as the separate Feast of St. Joseph the Worker.[iv]

Yet in light of his role in the Holy Family, people often seek to celebrate “family” as they remember St. Joseph. As they gather, families might create large St. Joseph Tables (or St. Joseph Altars) with three tiers of food, three representing the Trinity. These are sometimes created in a cross shape. People place flowers, limes, wine, fava beans, cakes, breads, cookies, and other meatless dishes (due to the feast day falling during Lent), as well as zeppole, an Italian pastry consisting of a deep-fried dough ball of varying size. Zeppole is often topped with powdered sugar or filled with custard, jelly, cannoli-style pastry cream, or a butter-and-honey mixture. In lieu of zeppole, a treat popular in Naples, Sicilians tend to prefer Sfingi, donuts that are often made from a dough of flour, sugar, eggs, and ricotta and rolled in sugar.

Why so many pastries? There’s an old legend that while exiled in Egypt, Joseph supported his family by selling…pancakes! (This was not necessarily our modern dish but suggests a Middle Eastern bread-like meal like pancakes.) Indeed, March 19th serves as Father’s Day in Italy. Originating in Tuscany and Umbria, Frittelle di San Giuseppe, a fried rice “pancake” (more like a small American doughnut), is now often served throughout the nation. If you are afraid to make such traditional Italian pastries and treats yourself, they are usually available on St. Joseph’s Day at local Italian deli-bakeries. Just ask. If that’s not for you, why not just have a pancake supper with your family?

Embodying sacred stories in celebration help create wonderful memories, but they also can plant seeds of faith. Thus, many Italians prepare special Lenten dishes that include breadcrumbs. The crumbs are meant to remind us of the Joseph’s vocation as a carpenter. You can also find artisan breads of varied shapes: a Latin cross (to remember Christ’s sacrifice), a baby (to honor Joseph’s role in the Holy Family), St. Joseph’s staff (legend has it that St. Joseph’s staff blossomed into a lily, a symbol both of life and death), a purse (a reminder to give alms), a sheaf of wheat (reminding us of John 12:24-26 but turned upside down serves as St. Joseph’s Beard), and many more.[v]

Due to the Joseph-related stories involving famine in Sicily, food proves a large part of the festival. Yet it isn’t a day for self-indulgence, hospitality is the goal along with providing food to any hungry neighbors. Making donations to help meet the needs of others is a common, important family or congregational activity. You might run across congregations inviting you to come help fill “St. Joseph Bags” for the hungry. People might give extra alms. So, perhaps you might like to make a special donation to a food bank, pantry, or other service organization this year? Donating to enCircle (formally Lutheran Family Services of Virginia) might be a worthy charity as they do so much work supporting families and foster care children.

Whatever you do to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, St. Joseph’s Day, or any holiday, I encourage you to seek activities that nurture relationship, teach and affirm our faith, and serve our neighbor. If you have some fun as well, that’s ok too.

For those who want to an authentic dish, you can find a recipe for one version of Pasta di San Giuseppe (Pasta of St. Joseph) that I used last year here: https://orderisda.org/culture/our-recipes/authentic-st-josephs-day-pasta/

Image property of Italian Sons and Daughters of America.

[i] O’Brian, S. (March 7, 2023). How did St. Patrick die. Irish Central. Downloaded on March 8 at https://www.irishcentral.com/roots/history/how-did-saint-patrick-die.

