Can’t understand why some are upset over any potential autism registry? Culling data from medical records, pharmacies, genetic tests, even smartwatches reminds many of similar lists Nazis used to kill hundreds if not thousands of autistic and intellectually disabled kids. (It is estimated that close to 250,000 disabled people were murdered under the Nazi regime.) Whether one thinks it fair or not, likely to happen in the US or not, people are concerned, if not afraid.
It’s all being done because Secretary Kennedy is convinced autism is an epidemic. The term “epidemic” is typically used to describe a rapid increase in the incidence of a disease, and most reasearchers and medical professionals understand autism as a neurodevelopmental brain condition. It ignores that better tools and awareness has increased detection.
Many on the spectrum work, marry, and live full lives despite Kennedy’s suggesting otherwise this past week. His comments were not generous nor true. (I wonder what Kennedy’s friend, Elon Musk, thinks. He’s on the spectrum too.) And ultimately as a Christian, does one’s ability to produce make one more valuable in the Kingdom of God? The answer is no. Every life has value to God. They should to us as well.
This is ultimately the government accessing private medical histories for its own use – theoretically for research, but without any historically required consent. It’s instigated by a person with no true medcal knowledge, just theories too often echoing the evils of eugenics. He’s suggesting an answer to the causes of autism will be found by September because he has a preferred cause in sight based on his assumptions and half baked ideas, not scientific research. Nothing says that this proposed list won’t result in black lists of some kind, restrictions on rights or care, insurance loss, or who knows what.
We are a fallen humanity and capable of great evil, even when we think we are doing good. Now all of a sudden, it seems we are to trust the government (or anyone) implicitly? That’s ignoring biblical and real world realities. In fact, the US government doesn’t have such a great track record. (Nor does humanity in general.) Consider as just one example the moral depravity of the Tuskegee Experiment. And so, we must not be too quick to look away from your neighbors’ loss of privacy if not eventually many other rights. It can become a downward spiral. It could be any of us next.
Love of neighbor, in this case protecting and caring for those with special needs, is a call of all Christians and a civilized society. Meanwhile as debate rages over any registry, services to our autistic neighbors or loved ones (and others) are being cut. These cuts can lead to reduced access to therapy, longer wait times, increased financial burdens, and limitations in school-based services, potentially affecting low-income and rural families the most.
I understand cuts or changes in policies, but the ways this is being done is not loving our neighbors well. It has been utilitarian. This leads me to share why I am posting about this when just a pastor, not a medical professional. It’s because I love people on the spectrum and with intellectual disabilities – in and outside of my family over many years. I invite you to get to know such people better and love them too; supporting their families as you can and they allow. It can be hard in some cases, but no human is ever a curse. You will likely learn more about love, joy and Jesus on your way.
Image: Jerzy Hulewicz, Detail from “The Cross.” 1918; public domain
This April, our Jewish siblings recall several major events in their history once again. Among them, Passover Festival is from sundown, April 12, through sundown, April 20 this year. This marks the passing of the Angel of Death over Jewish homes and their subsequent flight from slavery. On April 12, 1951, the Knesset passed a resolution establishing 27 Nisan on the Jewish calendar, a week after Passover, and eight days before Israel’s Independence Day, as the annual Yom HaShoah or Holocaust Remembrance Day. In 2025, this begins on Wednesday, April 23rd. Yet in 1943, 27 Nissan was also the day of the brave Warsaw Uprising against the Nazis. It occurred on April 19 during that year.
Remembering the sadness of slavery and the evils of the Holocaust with them, you will often read or hear the words “gam zu latova” in Hebrew which means “this too is for the good.” Most certainly in the face of such horrors and ongoing struggles, it seems a bit difficult to say such hopeful words. Yet, these words are shared out of deep trust despite what is seen, reason, or any emotion. It is about God’s glory but also God’s pledged steadfast love to the descendants of Abraham. God will always be faithful, and God will make good eventually come from any bad.
It is a similar theological belief that had Paul, a former Pharisee, write, “We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28). One of my favorite passages, it reminds us that while we face any family discord or rift, struggle with sin, or threat from any evil, persecution or death itself, God will not let us down. God will change curse into blessing much as he did with Balaam’s curse of Israel in Deuteronomy 23:5. God does this because our Lord God loves us. It is just who God is.
As we have entered another Holy Week and face any stressors and discord internationally, nationally, or within our personal lives, we come to remember Jesus’ own suffering and death. In the face of defeat with our Lord Jesus on the cross, his disciples scattered and afraid, only a few daring to watch and wait amidst tears and wailing. As Jesus shouts (quoting the Psalmist), “Why have you forsaken me!” toward God the Father in heaven, we might struggle to call Holy Week holy or Good Friday good. Yet, we now know this barbarous, desolate scene is not the end of the story. As an old sermon proclaims, “It is Friday…but Sunday is coming.”
Although Jesus is now risen, a bigger and more perfect “Sunday” is still yet to come. We live in an in between time of Jesus’ Resurrection and Ascension and his coming again to make all things new. Only then, when the time is right, will Jesus end suffering and death and wipe away every tear (Revelation 21:4). This time that we find ourselves within is often hard. It might be appropriate to grieve. Yet, it is not the entire story. Jesus is coming, and we pray in hope and love that he comes soon.
Until then, we walk step by step in faith, trusting in what has not yet come to pass, sharing hope and love with others, because Jesus loves us and will not abandon us. It is just who Jesus is. It is who we are called to be. And although God might seem hidden, we can trust that God’s ultimate will for us, our perfect joy, is being somehow worked out in our present.
Despite his own experience with desolation and abandonment, overcoming death, Jesus promises that we are not and never will be alone. We will overcome too, thanks be to his unending love for us. We can sing with the ancient Church and Church yet to be, “Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again,” for it is true. Jesus does not lie. This life we share, hard as it might prove at times, will all be for the good.
Adapted from an essay written for the April 15, 2025 weekly newsletter, the Hub, of Christ Lutheran Church, Fredericksburg, VA.
Remains of St Bonaventure Roman Catholic Church, Philadelphia (2014). Photo credit: Abandoned America.
“Why do we tear and rip apart the members of Christ, and rebel against our own body and get worked up to such a frenzy that we forget that we are members of one another? Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, for it says, ‘Woe to that person, it would be better for him if he had not been born than to cause one of my elect to sin. It would have been better for him to be tied to a millstone and to sink into the sea than to turn away one of my elect.’ Your schism has turned many away, has plunged many into discouragement, many into doubt; all of us into grief, yet your rebellion is continuous!” – The First Epistle of Clement of Rome to the Church in Corinth, date uncertain, sometime before 70 AD or even at the end of the reign of Domitian (c. 96 AD).
I’ve recently been reading The Apostolic Fathers in English. The book includes ancient texts from the earliest days of the Church. Some are pastoral letters. Others were likely sermons. Yet they often reveal the controversies and arguments of their day.
Apparently the early Church was filled with ill tempered people prone to pride. They often seem to have struggled with submission to authority, and yet they seem to have needed more often than not the proverbial rod rather than the shepherd’s staff to keep them focused on the Gospel. They fought among themselves. They jockeyed for power and position. They could be dishonest as they did so. They became divided, sometimes hating one another. I have come to notice through my reading that early Christians were much like some of us modern Christians today.
In today’s world when a theological argument comes (as they will thanks to our limited human intelligence and sin), we are prone to split denominations or congregations rather than face the difficult call from Jesus to reconcile – or at least struggle towards reconciliation. These splits are often precipitated by one or two people shaping a consensus then drawing others into the fray. Paul warned the early Church about people stirring the proverbial church coffee pot and drawing up grounds of discontent. He writes, “I urge you, brothers and sisters, to keep an eye on those who create dissensions and hindrances, in opposition to the teaching that you have learned; avoid them. For such people do not serve our Lord Christ but their own appetites, and by smooth talk and flattery they deceive the hearts of the simple-minded.” Certainly, their appetites could reflect greed or a desire for power, a disordered search for significance or other sin, but sometimes, people causing such disarray don’t realize it. It might not be intentional. They can be acting out over wounds of their own past. Unhealthy people can make unhealthy choices. They can also influence others.
Likewise, my social media feed gets too often filled with Christians demonizing one another intentionally or not. For example, “Lutherans,” some Christians posted recently, “are sex traffickers and money launderers.” These posts came into being because member agencies of Lutheran Services of America help our federal government contractually serve citizens and others in need within our country’s jurisdiction. Often, these agencies do so more cost effectively than if the government did it themselves. Through such government contracts and grants from other entities, one in fifty Americans are helped through addressing all kinds of needs – foster care, adoptions, at risk schools, senior services, homes for the physically and intellectually disabled, and much more. Services can include immigrants and refugees. And there lies the rub…
As member nonprofits already provided foster care and adoption services since the 1800s, they have been asked by past administrations (both Republican and Democrat) to help care for unescorted minors in the United States for decades. With an history dating back to World War II helping refugees, they were requested to help with the currently unpopular task of assisting immigrants and refugees. They do only what they are asked to do by the government or through grants as legally contracted to do. If one doesn’t like a program, individual grants and contracts can be cancelled or redefined. No one is helped to run across our nation’s border. Laws aren’t broken, and the organizations are audited annually by outside groups. They operate in a way where any profits go toward maintenance of current efforts or establishing new services. Lutheran Services in America even has a four star, 100% rating on Charity Navigator.
Yet, I see some people openly espousing Christian values on social media, then they turn to virtually shout that these organizations are betraying our nation, corrupt, and “getting rich.” They often wrongly conflate independent nonprofits with denominations as they do so and repeat false claims heard elsewhere with more rumors than evidence. No reason or fact mitigates their attacks. All remain guilty in their minds, even as independent nonprofits (like people) can vary in quality and performance. Yes, Roman Catholic, Episcopal, and other denominational efforts are condemned in similar ways.
