Tag Archives: christianity

Jesus is the Final Word

Raising of Tabitha, sarcophaus fragment, Musee de La’Arles Antique, 4th century AD. Giuseppe Wilpert. Rome: Pontificio Istituto di Archeologia Cristiana, 1929. Plate CXLV, no 6.

This sermon was preached on the Fourth Sunday in Easter (May 8, 2022) at Christ Lutheran Church in Fredericksburg, VA. Currently the worship video is not available due to a techincal issue. You can listen to the sermon on my companion podcast: S1,E15.

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

        As the Book of Acts recounts the anecdotes of the early Church, we see Jesus’ teachings play out, become real, and even be expanded upon if not clarified within ordinary, everyday human lives. God works in history, yet these stories aren’t meant to be historical in the modern sense. In short, Acts is primarily a theological treatise hoping to spark and sustain faith.

        Indeed, the author of Acts, St. Luke, writes that he set pen to paper to help provide the world with “an orderly account” of the promises that had been fulfilled among them as the early Church (see Luke 1:1). Starting in his gospel account of Jesus and extending into life amidst Christ’s earliest followers, Luke supplies us with a kind of “apologetic historiography” that helps establish and justify the origin and development of Christian peoples among the many faith traditions and cultures of his time.

        Basically, as Professor Carl R. Holladay outlines in one of my favorite scholarly journals called Interpretation: A Journal of Bible and Theology[i], Luke seems to tell his story in such a way to help the hearers believe, but also he wishes to help us identify divine cause and effect. For example, Paul’s mission to eastern Asia Minor leads to the Jerusalem Conference (Acts 15) to discuss the future of Gentiles in what has primarily been a Jewish movement at that point. Then, the decisions made at that conference lead directly to Paul’s mission in the region of the Aegean Sea and eventually toward Rome. Indeed, in Luke’s understanding, just as the prophets’ life and testimony pointed to and connects with Jesus’ own glory, it is Jesus who animates and sends us out into the world. Our story is sewn into this larger, eternal story. Christ’s love at work in our lives leads to miracle upon miracle.

        And in approaching history in this way, Luke understands that God’s ways are woven into all the tapestry of history, including individual lives and the smallest events. There’s both a personal intimacy and an overarching divine purpose being worked out among us…being fulfilled among us. We aren’t subjected to dumb luck or coldhearted fate; God has a loving plan for us…each and every one of us. And although bad things can happen to good people in a fallen world, or we can make bad choices hurting ourselves and others, it remains ok. God has the power and God wills to ultimately work things out for our welfare and to God’s glory. That’s partly why Luke doesn’t account for the Apostle Mark’s work establishing the Church in Egypt, or St. Thomas’ work in India, or other important Apostolic stories. It isn’t that these events weren’t significant or that miracles didn’t happen. No, Luke’s focus is on the grand design that wishes to spread faith from the center of the Jewish world, Jerusalem, into and throughout the gentile world as represented by Rome. Luke wants to clarify the Church’s role in the world in comparison to its two primary, contemporary accusers, Judaism and Roman religion and culture. So, his tale tends to follow Peter and Paul in their roller coaster ride toward Rome.

        Certainly, Luke is not recounting some dull and dusty history. Luke is telling the story of Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, who died and is risen from the dead…for you and for me. And Jesus’ power is still at work in, through, and around us. Luke sees a connection between what happened in “former times,” what is happening in his day, and right through our lives to “the last days” – the end of time. There’s a singular, loving purpose connecting all lives and moving us toward an ancient promise yet to be fulfilled – the resurrection of the dead and establishment of a new heaven and earth where we will live eternally with God in glory. As such, the Book of Acts incorporates the stories of many diverse individuals, and again, Luke assumes we play a part in this narrative too.

        And so, we now come to the story of Tabitha – a life linked to the story of Jesus and our own. A fellow graduate student of mine, now a seminary professor, Dr. Raj Nadella, succinctly summarized the scene: “The story of Peter raising Tabitha from the dead parallels the story of Jairus’ daughter in Luke 8:40-56. While Jairus’ people advocated for his daughter in Luke 8, believers at Joppa advocate for Tabitha in this chapter. In both stories, the miracle occurs in a private setting. Just as Jesus sends everyone except Peter, James, and John out of the room prior to the miracle, Peter sends everyone out in this story. In both accounts, the deceased comes back to life after being ordered to get up. It is as if Peter, who was present when Jesus raised Jairus’ daughter from the dead, replicates a similar miracle at Joppa.”[ii] Do you hear the recurring, reverberating sound of God’s love at work as Luke tells it? God’s love echoes throughout time. As so many observe, Luke sees that history repeats itself. Yet, it is not exactly the same story, is it? Things have changed. Most importantly, Christ is risen! (Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia!) That Easter promise is still unfolding; the Kingdom of God birthing into our world through our lives. In this incident of resurrection, people with the help of the Spirit can understand that Christ’s authority has been truly shared with his followers. It is a hope-filled experience where Luke sees the victory of God and God’s people over the forces of death. Luke’s expectation and hope is that those who hear it for the first time or remember it in the future will come to an ever-deepening trust in Jesus as Lord.

        Sadly, there are some who argue against the truth of such stories because they have never seen such things. Others in their enthusiasm or greed, sell videos on how you, too, can raise the dead. (It is true. As crazy as it might sound, I’ve seen them, and I know of someone who fell for this scam.) Yet even the Bible indicates raising from the dead is a rare thing. Surely, it wouldn’t be deemed such a big miracle if rising folks from death was a norm. It is important for us to recall that with the thousands of years covered, the Hebrew scriptures only preserves a handful of resurrection accounts enabled through the faith of prophets. Perhaps more surprisingly, Jesus himself is reported to have raised only three people from the dead during his earthly ministry (the widow’s son at Nain, Jairus’ daughter, and Lazarus). When someone is raised from the dead or miraculously healed…or not…one can always be sure that God has a very good and special reason for what God does or does not do. Somehow, God’s answer to our prayer – whether yes or no – will always be informed by God’s love for us and the world.