[ii] Lutherans do have feast days to remember the life and Christian witness of remarkable people, but they serve as models for us, “that we may follow their faith and good works, according to our calling.” We do not “pray to saints” (ask for their intercession), as “we have an Advocate with the Father” (1 John 2:1). Learn more by reading Article XXI, Of the Worship of the Saints, in the Augsburg Confession: https://bookofconcord.org/augsburg-confession/of-worship-of-saints/ You might also like to read Article II, Of the Mass, in the Smalcald Articles: https://bookofconcord.org/smalcald-articles/ii/of-the-mass/

[iii] Although commonly called a carpenter, it might not be that simple. “The word the Gospels use is téktōn, a common term used for artisans, craftsmen, and woodworkers (so, yes, it can translate as “carpenter”), but also, interestingly, it can refer to stonemasons, builders, construction workers, or even to those who excel in their trade and are able to teach others (as in the Italian maestro).” See Esparaza, D. (February 8, 2019). Aletia. Were Jesus and Joseph Really Carpenters as downloaded on March 14, 2023 from https://aleteia.org/2019/02/08/were-jesus-and-joseph-really-carpenters/

[iv] See https://www.sju.edu/news/10-facts-about-st-joseph-honor-his-feast-day

[v] Roman Catholic Diocese of Charlotte (2020). St. Joseph’s Table: An Italian tradition as downloaded at https://yearofstjoseph.org/devotions/st-joseph-table/


Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this post are from the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) translation.

Originally published in the March 14, 2023 weekly newsletter, the Hub, of Christ Lutheran Church, Fredericksburg, VA, it was expanded upon for this post.

© 2023 The Rev. Louis Florio. All content not held under another’s copyright may not be used without permission of the author.

1 Comment

Filed under Pastoral Letter, saints

What did St. Patrick know that we should too?

Ring of Kerry, Photo by Nils Nedel on Unsplash. Used by permisson.

You can find a recording of this post at my 2 Penny Blog Podcast.

There’s an old prayer attributed to St. Patrick. As with many of Martin Luther’s own hymns, the style mimics that of the culture around him. It echoes druidic incantations of the day for protection on a journey. Invoking the Trinity and reflecting the many signs of blessing that can help us greet any new day with confidence, his long prayer ends with these words:

Christ with me,

Christ before me,

Christ behind me,

Christ in me,

Christ beneath me,

Christ above me,

Christ on my right,

Christ on my left,

Christ when I lie down,

Christ when I sit down,

Christ when I arise,

Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,

Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,

Christ in every eye that sees me,

Christ in every ear that hears me.

I arise today

Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,

Through belief in the Threeness,

Through confession of the Oneness

of the Creator of creation.

The prayer is known as St. Patrick’s Breastplate. Translated into English verse by Cecil Frances Alexander in 1889, it inspired the hymn “I bind unto Myself Today” found in our worship book (ELW #450).

St. Patrick had quite a challenging life. Although some details might be more mythic than truth due to his living so long ago (5th Century AD), it is generally accepted that he was born the son of a decurion (Senator and tax collector) in a Roman city of Britain. His grandfather, Potitus, is reported to have been a priest from Bonaven Tabernia, but it appears Patrick did not actively practice the Christian faith as a youth.

According to the Confession of St. Patrick, he was kidnapped when young and enslaved by Irish pirates. Escaping after six years as a slave in Ireland (perhaps with signs of divine intervention depending on the story), he made it back home. Patrick went on to become an active Christian and eventually a priest. That might have been enough of a story on its own, but one day, he had a vision. He wrote, “I saw a man coming, as it were from Ireland. His name was Victoricus, and he carried many letters, and he gave me one of them. I read the heading: ‘The Voice of the Irish’. As I began the letter, I imagined in that moment that I heard the voice of those very people who were near the wood of Foclut, which is beside the western sea—and they cried out, as with one voice: ‘We appeal to you, holy servant boy, to come and walk among us.’” Despite his past enslavement, Patrick ended up returning to Ireland as a missionary and bishop.

We cannot know all the struggles of faith and other tribulations Patrick faced during his lifetime, but his words and example can be instructive for us. Whatever our situation, trust Christ is with you. Whatever your call, know that Christ desires to be reflected in your work. In all our relationships, seek to love others, including our enemies. In striving to do this, even imperfectly, our own lives can become a song which glorifies God. With Patrick, and his predecessor, St. Paul, we can trust through the gift of faith, “it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me” (Galatians 2:20). Walking among others, remember, Christ will be there too. 

Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this post are from the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) translation.

Originally published in the March 2023 newsletter of Christ Lutheran Church, Fredericksburg, VA.

© 2023 The Rev. Louis Florio. All content not held under another’s copyright may not be used without permission of the author.

1 Comment

Filed under Pastoral Letter, Uncategorized

Burn brightly

St. Blaise (1740), Maria-Trost Church, Berg bei Rohrbach

Today, not on our Lutheran calendar but celebrated by many other Christians, is yet another feast day connected to spring and growing light, the Feast of Saint Blaise (pronounced blayz).

Blaise is considered to be an historic figure, but there has grown a great deal of myth around his life. A physician and bishop of Sebastea in historical Armenia, he died as a martyr on February 3 sometime around 316 AD. He is remembered for many miraculous (if perhaps mythic) healing stories to include saving a child from chocking on a chicken bone while on his way to his own judgement and death. He is said to have died by beheading.

And so being the day after Candlemas and with his being associated with stories about the throat, some early Christians through to this day often have their own throats blessed, sometimes while two candles blessed on Candlemas are layed in a crosslike shape upon their throat. Indeed in the Middle Ages, Blaise was considered one of “the Fourteen Holy Helpers” who during the time of the plague became popular for intercession for everything from a headache to an unexpected death.

Photo credit: Figurines of the Fourteen Holy Helpers by an unknown artist, Chapel on the Michaelsberg, Untergrombach, Germany, by H. Zell, CC BY-SA 3.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0>, via Wikimedia Commons

These kind of practices – and the sometimes mythic aspect of these fourteen saints themselves – often caused them to diminish in stature following the Protestant Reformation. Our Augsburg Confession, Article XX1 teaches us: “Of the Worship of Saints they teach that the memory of saints may be set before us, that we may follow their faith and good works, according to our calling, as the Emperor may follow the example of David in making war to drive away the Turk from his country. For both are kings. But the Scripture teaches not the invocation of saints or to ask help of saints, since it sets before us the one Christ as the Mediator, Propitiation, High Priest, and Intercessor.” We remember and give thanks for the example of all the saints whether on a list for recognition or not, including Blaise, but even as we might venerate and honor them, we seek to reject superstition and, as Lutherans, we do not invoke them.

For his part, Martin Luther, seeing many abuses and evidence of magical thinking and idolotry in some cases, argued, “No one can deny that by such saint worship we have now come to the point where we have actually made utter idols of the Mother of God and the saints, and that because of the service we have rendered and the works we have performed in their honor we have sought comfort more with them than with Christ Himself. Thereby faith in Christ has been destroyed. [E 28:415; quoted in MartinLuther, What Luther Says, Vol. III, ed. Ewald Martin Plass (St Louis: Concordia Publishing House, 1959), 1254; cf. LW 36:299-300]. There is no explicit biblical citation supporting invocation of the saints (so Christians might disagree), but a larger concern for Martin and the earliest Reformers remained our human tendency for magical thinking.

Many great saints and martyrs have long been forgotten by the world, but they are never forgotten by God. Not everyone makes a liturgical list. Some through no fault of their own have become wrapped in myth. Yet, through the gift of faith, the legacy of any saint can instruct or inspire us in some way. They can serve as great examples for us. So, rest in peace, Blaise. Your efforts still burn brightly…not because of what you did or failed to do, but because the light of Christ chose to shine brightly through you love.

Through remembering the saints and martyrs, Jesus reminds us, “In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” With God’s help, may our lives burn brightly, too.

Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this post are from the New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition (NRSVue) translation.

© 2023 The Rev. Louis Florio. All content not held under another’s copyright may not be used without permission of the author.

Leave a comment

Filed under Church History, saints

What does Lent mean?

Photo by Francisco Gonzalez on Unsplash. Used by permission.

You can find a recording of this post at my 2 Penny Blog Podcast.