Further, I have seen other Christian people who support such nonprofits denounced by these publicly self-identified Christians. They can be called “libtards,” parasites, and worse. The negative rhetoric of television personalities, radio hosts, podcasters, or even memes can infect the body of Christ and spread. In Philippians 4, Paul requests, “Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.” Rather than being anxious and angry, he suggests that trusting in God and turning to him with hope “will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” He commands, “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” Instead, too many modern Christians keep a list of transgressions both real and imagined. Focusing on these, they lose their peace and too often their tempers.
As I’ve written elsewhere, when it comes to the growing influence of New Apostolic Reformation (NAR) churches, it can become much worse. Those who disagree with the NAR view are said to be possessed by demons, thus they need to be soundly defeated if not (amidst extreme adherents) wiped out. They adhere to a Seven Mountain Mandate, seven aspects of society that believers seek to gain influence and dominate to prepare if not precipitate Christ’s return: family, religion, education, media, arts and entertainment, business, and government. The problem comes when abuse and problematic techniques are employed; when sin is excused in the pursuit of power. The disease spreads as elements of the teaching become accepted by other Christians. Battle lines are drawn.
Some avowed Christians with NAR backgrounds in the government or influenced by similar theologies have thus reluctantly called the above organizations providing social services and the people supporting them Christian, for they will only do so in quotes. It seems clear that they wish to insinuate that such organizations and people are not Christian, at least in the way that they define Christians. In fact, they aren’t afraid to call other Christians’ salvation in doubt or claim they are controlled by literal demons. Those who do such things bring to my mind the Super Apostles of Paul’s time who were neither super nor Apostles in Paul’s assessment (see 2 Corinthians 11). Unfortunately, many of the President’s spiritual advisors reflect this theological view, and its unyielding harshness has made its way subtly yet influentially into our political speech.
Bearing false witness is a serious sin causing brokenness no matter what positive goals we might claim. Yet, I have had pastors and other Christians (most often Baptist, Evangelical, or conservative Roman Catholic) tell me privately that they can live with statements they know to be false, coarse, even overtly sinful during this political season of history because the ends in their mind are good. (I was taken aback that they so easily excused such behaviors.)
Luther’s comments extensively about the commandment not to bear false witness in his Large Catechism. He expands our understanding of the commandment beyond legal necessities to all offenses of the tongue, “For it is a common evil plague that every one prefers hearing evil to hearing good of his neighbor; and although we ourselves are so bad that we cannot suffer that any one should say anything bad about us, but every one would much rather that all the world should speak of him in terms of gold, yet we cannot bear that the best is spoken about others.”
If things cannot be properly proved, don’t say them. If you hear of secret sins that are not “notorious” (illegalities or causing significant harm to others), keep them secret. And interpret your neighbors’ actions in the most generous way possible, for we will be judged as we judge our neighbors (Matthew 7:2). We also are taught to pray by Jesus. We are to ask that we be forgiven our trespasses/sin/debts as we forgive others in the Lord’s Prayer.
Luther further writes, “and it is especially an excellent and noble virtue for one always to explain advantageously and put the best construction upon all he may hear of his neighbor (if it be not notoriously evil), or at any rate to condone it over and against the poisonous tongues that are busy wherever they can pry out and discover something to blame in a neighbor, and that explain and pervert it in the worst way.” As I have asked my pastor friends who feel differently than me, I will ask you, dear blog reader, “Does the end justify the means?” As far as I have seen, Jesus never taught us that. Let our yes mean yes and our no mean no, and love even your enemies (Matthew 5). Jesus says, “be wise as serpents and innocent as doves” (Matthew 10:16), but he never tells us to be bullies. Meekness is the way of Jesus. To take up our cross is what he modeled.
Certainly in the age of DOGE, it is easy to find examples of right leaning Christians attacking the left leaning ones, as such hot button issues regarding cuts to social service, education, and immigration are for the present often in the forefront of the news. Yet leftist Christians can be just as insensitive, callous, and hateful as they speak or post about rightist Christians. For they are human, too.
I’ve mentioned elsewhere that conservative leaning Christians can be called fascist or Nazis just because they might want to secure borders, address concerns about violent crime, and promote economic growth. Certainly, as with the left, some among the right can go to excess in their dogmatic pursuit of political ends. Some can indeed sin or support sinful policies. Yet, the basic goals represented are not always or automatically unreasonable. One could come up with policies between a wide open border and one sealed completely shut for example. Yet, we tend to be rigid like Pharisees when it comes to our politics, even though we are called as Christians to be open to the possibility of much more. God says in Isaiah 43:19,
I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth; do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.
Then during the sometimes violent demonstrations and riots against police use of force over the last decade, I was indeed treated differently if not rudely by some other pastors who could not understand or did not seem to like that I was a police chaplain. One pastor I know in a position of authority spent time questioning not just police policies but the need for police. Fair enough, I suppose, at least philosophically, although I think that assertion misguided. Yet, a number of that pastor’s social media posts during that period went further calling all police blue thugs…in effect calling me who had been an officer a blue thug, too. (This epithet echoed the too often misdirected anger of a popular theologian at the time.) There was no public openness to recognize that each officer and agency is different even as they all struggle with sin. One should not assume all people in a neighborhood are criminals. One should offer law enforcement officers the same amount of grace.
And further in these times of heightened tensions over “culture wars,” I had two younger pastors insist that I would not understand an issue because of my generation. They continued to speak on the issue as if I was not there. (Ironically as liberal politically as they viewed themselves, they exemplified the bias called ageism.) Certainly, context matters. Our knowledge is impacted by our experiences. Yet, that doesn’t mean that a person cannot have understanding or empathy. In denying that truth, sometimes even well meaning people can be blind.
In addition, I have seen people who often post about their faith attack me as a “bad” pastor/priest and poor Christian when I post something they don’t like or understand. For example, I suggested turning the other cheek over the Paris Olympic scandal – a transgender portrayal of the Last Supper during the opening ceremonies. Yes, it was insensitive to many conservative Christians’ worldview. Sure, they would not likely portray Mohammed in a similar way. Definitely, Christians disagree over gender issues and much more. Yet why waste time raging?
Paul, the great Apostle and missionary, gives this advice, “Therefore, as God’s choice, holy and loved, put on compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience.” I think I was on pretty solid ground to try to act and talk about the issue patiently in love rather than react in anger calling people names.
Still, one old friend asked how I could not be mad. They were mad at me for not being mad! Well, I have known people oppressed by laws forbidding faith practices, physically tortured, threatened with death because they loved Jesus. A potentially rude skit (depending on one’s beliefs perhaps) seems a regrettable but much lower threat to Christianity to me. Indeed, Christ can defend himself and has looked with kindness toward greater transgressions – like people abusing him and hanging him on a cross. So, let us offer such insensitive people forgiveness. They likely don’t truly know what they do.
And in response to my concerns over confirmed war crimes of the Russian Army in Ukraine or the US taking over Greenland “one way or another,” “no matter what,” I’ve had a fellow Christian try to shame me publicly in their own posts. I was to him a pastor against peace and security when I’m anything but. Some others have claimed I am being political when I am rather trying to suggest that we cannot ignore war crimes as Christians even as overall policy and goals might need to be debated. We should not threaten (even by insinuation) to take by force other lands against the will of the people who live there. We should demand honesty and transparency rather than lies or half truths when government policies on intelligence matters are violated, employee reduction of force is outside of regulations and laws and completed in an insulting way to people who dedicated their lives to service, or our potentially wrongly deporting people is at stake. If the government has admitted one mistake, potentially there can be or will be others.
Yet, Christians are imperfect humans, often casting us all into grief as Clement suggests. Another person responding to one of my posts swore in their own, “I don’t give a F**K about those who are unhappy about Ukraine. I’m sticking with my President.” All the while, their Christian identity was flaunted in multiple pictures on their page. What about sticking with Christ to defend an innocent populace; to try to offer justice with mercy as we strive for peace? Or how about being patient or kind amidst disagreements? That’s a better way in my mind. I’m not political for suggesting this, but I am humbly trying to apply Christian ethics as we work toward any goals. I believe we are capable of being more just and loving.
Christians have always had disagreements with one another because they are human and can err at any time. I am not foolish enough to think that I am not blind to my own bias and sin. We all are blinded by our pride and lack of faith at times. It is a good reason to listen to one another – especially those who disagree with us. They might see something that we…that I…don’t. Indeed, my Lutheran heritage suggests that our will is always in bondage to sin, and we cannot do or speak good without God’s help. So, we need to constantly reflect and pray about what we are to do and say. I confess that I can always be wrong when it comes to my thoughts on our political, communal life together. Yet, bishops and priests are called to address sin wherever they see it, as best as they can anyway, despite their personal weakness or imperfections.
Thus, trying to apply scripture to the real world can always be dicey if not done with humility, prayer, and the recognition that you can be wrong. It’s always imperfect. This means we should not hold people hostage in the pews during sermons, spouting overtly political policy statements, at least in all but the most unusual cases. Those in the pews can’t raise questions or respond back during the usual sermon. I have found it always easier, more productive, and fair to discuss bigger questions in small groups while sitting or standing face to face.
That said, Christians still might need to refer to current events in sermons, blogs, podcasts, or social media posts because that’s where we will find our modern people. If attempting to communicate over hot button issues, I think we should urge for people to love better and more, to remember grace not just utilitarian ideals, to encourage empathy and compassion, to condemn lies by commission or omission or any other deceitful acts, and encourage people to look to scripture with others and seek the Spirit’s guidance. And let us not forget that we need to be about our God-given work (within our worldly vocation) to serve as agents of reconciliation offering others forgiveness and peace in Christ’s name not condemnation. Addressing world events or public errors through the lens of Christian ethics and with a spirit of gentleness and grace is not being political if done soberly. Even Paul rebuked Peter and others when in Antioch over their hypocrisy.
Ultimately, I’m not talking about policy here. I’m suggesting that how we treat one another, speak to one another, post about one another, and even think about one another are all part of our public witness about Jesus. We must be rooted in Jesus even as we walk in the world. For, our children can be shaped by what we do or fail to do. Non-Christians can be pushed away by our infighting and hostility.
In this day of anonymous attacks, conspiracy theories, interpreting things in the worst way instead of through a lens of grace, and with half truths or outright lies being reposted without a care on social media and sometimes even shared through sermons, we modern Christians become guilty of a similar if not magnified sin brought up in the ancient text quoted above. “Why do we tear and rip apart the members of Christ, and rebel against our own body and get worked up to such a frenzy that we forget that we are members of one another?” This should give us all reason to pause.
With increased hostility on social media particularly since President Trump’s inauguration, I have posted several times that arguing on social media is vanity – as all things are vanity. It is a useless exercise too often ending in broken relationship. Mobs of people – sometimes people you don’t know – can seek to force one to defend an observation, prove an assertion, and ultimately submit to their favored view as they post article after rebutting article with an angry insult or accusation like a cherry on top. Memes and sarcasm often pass for debate. Insults become a norm.
Still in this time when the louder voices (not necessarily wiser ones) are often heard most clearly and other people fear being bullied, people with important things to say can wrongly choose to remain quiet out of fear. So, I often receive a thank you message or even a call as I try to reframe issues or address what I think might be wrong – hopefully politely and nonanxiously while referencing scripture and Christian values. People long to hear dissenting yet reassuring voices rather than the most angry ones. They are glad to see mature behaviors and dialogue fostering peace rather than conflict. As for me, if I feel insulted or triggered by what others say, I, too, can consider what they wrote, turn my cheek, and scroll away. Dissenting and minority views need to be heard, or else we risk a tyranny of the majority, a form of group think potentially affirming injustice from the left or the right. Engaging people with gentleness and respect, offering empathy and compassion, are biblical models of discourse despite so many modern denials.
A friend asked why I still post articles and observations if I think arguing on social media is such a waste of time. He posted that my practice to post opinions, articles, and blog pieces seemed ironic in view of my assertion. Well, love much like arguing is always a choice. I can still post articles which I think are important and speak about weighty issues, but I can choose whether to engage others or not. I don’t even have to allow for comments (using social media controls) if I don’t want to, because people can read what I post or ignore it. And to be honest, I don’t have time to type my arguments back and forth all day when I have more important work to do.
Meanwhile in the very real world, we can find positive examples of repentance and reconciliation. My former congregation had suffered a major split. Ultimately, the pastor was blamed by many for the congregation failing to grow. I believe that he did do some things wrong in trying to address his accusers, but the congregation was stuck in a rut. People to often said to new people, “We don’t do it that way,” and sidebar conversations fostering dissent were common problems. These behaviors are often identified by research as church-busting behaviors and attitudes. Rumors, gossip, and angry words took a toll. All the while, people left. They did not come to church in order to take sides and fight. They longed for something else entirely. Eventually, there was a vote to remove the pastor who did not want to leave. It was a tie, broken by the President of the Council whom voted to keep the pastor. Things deteriorated from there until they had to choose between what bill to pay. They were running out of people, money, and time.
Digging out of this situation was a Spirit-led process. The remaining members, previously addicted to infighting, hit a bottom of sorts. They repented from their past behaviors in community. They became open not only to change but perhaps importantly more open to God and others. During the recovery period, there was a lot of hard work by the Assistant to the Bishop Jean Bozeman, the Interim Pastor John Waltonen, and the leaders of the congregation and its people to help them heal, forgive and reconcile. Prayer and biblically honest self-reflection were a big part of the process.
When I came into the community as pastor, I was asked to continue that journey with them, and together we grew not just in numbers but in love for one another and in shared mission outside of our doors. After a few years passed, the bishop at the time said we had become a new people. Where neighbors said they previously did not even recognize there was a church in our lot, local county authorities began to call our community a hub of the county for our congregation’s welcome of others to use our resources, a willingness to work with other community groups to help neighbors, and our loving others even when we received nothing in return. It was a beautiful thing to see and to be part of. It stands as a witness to Jesus and the power of his Spirit, and there are many more miracles that I could report from my eleven years there.
So, if we think that as the people of God that we cannot change, that we must conform to the behaviors of the world around us in order to get by, well, that itself is a lie. Before I was ever ordained, I had a foundational, transformative experience that later informed my approach to ministry. I tasted what the Church can be at its best. I was deeply blessed to have encountered the example of Brother Roger of Taizé and eventually live with him and his community.
You might know that Br. Roger helped refugees and Jews in Vichy France risking his own arrest. He helped German released prisoners of war following World War II. He continued to reach out to and support his French neighbors who were communist or anti-church as the community sought to recover from the war together. Over time, he attracted people to Christ through the authentic love which he lived – not badgering or bullying or vilifying. Br. Roger sought to embody Christ, and soon others came to share in his vision and life. The Community of Taizé is an ecumenical one, half Protestant and half Roman Catholic, and church leaders can come from all kinds of Christian traditions to reflect, discuss, and learn while visiting. Popes, Patriarchs, political leaders, authors and more have come.
In addition, thousands of young adults can also come to that small village each week from all the inhabited continents and across denominations. Some young adults just show up because they hear lots of young adults are there, but many more come seeking something deeper. Through a ministry of hospitality and a community centered on becoming a living parable of trust based on the Beatitudes, people often come to see Christ and the Church in an entirely new and vibrant way. Again, love is a choice, and when we gather, not to dominate but to serve, not to just speak but to listen, as one Church in common fellowship despite important theological, political, ethnic or other differences, people can begin to see the Risen Christ alive in us. And we might be blessed to catch a glimpse of Jesus in them, too.
In lieu of schisms, we can seek unity. In the face of anger, we can refuse to respond in kind. For as the Second Epistle of Clement critiqued Christians of that day, when people who do not believe in Jesus “see that not only do we [Christians] not love those who hate us, but that [we do] not even [love] those who love us, they laugh at us and the name [of Jesus] is blasphemed.” How we do things, accomplish things, talk about things, is as important as any goal or value that we espouse. Yet if our words, actions and hearts don’t reflect love especially to other Christians, let us not fool ourselves. We are not of Christ but more like children splashing in the dank puddle of our sin rather than the wide and deep waters of our baptism. We need to repent and do better. For, we bear the name of Christ. That is to remain our primary identity at all times – over national, political, ethnic, or racial identities. We are in this world, but not of this world. As Jesus prayed, he is in us, and he wants to be seen. He longs for us to be one, not tearing one another apart.
No indeed, we are not the first in salvation history to be hardhearted, stiff necked, and prone to taking our eyes off of God in order to pursue bright and shiny objects of our desires in this world. In our hubris, we can too easily strive to be our own god. Whereas, Ephesians 5:1-2 urges, “So try to be like God, because you are his own dear children. Love others as Christ has loved us. He gave his life for us, a sweet smelling offering and a sacrifice to God.”
This is a struggle as old as time itself ongoing in all of us. So as the Israelites transitioned from slavery into freedom, as they moved from being tribal to one nation, God gave them this direction that speaks to us, too, “Circumcise, then, the foreskin of your heart, and do not be stubborn any longer. For the Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who is not partial and takes no bribe, who executes justice for the orphan and the widow, and who loves the strangers [immigrants], providing them food and clothing.”
If we wish to become one as Jesus prayed, we must always seek to somehow bless “the other” in whatever we do. We are to seek to love one another as ourselves (Mark 12:28-31) – at home, school, work, in politics, and yes, even on social media. Especially as Christ’s body, we are to remember Christ’s instructions as he shared his Last Supper with those he loved, “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (John 13: 34-35).
Tearing one another apart should be deemed anathema whatever the fears we face, our feelings, or excuses. For we are “called to be saints, together with all those who in every place call on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, both their Lord and ours” (1 Corinthians 1:2b).
Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this post are from the New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition (NRSVue) translation.
“Christ healing the blind,” by Thobias Minzi, Tanzania (2010)
This morning as we come within a day’s walk from Jesus’ goal, the cross, we hear the third of three predictions within Luke’s account of Jesus’ death and resurrection. These predictions have been gifted to his disciples to help them prepare themselves for what must come – a future they have been resisting. “Everything that is written about the Son of Man by the prophets will be accomplished,” Jesus taught, to include his suffering and death. The cross cannot be avoided.
So, who’s responsible for Jesus’ suffering and death? These three prophecies give us a clue. In the first prophesy (Luke 9:21-22), Jesus accuses the elders and chief priests and scribes of what will come. During the second (Luke 9:44), Jesus says he will be handed over the hands of men – all humankind is hinted at here, including the Passover mob in Jerusalem. They will soon shout for another’s release rather than for the release of our beloved Jesus. In the third prediction (from today’s sermon text), we hear that he will be handed over to the Gentiles, nonbelievers, the Romans, and he will be mocked and insulted and spat upon. The religious authorities against Jesus, the Romans and powers of this world, and we ourselves share responsibility for Jesus’ death. For through our sinfulness and participation in the fallen nature of this world, we all share guilt in his condemnation. Not one of us is free of this sin. For even as he “died for us,” Jesus died for our sins.
You might also notice that Luke’s account leading to Christ’s cross is not a straight-line journey geographically. Jesus has wondered a bit to attend to his ministry and await the right time. Yet it remains a journey of destiny…a fulfillment and offering of all that Jesus is and has for the sake of others. And as he speaks of his death, this love for the world, Jesus often teaches that disciples (including us) have our own crosses to bear as we might be ridiculed, attacked, or even killed for our faith – our trust in Jesus. Yet, our cross is also found in the sacrificial love we are to offer each day to others including our enemies – such things as patience, charity and care, as well as forgiveness. In doing so, we are to die to ourselves. We lay aside our will and our good in order to fulfill God’s will and the good of others. (Whether they deserve it or not is not the issue at all, for we don’t deserve our Christ’s love or salvation either – not one of us.)
Surprisingly, his disciples still don’t get it. They are blind. In fact, Luke says so in three ways. (There’s that number three again, a symbol of divine fullness and completion in Jewish numerology.) The three phrases describing the disciples blindness drive Luke’s point home for us as if they are three nails being pounded into Jesus’ two hands and feet: “They understood nothing…it was hidden from them…they did not grasp what was said to them.” These three descriptions of Jesus’ followers are somewhat ironic, for you might recall Jesus’ visit to a synagogue where he first preached. It was among his earliest words spoken as reported by Luke.
Remember? Jesus took a scroll and read from Isaiah (Isa. 61): “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”
Along with other promises of the prophets, this passage revealed the essence of Jesus and his purpose among us. Jesus has come to save and to heal…to seek out the lost, forgotten and suffering…for those that are blind. As we prepare for Jesus’ Palm Sunday entrance to Jerusalem, today’s stories where he heals the literally and figuratively blind serve almost like a bookend to his reading from Isaiah as he began his public mission.
This time, Jesus will embody Isaiah’s promises. Just outside of Jericho, an unnamed blind man demands healing. “Son of David, have mercy on me!” Son of David was a traditional, prophetic title anticipated for the Messiah. And Jesus hearing the beggar stops…and Jesus heals. Yet, it is almost a non-miracle miracle. There’s no grand pronouncement or discourse. There’s no mumbo jumbo like a magician or any concrete action on Jesus’ part. No one is touched. No, he simply declares, “Receive your sight; your faith has saved you.” The man saw Jesus for who he was with the Spirit’s help, with the gift of faith…of trust in Jesus. Then, that’s when healing happened. A new life for this culturally and religiously marginalized man began.
And as Jesus finally enters Jericho, we meet the beloved Zacchaeus made popular in the children’s song. And if you have been to VBS, you likely recall that he’s a rich but wee little man. Certainly, he was short, but he was also little esteemed by his neighbors because of the way he lived. He was short in stature and status – a traitor working for Rome, a cheat as tax collectors of this days often were, and despised and hated as a sinner. Yet, Zacchaeus had come to a point of spiritual poverty too. As a chief tax collector, a Jew turned chief oppressor to his people…a neighbor who stole from and cheated others…a person who lived for himself first… he died a bit more each day inside from his sin. Zacchaeus was blind in a different way than the first man, yet blind, nonetheless. And hearing of Jesus, he appears at some level to understand who Jesus was. He felt a need for Jesus and healing, and the Spirit drew him toward Jesus.
And so, hoping against hope, Zacchaeus climbs a tree to just catch a glimpse of Jesus…Perhaps, he’s much like the woman who weeks ago we heard desired to just touch the hem of Jesus’ garments and be healed. Jesus saw Zacchaeus in his hunger and hope, way up, hidden in the tree, and before Zacheus even had the chance to ask for it, Jesus declared Zacchaeus’ healed. “I must stay at your house today.” That’s joyfully what Jesus said. It is what Jesus does. It is who he is. He welcomes people into relationships with him and forgives them. As the Pharisees and others so often grumble and accuse, Jesus enjoys being the guest of sinners. Jesus is not ashamed to be seen with them, for he has come to find, and to heal, and to save them…to save us.
This encounter between Jesus and Zacchaeus reminds me of a scene reported by Matthew 8 where a centurion says, “Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof (to be my guest), but only say the word, and my servant will be healed.” Now in this story, another similar non-miracle miracle has happened with Zaccheus…no pretense…no show…just blindly trusting in who Jesus is with his heart. Through that gift of trust, Jesus heals Zacchaeus’ spiritual blindness. Knowing his hunger Knowing his need. He is not worthy to receive Jesus under his roof or in his heart, yet Jesus doesn’t stand for that. He comes to him anyway.
In response, Zacchaeus is so emotionally and spiritually touched, he says that he will make amends for what he has done beyond that called for by the laws of Moses. He’s going to be more generous than necessary. And yet note that he is forgiven before he ever, ever, ever makes a commitment to any penance. He’s making amends…his desire to love others and make things right…it is a response to his being loved first. (Just as in 1 John 4:19, we, are to love because God in Jesus loved us first.)
Jesus affirms Zacchaeus and his own purpose by saying, “Today salvation has come to this house, because [Zacchaeus] too is a son of Abraham.” Abandoned by the Jewish community…left outside the family of Abraham as far as they are concerned, Zacchaeus seems like a hopeless case. Yet Jesus has fulfilled God the Father’s promise to Abraham and his descendants (see Genesis 12:1-3 and Genesis 17) that his children would be heirs to God’s love forever. Never forgotten. Never alone. Never abandoned. This is just as Jesus will remember and fulfill his promises to us who believe…who trust him.
Yes, whatever our blindness…whatever our own poverty and need…Jesus knows it before we even ask. (We cannot hide our sin from Jesus. We cannot hide our needs. He knows!) In the blindness of the disciples…in the blindness of the beggar or Zacchaeus…in the blindness of our own sin…Jesus’ journey was and remains about his seeking out and saving the lost. Healing the blind was one of the great Messianic miracles forecasted, predicted, promised in Isaiah. And, it proves the final miracles that Jesus will perform before he enters Jerusalem for the last time.
The beggar and Zacchaeus had no right to expect anything, and yet Jesus knew of their need and responded in love. He reflected the great and profound Jewish virtue of hesed. It is a hard to define word as it incorporates an ongoing love, mercy, grace and kindness…the love of God. It is a quality that moves someone to act for the sake of the other…not expecting anything in return…not considering what is in it for them. It is a love reflecting how God loves His people genuinely, immutably, loyally, generously. It is what Jesus shows in his life. It is who Jesus is. It is the love that we are called to share in his name in our families, other relationships, and as we participate in the political and unfair and “real” world that’s around us. We are to seek to love for Love’s sake…God’s sake….For, God is only love (1 John 4:8).
Next Sunday is Palm Sunday, the start of Holy Week. We are invited to walk with Jesus in remembrance as he travels within the city of Jerusalem and accepts his cross. It is a time within our liturgical year which challenges us to understand Jesus better…to look beyond our own sin and suffering to try to grasp onto his own purpose….his passion for us and our world…his grace. It is another opportunity to invite Jesus under our roof and into our hearts again, so that by his word we may be healed. Then, we are to go into the world to love, serve, care and reconcile in thanksgiving for this gift.
“Come down,” Jesus tells each of us, “Follow me. I have a surprise for you. Salvation has come to your house. I want to dine with you, because I love you. Will you let me in?….Will you trust me that I won’t lie to you?” Through trusting in and sharing that perfect hesed which is Jesus…a new journey may begin for us where we seek to follow his example…But following Christ’s own example, he asks us to also to look beyond our household, and our congregations, and our human borders – interpersonal, cultural, racial, geographical, political, whatever borders you want to define! “Go beyond them,” he says, “I want to call all people to myself” (John 12:32). We are not to be like the grumbling scribes and pharisees judging people as fallen too far. We are to look for the poor, the captive, the blind, the oppressed, and the lost that are all around us…to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor (echoing Jesus’ own words). We are to do so in his holy name as a joyful penance, as amends…not to gain anything, but as a thank you. For we are why he died…and it is through his death and rising, he has gifted us eternal life with him. Amen.
If you would like to hear my sermon or watch our service, the video can be found below. The Gospel text and sermon begins at about the 18:22 minute mark.The preaching text isLuke 18:31—19:10.
Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this post are from the New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition (NRSVue) translation.
The “Stunads all of you” t-shirt can be found at Paisano Prints.
Often as we hear the parables of the lost sheep, the lost coin, and what some might also call the parable of the lost son (better known as the Prodigal Son), they might often be broken up and addressed as individual teaching stories. Yet the Narrative Lectionary (our assigned readings) that we are using right now intentionally challenges us to look at them differently. How might we see something new or hear something different if these parables are lumped together?
The lost sheep, the lost coin, the lost son…just naming the parables in that way starts us to see a sacred thread of meaning woven within them. The lead up to this “unit” of scripture is Jesus with his face set toward Jerusalem. He is going there to suffer and die for all people…all people…to draw them to himself. As he goes, he heals people, dines with others, and this all becomes a time for teaching. He speaks to crowds again and again as they follow him as well as smaller groups around tables, banquets of sorts in his honor. Most often, he does so in parables or teaching stories.
Often these three stories are interpreted in a very personal, grace-filled way. We see ourselves as sinners struggling, and our Savior, the Light of the world, comes to us as the lost sheep, lost coin, or lost son in our darkness. And that’s a true and worthy interpretation. We are all sinners, some historically on a grander scale than others, but all of us are addicted to sin. We cannot help ourselves, and all sin separates us from the love of God, one another, and even the “true self” (the person) that God hopes for us to become. We need salvation! We need a savior to find us and bring us home.
I know this is a very common interpretation from the many commentaries that I have read, but also the personal stories that I have heard shared at Bible studies over the years. And even as a young person, someone who felt like an outsider, I often related well to this understanding of the stories. For it remains true, that God loves us and was willing to do anything for us, even die on a cross, so that we might come to understand and live in that love that’s being offered us. God’s greatest treasure is you, and you have been sought out, and waited for patiently, and run too to be embraced, so that you and all who believe might come to understand this great, sacred, life-giving love is for us.
Still, these are parables, right? These are a teaching method of Christ’s time meant to challenge the student, inviting us to wrestle. There’s no one meaning to a parable…not necessarily one best meaning. It can speak to us over and over again as we move forward in life and learning. So this morning, I want to suggest that we might like to look at the placement of this story more closely as a start.
Before today’s scene, Jesus has just spoken about humility and hospitality. These are meant to be great Christian virtues and an ongoing, embodied attitude in our daily lives. He then shares a parable of a great banquet. The invited guests made excuses – concerns about wealth, property, and family – and they refused to come. So, more are invited that do come, but there is still room. So, the master says to the slave, “Go out into the roads and lanes, and compel people to come in, so that my house may be filled” (Luke 14:15-24).
Then, Jesus speaks once again about the cost of discipleship. “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.” He has mentioned such things before in Luke, but here it is a bit different. Taking up the cross requires all kinds of sacrifices and costs, not just literal death. He’s asking the crowds if they are ready to give up all they possess – family, friends, wealth, reputation – to do what is right and follow him. Yes, we might even have to give up our long-held expectations and assumptions about others who Jesus is calling…even those who might be our traditional enemies. That’s a kind of surrender too, a cross bearing of sorts.
And then we come to yet another dinner, today’s passage. Who gathers near to him? It is the tax collectors and sinners. They gather near while the Pharisees and scribes are stand offish. “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them,” that’s what the proud grumble. There’s that theme again – invitation, hospitality, giving up predispositions and long held expectation in order to welcome others. Ahh, now that gives us something to think about. What if we are not just the lost, but also like the Pharisees and scribes in these stories?
In the parable of the lost sheep, the shepherd abandons everything to seek out the lost one. In the parable of the lost coin, the woman does everything to seek for her treasure – little though it might seem. In the parable of the lost son, it is true the father waits for his son’s return, loving him from afar as the son wonders aimlessly. Yet, the father sees him approaching home because he never stopped looking for him to come home. With every glimpse at the horizon, the father would wonder where his son was and actively, hopefully scanned for his return. And what about the faithful son – the son who served seemingly without much thanks (at least in his own mind)? He has no room for welcome in his heart. He cannot even call the other man his brother. He says, “That’s your son…that son of yours…nothing to do with me.” He is too concerned about himself and his own status when he should see that his brother’s needs just might be greater than his own.
Now if we reflect, we’ve seen such stubbornness before in others in scriptural passages. We might sometimes see it in ourselves. You might know that on March 19th, it was St. Joseph’s Day, a traditional Italian celebration like St. Patrick’s Day, but a lot more pastry. I’m part Italian, so on that day, I saw an advertisement on social media targeting me. I saw a t-shirt for sale that had Jesus looking downward in sadness and beneath him were the words, “Stunads,all of you.” Stunads is an Italian American phrase (slang) that means “stupid.” “Stupid people, all of you!” Jesus on the t-shirt is perhaps with disbelief, saying, “Stupid, all of you.” Jesus in sadness, frustration, and dismay is confessing on that t-shirt that he is disappointed with us. We’ve let him down. It is an Italian American company that makes that shirt, but perhaps they are secretly Lutheran or Calvinist. For we, too, are supposed to recognize that we are stupid. We are selfish and we sin because we don’t see the big picture. We need help for that, forgiveness for that.
It might be shocking to some to see such an image and read those words, but this is not much different than John the Baptist. Remember what he called those who should know better but are resistant to his invitation and judgmental of others? He calls them a brood of vipers. It is reminiscent of Jesus own frequent words of grief, “you of little faith.” “You’ve disappointed me.” Humans have been stiff necked and tribal since before God said to Moses, “Go and tell the children of Israel that they are stiff necked people”…In Hebrew, that means they are haughty, stubborn, obstinate, churlish, severe, hard hearted, and harsh. We are stunads…stupid people bent inward upon ourselves as Luther says…lost in our depravity as Calvin says…always, always, we are bondage to sin…Sin impacts our decisions and the way we look at others in the world, and we need help. We are stupid and blind in our sin; thinking we are better and more self-sufficient than we are.
At about that same time, a friend of mine came across a quote from Penn Jillette, of the popular magicians, Penn and Teller. He is a well-known atheist who reflected upon someone’s attempt to share about Jesus with him. Penn insisted that he was not upset. He was touched. He said, “If you believe there is a heaven and hell, and you think it’s not worth telling someone about it because it would make it socially awkward, how much do you have to hate [that person] to not proselytize?” If this is true, than why are you hiding this truth from others. “To believe that everlasting life is possible and not tell people?” he asks, “This man cared enough about me to proselytize.” And that touched his heart.
My friend reading these words felt convicted, and although not a pastor or priest or church leader of any kind, he mustered these deep and meaningful words of faith, a confession and a hope: “This hits hard. I’m reminded of opportunities I’ve had to speak on this issue and passed. Because I’m all too aware of my own failures. But it’s not about me. It’s about Jesus. Who is the Son of God. Who died for our sins and rose again. There will one day be judgement for our choice of accepting Jesus or not.”
What if through such parables Jesus is speaking to both the believing sinner and the Pharisee that’s within each of us – the imperfect saint and overconfident, judgmental sinner? Within scripture, we see some Pharisees and other religious leaders rebuked because they judge. In their mind, the sinner is too far gone. They’ve lost any value. They aren’t worth seeking for, nor talking too. They are a little bit concerned about their reputation as well. In the light of Jesus’ teaching and actions what an immense failure. Stunads…stupid people.
My friend saw his failure…owned it…but he knew that grace meant it was not too late to give that sin to Jesus, receive forgiveness, and share the story of Jesus as best as he could…no theology degree…despite concerns for what others might say…but only shared because at some level he knew he was a sinner too. And, that grace helped him. Who better to speak of Christ’s love and salvation than one who knows his grace intimately…even when they might not understand it perfectly in its mechanics. (We will someday when we see Jesus face to face, but we don’t right now.)
God’s love, justice, and righteousness is so very different from the world’s. A small thing, a simple person can bring great joy to God. A child can speak with deep and divine wisdom. Meanwhile, the world looks for bells and whistles, and entertainment, huge miracles, and happy, shiny, seemingly perfect people to lead them. In arrogance, they can look at the small, simple, messy, and childlike as fools without worth. That aren’t worthy of going after…or looking for…or talking to. There’s a tension here. Something’s wrong, and it is called sin.
A favorite author of mine, Philip Yancey, once wrote, “Life is not fair, but God’s grace is not fair either.” We are asked by Jesus to not get in the way of those who wish to come near to him and listen. Better yet, we are to look for those outside the Church – those struggling, filled with doubt and questions, alone, forgotten, or perhaps strange to us in other ways…yet invite them to the banquet to experience Christ’s love and forgiveness without delay. After all, it is not really our love and forgiveness. It was gifted to us underserved and for free when Jesus died and rose again for our sake and the sake of all people. Amen.
If you would like to hear my sermon or watch our service, the video can be found below. The Gospel text and sermon begins at about the 17 minute mark.The preaching text is Luke 15:1-32.
Image: The Paris European Meeting (1994), (c) Taizé.
Thirty years ago (as of December 26, 2024 through January 1, 2025), I served at and attended my first European Meeting in Paris as “a permanent” (long-term volunteer) with the Brothers of Taizé. “100,000 Youths Invade Paris for Prayer” was the New York Times headline. “Spurred by an ideal that helped undermine communism in Eastern Europe, more than 100,000 young people have poured into Paris for a five-day prayer marathon.”
A number of volunteers had been working all year long helping to prepare the site (Porte de Versailles) and coordinating with local congregations and families to help receive the many young adult pilgrims. At these meetings, visitors live with local families or congregations to help deepen the relationships built and foster greater reconciliation and unity among the people of varied nations and denominations represented. The opening of the Iron Curtain after communism facilitated many coming from the East for the first time.
Just a couple of weeks before the meeting, a few thousand people still needed housing. I was invited to be with Brother Roger and the younger brothers for a song practice in their home when he spoke of the news. He shrugged his shoulders at this challenge and said in French, “God will provide.” It was among many of the lessons learned while I lived with them; challenging me to radically trust God. And of course, God did provide. As some friends from that time reminded when previously reminiscing, the provision was through the willing hearts and sweat of many – people risking the opening of their homes, and many volunteers and locals churches working long and hard to identify and prepare a welcome of young adults from across Europe primarily, but also the world. Hospitality remains a too often overlooked but important, ancient mark of the Church, but it can prove more difficult when at such a large scale.
At the event, I was assigned to work under Br. Ulrich (originally from Germany) distributing food. I helped oversee three of the large feeding stations which served lunch and dinner to these multitudes – more than 25k people at each area for each meal. (I was told that approximately 110,000 in total attended the event.) It was up early before dawn and in bed after midnight each day. My teams and I were outside in the elements for most of the day. I felt a bit like I was back in the Army, especially as among the food items many NATO surplus meals were served. Each food item had its place in multiple serving lines – bread, fruit, cheese, main course. As stockpiles grew smaller, they were replaced quickly. I became expert at driving a forklift. It wasn’t the Feeding of the 5,000, but it was miraculous in its own way. People cooperated well despite the use of varied languages. Volunteers and those served were for the most part patient and joyful.
The positive spirit of the event spread throughout our work, but it proved fatiguing nonetheless. With multiple languages and abilities, it could indeed be challenging. So, I along with other volunteers there from Taize’ tried to keep the pilgrims assigned to help us in brighter spirits. I taught many the poem Fuzzy Wuzzy was a Bear. Or as it rained, I shared the song, “It’s raining, it’s pouring, the old man is snoring,” along with other silly things – new to them, often as I said, people who knew little or no English. As young adults, many were keen to have fun but also learn or improve their English. Humor helped pass the time, and just as I survived many an Army field exercise with laughter, humor played well at the European Meeting too. I learned about 26 ways to say the word “cheese” as we served meals that week. Taizé is famous for its musical chants, and this ode to cheese almost became a chant on its own repeating the list in a sing-song voice: “cheese, fromage, formagio, queijo, queso, ost, ser, syr…”
True, I did get to see Paris a bit during the wonderful season of Christmas to include walking up the Eiffel Tower or visiting Notre Dame and the Champs de Lycee, but this trip was primarily about service. Yet, there was much joy and many new friendships made too. I became friends with a young woman from Germany who hated her “old fashioned” name, Cordelia. She liked American names, she said. So, I dubbed her Joe. I recall my friend, Petr, who spoke long and lovingly on a metro ride about the superior virtues of Czech chocolate, “the best chocolate in the world,” after tasting some French chocolate. Walking down the street one night with new friends from Lithuania and Poland, the Lithuanian man had to translate my English to the Polish woman in English because she could not understand my accent. She said it sounded like “waw waw waw.” I sounded a bit like Charlie Brown’s teacher if I comprehended correctly, but I understood them both! And what a splendid Feierabend, a phrase a German volunteer taught me for “quitting time,” as we watched New Year’s Eve fireworks explode over the Eiffel Tower from our warehouse rooftop as we closed up services. There are so many memories of wonderful people and conversations.
Unfortunately, the realities of the world were seen too. I noted a greatly increased police presence as the program neared completion. I learned later that a terrorist threat had come in, but – praise the Lord – nothing occurred and everyone had a safe time. If you know the more recent history of France, you know there have been significant, successful attacks since then. I’ve been told that since my time there, there’s a constant police presence on the hill of Taizé now because of increased threats. That saddens me even as I understand the need.
My week in Paris fell only a few weeks after my arrival in France, and it helped shape all that came after. It was a transformative experience for many including me. The managers of Porte de Versailles remarked with great amazement at how little trouble there had been, how friendly people were, and that the facilities and property were left cleaner than before we came. (Pilgrims had helped throughout including the cleanup.) Before the age of email, people left for home with new friends’ addresses and hope for the future. I learned more of what the Church could be, even amidst disagreements, and how peace could be made manifest most simply and beautifully between individuals.
Like most, I definitely left with deeper faith than I had come with, and I still ponder the miracles that are the European Meetings hosted by Taizé. This Paris encounter was the 17th annual meeting for young people organized by the community and was also at that time the biggest. As reported in the earlier cited article, “Organizers turned four austere halls at a Paris exhibition center into copies of the main church at Taizé, with saffron- colored drapes and icons glittering in the light of hundreds of candles.” Yet what makes the meeting is the people and the Holy Spirit, not the spaces.
Each year, the formal meeting is held in a different European city from December 28 through January 1. It’s not usually as big, but I suspect each one is profound in its own way. I’ve only been to one other meeting (Barcelona, 2000), but amidst the divisions of today’s world, I recognize the meetings’ sacredness. It’s import and the import of any efforts like it should not be underestimated. These meetings have the power to change your view of the world and your place in it.
As reported by the BBC, Brother Roger, the community’s founder, shared in Lisbon (2004) with the young people present, “If we are at present undertaking a pilgrimage of trust on earth with young people from every continent, it is because we are aware of how urgent peace is. We can contribute to peace to the extent that we try to respond to the following question by the life we live: Can I become a bearer of trust where I live? Am I ready to understand others better and better?”
As some governments expect war in the Pacific or a more expansive war in Europe within five years, such efforts nurturing trust in God and others, reconciliation, and peace remain beyond urgent. Perhaps beyond the importance of any treaty, I learned that peace must start with each one of us, today. We must seek to be reconciled with God and one another. For, Christ becomes more visibly present when we do. His joy and hope are experienced as real.
Yes, the importance of such a pilgrimage never ends. It continues through one’s life.
On March 7, 1992, I cried out to God through the simplest of heartfelt prayers. “God help me! I cannot take this anymore! Just show me the way out of this!” This lament wrapped in tears was uttered during a time of extreme desperation and loss while I walked my dog, Falstaff, late on a quiet, lonely night. It would be answered almost immediately in the most profound, miraculous way. I discovered an unexpected, long ignored door open wider than it ever had before.
As I shouted to heaven, I came to think of past joys that I had experienced through youth groups, college ministry, and faith-filled friendships. These relationships had planted seeds of faith, hope and love, when sometimes as a youth from a troubled home, I could feel unloved and unforgiveable. That’s pretty common thinking when you grow up in an alcoholic family, but for me, it was a realization still hidden amidst family secrets and a lack of understanding. It was all I knew, and I could not see more.
As a young adult facing new wounds as a police officer and after unhealthy relationships and choices, I had become cut off from the Church, and I had lost touch with many who loved me. Yet, as these former faces and spaces came to mind, I felt a strong urge to call someone from that past time. It was a risk. Would the reject me? Laugh at me? Think I was stupid? Yet, it seemed also something I could not resist any longer.
The first person I spoke to diagnosed my problems quickly and gently. I had meant to call a dear, old friend, but his wife answered. As I told her my story, she spoke of things hidden in my heart that I had not yet shared with anyone. Yet, she knew! Unbeknownst to me, she had experience working with people from alcoholic and codependent families, and through that conversation, she lovingly pointed me back to Jesus, his promises for me, and the Church. I got off the phone with a sense of hope I don’t think I ever experienced before.
No, it was not that I didn’t know God before that moment. I can see how my earlier baptism and faith (if immature faith) made a difference. I recognize in hindsight how God often saved me from myself and the snares of this world while planting seeds all along the way. I remain thankful for the many people who tried to love me on my way. Yet, for me, I chalk this up to a similar experience to that described by Jonathan Daniels in his own life. My faith was synthesized. I encountered and understood everything in a new way.
It was most certainly a conversion of sorts, or a radical deepening of relationship, as my heart tore open and God’s Spirit filled my emptiness. The Spirit’s light scattered my darkness, and a deep joy began. I had much still to learn, but I was on my way again – really Christ’s way. Despite the suffering and grief that I would still have to work through, and their were things that I would need to let go of, although it was only a beginning, I knew everything had changed. I had changed. I sensed that I was free.
As I dug into scripture, Gospel truths invited me to trust Christ in a new way and see promises fulfilled springing forth like the lilies of the field all around me. I began to understand that all things – my losses and sin included – would be used for my good (Romans 8). Although I had guilt, I no longer needed to be ashamed. I was forgiven, and I could do better in the future by God’s help. As Christ’s peace grew within me, people even began to see my life and daily attitude change. I became committed to never turning back. More importantly, I came to understand that Jesus would never let me go.
This experience – starting particularly that night in March – has taught me to trust God as I never had before, a trust that I am still learning about today. As humans, we can never know enough or trust enough. Doubts and struggles can remain…do remain to tempt us. Taking advantage of the disciplines of Lent (happening at the time), I was helped into this new start and ongoing sanctification of my life. The gifts of being Church with others has helped me stay on the path since then. So as I think of that time throughout the year, but especially on this date and during Lent, I give great thanks.
Perhaps someday, I will share more details about the experience. I have with some, but for now, I most often use the Psalmist’s words from Psalm 30, my annual “scripture of the day.” I had been ill, lost and blinded in the darkness of my own sin and the powers of this world – dead in a sense. I just had not recognized it. Once I more clearly saw the light, even as I might falter or stumble at times, I have not wanted to go back. I won’t go back. I trust the Lord will help me on my way, and the gift of his joy still growing in me will never die.
Psalm 30 follows (NRSVue translation):
1 I will extol you, O Lord, for you have drawn me up and did not let my foes rejoice over me. 2 O Lord my God, I cried to you for help, and you have healed me. 3 O Lord, you brought up my soul from Sheol, restored me to life from among those gone down to the Pit. 4 Sing praises to the Lord, O you his faithful ones, and give thanks to his holy name. 5 For his anger is but for a moment; his favor is for a lifetime. Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning. 6 As for me, I said in my prosperity, “I shall never be moved.” 7 By your favor, O Lord, you had established me as a strong mountain; you hid your face; I was dismayed. 8 To you, O Lord, I cried, and to the Lord I made supplication: 9 “What profit is there in my death, if I go down to the Pit? Will the dust praise you? Will it tell of your faithfulness? 10 Hear, O Lord, and be gracious to me! O Lord, be my helper!” 11 You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, 12 so that my soul may praise you and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to you forever.
Amen.
Taizé chant, English translation: Lord Jesus Christ, your light shines within us. Let not my doubts nor my darkness speak to me. Lord Jesus Christ, your light shines within us. Let my heart always welcome your love. (Inspired by the writings of St. Augustine of Hippo.)
As his official biography reveals, “Hendro Munsterman is a Religion journalist and Vatican correspondent in Italy, The Netherlands, and France. After having studied and taught theology and religious studies at universities in The Netherlands, Switzerland and France, he became a full-time religious journalist and analyst for the national Dutch daily, Nederlands Dagblad.” Yes, he’s a smart cookie, as we might say in the United States, with a heart for God and others. I am also blessed that he is a friend. We served together in France as volunteers with the Ecumenical Community of Taizé in our young adult years.
I’ve enjoyed listening to or reading his reports and ponderings over the years. Yesterday, I came across his Facebook post about a recent television panel he was invited to join. As a “Vatican Watcher,” Hendro was asked to comment on the current Pope’s legacy as his health has recently declined. (For those that have not heard, Pope Francis suffered a polymicrobial infection with subsequent pneumonia in both lungs which forced him to remain in the hospital.) The short clip from the panel discussion got me thinking.
In the clip, Hendro provided some helpful analysis of the current Pope Francis’ legacy. Hendro mentioned how Pope Francis sought to turn the Vatican’s face outward. He is one who wants the Church to go to the people where they are, not wait for others to come to the Church. Pope Francis is a “pope of proximity” where people want to touch him in his approachability, yet he exemplifies the desire for the Church to go into the world and to touch human realities and consider those on the peripheries. This is at its heart all a great witness for a Savior who asked us go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit (Matthew28:19) – even if the Devil can be in the details of political policies and realities.
In listening to him speak, I thought of the many conservative Roman Catholics whom I know personally that hate (yes, hate) this Pope. I have seen them post about it, and in some cases, I somehow ended up on an email chain with argumentative, unfriendly articles attached. Sometimes, the complaints surrounded his openness to relationships with Protestants or the fearful perception that Pope Francis was reinterpreting dogma or traditional practices. His restrictions on the Latin Mass is also unpopular in that camp, as is his Franciscan, Argentinian approach to liberation theology, which they claim has created confusion. They often claim he is too political, sometimes as if the Church should never interact with business or the world. Speaking of business, Pope Francis has sought to reform the Vatican bank, the Institute for Works of Religion (IOR), to make it more transparent and accountable. This was not always popular with movers and shakers in the Vatican. The list can go on much further, but whatever he has done or failed to do, the posts, articles and emails are often very ungenerous. In fact, some can demonize him as if he is an antipope or antichrist of some sort seeking to kill the Roman Catholic Church.