         And so despite doubters, one can certainly find stories here and there of those risen from the dead or miraculously healed or helped if one looks. In my own life, there was a time when I served as a hospice chaplain to a person actively dying. (This means there were medical signs of impending death as judged by competent medical authorities). The family was Christian, but they had a hard time accepting his death and prayed for a miracle. As I prayed, they started to take over. They begged, pleaded and cajold hoping against hope that they could have even one more day with the one they loved. As I left that night, he was in a comatos-like state. When we were done praying, I said my goodbyes and went home. The next day, I received a call from a nurse. Somehow, someway, he was up and walking around, alert and talking, the next morning. The man’s doctor, nurse and hospice staff were rightly amazed. I was amazed. Science could not explain it. Yet the family that prayed so diligently, so passionately, with me that night saw this clearly as an affirmation of their own faith and hope. They gave thanks to God. All good things come from God, so who can say – however it happened – that they are wrong. I certainly will not! Strange things happen…miraculous and unusual things. Yet with all such miracle stories – whether Lazarus, Tabitha, or even the man I knew who was actively dying – the people involved eventually died. This incident wasn’t the End Times’ eternal, resurrected life with Jesus that we have in this passage. No, these miracles happen to call people into or affirm faith while we wait for that day. That’s what God uses miracles for. The love of God shows itself in a unique, concrete, if not intimate way for a particular and greater purpose. And so perhaps today’s account isn’t ultimately about Peter’s exemplary faith or Tabitha’s getting up from being dead after all? These details remain important, but I would like to suggest with others that Luke is pointing us toward something more. Again, this story is our story.

        In Tabitha, we have a poor woman (a person at the margins of society likely due to her social and economic status and sex), and yet, our mighty God graciously, unexpectedly chooses to work miracles in her life. By that, I don’t mean God worked just through her resurrection (for that’s the low hanging fruit of the story). No, humble Tabitha, named Dorcas in Greek, was a seamstress who was known for her “good works and acts of mercy.” She echoed God’s love throughout her life. Her life and faith touched the lives of others and changed them for the better through relationships built on love. As Dr. Nadella also notes, “Her compassion and care allowed her to build a beloved community that became her family.”[iii] That’s the big and lasting miracle here – her legacy of love…ultimately Jesus’ legacy. Tabitha would experience death again, but in Christ, through her love shared and still being passed on through the Church, she lives on. And one day, Christ promises that we will all stand with him resurrected in his glory forever. Her story, our story, in no way ends with death.

        For some, no matter what is said or how one tries to account for it, the story of Tabitha will remain an old wives’ tale. Yet, I believe with the early Church that the same divine love which raised her to life can be found at work in the lives of all those ordinary people who trust in Jesus – including yours and mine. That love was at work in Tabitha all along even before she or others perhaps recognized it, and it is still at work now. It is always at work even when we don’t see it or fully understand it. As a past seminary professor of mine attests, “God’s love creates, redeems and sustains without ceasing.”[iv] Through a faith, hope, and love lived out…echoing from and embodying Christ’s own life given for us…we become one with Christ’s story, power, and purpose…one with his love. We are transformed through that love into a resurrected people, walking in the world to change it, sharing in a legacy of love that will ripple throughout time without end. We can live generously like Tabitha, assured that death does not have the final word, because Jesus is the final word. And, it is he who has claimed us as his own forever. Amen.


[i] Holladay, C.R. (July 2012). “Interpreting Acts.” Interpretation: A Journal of Bible and Theology, 66(3), 245-258. Washington, DCs: Sage Publications

[ii] Nadella, R. (May 2022). Commentary on Acts 9:36-43 as downloaded from workingpreacher.org on May 5, 2022.

[iii] ibid

[iv] Stjerna, K.I. (2010). “Editors Introduction” in Two Kinds of Love: Martin Luther’s Religious World, by Mannermaa, T. p. XI.

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

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

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What can one say? Christ is risen!

By Luca Giordano – Web Gallery of Art:   Image  Info about artwork, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=15454818

This sermon was preached on the Feast of the Resurrection of our Lord (April 17, 2022) at Christ Lutheran Church. Currently the recording and video is not available due to a techincal issue.

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

        On a perfect Easter morning, as the sun rises and sanctuaries overflow with the scent of spring flowers…as we hear the giggles and screams of children searching for all those elusive Easter eggs…it is easy to be caught up in all the excitement. The music, the greetings, songs and prayers, even the food shared…all of this creates a tone of celebration if not victory. Rightly so, for Christ is risen! (Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia!).

        And yet at the same time, how far away from that first Easter morning we can thus find ourselves. No, nothing was certain or celebratory on that first Easter morning. People only understood that Jesus had died. Those who loved him had hurriedly placed him in the tomb before the start of the sabbath, and now on the first day of the Jewish work week, women who loved him, disciples, came to finish their job preparing Jesus’ body for eternal rest. Amidst the pain and worry of the last week, Jesus’ promises of resurrection had been pushed aside…if not forgotten. The immediacy of the threats around them captured their attention. The grief related to his tortuous death consumed them. There was no celebration as they came to the tomb. They expected the worse. They expected death. Indeed, most of Christ’s disciples had abandoned him at his arrest and remained in hiding.

        Yet when times get hard, why do we look for the living among the dead? We are much like those first disciples – those in hiding and those women trying to muddle through by doing just what they need to do to get through their day. We can forget about Christ’s resurrection promises. We can focus on our need, our grief, or our obligations and worry instead. We get lost in the present when Jesus and his Spirit all along keep trying to point us toward a future filled with hope. Yes, how humbling…those disciples are much like us. We can struggle to believe. We can wrestle with our faith. We can doubt.

        And at such low points in our lives, the empty tomb lies before us. Its legacy reaching through the ages to confront our unbelief, our doubts and darkness. Again, why are we looking for the living among the dead? Why don’t we live as if Jesus lives? As we spoke about a few weeks ago, the stench of death is always floating around us, taunting us…telling us to be afraid. And yet so much more is going on. Jesus rose to defeat sin and death and guarantees us (guarantees us!) that even as we might struggle for our daily bread…or hope…an abundant, fruitful life can be ours starting now – from the very moment we believe. Amidst death, we can choose life…we can choose to trust in Jesus…because Jesus lives.

        Much like those women, if we come to belief in Christ’s resurrection, we will likely struggle with our words. It might seem an idle, foolish tale to even our friends and family. It might be hard for us to believe never mind express. Christ is risen! (He is risen indeed!) Yet what does that mean for us…to us? How does his victory over sin and death resonate if not resound in and through our lives? Christ’s resurrection should matter with our every breath and transform each of our steps into sacred ones. Yes, “As it is written, ‘How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!’” (Romans 10:15).

         With the resurrection of Jesus, everything has changed. All is new. Truly, St. Paul called it the start of a new and final age of history…a time for expectation to replace fear. We understand from scripture that the Kingdom of God is no longer just near, it has broken into our world and is still rushing in until it reaches its fullness. Imagine, heaven in the real world! It seems preposterous…impossible… and yet that is what the resurrection proclaims to us. In the risen body of Jesus transformed from death to life, we are asked to find an affirmation of all that Jesus taught and promised. Facing the empty tomb with these women disciples and Peter, we are asked to remember Jesus’ words and choose to believe.

        Prior to Jesus’ death, he asked his disciples, “Who do you say that I am?” That question has only now grown in importance. We know what others might say, but who do you (Robert, Judy, John, Anne and Lou, whoever you may be)… Jesus is asking, “Who do you say that I am?” We cannot explain the mystery of the resurrection, so why do you…why do we…believe? That’s a sobering question because we can never know enough about Jesus. As imperfect humans, we can never understand enough or become worthy enough. At some point, we must surrender our need for knowledge and explanation; throwing our lives into the arms of our Risen Lord who is waiting to welcome us. In our weakness and want, we can only trust.

        Having come to belief, the women did not know and understand all. As they went to tell others, they struggled with their words. The other disciples wrestled to trust in their story. Peter himself ran to the tomb to see for himself…only to find it empty…and with all that he had heard and seen, he walked away – not confirmed in his faith – but amazed…amazed! He was scratching his head…rubbing his eyes…trying to make sense of it all…wondering if his hope could really prove true. These great saints, the first of Christ’s chosen ones, struggled with faith. And so perhaps we can go easy on ourselves if we struggle at times too. Yet although gentleness might be called for, we are asked to share in not just their amazement and wonder but also their courage and hope. We are invited to believe without seeing and have our lives transformed.

        As I’ve said elsewhere, the resurrected life that we are invited to share in is one of living relationship and experience. Faith must be lived. According to Jesus, ours is to be a resurrected life of service, fellowship, and corporate worship. It is one where we seek to follow Jesus each day as best as we can and introduce him to others even as we stumble in our telling. It is one where we might yet be called to share in the sting of Christ’s sacrifice and cross out of love for God and others. In hoping, believing, seeking…in daring to live for Jesus without all our questions being answered…Jesus will make himself known to us on our way. Jesus will prove true to his promise because Jesus does not lie.[i]

        Yes, for our part, we are asked only to dare to hope…dare to hope…that this two thousand plus year story is true. It has come to us from person to person – against all odds – from people who had their lives changed for the better through belief while often under severe persecution. It has been affirmed through reported miracles. And indeed, some of these miracles were great, but most often miracles are ordinary things…small things…understood in an extraordinary, grace-filled way. I’ve also seen the resurrection testified to through the lives of others…great saints and ordinary ones…like my friends’ parents who loved me as a troubled youth and testified to Jesus in the way they did so…or as with the Ethiopian pastor who I met who rather than recant his faith suffered imprisonment and torture…or my friend from Bosnia who escaped genocide (crossing snow covered mountains on foot) under the threat of death because he knew he could not…would not…give up his resurrection hope in Jesus. For centuries before us, people have been willing to testify to the resurrection with their lives…risking their lives…stretching their lives to welcome others in Christ’s name…They did so because they dared believe in Christ’s resurrection. Such people and stories encourage me to risk believing and loving daily. As I recall such people and their stories, they help me walk on in faith.  

        Yes, the conundrum of the resurrection will never be solved by science. It cannot be proven beyond the shadow of a doubt with any human words. Yet, its truth can only be found through faith…in daring to live as if it is true…and the Risen Christ, because he loves us, will reveal himself to us…not just in times of victory but also amidst our times of doubt and darkness too. Christ is risen! (Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia!) Jesus is no longer amidst the dead. He is heaven in our very real world, inviting us to follow him…to walk with him…and to come see his glory for ourselves. As a friend wrote, “It is he, the Risen Lord, who brings us together. Although he remains invisible to our eyes, he can be mysteriously present for every human being, for each one of us.”[ii] We gather, and serve, and hope because Christ is Risen! (Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia!) Amen.


[i] “Jesus does not lie” was a favorite saying of Martin Luther.

[ii] The Risen Christ Makes Us Passionate Seekers of Communion, by Brother Alois of Taizé, 19 April 2014 as downloaded at https://www.taize.fr/en_article16665.html.

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

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

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Loved, Craddled, Blessed

Can a woman forget her nursing child, or show no compassion for the child of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you” (Is 49:15). Image: Mother and child, from Clipartkey. Used by permission.

The following sermon was offered at Christ Lutheran Church on February 13, 2022, the 6th Sunday after Epiphany. Due to the positive feedback and discussion, that followed, I am posting the text here. I have also embeded the worship service below. Primary text: Luke 6:17-26, the Beatitudes.

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

Well, settle in. This is a critically important discussion today, and it is one I know will be difficult for me, and likely for some of you – hopefully touching our hearts deeply. So, I will try to do my best. With St. Valentine’s Day upon us, it is a happy coincidence that our assigned lectionary readings lead us to reexamine the Beatitudes. The early Church consider them formative values that should shape our life together in the world. Yet I clearly recall as a youth forced to memorize them for confirmation, I really didn’t get them. I looked at them as maxims or even law like – a pronouncement from some distant God up high and far away. Perhaps that’s partly because the Beatitudes aren’t really meant to be memorized. They are meant to be integrated into one’s heart and soul, and that might take a mature faith born of suffering.

At their simplest, you can understand the Beatitudes as sayings of Jesus. Some of you might know or recall that our Jewish siblings often call what we know as the Ten Commandments the “Sayings of God.” Yes, they are at some level laws on how the community of faith should get along with one another and the world, but recall what Jesus and prophets said before him. The fullness of the law is love – in particular loving God and others as oneself.

And so, if you read Martin Luther’s Large Catechism or Rabbinical interpretations, they don’t always sound like stark law or mandates. They are a way of love…a means of walking through life with more joy and peace…literally walking humbly in the way of and with our God. The sayings – not numbered in the Bible but by people after the fact – are sometimes numbered differently, yet they are not legal codes. They are unique because through them God speaks love to those he has chosen, so that that they might…just might…become a blessing of love at work in the world. You can find moral and ethical dimensions to be sure, but they are all wrapped up in love.

With such a gift, it can be such a shame that we lack the understanding, the spiritual maturity, that they are meant to be so much more than Law. There’s Gospel infused into them too, because God spoke them and gave them to Moses for the people of God as a gift. God wanted the Israelites…and now through faith us…to become the Holy People of God…עם האלהים, a phrase in the Hebrew scriptures mentioned exhaustively and one I thus lift up to you often. We are a people set apart, made holy by God, called to live in holy ways, but not for our own sake. We are charged with a loving purpose in a fallen world.

Well, as scripture reveals to us, and our own more recent history makes plain, we cannot do this on our own. Scripture is a help. Thou “shalts and shalt nots” might inform, guide and challenge us to do better, but perhaps you have noticed that we live in a challenging world. Everything isn’t cherubs and boxes of chocolate. (My apologies to Forest Gump!) Love can be hard, and even when we try our best, we can fall, fail or suffer.

And so, out of love for us, Jesus offers us new sayings, blessings. (That’s really what beatitude means anyway – blessing.) These blessing will serve to draw us closer, more intimately toward God and one another. Yet unlike Moses’ experience, they are not sayings given directly to a prophet and by extension to the People of God. No, Jesus is God incarnate, and so these sayings are beyond special. They are not mediated but given directly to us. In a fallen world, these blessings recognize our suffering, but they tell us…promise us…God’s love is with us! Always with us! More than that, these sayings remind us that nothing can separate us from such a love.

 In Luke’s telling, his witness, of the Gospel, there are some significant differences from the account in Matthew 5. (I’m not going to address those in detail today. I’ve tried to explain why such differences exist in detail on Facebook, my blog, Bible studies, and elsewhere recently.) Yet, consider who Luke was. He was a human just like you and me. He was of likely Greek descent, many think a Gentile, but some suggest perhaps that he was a Hellenized Jew. And in his life and time, he had the good fortune to become a doctor, meet Paul in his travels, and become a coworker with him. Luke inherited these stories, and so in the Gospel according to Luke, we hear his witness of Jesus. Much as if you or I were telling a story, the truth is transmitted through his lens (his context and experience), and he likely wanted it to relate to and be understood by his audience – those many Gentiles and Hellenized Jews we know surrounded him. (They are who he first wrote to.) In short, Jesus is a God of suffering. No, not causing suffering, but Jesus is willing to suffer for us and with us, and ultimately the answer to all suffering in the world.

Through Luke’s vocation (as doctor and servant of Christ with Paul), Luke knew the extreme suffering of his century. Luke would have been all too familiar with sickness, injustice, poverty, violence and death and the grief that always results. Thus, Luke recognizes the special nature of Jesus as God who has profoundly come to us as one of us. Jesus came to share in that suffering and reach out to the outsider (like gentiles and widows, immigrants, the lonely, the sick in body and spirit). Jesus was and remains God with us in our imperfection and suffering. At the same time, Jesus came as the answer to the Fall. Jesus came to heal and restore. This is exactly what Luke remembers and shares with us as Jesus prepares to share his most central of teachings. Luke points out to us in the opening verses, “Jesus heals! Jesus saves! Jesus loves those entrusted to his care amidst the evil and loss of our very real world!”

At this point in the story, people didn’t fully understand Jesus yet. (I’m not sure we really do today. I know I don’t!) Still, in hearing of his teaching and preaching, as well as the authentic love that he gifted to others, crowds came from all around the region often walking miles and miles and miles. Luke tells us that the people were desperate, so desperate for hope and healing, that they wrestled with one another reaching out to Jesus just in the hope of touching him, for “power came out from him and healed all of them.”

It is here that Jesus chose to share Good News with the crowd – and with those who might come afterward – to all those yearning to just touch the hem of his garment…to experience a little bit of hope if nothing else. Jesus knows not all of those in need could touch him in that sea of humanity any more than we might with him now ascended to heaven. Yet, Jesus wants us to listen and believe.

So, listen to what Jesus says. Reread it when you get home, and then over and over again. Treasure and ponder these words. In the beatitudes, Jesus is telling us that he already loves us amidst our suffering, and he invites us to love others as best as we are able. Whatever our sufferings are – big or small; transitory or seemingly permanent – he is God with us and already loves us. We can rejoice when our crops fail as the prophet Habakkuk announces. We can cast all our cares upon him for he cares for us, as Peter urges. We can recognize with Mary in her song, the Magnificat (also in Luke’s Gospel), that our soul magnifies the Lord, and we can rejoice in God our savior, as lowly as we might be. John says in Revelation, there will be a day when all our tears and suffering will be washed away, a future filled with hope Jeremiah called it, but John, too, acknowledges we aren’t quite there yet. All creation groans for redemption, as Paul tells us, so why are we surprised at suffering. Indeed, Jesus suffered for us. Yet suffering is not all that there is, for God is not only with us, God in Jesus is for us. We belong now to Jesus, and not one of his sheep will be lost.

What I am getting at is that all of scripture is filled with similar promises. The Beatitudes bring these promises into focus telling us that we should not trust our eyes or other senses. God is already blessing us with fortitude, hope, understanding and counsel and so much more. When we don’t have the words, we are promised the Holy Spirit lifts up our deepest needs and wounds to God. Life is hard…we might even at times rightly use more forceful, descriptive words than that…but don’t think for a moment that God’s love has abandoned us…abandoned you! Hope truly can be born of suffering.

At times, we might kid ourselves to think that we can just keep our chins up and make it through. We might internalize and deny our pain or the pain of the world. Yet we lie to ourselves when we share the old maxim, “God won’t give us anything more than we can handle,” for in the verse that inspires such hubris (1 Corinthians 10:13), we are instead told that our suffering is just part of our world…common at some level to one and all of us…but Paul actually writes, “God is faithful, and he will not let you be tested beyond your strength, [but if you are] with the testing he will also provide the way out so that you may be able to endure it.” Did you catch that? When we feel overwhelmed and cannot go on, when all hope seems lost, and we might feel like the biggest losers of victims in the world, dead inside, God will be there to bless us! Jesus plans our resurrection! It is God who will give us the way out and a way forward…always. It is God who will turn our suffering on its head and declare ultimate blessing. Even in suffering, more is going on than we can see or understand. God’s love for us overflows. Just hang on to the promise like a life preserver.

Now, I know I have gone on longer than normal, and I am the only thing standing between you and your Super Bowl fair, but please bear with me. After all, this is among the most important passages of promise offered us in scripture. As Christians we need to consider where we can testify to the Good News, and that can often come from our own stories and experience. So, I want to share one difficult but profound experience of grace from my life.

If you have experienced the death of a child, or experienced such deep loss in any way, you might relate to the seemingly inconsolable pain that such an experience can create. My wife and I have no children, which is a kind of loss for us emotionally, but I have experienced the death of beloved children at very young ages that I have had deep relationships with – a cousin at 16, and children and youth that I cared for in mission and other vocations. I have also seen children and infants brutalized and sometimes die. And as a police, hospital, and hospice chaplain, I have walked alongside officers, and nurses and families that have shared in such tragedies and walk wounded afterward as a result…often brought to tears just at the memory. How can we speak love at such times? Well, we can try to because God is there…perhaps hidden…hard to see…but our God who is love is there. So, we are asked to press on, reach out, and watch and wait for Jesus.

As a young chaplain, I was called to the hospital from home. A newborn infant had just died, and the family was gathered. The family had already been presented a memory box with a hand and footprint, a lock of hair and other small mementos of an all too short life. I came into the room not knowing exactly what to expect. I didn’t know what I could say, as I’m pretty sure no human words are ever good enough. As I turned the corner, almost startling me from my thoughts…there was the mom, held by the dad, right in front of me. The mom in her turn was lovingly, ever so gently, cradling her baby’s body in her arms. (It is an image I will never forget.) They had been praying…praying so very hard…and yet their beloved child had been taken from them. It was brutal. It was unfair. It remains beyond understanding. “That God would take a child from its mother as she prayed” was appalling.[i] I think a little bit of me died in that room in that moment.

Then awkwardly, hopefully, the mom reached out to me. She asked me to hold the baby in my own arms and bless the gift that it was and remained to them. And in that sacred moment, and still today, I know that as hard as it was to see through their tears and now my own, God was with us. God was in that shared love found in family and community. God was in the mom’s eyes looking at me with love and hope. God was in the caregivers and volunteers who supported them and those like them. I discovered that God was even trying to break into the world through me and my own heart which was now being torn apart. It wasn’t being torn for the sake of suffering. No, in that suffering, my heart was being opened so that that I could better welcome and embrace those in need before me.

 This was a difficult, horrific event, perhaps one of the worst of my life and certainly their own. Why did this happen? I had and have no answer. Yet with that small body cradled in my arms, I recognized (perhaps it was God speaking) that God was cradling us in our suffering. It wasn’t about me and my abilities as a chaplain or human at all. God was at work, and Jesus opened my eyes to it. And so, I found I was empowered to bear this moment and perhaps somehow serve as a sign of grace to try to bear them up too…perhaps simply by my presence then…and perhaps now in my testifying of this sacred moment to you…As I walk on from it, even as it wounded me, healing was and is still entering the world.

As a Christian singer who experienced the loss of her own baby wrote in a song I deeply love and appreciate: “This is what it means to be held; How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life; And you survive. This is what it is to be loved; And to know that the promise was; [that] When everything fell, we’d be held.”[ii] I wish I could speak a word, and all your pain and the pain of the world would be gone. And, I don’t pretend to know why God has allowed things to be this way with so much suffering and pain. Yet I do know this…“Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.”

My beloved, God is with you and loves you. It is Jesus, after all, who said this, and proved it through his own suffering, death, and resurrection, so that we might experience life with him. These blessings are not about you, your strength of faith, or your perfection. They aren’t really about suffering either, even as they call us to be something (someone) more in the face of the suffering that is in the world. These blessings are about a new reality whether you believe it or not…God is active in our lives and our world – a God who is only love.

Go to Jesus as you can, not as you hope that you might. Reach out to him even when he seems too far away (if not hidden) from you, or when you think your suffering might be more or less than the crowd around you. For you and your struggles matter to Jesus, and he is already reaching out to you. Jesus is with you, always with you, and it is he who cradles you lovingly in his arms. Receive the blessing and believe. Amen.

Listen to this sermon on anchor.fm or Spotify LISTEN HERE

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[i] Natalie Grant, “Held” (2006).

[ii] Natalie Grant, “Held” (2006).

© 2021 The Rev. Louis Florio. All content not held under another’s copyright may not be used without permission of the author.

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Cultivating Self Care

Image by tinytribes on pixaby.com. Used by permission.

And this is my prayer, that your love may overflow more and more with knowledge and full insight to help you to determine what is best, so that in the day of Christ you may be pure and blameless, having produced the harvest of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ for the glory and praise of God. (Philippians 1:9-11)

For many, the summer can prove busier than the school year. Even in our “play,” we can tend to be people who plan and program our time, thus stretching ourselves thin rather than building ourselves up. As August arrives and we return to our fall schedules, it is tempting to let go of self-care and personal growth in order to accomplish more before summer comes to an end. Yet what if less is truly more? What if in prioritizing a healthy love of self we could be empowered to love others better? We have to pick and choose what we need to really do most, but when we often put our needs last, that can just lead to burnout.

I remember when I was young, I pulled long hours at work and volunteered for more hours to help supplement my pay. That seemed reasonable at the time, but important relationships, exercise, meals and my spiritual life suffered. I found myself always busy and yet in many ways isolated. I approached my life with cynicism rather than joy. As one would expect, I hit a kind of bottom that convinced me I needed to repent.

In reorienting my life through daily spiritual practices, worship in community, and other self-care habits, I admit that it at first seemed like a bother. Yet soon, I noticed benefits. My attitude improved. I slept better and had less anxiety. I found deeper friendships and thus a more meaningful life. In making time for communal Bible study and continuing education for self-improvement, my zest for life increased. Even at work, my supervisor noted that I was working more efficiently in less time, and he experienced me as a more pleasant and peaceful person.

As the fall arrives, you will be invited to many events including church related activities. I’m not suggesting that you need to be at our congregation every time the doors are open, yet I would challenge you to discern what is best for you and your family. Self-care including that of your spiritual life needs to be an intentional priority, or you will be missing out on the abundant life Jesus promises. I encourage you to change things up and try something new as offered by Christ Lutheran, the Virginia Synod, or other faith groups in our area. Find a retreat, take a new class, or sign-up for a spiritual director from the ecumenical community at Richmond Hill or another community of your choice. Volunteer for a cause you feel passionate about. Better yet, invite a friend to join you. If you don’t know where to start, Pastor Anne or I will be happy to help you choose.

We are commanded by God to love our neighbor as ourselves, not better than ourselves. As human beings, our bodies are geared toward survival and achievement. Our God wishes us much, much more. Cultivating self-care can help us on our way.

Originally published in the August 2021 newsletter of Christ Lutheran Church, Fredericksburg, VA.

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

© 2021 The Rev. Louis Florio. All content not held under another’s copyright may not be used without permission of the author.

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Rethinking the Civil War, It’s Legacy, & Me

Click this image to read the article alluded to below in my blog, “Why Do Confederate Lies Live On” in The Atlantic.

“When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways” (1 Corinthians 13:11).

Recently, I came across an excellent article in The Atlantic called “Why Do Confederate Lies Live On.” It was written by Clint Smith, an African American staff writer with the magazine. Focused on his experience with the chapel at Blandford Cemetery, it gave me reason to pause and reflect about my own life.

VMI Cadet Hartsfield of the Battle of New Market is buried somewhere in the Blanford Cemetery in a grave lost to history. In 2014, Petersburg’s VMI alumni group asked me to offer an invocation and benediction for their recognition of the 150th anniversary of the Battle of New Market on May 15th. I was serving as a pastor in Richmond at the time. I naively expected a small, outside event from what I was told. It ended up being a larger event in this cemetery chapel. (I had never heard of this chapel before my visit.)

I was told a World War 2 veteran who survived landing just a day or so after D-Day and fought through the war would speak about his experiences. He did, and that was positive. I did not expect a local SCV color guard with the Stars and Bars battle flag or the explicitly Confederate windows. It was sort of creepy and fascinating at the same time.

My previously prepared prayer alluded to the errors and evils of the Civil War. Yet now, I wish that I had explicitly and strongly refuted slavery and racism as part of it. I mentioned how the cadets’ actions under fire likely helped lead to the preservation and restoration of VMI after the war and perhaps indirectly helped shape or inspire folks like George C. Marshall and Civil Rights Martyr, Jonathan Daniels, and others to bravery or to do their duty. (At some level, I think that remains true for me.) I realize that God can make good come from anything, even our sin. I prayed VMI and our nation would become ever better, more just, and reconciled.

On one hand, I was honored to be asked by fellow alumni, especially for this momentous 150th anniversary year of the Civil War. My fellow alumni were hospitable, and like many alumni including myself, love VMI. On the other hand, I wish I went further and spoke more clearly about the sins of racism, slavery and treason. I value history, but we need to tell the whole story – even the ugliest parts.

Even though I’m from the north, even though some of my ancestors fought for the United States during the rebellion, even though my First Class dykes (senior mentors are called dykes after the cross-belts or dykes worn as part of the uniform) used to have me answer, “The United States of America, Sir,” to the question at VMI about who won the Civil War, the Lost Cause Myth can insidiously take hold of a person if we aren’t wary. It can obscure our vision and understanding, as well as stir division or wound others unintentionally. The myth dresses up and softens what’s ugly. After all, that myth and racism in all forms are just more signs of sin at work in our lives and world. And, sin often traps us subtly over time.

I’m not the person I was in 2014. My attitudes have hopefully continued to evolve, and I pray I continue to grow in understanding and empathy. Wherever needed, I desire the wisdom to repent of my sin including any sin related to racism. I want the courage to challenge racism wherever it is encountered. I’m not looking to erase history. I understand all of us, even the best of us, can only be simultaneously sinner and saint and never perfect. It can be helpful to remember the past. Yet as Christians, we understand we are always reforming. We need to separate ourselves from rigid, dualistic (that everything is all good or all bad), or simplistic thinking and bravely embrace the truth of our past and our present whatever we might see. We can love and respect our enemies, even those of the past, even as we seek to see them and their failures as they truly are.

Want to learn more? I would highly recommend this additional text: Robert E. Lee and Me: A Southerner’s Reckoning with the Myth of the Lost Cause.

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

© 2021 The Rev. Louis Florio. All content not held under another’s copyright may not be used without permission of the author.

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Our Lord’s Living Garden

In springtime, I often come to think of Thérèse de Lisieux as I take my walks. Thérèse was known for seeing God in the little things, even spring flowers or butterflies. She would regularly stop to reflect upon their intricate beauty. In her own way, it was a source of what we might call meditation or mindfulness. By focusing on her experiences of the moment, she discovered a deeper sense of peace and beauty around her and ultimately at work in her. She recognized even as she battled chronic, often debilitating illness, that she had reason to hope. Even in her illness, she could serve and be faithful to God. Simplicity was her watchword, often called by her “the little way.” And she herself eventually became commonly known as “the Little Flower.” For as much as many would overlook God’s work in creation, contemporaries often overlooked the spiritual beauty found in her lifestyle and vision. Yet today, she is remembered in Roman Catholic and Protestant seminaries and congregations across the world.

Martin Luther once quipped, “Our Lord has written the promise of resurrection, not in books alone, but in every leaf in springtime.” This is most certainly true! Yet, in this busy world, do we often stop to reflect on the gracious beauty at work in each of us and the world? Through our faith and baptism, God is still sharing the promises of the Gospel, and although not everyone will notice or believe it, all our lives make a difference. Indeed, Jesus died and rose from the dead for every one of us. As we are and for what we will become through grace, he sees value and beauty in each of us.

Much as Paul argued that each of us play a varied part in the body of Christ, Thérèse saw us as flowers in the garden. “I understood that every flower created by Him is beautiful, that the brilliance of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not lessen the perfume of the violet or the sweet simplicity of the daisy. I understood that if all the lowly flowers wished to be roses, nature would no longer be enameled with lovely hues. And so, it is in the world of souls, Our Lord’s living garden.”

Scripture reveals to us that God is our Master Gardner. God has planted us in the region of Fredericksburg to do some particular good, to add unique beauty, and to be individual and communal signs of life and hope. We bloom through worship, fellowship, and service. We are rooted in his love. Yet as summer travels begin again, local gatherings increase, and some might have to continue to stay away due to medical issues or other concerns, know that you are not forgotten. Indeed, you are missed. Come back to us when ready with new stories and love to share. For you make a difference to us, and together, we are most beautiful. I wish you a happy and meaningful summer ahead.

Image: Picture by the author.

Originally published in the June 2021 newsletter of Christ Lutheran Church, Fredericksburg, VA.

© 2021 The Rev. Louis Florio. All content not held under another’s copyright may not be used without permission of the author.

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The Lost Valentine (Not the movie on Hallmark)

Read an article about what Valentine might have looked like here.

Much like Charlie Brown waiting to be noticed by the little red-haired girl, it seems we have come to overlook and ignore the very source of “Valentine’s Day.” Yes, the living, breathing follower of Christ who died as a martyr seems to have been forgotten. Even his title of “Saint” has most often disappeared from February 14th. Somehow, his historic contribution to our shared faith has been transfigured into candy sales, cards, and romantic movies. Good grief!

Valentine of Rome, known as Valentinus in Latin, was a well-known saint at one time with a popular devotion dating back to the late 3rd Century. There exist several Valentines on liturgical calendars, but much of the details of his life are lost to us. As questions exist about the veracity and scope of what we know, Roman Catholics took him off their liturgical calendar in 1969 as part of their process of liturgical renewal and modernization. Some other denominations – including the ELCA – followed suit. (He is still considered a saint, but he does not have a dedicated feast day celebrated at worship; excepting any local commemorations.)

Despite some doubts, a consensus about THE Valentine’s life exists. Some argue the famed Valentine was a Roman priest and physician or healer of some kind. He died during a general persecution of Christianity led by Emperor Claudius II Gothicus in about 269 AD. His day of martyrdom, February 14th, became his feast day. (The Church tends to recognize the day of death as a day of new birth in Christ, so the day of death most often becomes the feast day.) Other candidates include a bishop killed during a similar persecution under Emperor Aurelian in 273 and a person only known by this name martyred with other Christians in Africa during an unspecified date that same century. Both later Valentines allegedly also died on February 14th, and some argue the bishop may even be the priest (just two versions of the same life). Valentine was a common name back in those imperial days, and there are about one dozen other saints with that name, as well as a Pope (reigning for two months in 827 AD). So with limited documentation, one can understand the confusion.

Mythic stories have been shared about the primary Valentine’s marrying people in secret, sharing a card with his jailer’s daughter signed “your Valentine,” healing a judges blind daughter (inspiring the judge to convert to Christianity), and other such things, but they do not seem strongly supported by evidence. Valentine’s life and death probably had little to do with romance, but more likely a love for God and neighbor; a love that always heals and brings new life. Valentine appears to have been beheaded for his faith, and his flower crowned skull is now venerated in a Roman Catholic cathedral. That is not a very romantic ending, but it did inspire many others toward faith in Jesus.

So, how might we best put the saint back into the day? Perhaps, we could strive to serve our neighbors somehow? How could we help heal others – in mind, body, or spirit? Families might seek to take the focus from romantic love and refocus on the mutual love that builds others up. It has become the practice of some to draw names and seek to do something nice for the person chosen. We might take some time to tell one another how we see God at work in them. We could do something nice for those in the healing profession or serving as first responders. We could even pray for the Church, especially the persecuted Church. No, I am not suggesting we need to avoid fancy dinners and chocolates entirely, but maybe there could be more to the day than some would have us believe.

Originally published in The Hub, a weekly email of Christ Lutheran Church, Fredericksburg, VA.

© 2021 The Rev. Louis Florio. All content not held under another’s copyright may not be used without permission of the author.

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Sleep well, dear Church

I recently read an article that indicated more than half the population has experienced sleep disruption due to the pandemic, protest violence, economic fears and more. And this finding came before the recent events at the Capitol! Most certainly, we tend to be a stressed, fearful and tired people these days. (And if statistics prove true, I suppose I do not really need to tell you that.)

So, where can we find rest? How is hope and peace possible during these times? I often start with a promise made by Jesus, “You will hear of wars and rumors of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come (Matthew 24:6).” To some, this might sound like a threat, but with open hearts, we hear these words with joy. Whatever happens today or tomorrow, the end will come. Nothing including our pain will last forever. We are due for an end with no ending; an eternal joy made complete. For the end Jesus speaks of is a new heaven, new earth, and our eternal, perfect life with him.

It won’t be easy as we wait for that day. I can’t tell you exactly what tomorrow will bring, but I know Jesus is already there in the future waiting to welcome us. And so, when I get anxious or afraid, that is who I turn to through scripture, songs of faith, and prayer. When I do so, I taste peace. I feel like I can stare down death in its face. It must be a bit like the Transfiguration experience of long ago. To be honest, I don’t want to leave those moments where grace breaks through. I want to escape the world and all its difficulties; to stay. Yet I know like the first Apostles, I cannot stay up on that mountain. I have work to do down below. The days of lasting peace are yet to come.

Through such spiritual disciplines, I can draw strength for my day from the Water of Life. I am reminded that I am not alone in any pain or my work, and my hope will not disappoint. Indeed, it helps change how I see my place in the world, as I find hope blooming like spring. I remain in communion with others of the Church. Despite all the rumors and threats always around us, we are never alone in seeking to watch, and wait, and love. Creation itself “waits with eager longing” (Romans 8:19-23).

As humans, we might wish to keep the pain of life far away, but what kind of life would that be? Jesus’ current work is in the valley. For now, anyway, that is perhaps where we might just need to be – with him – in order to serve and grow. And no matter our situation, others stuck in the valley need our loving witness, support, and prayer as well.

When a child, I used to pray for God to keep me as I slept. I trusted then that Jesus heard such prayers. Despite the angry adult voices and threats around us, he still does. God is only love, and it is God that loves us in our worry, sadness or joy. So sleep well, dear Church. Try to close your eyes and rest easy in the arms of Christ, even if you can only muster it for a few moments. For I find wisdom in what Victor Hugo is reported to have once observed:

“Have courage for the great sorrows of life and patience for the small ones; and when you have laboriously accomplished your daily task, go to sleep in peace. God is awake.”

This pastoral letter was originally published in Christ Lutheran Church’s February 2021 newsletter.

Image by Cdd20 on Pixaby. Used by permission.

© 2020 The Rev. Louis Florio. All content not held under another’s copyright may not be used without permission of the author.

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The Magnificat & Me

Look closely at the details to this window recalling the Magnificat (a story shared yesterday in many Christian churches). It is one of my favorites in the Ecumenical Community of Taizé’s Church of Reconciliation due to its simplicity, beauty and subject matter.

As I came back into my Christian faith as a young adult, this story of Mary served to remind me of how each of us in our own way is created, called and set apart by God. Our souls truly magnify the Lord, but especially as we but trust and seek to follow Jesus. God sees to that.

This simple revelation caused a profound change in my understanding of who I was and who I could become – who I am still becoming. Mary’s example and song helped empower me to change direction in my life from what had proven a very hopeless and wrong direction. God, I learned, saw something more in me than I had up to that point. When in France, I sat many hours by this window thinking and praying.

“My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior…”

Yes…yes, it does.

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Finding Christmas in 2020

Photo by Alexas_Fotos on Pixaby. Used by permission.

During the pandemic of 2020, it seems many people are being tempted to put our 2020 goggles on (rather than see the world with 20/20 vision) as we look toward the holiday season, especially Christmas. “There won’t be much to Christmas this year.” “Christmas won’t be like we remember it.” Some have wondered out loud if there will be any Christmas at all!

This is very human, but it is not seeing things very clearly. Among the greatest biblical truths regarding Christmas, we do not find feasts, bright colored lights, and gifts wrapped in bows. We find Jesus who came to us as a vulnerable babe to share our lot. In this incarnate form, he would grow up to face emotional wounds, isolation, sickness, physical suffering, and death. Members of his own family would reject him, at least for a time. In other words, he became fully human in a fallen world – just like us.

Yes, suffering was part of Christ’s experience, so it remains an important part of the Christmas story. A baby is born in abject poverty in unsanitary conditions. His parents are so poor, all he can be dressed in are bands of cloth. He is surrounded by threats: war and revolution, plagues, and early death accepted as a norm. His mother and father flee with their child to avoid assassination. A tyrant king sends his troops to kill innocent babes and toddlers in the insane hope of stopping God’s will. This is Christmas too.

And yet thanks to scripture, carols, family and community traditions over the years, we know that this is not the full story. To only focus on the negative would be like telling ourselves a lie. We hear angels come to announce good news of great joy for us amidst any suffering. We see poor and marginalized shepherds find hope in the Christ child. It is a hope so bursting with possibility, they cannot help but share it despite (or perhaps because of) the exceedingly difficult lives they share with their families and neighbors. We also learn how God protects those God loves. Yes, Jesus and his parents are protected, but we are told our God desires to offer that same protection and peace to all the earth. Amidst all the frightening and sad things, God’s loving will remains. Jesus has come for our good – to ultimately crush suffering, sin and death – and nothing will stop God’s will…not even our own doubts and fears.

A Spanish priest poetically answered the question of “Will there be a Christmas?” in this way:

Will there be Christmas? Of course! More silent and with more depth. More like unto the first one, when Jesus was born in solitude. Without many lights on earth, but with the star of Bethlehem shining on paths of life in its immensity. Without colossal royal processions, but with the humility of feeling as if we are shepherds, young and old, seeking the Truth. Without big tables and with bitter absences, but with the presence of a God who will fill everything.

Merry Christmas, dear Church. Let nothing trouble us, for Christ is here.

For the full text of Javier Leoz’s poem, read this article: https://aleteia.org/2020/11/13/pope-calls-spanish-priest-to-congratulate-him-for-will-there-be-christmas-reflection/

 This pastoral letter was originally published in Christ Lutheran Church’s December 2020 newsletter.

© 2020 The Rev. Louis Florio. All content not held under another’s copyright may not be used without permission of the author.

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