As Lent approaches once again, I recall my return to the Church during a similar Lent about thirty years ago. As I have already mentioned in worship, life had banged me up pretty well. Growing up, I faced many challenges, and as a young police officer, I was often subjected to violence, loss, and death. Indeed, I escaped near death experiences several times. Like many young adults, I had also made some bad choices, but I had likewise allowed myself to drift aimlessly from the faith community. I was easily distracted from faith matters by what seemed more accessible and important – things of this world. My faith, for the most part, had become just words.

My heart was sick although I did not realize it. When things seemed the worst, memories of what I had learned in campus ministry, youth groups, and even long-ago Sunday school classrooms spoke to me. These memories of relationship and seeds planted called me back. I was able to contact some of these past people who had befriended me on my earlier faith journey, and they became touchstones to help me find my way back to Christ. A lot of life has happened since, and it hasn’t often been easy. Yet with God’s help and the help of others, my “face has been set like flint” (Isa. 50:7) toward something greater than myself, a God who loves me.

Perhaps I experienced a synthesizing of faith more than a conversion, as I was baptized and grew up in the Church, but something significant and life-changing happened on the evening of March 7, 1992. (Ash Wednesday was March 4th that year.) I decided whatever the implications, I would commit to follow wherever Jesus led. Lent was a perfect time of year for this new start. As a community and individuals, we join Jesus as he sets his face toward Jerusalem, and we are asked to turn to the Lord and live. In worship, we often hear of prophets speaking of a God who, although wounded by our indifference if not antipathy, only has love for us. We learn of Jesus who seeing the marginalized and lost, rather than judging them, befriends them as his own and heals them. Through scripture and song, we discover a God who gives all out of love for us. By his death, with Christ’s last breath, we experience this. Jesus doesn’t curse us, but instead asks, “Father forgive them, they know not what they do” (Luke 23:24).

Lent is not meant to be a burden. It isn’t about feeling sorry for ourselves or judging ourselves harshly. It serves like a voice in the wilderness where God uses the Church community to call us home. Years can take us far away, but no matter how far we have strayed from our path following Jesus, somewhere in the depths of our heart, the Spirit is calling. Do we notice this quiet whisper of our name? This Lent, I hope each of us experience or rediscover the deepest meaning of Lent. God loves us and wants us to come home. God wants us to love like Jesus loves us – with more than words.

Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this post are from the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) translation.

Originally published in the February 2023 newsletter of Christ Lutheran Church, Fredericksburg, VA.

© 2023 The Rev. Louis Florio. All content not held under another’s copyright may not be used without permission of the author.

1 Comment

Filed under Lent, Pastoral Letter

Jesus was baptized for you

You can find a recording of this sermon on my blog’s companion podcast located here.

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

Today’s sermon is a little different. You see, I have been reminiscing a bit more than usual through the holidays and with the New Year. I think that’s not uncommon at such times. Then, the Facebook memories function went ahead and reminded me of a momentous day in my life. It is hard for me to believe, but as I reflected upon today’s text about Christ’s baptism, I remembered my own…60 years ago, this coming December 2023. Wow, it blows my mind that so much time has passed, and yet it remains one of the most profound and sometimes underappreciated events of my life in my busyness. Hopefully, your baptism is recognized for its profound and lasting impact, but I must confess that I sometimes don’t stop to remember the power of my own.

Now, I am not trying to suggest you remember the day in detail. Afterall, I certainly don’t. I was only 11 days old. Yet I do know the stories and people involved thanks to my family. For one thing, with baptism, I officially received my “Christian name.” That’s commonly called being “christened.” In Martin Luther’s time, one practice was to be named after the “saint of the day” on the liturgical calendar. So, Martin, born on November 10, is named after St. Martin of Tours, the saint remembered on Luther’s baptism day of November 11. As is a tradition among some Italian families, my dad was named after his maternal grandfather, Luigi Marini, and Luigi after his maternal grandfather before that. The name was ultimately in honor of a popularly venerated saint, Aloysius of Gonzaga (in Latin). He is more commonly called Luigi of Gonzaga in Italian. Born in the US, my dad’s name was Americanized, so you narrowly escaped having a Pastor Luigi standing before you today. Yet with my name, in my baptism, I was encouraged to represent myself well. For though it and my life, I represent the legeacy of my genetic family, my Christian family today and throoughout time, and Christ’s own name. I come to bear the name of Jesus Christ. That’s no small thing.