This is all in the face of a broad popularity – 75% of United States Catholics see Pope Francis in a positive light. (It is much harder to gage any sure Protestant view of the Pope due to historic differences and in some traditions animosity, yet a Barna study found that 35% of respondents thought Pope Francis actually improved their view of the Roman Catholic Church.)
Yet as with all of us who believe in Jesus, imperfect as we are, God can still always use our humble, sin tainted witness for good (Romans 8:28). Martin Luther’s caution regarding the commandment not to give false testimony – number eight as Lutherans count them – comes first to my mind: “We should fear and love God so that we do not tell lies about our neighbor, betray him, slander him, or hurt his reputation, but defend him, speak well of him, and explain everything in the kindest way” (from his Small Catechism). Then in the case of Pope Francis, I must say that his hoping to turn the Vatican’s face outward, having the Church go to the people outside the walls, is admirable. All Christians should agree that this is needed in a world with so much pain, suffering, and often times ignorance.
Sure, Martin Luther was no fan of Popes. (He called his contemporary Pope the Antichrist in 1520.) Yet, he, too, would likely agree that this is the way the Church should seek to live out the Gospel. He once argued, “Anyone who is to find Christ must first find the Church.” He goes on to say the Church is not a building but us in the flesh! Luther wrote extensively on vocation, God’s call in our ordinary, day to day lives. Our vocation is ultimately for the glory of God and the service of others. To Luther, even a father changing a dirty diaper becomes holy when done in love. Yet, this is never about earning merit for heaven. “God does not need our good works, but our neighbor does,” quipped Luther. The Church, you and me and all who believe, need to be active in the world to meet people, love them, and share our love of God with them through word and example.
Then, Martin Luther taught a great deal about what we call the Theology of the Cross. Yes, this understanding holds that we can never save ourselves. Only Jesus through his cross and resurrection can do that. Yet, it also reminds us that God often shows up not in and through power but in places of weakness and suffering. We remember that we were saved for a purpose. As Jesus told his disciples, “If any wish to come after me, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it” (Matthew 16:24-25). Our lives are not just about us; our security and happiness. We are sent to this time and this place to love as Jesus loved. This often infers sacrifice and suffering alongside or for the benefit of “the least of these” (Matthew 25:45).
Finally, Martin Luther thought of sin as ultimately our being “curved inward on ourselves” (incurvatus in se). Looking out for ourselves first can keep us from caring for the neighbors and world around us. It can lead to greed. It might encourage indifference to the suffering of those around us. We might abuse employees or others close to us. We might hear ourselves saying, “That’s not my problem” when Jesus says, “Love one another as I have loved you” (John 13:34). When our eyes are on ourselves, we can’t accurately see the world as it is, nor our place in it. We tend to take our eyes off of Jesus and lose our way, hurting ourselves, others, and our world – intentionally or not. So despite some profound theological, polity, and worship differences, I think Pope Francis is taking his stand not too distant from us Lutherans. We are indeed asked to be Light bearers to the people of this world.
When Lutherans are baptized, they are often presented a small candle lit from the Paschal candle (a much larger candle in the sanctuary representing Christ’s own light). The lay leader giving the candle to the newly baptized quotes Jesus telling them, “Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” (Matthew 5:16). We have to fight by God’s help our human tendency to be curved inward on ourselves. Look to Christ in his examples, teachings and promises. He’s the Light of the World (John 8:12). We can ask for his Spirit to guide us and correct our course when we are wrong (John 14:16 and John 16:7).
As old Marty would repeatedly say in his catechism, “This is most certainly true.” We were created and called to cooperate with the grace offered us to help fulfill God’s will for the world. Yet if we are in the habit of not doing so, our lives will likely become similar to an old, ill-used wick bent inward and broken. Our light, really Christ’s light, can appear as if snuffed out. At the very least, we won’t shine with the abundant life Jesus promised and intended for us (John 10:10 and Romans 5:17). What a loss for us and our world!
If you wish to see the video of the full panel conversation at France24 in English, click here– “Which direction for the Church? Pope’s hospitalisation puts prelates on stand-by.”
This detailed post evolved from a simple Facebook exchange on February 26, 2025. I want to thank Hendro Munsterman again for sharing about his panel discussion.
The below sermon was offered at Christ Lutheran Church in Fredericksburg on February 23, 2025. It proved a difficult sermon for me to preach on several levels, but it was received extraordinarily well by people I know as left, right, and in between. I don’t post all my sermons, but based on that response and the many people that I have already spoken with because of my sermon at our two services, I suspect it might resonate with many others as well. So, here I post. I hope it somehow blesses you. If you prefer to listen to the sermon, a recording of our worship service follows the below text.
The woman that we meet today in Luke’s account proves a bit of a mystery, and everything about this meeting seems a bit unorthodox for that day. Here, we have an unescorted, unnamed woman of low rank and reputation barging into a high-ranking citizen’s home, a rabbi’s home, to approach a great religious teacher, Jesus. Then, she unceremoniously baths his feet in perfumed oils and her tears…drying them with her hair…kissing the feet that Peter would later say he was unfit to wash. How dare she presume such a scandalous interaction?
Well, she does so because she is thankful beyond words. Jesus commends her and identifies her actions as a sign of her gratitude for being forgiven of many sins…many sins…potentially very grave and serious sins…yet sins which are never explicitly named in Luke…any more than the woman herself.[i]
As I have shared before, when I was a teen and young adult, I often felt unlovable and unworthy. I imagined my sins were too great even for the power of the cross. So, as I came back into the Church, finally trusting in the forgiveness of all my sins, it proved easy for me to imagine myself in the place of that woman. Thinking of it, I can still experience a joy that can bring me to tears at times.
This realization of forgiveness changed the direction of my life, but I had much still to learn. You see, I could still play the part of the Pharisee. Sure, I finally trusted Jesus’ promises, and it had changed my life in remarkable ways…ways that others even began to notice. Yet, notwithstanding Paul’s encouragement to forgive one another, as God in Christ forgave us (Ephesians 4:32), it proved terribly hard to put forgiveness into practice.
I had been through a lot of traumatic experiences in my family of origin. I have experienced much trauma later through my police service. Such wounds of the world can last. The sin and unfairness we face can warp the way we look at ourselves and others. Despite my best intentions, I could judge people harshly. I could objectify them. I still could return hatred for the hate that I encountered on patrol, because I was prone to only see the sin and not the struggling, wounded person underneath…a person who through grace could be forgiven by Jesus too.
This past week on social media, I expressed to a friend that I was really concerned with the immediate cessation of all aid overseas. I suggested that perhaps some people who urgently needed help might suffer and die. A person unknown to me chimed in, “I chalk that up to [stuff] happens.” (Now, he used a different word than stuff, but we are in church.) Stuff happens? Well, my first response was, yes, stuff does happen to the just and the unjust alike just as Jesus taught (Matthew 5:45). That’s partly why God calls us to care for one another, because stuff happens.
I came across others who called government workers vermin and parasites. And yet although some government workers might fail in their duties, I look around here in this sanctuary, seeing current and past government workers that I know well, and I see people who are nothing of the kind. They are people who work hard and honorably. I don’t see vermin… I don’t see parasites, no matter any failings that might have…No matter any failings, I see Children of God, imperfect but loved siblings in Christ whom I must love…who I do love.
Then, I encountered others who thought anyone who supported the President at any level must be white trash and racist, ignorant or cruel…perhaps even a Nazi. And yet I see people here that I know have voted for president Trump…who are supportive of some of his policies…and I know them differently. They are nothing of the kind. These people are prone to generosity and love, who just want what they think is best for their country, and so they voted that way. No matter any failings, I see Children of God, imperfect but loved siblings in Christ whom I must love…who I do love.
You know…y’all are messed up! …We are all messed up in our own way. And yet I love you…and I hope that comes across…I love you. And I hope you can love the mess that is me. For, we are only human even at our best. We fail often. We can be selfish or shortsighted, and we always need one another’s love and forgiveness. We can also just be plain and blindly wrong at times.
Yet as tribal, sinful humans, we can be awful to one another…truly, abysmally awful. We can close off our hearts…And those we should love, we push away…We judge…We coldly condemn…We see evil, but we fail to see evil at work within our own hearts. And those who hate us, we might tend to hate all the more. This might surprise many in the world, but we can actually say we think someone or something is wrong without hating or objectifying. In fact, the Bible says for us to defeat evil with good (Romans 12:21), not with name calling or insulting memes.
Not doing good with our words and actions can have unintended, deadly consequences. For with such sin, as Luther teaches, we can become murderers killing peace, relationships, and in some cases, killing the spirit of others. This sin is like a disease that can spread from person to person. Perhaps this is partly why an eleven-year-old girl died by suicide in Texas after being taunted over her immigration status by other children. We can become murderers, Luther argues, through the simmering anger, hatred, and contempt hidden in our hearts, and others like our children might just pick up on that and go further than we ever intended.
So, Luther states passionately in his Large Catechism, that “Thou shall not murder” goes way beyond actually stabbing someone. “God wishes,” he writes, “to remove the root and source by which the heart is embittered against our neighbor…[urging us] to commit to [God] the wrong which we suffer. Thus, we shall [put up with] our enemies to rage and be angry, doing what they can, and we learn to calm our [own] wrath, and to have a patient, gentle heart, especially toward those who give us cause to be angry, that is, our enemies.”
Thus, this week, I thought of my own hard and terrible lesson about this sin that works within me. As a police officer in the 1980s and 1990s, I told you before that my heart had grown hard. I was on bicycle patrol one night with my partner and close friend, Willie, when a burglary of an athletic store occurred. The thieves had gone through the roof, stole a lot, and they had successfully gotten away. Hours later in the early morning…hours before any commuters had awoken…Willie and I saw a young male walking with an athletic bag. His clothes were covered in black pitch and tar, and the bag was stuffed to the brim with items. In the context of the recent theft, this seemed like reasonable suspicion for a stop.
Yet soon after we began to speak to him, the suspect got nervous and began to fight us with all his might. He was big. He was strong…very strong…and it took all we had to try to contain and restrain him. And during the fight, the suspect reached for my weapon and tried to wrench my weapon multiple times out of its holster violently. I was fighting with all my might to keep control of it. It came to my mind that if I lost this fight I might die. (I can remember this moment so unbelievably clearly.)
He broke away almost as quickly as he had begun to attack us, and a pursuit by foot and bicycle began. We had already called a Signal 13 which in Alexandra meant an officer was in dire trouble, and units were screaming their way toward us from all over the city. As we sought to cut off and corner the man, Willie and I were separated during the chase, and in the midst of the pursuit my radio went dead just as a large bang could be heard echoing through the darkness. (I remember that clearly too.) A friend told me later that with no one able to reach me, he feared that I had been shot and killed.
So, it was chaos. There was adrenaline pumping, and there was fear. And there was righteous anger, too. After all, he was a thief. He had fought the police. He had even fought for my gun likely to use it against us. This man was caught hiding in a dumpster. (That was the loud bang that people heard.) Yet to arrest him, a police K9 had to be deployed. And as the man fought more and more, the dog bit him more and more…He was damaged pretty badly…until he submitted.
So when I came up to the group, there he was, my enemy, on the pavement in cuffs, profusely bleeding and waiting for an ambulance. He was in pain…that’s for sure…but what I remember very clearly was looking at his eyes and seeing a lot of anger and hatred. (A look that I will not forget…a lot of hatred.) And as I surveyed him in all his suffering, I thought in the depths of my heart, “Good. I am glad he is hurt. He deserves to suffer. He deserves to die. He is trash.” I am ashamed to say it. It is ugly, but it is true. I would have been happy in that time of my anger if he had died.
Yet it was at that very moment, like a voice in my head, I heard the words, “How can you condemn him, after all that I have forgiven you? He could be with you in heaven someday.” Whether that voice was the Spirit of God, or my mind’s synapses had finally made a new but powerful connection between scripture and my life[ii]…I knew I was a murderer…a sinner…a person who must repent. And although I know that the use of force was necessary, and the arrest was ultimately for the community and even the man’s safety (stopping him from harming himself and others more), my heart immediately softened. I saw myself in him, and I began to have compassion for him…to love him…wanting him to have the love and forgiveness that I had myself received. Now, this did not mean that I regretted any consequences for him that he faced. (Consequences can be necessary or unavoidable.) Yet, I recognized that more was going on in that situation…something eternal.
Years later, I have no idea what became of this man, but I still pray for him when he comes to mind. And he often does whenever I struggle to forgive someone, or whenever I start to objectify someone, or whenever I call someone a jerk. I catch myself thinking of that moment and of him. This was a life-changing event for me. It is one still difficult to share, especially in the context of what happened in Virginia Beach this past week.[iii] But it is also difficult to share because I am ashamed of my sin. And yet at this time, where people are failing in love so often and to such a great extent, painting groups of people with a broad brushstrokes with little or no discernment of their unique differences or situations, I see so many strong parallels.
You likely have seen it or experienced it yourselves. We tend cut off from one another in judgement and hate…where an adult child might not wish to speak to a parent due to disagreements over hot button political issues of our day. And after arguments, longtime friendships have died. I thought it important to confess my sin once again…this time to you. To acknowledge that I struggle at times to resist becoming the Pharisee of this tale, the one saying, “Doesn’t Jesus know who these people are, these sinners?”
Why, yes…yes, he does. They are the people he has come to love and save. Jesus taught us in his Beatitudes, as children of the Kingdom of God, saved-sinners, that we must love our neighbor as ourselves, even our enemies. In fact, Jesus had just shared the Beatitudes in Luke’s account immediately before this dinner. As with the women in Luke, it might seem sometimes a mystery how others have found themselves struggling in sin or on another political side opposed to us. Yet the mystery of Jesus’ suffering, death, and resurrection for our sake, for all of us, points us only toward love for those whom we might otherwise judge without mercy or objectify.
My brothers and sisters, we live in a time of trouble. There are wars and rumors of wars – but not just overseas. These wars are happening in our communities, congregations, and within our families. People are turning against the ones they should love, forgive, and be gentle toward, and in their hearts, they start to think of others as trash…disposable. Our hearts have divided allegiances between Jesus’ way and the world’s way.
Yet, we who have been forgiven so much need not give in to the malevolent spirit of these times. By God’s help, whatever others say or do, we can be moved by the Holy Spirit toward patience, compassion, and forgiveness for those who might not deserve it in the eyes of the world. We can seek to protect and speak up for those who are maligned, objectified, or threatened even when those people are wrong. For we have been forgiven all our sin, because of what Christ suffered on the cross and nothing else…proving that no one is trash to Jesus, including you or me. Amen.
[i] Jane Schaberg, “Luke,” The Women’s Bible Commentary, ed. Carol A. Newsome and Sharon H. Ringe (SPCK, 1992), p. 285-286.
[ii] I know what I believe, that it was a theophany of sorts, but I will leave it up to you to decide for yourselves.
[iii] Two Virginia Beach Police officers died after being shot during a traffic stop the Friday night (February 21, 2025) before this sermon was delivered. The sermon was already written, but many police friends and I had been reflecting how such a loss impacted us. Losses from our own departments came back to haunt us. I lost four colleagues during my six years as an officer – two from being shot, one from suicide, and one from a unknown, preexisting heart condition after a foot pursuit. The death of any officer resonates through the police community plus their families in a way hard to describe. The grief sticks with us for the rest of our lives.
I am not sure of the original source of the above artwork. I found it at the Holy Smack blog. If you know the artist, please let me know. I’d like to give proper attribution.
If you would like to hear my sermon or watch our service, the video can be found below. The Gospel text and sermon begins at about the 17 minute mark.
As an ethicist from Grove City College, a conservative, evangelical institution, opined recently, a consequentialist “holds that good ends, however they might be defined, can justify the use of unethical means.” As he reflects on recent administration’s behaviors, he suggests that sort of thinking is a utilitarian approach, but not truly Christian. I agree, and I’ve been suggesting the same over the last few weeks. “I don’t agree with what’s happening (or all that’s being done or said), but…” isn’t a great approach to Christian ethics.
I’ve spoken or written to a number of Christians including pastors in favor of the administration’s ultimate goals about current events. I, too, want safety, prosperity, and justice. I am sensitive to how people long for a government that reflects their values, American traditional values included. I love and have served my country, making an oath to defend the Constitution. I have been injured doing so at times (as a police officer), and I have had several near death experiences. I say this as evidence that I love our nation, and I admit that I am supportive of some (not all) of the stated goals. Yet, I also know there is no justice without mercy (Micah 6:8). I remember that Jesus came to call all people to himself, not just Americans (John 12:32). We live in a political world where good people might not agree, but we don’t have to hate one another or demonize. Jesus calls us to be better than that.
I have come to understand from scripture that there is no “me first” sentiment overruling love of neighbor or enemy, but we are told to follow Jesus which means we must instead cary a cross (Matthew 16:24). Sacrifice is often necessary. I’ve sought to apply Christ’s Beatitudes to whatever I should do or not do, especially in difficult situations. I have of course failed at times, sometimes abysmally so, but I try to repent and make amends for my sin, turning to God so that I might live (Isaiah 45:22) – to live abundantlynow as well as eternally as Jesus promises.
As Christians, we need to have our yes mean yes, and no mean no (Matthew 5:37). We should not explain away sin, rude behaviors or hurting people – intentionally or not – because we think the goals are “good.” We are to defeat evil with good (Romans 12:21) whether a liberal, a conservative, or an “anywhere in between” Christian. Humbly, we should listen and consider where we might be wrong, because no human is always right. We should repent and show others grace if they are willing to change. For as Jesus says in Mark 8:36, “For what does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul?”
This doesn’t mean we must go to war, culture war or otherwise, but we are called to decency – to be human in the best sense of the word, loved and changed by God. St. Peter himself argued, “but as he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct” (1 Peter 1:25). We are to love, not objectify, demean or abuse. Meekness was a word used to describe both Moses and Jesus, so I expect it does not mean what much of the world thinks. It takes courage, and it’s hard.
So perhaps like Sophie Scholl, Christian martyr of WW2, we must grow to understand that, “Just because so many things are in conflict does not mean that we ourselves should be divided” (as quoted in Seeking Peace: Notes and Conversations Along the Way, 1998, by Johann Christoph Arnold, p. 155). Or as with Dietrich Bonhoeffer, we can try to just be decent in the face of evil, as Victoria Barnett, a Bonhoeffer scholar, points out so well. Or even as Mother Teresa, Br. Roger of Taizé, and so many others who sought to live simply and at peace demonstrated through the simplicity of their lives, we can seek to do all things with great love. That’s often how the world experiences change; ultimately experiences Jesus.
A hero of mine, Jonathan Daniels, closed his valedictory address at VMI with this sentiment, one which I share, “I wish you the decency and nobility of which you are capable.” By God’s help, we are all capable of such a life no matter how impossible it might seem.
Husband, Pastor, Law Enforcement Chaplain, and member of the Clerical Errors (aka "The Three Priests"), I'm sharing my two cents with anyone who cares...
You can also find me on social media as Loudluthrn (Lou-d-Luthrn or Lou the Lutheran). It is a moniker given me while attending a Presbyterian Seminary, but I'm a loud and proud Lutheran too (just not too loud and proud, mind you).
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