And thus, as I was baptized, I was also gifted two wonderful, loving godparents, ultimately what we often call sponsors today…to be with me at my baptism, to speak for me, and there, promise to love, help, and guide me (the best that they could) into a life of faith. (In the old days, there might even be an expectation of adoption if the parents died, but that’s not the case today.) Arthur Coughlin, my godfather, was a dear friend of my dad’s. He ultimately co-owned one of the most successful sporting goods stores in the Boston area, Holovak and Coughlin. Yet what he was most known for was his deep religious faith that one could see evident in the way he walked through daily life, in his long-lasting friendships, and perhaps most especially from his generosity. He and his business donated lots of money and time to those in need. And, he was among one of the first people to sense a special call by God in my life. I remember clearly the exact moment he asked me about this at my eldest sister’s wedding…He had seen me help at the service, and refelcting upon what he knew of me and my life, he asked, “Have you ever considered being a priest?” An important seed was planted. (And as Pastor Anne can tell you as a member of the Virginia Synod vocations team, that’s a thing we look for – not just an interior sense of call, but that someone sees something at work in you.) Meanwhile, my godmother, Anna Kendrick, was my mother’s cousin. She was never married but worked all her adult life with an accounting firm. Yet what stood out to me most, once again, was her love, grace, and piety. She humbly and efficiently cared for and loved her widowed mother, who was declining with an early onset of dementia. All the while Anna kept working, sacrificing, and keeping the extended family going. Through both people, I was gifted with their prayers, a willingness to love and support me, but perhaps most wonderfully, a witness to faith that went beyond words. They helped preach those sermons I could see.

So, now you know that I was baptized as an infant, and that leads to a third, likely most significant impact leading to many other countless ramifications…many I won’t likely ever recognize in this life…In baptism, I became a child of God in a special way. Through the Water (a sign) and the Word (the promise of God), my intimacy with God changed. Did you catch that nuance? All members of humanity are at some level created in love by God and loved by God as children. And explicitly according to scripture, Jesus came to call all people into relationship. Yet, we also know that there are some who respond to God’s call through faith more than others; while some not at all. Thus among the faithful, we hopefully seek to listen to and follow Jesus Christ. And one of his most important commands was made to his new Church as he prepared to ascend to heaven. As recorded (in Matthew 28:18-20), “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” In Mark 16, he goes so far to declare one who believes and is baptized will be saved (Mark 16:16a). And so today, the Sunday following Epiphany, as the Church sets out into another new year, we annually remember Jesus’ own example. We stop and ask, “Why is baptism so important that Jesus, born without sin, be baptized? Why should we be baptized? So, let’s gather at the river for a moment and take a closer look.  

As we heard during Advent and hopefully over the years, John was the greatest of all prophets according to Jesus. He had the special job of preparing the way. He called people into repentance, and he baptized them as a symbol of their new start. Yet he wasn’t the first to baptize. Baptism was already a ritual of the Hebrews. Each synagogue had ritual baths for people and items to help them fulfill Levitical and rabbinic laws and teachings. The Mikvah, or bath, was used and is still used by our Jewish siblings, for full immersion in water of people and things for ritual purification…the restoration to a condition of “ritual purity” in specific circumstances. I’ve read it was not called baptism per se, but it is like baptism. Also in John’s time, the Essenes, a mystic Jewish sect, lived out in the wilderness as they sought to separate themselves from the sin of the world. They shared a communal life. They committed to practice piety toward God and righteousness toward their neighbor. Many of the Essene groups appear to have even been celibate. They lived a spartan life, as John did, as a sign of their heart’s desire to repent. And as new members joined their community, they were invited to be immersed…to be baptized. Yes, John’s activity was firmly rooted in what came before and other practices around him…and yet…and yet…he pointed to something new. He pointed to Jesus and a new baptism. “I baptize you with water for repentance,” he cried, “but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me…He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.” And so, Jesus did come, and John resisted baptizing one he knew to be the Son of God, one without sin. “I need to be baptized by you,” John argued.

This is a critical passage. This is a major event. At some level, our baptism is meant to be a physical sign of a new covenant, a loving promise more than a contract, in a long line of increasingly intimate covenants. God has reached out over and over again to humanity, whereby now, we can be marked by the cross of Christ and sealed by his Holy Spirit through baptism forever. Indeed, God’s promise made to us at baptism is more important than any of those we make near a font, pool, or river. Using baptism, God is fulfilling an ancient promise made for the final age. It is found through the words of the prophets, such as Ezekiel (36:26), “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.” John knew that his baptism was for repentance, a symbol. With Christ, access to something new came…baptism of fire and Spirit.

No, our Christian baptism isn’t just a bath. It is not just about ritual purification or blessing. It isn’t just a symbol of new birth or entrance into a community. It is these things, BUT it is more than those things. Baptism as understood by the majority of Christians across the world…the vast majority today and throughout time…has been recognized as transforming. Baptism changes us. The Spirit claims us…grabs hold of us in love, and never wants to let us go. Throughout one’s life, the Spirit is at work. Sometimes easily seen, that work can be subtle as well. Luther used to say God seemed often hidden, yet God never stops working to call us more deeply into relationship…to make us holy…to save us. In baptism (as with the Lord’s Supper), we are promised that God touches us with grace in a most intense way. It is a means of grace…a way of grace to strengthen us on our way. It saves us as we become part of God’s most intimate family, the church. It saves us as the Spirit tries to protect, bless, and guide us each day. It will help save us as we appear before the throne of God to face judgement, not because we did something to earn salvation, but because in baptism, God has gifted us something which enfolds us more fully into Jesus’ own saving ministry… his own life, death, and resurrection. (See Romans 6:3-11 for example.)

In the early Church, baptism was thought so important, converts in biblical times would be baptized by household – fathers, mothers, grandparents, children, servants and yes, even slaves. As the church formalized, baptism became part of the worshipping community’s activities, often celebrated at the high feast of the Resurrection of our Lord, commonly called Easter. Throughout Lent if not longer, adult converts would be called catechumens and be prepared to receive the sacrament…to try to teach them about a mystery that no one can ever know enough about…a love so vast that no human mind or words can ever capture it. And so, because we can never know or do enough, there also remained the practice to baptizing infants among the faithful. For whom can ever know enough to earn God’s grace…do enough…no one can but Jesus is worthy. Thus, two or three (or more) gathered in Jesus’ name gathered (and continue to gather) at a river, pool, or font…turn to God and ask in faith for the Holy Spirit to be present in that infant’s life…not just that day…but forever. And it is Jesus himself who says that God will surely answer such prayers.

Yes, some who are baptized can wonder away. Not all the slaves baptized likely had any heart of faith. Even adults can think they are ready to commit to Christ but fall into grave sin after baptism. Yet the Church says, echoing promises of scripture, even then…even if you were to give up on God…God will not give up on you. God will never give up on you. I see that in my own life looking back. Despite my good start, the world was hard. You’ve heard some stories before today, and we don’t need to revisit them now. Just know that I wondered far. Trusting in God’s grace, I confess openly that I deeply hurt myself and others. Yet I can look back on my life and now see people, places, and events…even an interior stirring (or burning of the heart as Wesley and other saints have spoken about)…calling me back by name…inviting me into a living forgiveness… allowing me a new start each day…calling you, too.  

In Jesus’ baptism, we hear an affirmation of his sonship. We learn that the Spirit will affirm him, drive him forward, and sustain him. Jesus humbled himself. As Paul writes, he emptied himself by taking the nature of a servant. (See Phil. 2) Thus, his baptism teaches us of our own. As Professor John Yieh proclaims, “For Jesus and for Matthew, the righteousness of God is a gift from God that requires believers’ commitment to hunger and thirst for it (5:6, 10), to practice (5:20), to seek (6:33), and to bear its fruit (3:8; 21:43). In other words, Jesus is showing his followers how they should take seriously the ritual of baptism, the life of repentance, and the pursuit of righteousness as he did through his humble baptism by John in the Jordan, and in his whole life” (Workingpreacher.org, January 8, 2023).

As this new year begins, no matter what we have done or failed to do, no matter what questions we still have about our worthiness or purpose…in baptism, God has declared us loved and God’s own. Don’t give up, but seize the day…seize the gift being offered you…no matter how hard. For, God is not done with you yet. Or as Martin Luther puts it, even more forcefully: God, who cannot lie, has bound himself in a covenant with [us], not to count [our] sin against me, but to slay it, and blot it out’” forever. (Treatise on Baptism).

Whatever comes, seek to remember your baptism, for God remembers you. God has chosen to love us forever…And if you haven’t been baptized? In the name of Jesus Christ, we invite you to do so. For God loves you, too, child of God, and is calling you by name. Amen.

Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this post are from the New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition (NRSVue) translation.

© 2023 The Rev. Louis Florio. All content not held under another’s copyright may not be used without permission of the author.

1 Comment

Filed under Uncategorized

God has you covered

Photo by Liv Bruce on Unsplash

You can listen to the podcast version of this post at 2 Penny Blog on Anchor.fm.

“Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will affliction or distress or persecution or famine or nakedness or peril or sword?…No, in all these things we are more than victorious through him who loved us.” (Romans 8:35 and 37)

With the new year, people tend to wonder about what the future will bring. “Will the economy improve? Will I remain healthy? What might go wrong?” In the face of many uncertainties, we tend to set goals about more exercise, more Bible reading, more self-improvement across the board. We want to control our future – at least in some small way. Surveying history, we know one thing if nothing else. We are in for surprises, and we can only control so much. So, isn’t it wonderful that we have a God who holds us and carries us through our uncertainty? A God who loves us controls what we cannot.

Yes, God is filled with a steadfast love for you…for us and the world. Jesus said, “Why, even the hairs of your head are all numbered” (Luke 12:7 NRSVue). As God’s chosen people, Isaiah tells us that the Lord called us from the womb, from the body of our mothers God already knew us by name (Isaiah 49:1 NRSVue). Paul assures us that long ago, even before God made the world, God chose us to be his very own through what Christ would do for us. Before any human every took a breath, God decided then to make us holy in his eyes, without a single fault—we who stand before him covered with his love (Ephesians 1:4 NLT).

At the Virginia Military Institute, we used to call the months before us the Dark Ages. We would get up in the dark for breakfast, and we would end our duties in the dark. There would be few holidays but plenty of work to do. The darkness seemed to hide our future from us. Yet whatever our darkness or time of year, the light of Christ is still shining. Dark and uncertainty can never overcome it. We are loved, and although Christmas celebrations might be a memory, Jesus remains “God with Us.”

We are deeply loved. We are not alone. The darkness has no real power over us. Christ is the light. As we enter an uncertain new year, may the Spirit help us trust in the certain power of God’s love holding us and guiding us forward. We can pray with confidence like St. Augustine, “Let not my doubts and darkness speak to me. Let my heart always welcome your love.” For God already loves us, and whatever happens good or bad, always will.

Originally published in the January 2023 newsletter of Christ Lutheran Church, Fredericksburg, Virginia.

Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this post are from the New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition (NRSVue) translation.

© 2022 The Rev. Louis Florio. All content not held under another’s copyright may not be used without permission of the author.

2 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized