This is me in Taizé shortly after my arrival, perhaps January 1995. A new Lithuanian friend who was a former draftee in the Soviet Army took the photo for me. I finished my own US Army commitment in 1994. Enemies can become friends.
“Ah, Taizé, that little springtime,” remarked Pope John XXIII about the ecumenical monastic community nestled on a hill in Burgundy, France. Being there definitely was a springtime experience for me. I have recently been thinking about my time there a lot. For, I moved to Taize’ in France on December 5, 1994 – 30 years ago!
I first met the brothers escorting Mary Washington College students to their first large meeting ever held in the US at Dayton University. Several thousand young adults from across the US gathered across denominational lines. As part of “the Pilgrimage of Trust,” we stayed with local families where conversations would continue.
I had no idea how my heart would open when I first volunteered to go as a chaperone and participant. My experience changed the way I looked at life and the Church – how I understood myself as well. People sharing their faith, positive interactions with people who were previously “other” to me, and a more intimate prayer life energized me.
I read much about the Ecumenical Community of Taizé and from Br. Roger, the founder, after that. I continued to pray with chants at home and with friends. I went to a few smaller regional meetings. It slowly became a part of me. I’d even catch myself singing their chants (ultimately prayers) as I drove to emergency calls or in quiet moments of my day. Like the prophet, Nehemiah, my prayer life and work life merged. I found myself praying all the time. As I found more peace, I became more patient and discerning when working with others or arresting people. I discovered peace even when amidst the thick of things. Even my sergeant noticed the change. He said during my review, “I don’t know what you are doing, but keep it up.” I think it was more what God was doing in my life, but his observations affirmed for me that I was in a better place and heading in the right direction. Whatever my future, God was with me.
All the while, I began to wonder if I was being called to become a brother. When younger, I had investigated becoming a priest while Roman Catholic. Yet like many young adults, with unaddressed trauma, grief and sin from the past, I had wondered far. I finally became open to radically trusting God after a crisis. Thanks to seeds planted in my past, faith-filled friends, and intentional spiritual, mental, and emotional work, I found my way back home. The Dayton meeting came when the time was right and catapulted me forward toward a new, radical trust in God. Now, I also understood the Church was more than my denomination. I came to believe my past errors need not hold me back. I was and remain forgiven and free. I became determined to address the issue of serving in the Church once and for all wherever God might lead me. For God had been faithful to me, and again, I trusted the Spirit would set me on the right path.
During this time of growth, I had come to know Br. John. Br. John is one of the community’s American brothers, and he is often asked to go abroad. He had introduced me to a Croatian immigrant in Alexandria who hoped to have a meeting in the DC region where I then lived. Certainly, I would help! It proved such a special event. Only about 100 attended, but the impact was similar to my time in Dayton. As I spoke with Br. John during a break, I tentatively told him of my vocational search over the years – on and off. My friend Tony and I would be visiting Taizé in France for the first time, and I wondered – although I can’t sing well or speak French – maybe there was still an answer for me there?
Brother John did not laugh at me as I feared. I was not rejected, but instead taken seriously in my search. Although I had not been before to the community, Br. John said that as I was in a different place than many in my search (I had done a lot of work regarding my repentance, healing, and discernment) perhaps I should spend a week in silence. I still would go to the three daily prayers. I would have moments of conversation. Yet mostly, I would spend time in silence or speaking with my future contact brother, Br. Francois, who would serve as a kind of spiritual director. (He was an early brother, and much later, I learned he was also a Lutheran pastor.)
My contact brother, Brother Francois
Of course, most of my time was indeed spent meditating on scripture, praying, or going for walks. Yet, I was invited to eat with Br. Roger and the brothers once during this first visit as well. A brother who did not know me introduced himself and said, “You are in a week of silence aren’t you?” I said yes, but asked how he knew. He said that people experiencing a week of silence often had a glow about them. (Although I did not understand it at the time, I would later see that glow on other faces.) My growing trust and peace showed.
As my week closed, I told Br. Francois that I thought perhaps I should come for a longer time for more discernment. This would necessitate my resigning from the police department. My eyes and heart had opened wider, so I understood it was time to take a leap of faith. I felt pulled there. He said after a short time of discussion, “We cannot know yet what the answer will be, but we have similar hearts. You must come.” And so, long story very short, I resigned from the police department and came. I began my service as a long term volunteer, “a permanent” in Taize’ parlance, primarily working among the campsites and with meeting preparations.
Upon arrival, I continued to meet with Br. Francois, and there were many, many more important friendships and memories made during my time there including at the Paris European Meeting with over 100,000 young adults!
A group photo of the male Permanents at the time from all over the globe. Br. Mathew, a “young brother” in charge of caring for us, is now the Prior of the community (far right). Great memories!
Yet after about seven months, it became clear that I was not to stay, but I never doubted that I had been called there. I came to that little hill, and I saw Christ more clearly than ever before. I just now knew he was calling me to something else. Back to the valley for me! This led me to other people, and thus more new understandings of God’s love, but that’s for another time to share.
I have not been back to what I still consider my spiritual home, but my wife, Kristine, and I did make it to a European Meeting in Barcelona. (It was the last time I saw Br. Francois. He died a few years ago.) I also was able to welcome Br. John and Br. Emile for a meeting at my church in the Richmond area in 2019. I hope our paths will cross again, but as I have written to my many dear fellow volunteers now across the globe, it’s ok if I don’t meet them again. I still sense the deep, living communion which we share any time I hear Taize’ chants, see a photo, or think of them. The Spirit works this way among the Church, a communion of saints. That communion spoken about in the creeds of the Church is tangible.
Yes, we are together still. It’s hard to explain, but it is true. I trust – thanks be to God – that it will be so forever.
St. Isaac the Syrian knew what he was talking about. For the Orthodox and many other Christians (sadly not all) humility isn’t docileness. It’s an understanding and deep trust that all we have comes from God. We are sinners in need of God’s mercy and direction. Yet because God is love and loves us, we can find peace. We can be nonanxious as others rage. We can rest in Jesus even as we work hard for justice, mercy and truth. We can be patient with those who don’t see the world as we do. We know who we are but also whose we are. This doesn’t mean we don’t struggle with fear at times or never fail or fall, but we find the strength in God’s Spirit to keep trying; to seek to love as God loves us; to keep moving forward knowing we don’t walk alone. Some people will see Christ in us and want the peace we have. Many more might reject us as they do Jesus and his message through word or deed, even as they might call themselves “Christians.” That matters not. Embraced by Christ, we can do no other than cling to Christ and our call nonetheless, even as we fight the interior whisper of demons telling us we aren’t good enough, don’t have the strength, must give up. Yet how can we give up when we have everything in Jesus who has already made us victorious? In that shared victory, we ought not judge or puff ourselves up. We must love the other. We should forgive. We should nurture peace. We do this from a God-given humility, not out of our willfulness. “What is hell as compared with the grace of resurrection?” St. Isaac once asked. Nothing. We can always choose to live in hope by God’s help. And through the power of his Spirit, God will.
The below sermon was offered at Christ Lutheran Church in Fredericksburg on February 2, 2025. It is definitely much longer than my normal sermon, because the topic was immediate, adjusted last minute to a high profile current event on the fly, and about an issue prone to nurture strong disagreement. Although our denomination, the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America leans politically liberal, multiple surveys suggest that the membership leans toward the center. Indeed at this congregation, we have strong supporters for President Trump and those adamantly against him. This sermon was intentionally crafted so that all people could hear and reflect about these things without shutting down. Maybe it would spark conversation? I cannot change Elon Musk’s mind with my sermon, but I might be able to help my congregation see things in a new way.
In my time with Brother Roger and his community in France, the Ecumenical Community of Taizé, we often had people come who lived in severe conflict with one another in their home country or region. How can we speak to one another with open hearts if we call one another names or shut down? So in small groups, people were asked to share their experiences of faith, but not in a way of debate or even to convince. Listen for the Spirit in what others say. I also learned and came to believe that the Spirit is calling all people and within them even before they might realize it. We should treat them with respect, even if we struggle to like them or do not approve of what they do or say.
This was modeled in Brother Roger’s own history. Before the community formed, he risked his life to help Jews escape persecution in France. As a result, he was narrowly escaped arrest by the Gestapo. After the war, he offered care and hospitality to German prisoners returning home. This was not popular with some of his French neighbors who had suffered so much and were rightfully angry. And living in one of the most Communist areas of post-war France, amidst people who sometimes overtly hated Christ and his Church, he and his brothers helped their neighbors no matter their political leanings. They even were able to start food cooperatives which benefitted all. In time, authentic love at work in his life and the lives of other brothers earned trust and effected change. This witness has impacted the way I try to address conflicts of our day and in my life. It shows in this sermon.
Some pastors and others will likely say I did not go far enough to condemn or fight what they perceive as evil. (They might be right. At the very least, it is a mistake to have stripped the funding in the way it was done – too carelessly and with false accusations – likely a sin, certainly a shame despite any intentions.) Yet, like the brothers, I feel a profound call to try to live as an agent of reconciliation. (See 2 Corinthians 5:17-20.) If we wait for people to be perfect before we seek to reconcile, reconciliation will never happen. In reconciling, sometimes people change or see their wrongs more clearly. It proves a give and take process, requiring ongoing forgiveness and patience along with self-awareness.
Further, this sermon was shared with people whom I know well and deeply love. Sometimes a pastor can do more good using the gentle nudging of a staff rather than the full force of a rod. And I take Jesus’ mandate for us to love one another very seriously. I want my congregation to as well. I think this approach might prove the same for you in your relationships even if not a pastor.
The text of my sermon follows, but I will also include the YouTube link at the bottom of this post if you prefer to watch all or part of the service. I have tried to adjust the original manuscript to better reflect what was said balanced with clarity. Is a sermon ever truly done? I am confident I will write or speak more about what appears to be bad policy if not illegal as it impacts a nonprofit I know to be honorable. This is only a start of a conversation.
It has been a stressful 2025 for many of us. There’s a lot going on in the world – wars and pestilence – but there’s been a lot of change, too. Whether you like change or not, whether good or bad, our recent political changes are still change. And as any health practitioner will tell you, “Even good changes can leave you feeling drained, out of control, and depressed.”[i] And as our national administration does change things, we have seen many fast and furious changes making some neighbors of ours worried about the security of their jobs, what might happen to their medical aid, or even the legality of their marriage. And much as it was when I lived along the Arizona border while in the Army, a lot of people are rightly afraid of some of the violence or other negative issues that can come with unbridled, unsecured immigration, and perhaps at the same time, we might be concerned about our friend, or neighbor, or fellow employee, or fellow student who has a questionable immigration status – someone that might have been here for many years, who is a good worker and kind neighbor, but at risk because of past choices they made. (Or maybe, adult relatives made a choice for them.) And I know of friends that have already had their adult child lose their government job suddenly as a result of different government priorities. It happens. My uncle used to be an executive with Lincoln-Mercury, and he had to lay people off at times… regrettable, difficult, but it happens.
Yet coming in this morning (I’m going off text now, so hang in there), I saw a tweet from Elon Musk, and it talked about “the Lutherans.” Oooo, that tweaked my attention. Basically, he was complaining about all the money going to Lutheran parachurch organizations for their social services. Yet, he never explained what this money went for. His main concern was probably immigration, because there are elements that do help with refugees and other immigrants including our allies from Afghanistan. (Some of these live right here in Fredericksburg.) Yet, he lumped all the services together. The thing that I would like you to know…that I know because I used to be on the board of Lutheran Family Services of Virginia (now enCircle)…is that Lutheran Services of America, the overarching organization (which is kind of like the United Way) helps one in fifty Americans with all different kind of things. (This is a correction from the recording. I said, “one in five,” in error. Still, this is a staggering, impressive number.)
And so, when you look at a group like Lutheran Family Services of Virginia (now enCircle), they have some programs that help refugees and immigrants, but they also facilitate adoption and foster care. They help with counseling services which some people in our community have taken advantage of. They help with schools for at-risk youth. They have helped with kids who are on the spectrum. They helped with elder care. They have houses for folks with intellectual disabilities and help them live independently or in community. So, there are a lot of things that go into these nonprofits…these parachurch organizations (started by the Church, but not the Church). And they receive grants from the government, yes, but also from industry and other nonprofit funds, and then, they get funding from good people like you who donate in support of what they do. Yet as funding streams change, so does their ministry or outreach. Even in the nine years that I was a board member, Lutheran Family Services did that.
And so, funding streams are changing because political priorities are changing. And that really is “fair,” right? That’s the way our government works. That’s the way the world works. Yet, I do hope that we are concerned that with doing things quickly…lumping all things together…that maybe, some people will be left behind or hurt unintentionally. And that, I think, is something that we can certainly speak about as Christians. We want to do things “smart.” We want to do things in a way that doesn’t hurt others and make things worse.
So, with all these political changes, right or wrong (as you see them), good or bad (as time will tell), I hope we can recognize that this is a stressful time for many people. During this period of change, mistakes might be made, and there are things people will have to adjust to, but some people might even be afraid. (Whether you understand why or not, they might be afraid.) And that is no secret. You can just look at social media posts and see that. Yet, whenever we strive for justice and peace, to do the right thing, whether left or right in our political leanings, we as Christians are supposed to approach others empathetically…care for them…offering mercy and help as we can (as all the prophets say)…forgiving when they make mistakes…and try to love and help them as they are…even as we see them as totally wrong, or sinful, or whatever the problem may be. Even when I was a police officer, long ago in the 80s and 90s, and I would arrest people…one of the things I learned as I came back into the Church again…started to really believe this Jesus stuff was true…one of the big challenges I had as I arrested people for violations that were serious remained: How do I treat this arrestee as a human? Do justice, but how do I show mercy in the way I relate to them. That’s a kind of love and a kind of Christian witness, too. So, I know it is hard…but with God’s help, we can do it. We can do it and change becomes possible.
These are all huge issues that we are talking about nationally and locally…important issues! You should care! And I am not going to tell you today how to vote or think. I am not going to dissect policies or waste your time during this sermon pointing fingers at those “bad people.” You can fill in the blank for who those bad people are. Yet, I do believe today’s sacred stories perhaps ask us not to point at others, but instead, maybe point at ourselves. Where am I in all of this? What am I doing or failing to do? These stories lend themselves to discernment. Are we responding from our faith, hope, and love as we should, or are maybe some other influences…even sin…are affecting our decisions? This comes up with issues of religiosity (how we behave in church, how we live our faith), politics, or any other areas of our lives. Are we responding in faith, or is something else guiding us? So, we can always do better whoever we are, because none of us are perfect in our ability to love…ever.
In fact, our friend Martin Luther always sought to remind us that we can be sure that we are absolutely, positively not perfect. You and I are a mess. Selfishness, shortsightedness, and other sin can always creep in to blind us, to trick us, so that we start to call bad something good. In fact, he argued that really, we don’t truly have free will. We think that we do, but we don’t, because sin is so powerful that even when we do our best, what we do is always tainted…always. We remain fallen creatures even if are saved; sinner-saints all.
And so much like the days of old, theological and political debates can happen, and they can merge into hot button issues of our day. Thus, we must ask ourselves, how should we act? What are the right standards to maintain? How do we uphold justice while trying to be merciful at the same time? And faithful people, “good people,” end up all over the political spectrum. And why is that? Because they are applying their experiences, their knowledge, the wisdom God has given them, but in the end, it is all coming through and from a human being. So, we come to different conclusions. (Sometimes these are very wrong conclusions.) And so, that begs us to try to treat each other with a great amount of compassion or patience. We are only human. And only God perhaps knows the best and perfect answer for any situation you can come up with. We are like beggars that can only reach out for grace-filled guidance and commit to try to do our best in striving to be like Jesus…yet also always ready to repent…and always ready to forgive.
Certainly, one side of any human argument might be closer to God’s truth than the other, but in humility…recognizing our own human fallibility…perhaps we should not be so quick to think that we are totally, infallibly correct and the other side totally, unbelievably wrong. Again and again, it must be said, we are all human with limited intellects and an imperfect capacity for unselfish love. We need God’s help. We need to listen to God, as well as listen and learn from one another. Spiritual and moral truths exist to be sure, but our ethical and our concrete situations change. How we apply our beliefs and laws need to change sometimes. We must keep our minds open to new possibilities when a God claiming to always be doing something new comes around.
Today’s passage proves an example of situations just like that. Jesus doesn’t cancel out the law, but we see him reapply and interpret it under specific, challenging circumstances. He kind of expands our understanding of the law. So, here we are…in a field with Jesus on the Sabbath. His disciples are hungry, and so they plucked some heads of grain. They took what they needed to satiate their hunger and no more. That was an allowable practice on other days…except on the Sabbath. So, what should Jesus have done? Let them starve? Does God’s care for the hungry end on the Sabbath? Jesus thinks not. Jesus understands that he is Lord of the Sabbath, but also, the Sabbath is a gift to us. It serves us. It blesses us. We don’t serve it.
In fact, there is the precedent with David as he fled from King Saul, and he ate the bread of the Temple meant to be offered to God. Technically by the law, this was explicitly wrong, but in that situation, he is not condemned by scripture. Jesus declares, “The Son of Man is the Lord of the Sabbath,” and it is not the other way around. Now, Jesus isn’t throwing the law away or ignoring it. He’s reapplying it in a way that allows for a greater capacity to love in a certain circumstance…a way that honors God’s original intentions. His teaching is consistent with the love of God and neighbor accentuated in Deuteronomy 11. When it comes to the laws of God, they are always meant to prove a blessing and not a curse.
And similarly, on another Sabbath Day, Jesus is faced with a man who has a withered hand. He could have waited until the Sabbath was over to heal him, but is our God a God of love or indifference…a God of life or death? Jesus has come to proclaim the Good News that the Kingdom of God is at hand, and so healing such illnesses were an important sign of the things to come. Could there be any better place than the sanctuary in the context of praise and worship among God’s beloved people to make God’s love known through healing? The time was right and the place appropriate, so Jesus opted for life and love (the intended fulfillment of the law) over a rigorous observance of the law.
As one commentator points out, Pharisees were like the mainline Protestants of first century Judaism.[ii] They were trying to bring faith into the community and into the home. They created local houses of worship, the synagogue. And they also suggested religious disciplines, practices, that people could do to embody the faith…deepen their faith. They studied the Word of God arduously and tried to apply it to the everyday life rigorously. And so, we have extra-biblical writings – the teachings of the rabbis, not always agreeing – describing how faithful Jews should live out their faith as best as they can. They believed all the actions of our lives, even those of less consequence, should seek to reflect our faith in the one true, living God concretely. I hope all of us agree with that, for faith should inform our lives.
Yet at that time, keeping the Sabbath holy was a critical, central faith conviction of the Pharisees as well as other Jews. Yet what constituted rest and what constituted work…ah, that’s the question. It appears that at least some Pharisees tended to opt for the strictest construction of the Law – no work at all, even to feed people who are hungry or heal someone in need. Over time, very fine points of Jewish ritual law have been defined by Rabbis – both in and outside of scripture – in admittedly a copious and complex way. On one Jewish site that I visited, the consensus suggested that we really can never learn enough about keeping the Sabbath holy.[iii] Yet even today, the more orthodox believers of Judaism avoid writing, erasing and tearing paper on the Sabbath for that is work…a kind of physical exertion. They aren’t allowed to make business transactions or prepare food either. (That can be done ahead of time with proper planning.) As kindling or sparking fires were prohibited in the Levitical law, turning on lights or a stove (allowing for a sparking of electricity) remain forbidden today. And the list goes on and on, but this is not out of some obsessive love for the Law, but it is an explicit, intentional attempt to encourage people to honor and love our one true God with their lives…through those actions, to bring God to the forefront of our minds and hearts. It stops us during our day to think about God in our life.
These two Sabbath controversies are about observing the Sabbath day rightly, but it is also ultimately about how we should honor and love God and neighbor. That dual command of loving God and neighbor that Jesus lifted up over and over again is critical to interpreting the scene put before us today. Loving God and neighbor as ourselves, reflecting the biblical teachings and mandates, proves the highest form of worship and holy living according to Jesus. Our actions should embody this faith. Yet, this wasn’t new with Jesus…just sometimes not properly applied or understood. Many of the earliest Jewish interpretations (through many today) always emphasize that saving a life always overrides Sabbath law.[iv] They agree with Jesus’ interpretation.
Name whatever hot button political issue you like…consider any ethical dilemma you are facing (or our nation might face for that matter)…we are to consult scripture and discern our response the best we can. (Hopefully, we do so in community.) According to Luther, the prophets, and Jesus, loving God and neighbor as ourselves is to remain our ultimate maxim and measure. When justice and mercy are at odds, there is to be a bias toward mercy.
Yet when we are asked to love others, this doesn’t mean we aren’t to love our community, family, or ourselves and automatically ignore any of our risks or needs. No, no, no, the context matters, and that’s what makes Christian ethics so difficult. The context matters. Our options and gifts that we have been given matter. Our willingness to be open to God’s love and sharing that love with others matters. We should wrestle with our problems intentionally, not fall back into some kind of autopilot, for if we have not love, we gain nothing. (So, St. Paul argued.)
As we face the many controversies of our own time, I am not called here as pastor to provide you specific, political answers for your life. I’m human, and I can be just as wrong or more wrong than you. (I’m wrong all the time…ask my wife.) Instead, what I wish to do is encourage us all to engage the issues of our days in a faith-centered, faith-filled, intentional way as Jesus did. In doing so, seek to be gracious and humble. Seek to listen more than we talk…to love more than we judge or condemn…to try to understand and be empathetic toward the opposition rather than for us to worry about being understood…because when we do that, then we might just learn something. All these hot button issues are important. In some cases, they are life or death matters. So, I don’t think we should expect easy, pat answers…We should more likely expect a cross.
Therefore, our Savior is rightly consulted and trusted: through prayer and bible study…through following Christ’s own example of humility, gentleness and peace…and yes, through listening to the concerns and cares of our neighbors…even those opposed to us…even those we might think have lost their way or lost their minds…for God has often used “the least of these” to help redirect others whom God loves. It might even be helpful to take a moment to rest, to step away from all that troubles us, or to find others to share our time with. So, don’t feel obligated to post that meme that might insult another or stir the pot. If you see something offensive to you, it is ok to turn the other cheek and scroll right by it. After all, among all the controversies Jesus faced and busyness of starting his ministry with others, there’s one little verse today that we might have missed (v. 12)…this is about Jesus: “Now during those days he went out to the mountain to pray; and he spent the night in prayer to God.” Facing all these controversies and dangers, he stopped to pray, to rest.
I don’t have all the answers to the troubles of our time any more than you, and that’s ok, because we are not God. Yet, we can turn to God in trust. We can seek to love one another as best as we are able, even our enemy. As God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe ourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience (Colossians 3:12). Fast and pray, repenting of our own sins first, before trying to fix others…because we really cannot fix anybody. That’s the way of true wisdom; leading us to where we need to be…walking with Jesus as his disciples…loving and learning as we go. Amen.
Mosaic in El Moallaqah Coptic Orthodox Church: The Flight to Egypt, Cairo, Egypt by Unknown. c. 9th Century AD.
Whoever said the Middle Ages weren’t fun? I bring you glad tidings and happy greetings on this Feast of the Ass.
Yes, according to a blog post by Fr. John Zuhlsdorf: “The feast which became popular in France, could have stemmed from the so-called ‘feast of fools.’ It may tendrils into biblical donkeys, or the integration of the ass into the nativity narrative. It could have been in part inspired by a sermon of pseudo-Augustine. The day included the tradition of a parading a couple of kids (not goats) on an ass (not a Jesuit) right into the church, next to the pulpit during the sermon. The congregation would respond with loud ‘hee haws.’”[i]
This sounds a bit like an early version of Vacation Bible School or maybe fiction, but nope, this liturgical feast was the real deal. It was meant to commemorate the Holy Family’s flight into Egypt. So, on and near the day appointed, congregations would hear donkey-related stories in the Bible including the escape into Egypt (Matthew 2:13–23). Problematically, scripture never explicitly mentions a donkey in the narrative of Christ’s birth or the flight, but that’s firmly in the cultural memory. Why?
Well, donkeys were a symbol of humility and peace while horses were symbols of earthly power and war. Also, through many prophetic texts speaking to ancient Israel, we learn that God did not desire the Holy People of Israel to trust in horses and chariots, as Egypt did, but in the Lord (i.e. Psalm 20:7). Instead, they commonly utilized donkeys also known as asses. Donkeys are also one of the earliest and most frequently mentioned animals in the Bible through multiple texts. In the book of Job, the donkey is one of the fourteen animals that the Lord uses to illustrate God’s own power and creativity to Job (Job 39). Then, Balaam’s donkey actually speaks (Numbers 22:23). The only other animal ever to speak is the serpent of Genesis. Indeed, many verses urge people to be good to their beasts including their donkeys (i.e. Exodus 20:10, Deuteronomy 5:14, Proverbs 12:10).
Yet perhaps most importantly, the donkey was connected to the Messiah as a sign: “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion; shout, O daughter of Jerusalem: behold, thy King cometh unto thee: he is just, and having salvation; lowly, and riding upon an ass, and upon a colt the foal of an ass” (Zechariah 9:9). Jesus embodies this as he rode into Jerusalem for his final Passover. If Jesus ends his life with a ride on a donkey, it does not take a great deal of creativity to imagine Jesus (through his expectant mother, Mary) rode one as he entered into our world incarnate. (It is likely one was not only available but used.)
So, if anyone ever says you are acting like an ass, or you feel like one, don’t be too quick to take offense or lose heart. Think of the humble donkey and give God thanks. For all their drawbacks, the ass remains a valuable animal, born with a purpose, and dearly loved by God. If God can use an ass, God can surely use you or me. The Bible tells us so.
Yes, this feast might no longer be on the liturgical calendar, but blessed Festum Asinorum, Feast of the Ass Day, to one and all!
Epilogue:
Hear is a song from Italian history with the feast to help brighten your celebration.[ii] As the feast was seemingly associated with the Feast of Fools, it is quite jolly unlike other liturgical music of the day. An Italian troubadour version of ‘Orientis Partibus’ with braying chorus.[iii]
Translation:
From the country of the East, Came this strong and handsome beast: This able ass, beyond compare, Heavy loads and packs to bear.
Chorus: Now, seignor ass, a noble bray, Thy beauteous mouth at large display; Abundant food our hay-lofts yield, And oats abundant load the field. Hee-haw! He-haw! He-haw!
True it is, his pace is slow, Till he feels the quickening blow; Till he feel the urging goad, On his hinder part bestowed.
Chorus: Now, seignor ass, &c.
He was born on Shechem’s hill; In Reuben’s vales he fed his fill; He drank of Jordan’s sacred stream, And gambolled in Bethlehem.
Chorus: Now, seignor ass, &c.
See that broad majestic ear! Born he is the yoke to wear: All his fellows he surpasses! He’s the very lord of asses!
Chorus: Now, seignor ass, &c.
In leaping he excels the fawn, The deer, the colts upon the lawn; Less swift the dromedaries ran, Boasted of in Midian.
Chorus: Now, seignor ass, &c.
Gold from Araby the blest, Seba myrrh, of myrrh the best, To the church this ass did bring; We his sturdy labours sing.
Chorus: Now, seignor ass, &c.
While he draws the loaded wain, Or many a pack, he don’t complain. With his jaws, a noble pair, He doth craunch his homely fare.
Chorus: Now, seignor ass, &c.
The bearded barley and its stem, And thistles, yield his fill of them: He assists to separate, When it ‘s threshed, the chaff from wheat.
Chorus: Now, seignor ass, &c.
With your belly full of grain, Bray, most honoured ass, Amen! Bray out loudly, bray again, Never mind the old Amen; Without ceasing, bray again, Amen! Amen! Amen! Amen! Hee-haw! He-haw! He-haw!’[iv]
Who knew the well-known and respected Serenity Prayer could cause something other than peace – doubts, anxiousness, and many more questions? After sharing it on our Facebook page post-election, I have had many great and fruitful discussions about the theology behind it. On its face it sounds crazy to accept the world as it is. Yet, that is not really all that it says.
As I wrote someone recently, the Serenity Prayer was written as the US was battered by the Great Depression and the Nazis took over in Germany. Things looked grim. It began as an observation by Reinhold Niebuhr in 1932 as Roosevelt was elected: “The victorious man in the day of crisis is the man who has the serenity to accept what he cannot help and the courage to change what he must.”
The prayer challenges us to discern our unique individual call, as well as a call in community. We are to take stock of what we really can influence in the world, act accordingly in faith, and with any things that prove out of our hands, we are asked to trust that they remain in God’s. Many studies have shown that “letting go” can help us physically, emotionally, and mentally function better. Based on the teachings of Jesus, I always say that it benefits us spiritually too. Consider John 14:1 for one example: “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me.”
Lutherans also believe in a Theology of the Cross – the cross is seen as the best source of knowledge concerning who God is and how God saves. It also encourages us to take up our cross and follow Jesus. As the Lutheran theologian, pastor, and martyr, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote, “When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.” None of our recent posts are about “just getting along” or stopping our work for a more just world. We know the world is a mess. Loving others is difficult. In the face of reality, these prayers and teachings challenge us to trust and love God at all times, and love one another, even our enemies.
How we respond to perceived injustices might change when we trust God is always at work for our welfare. This theological lens invites us to find Christ’s peace and hold on to it, even if facing the worst evil. Our suffering and sacrifice can become sacred, not by our own power, but because of God’s promise that all things work for the good of those who love God (Romans 8). God will be with us in our suffering, but God also somehow will use it to bless us and the world. We are asked by Jesus not to lose hope when it seems like the world is ending. He taught that these things must happen (Matthew 24:6) before his Kingdom, a new heaven and earth, fully comes.
We can look toward our theological forbearers. They sometimes died for their faith. Some still do. In the US, there has been worst times of trouble – the Civil War being arguably the worst and most costly. (It took Spotsylvania County one hundred years to return to its pre-war census.) Working within the ebb and flow of history, we are called to pray and act, but always trust. God wills more for us. As Lutheran theologian Ernst Troeltsch writes, “God, therefore is always living, always creating. He is truly manifested not in being but in becoming; not in nature, but in history” [Troeltsh, E. (1991) The Christian Faith, p.120. Minneapolis: Fortress Press]. God is at work in and through us as we live in a Fallen World. God may seem like a hidden God, as Luther often called God, but God is awake and at work. It is not all up to us. God’s will will be done.
These beliefs, this kind of trust, often helps us extend our focus to see more possibilities of what we can do in hard or conflicted times – acting in love rather than just fear or anger. Acting in love does not mean there are never any consequences. For the sake of the weak, the vulnerable, really all our neighbors, sometimes some are called to respond more directly and forcefully than others. Yet as a former soldier and police officer, now a police chaplain, I see that violence is never a good thing – never without cost – even when violence becomes necessary. (Luther in discussing his Two Kingdoms theology or in his essay “Whether Soldiers Too, Can Be Saved?” speaks of these kinds of things.) We each have parts to play in making a more just world, but we each must discern how Christ is calling us with the gifts we have been given.
Still in Christ’s teachings, the call to be open to reconciliation, to even nurture it, is ever present. For me, my understanding of this broadened when I came to know and eventually live with Brother Roger of Taizé in France. Under the Vichy government, he helped Jews escape. He ultimately narrowly escaped the Gestapo’s arrest; going to Switzerland until the war was over. After the war, he came back. He cared for German soldiers (former POWs) as they made their way home. In the region, he was among some of the most anti-church people in France. Some Communists slaughtered a pig on the church steps in the nearby village each Good Friday to show their disdain for Jesus and his Church. Yet, he with other friends helped form a coop for the community anyway, and they cared for the sick and hungry. His authenticity, patience and love changed hearts and minds over time with God’s help. And I believe his witness eventually changed my way of seeing and being as well.
When we as Christians say, “all is well,” or “love your enemy,” we are ultimately affirming that Jesus is Lord. He lives, and that matters. In fact, it changes everything, so it must change how we respond to the world. Jesus promises that his Kingdom will come, but he is here with us now. It has broken into our world, but it is not in its fullness yet. We are already victorious even when we might suffer (1 Corinthians 15:57). This truth can free and empower us to respond to our Fallen world and our neighbors in surprising ways.
For, God is not done with us or the world yet. Yes, the poor will always be with us (Mark 14:7, John 12:8, Matthew 26:11), but we seek to feed and house them as Jesus also taught us. As we face those in opposition to us, we seek to bless those who curse us and pray for those who mistrust us (Luke 6:27-36). In the face of worldly reality, we seek to live in abundant, generous, and merciful faith, hope, and love. All is well, but all is not perfect…yet. As the body of Christ, we have work to do, but we trust most importantly that God is at work, too. We need not be afraid.
Parts of this reflection originally were published in the November 18, 2024 weekly newsletter, the Hub, of Christ Lutheran Church, Fredericksburg, VA as well as sections in a Facebook post that I shared.
So many people – both “blue” and “red” (plus other political colors as well) – have been anxious this election cycle. Unfortunately, anxiety can turn into anger rather quickly. Now, hear me clearly, anger is not a sin according to scripture, but we as humans can too swiftly ride the tide of our emotions into the vortex of sin when we feel insecure, unmoored from what usually grounds us. As animals, fight or flight responses can take over. Biologically, we focus on what we think a threat. This is meant to be a safety skill built into us, but it can become our downfall. We can miss the bigger picture. We might abuse others who don’t deserve such treatment. We can begin to wear blinders so that we miss out on facts or observations that might help us avoid loss of relationships or our sanity. We can hurt ourselves and others in ways we never imagined possible. Anticipatory stress can prove a real trap hurting our overall health.
When I was a child growing up in a family with many challenges, I learned to be vigilant for signs of potential trouble whenever I entered my home. As a soldier in the National Guard, I was trained to watch for ambushes and danger. When a finally became a police officer, I found that I sometimes had a hard time “turning off” after my shift. It was a violent time in the Metro-DC area. I eventually learned how to keep this hypervigilance in check after some help from others. Yet, I discovered my greatest gift to combat such issues proved to be faith. Faith is more than just an intellectual trust in the Lord. It is at its best a deep and growing trust that our gracious God loves us and will never abandon us – even as we face death. This gift of faith certainly helped me lower any anxiety or anger which might pop up. I became calmer and less reactive. Instead, I saw more options and possibilities in a fallen world. I grew in empathy, compassion, and patience. I learned better how to love myself and others in stressful situations, and people began to notice.
Why this dramatic change? I started to see beyond the problems facing me in the world. I think it was because the Holy Spirit longs to help us learn that (as others taught me) the God behind us is bigger than any problems facing us. Indeed as Brother Roger of Taizé used to teach, God is already in our future waiting for us – no matter how dark it might appear – ready to embrace us. We need not be afraid (as scripture so often reminds us). Everything – even our own sin – can be used by God to bless us (Romans 8:28). We can act instead of react. We can choose love. This is because God promises to love us…always.
Yet sometimes we can feel like one of the characters in Animal House, a movie I saw as a teen. For years, if anyone were to say, “Remain calm. All is well,” I thought of the ROTC cadet, played by Kevin Bacon, standing in the midst of a parade crowd running amok. Things did not seem well at all. It is not easy when the world seems in chaos to hold on to this “hope as an anchor for the soul” (Hebrews 6:19). others might even think that we are foolish. Ultimately, we need the Spirit’s help to know and trust that all is well. This assurance can be found through prayer, our study of scripture, as well as beloved community. We need to risk believing as Luther taught, “Jesus does not lie.” Then, the Spirit will do its work. As Paul points out, when we feel tempted to sin or give up, when all seems lost, it is ultimately God who will give us a way out (1 Corinthians 10:13).
At this time of cultural shift and uncertainty, when the United States population seems so at odds, it is important that we not play by the world’s rules. I shared this with my congregation on social media:
For those celebrating the election, remember not to gloat (Prov. 24:17) and to seek to love those you think in opposition to you (Matthew 5:44). For those grieving, remember we are never alone on good days or bad, or when the world seems confusing or disappoints (Matthew 28:20). As believers, all of us have work to do together (Micah 6:8). More importantly, God is at work through us and all that happens in the world (Jeremiah 29:11). We can choose to live in hope because of God’s love for us (1 Peter 1:3). As Church, we are called to be ambassadors for Christ and agents of reconciliation in our conversations and social media posts (2 Corinthians 5:16-21). We are called to love one another as Jesus loved us first (1John 4:19). “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you” (Ephesians 4:32). Especially as Lutherans, we know that “though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging…The Lord Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress” (Psalm 46). Jesus lives and reigns forever (Hebrews 7:24-25), and together, we are called to be his witnesses to the ends of the Earth (Acts 1:7-8). Life together in any community can prove difficult, but with God, all things are possible (Matthew 19:26). All is well.
I might still remember the humor of Kevin Bacon being overrun, but I trust in the observation of Julian of Norwich that all is well. As she reflected long ago:
All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well…For there is a Force of love moving through the universe that holds us fast and will never let us go.
In our fallen world, there might be negative consequences at any time. We will suffer at times or potentially face abuse or persecution. It might prove time to take up our cross or fight the good fight for justice. Real life is never easy. We are not asked to fake our happiness, just not get stuck in or sin in our feelings. For, we have a real God who is with us and loves us.
This sermon on Isaiah 5:1-7; 11:1-5 and Mark 12:1-3 was preached at Christ Lutheran Church (Fredericksburg, VA) on the Twenty-fifth Sunday after Pentecost, November 19, 2023. You can also find a recording of this post at my 2 Penny Blog Podcast.
In my work as a volunteer police chaplain or in pastoral counseling, I can run into people with a vision problem. No, they don’t need an eye doctor. Their way of looking at life can be out of focus. The person might suffer from bent thinking where it is like looking at your submerged legs as you stand in the water above. Your legs are the same as they have always been, but you perceive them as losing definition and perhaps they seem disjointed or cut off from the rest of your body. Unfortunately, as humans, as we experience traumas (big or small), or as we seek to control things that aren’t controllable, or as we try to cope with stress or loss in unhealthy ways, our vision of reality tends to be negatively impacted. We don’t see our life, our options, or who we are accurately. Our focus on what’s bad or hard begins to overshadow the goodness of life…and my friends, believe it or not, there is always goodness to be seen…even as we face death. I have seen this as a hospice chaplain.
To be frank, I find these symptoms of an imperfect humanity in a difficult world to be like those of us with post-traumatic stress symptoms. (Sure, maybe the symptoms might not be as severe for everyone, but they are often similar.) Over time, we can wrongly personalize things saying things like, “the world is against me,” “nobody likes me,” or we might believe that “I am the unluckiest person in the world.” Along with negative self-talk, maybe we imagine slight or expect betrayal when there is none. Or, we might simply take on blame when something bad happens to us or those we love even when there is no blame. Things can go wrong even when we do everything perfectly because life isn’t fair. Even Jesus, perfect and without sin, died on a cross. That was pretty unfair to be sure.
Conversely, we might hear a criticism of someone or some group we are associated with, and we allow ourselves to become deeply wounded by something we have no connection to. Those times are examples of personalizing things, but we can also catastrophize things: “If I fail this test, my life will be ruined.,” “If (insert a name) breaks up with me, I have no future.” We begin to see our world simplistically and dualistically. (And by that, I mean we tend to see events as all good or all bad – nothing falls in between.) Life just is not that way.
If this sounds familiar to you, I am not surprised. As humans, we all can feel this way at times. The darkness of this world can whisper in our ears, and we might listen too long. The problems become more significant and life threatening (to one’s own quality of life or concretely a danger to one’s life or others) when we get stuck in this pattern of thinking. We stop seeing the big picture – that life is long. Our life course can change at any time. It is only a bad day, not a bad life. More than that, perhaps more harmful, we forget that we have a God behind us that is bigger than any problems we face, even death. And that God, our God, has promised to love us and care for us always, because we are God’s people. Remember, Jesus actually calls us his family.
When we look at prophetic texts forecasting doom, it is dangerous to view them in isolation. Martin Luther argued (and those who join me for Bible study on Monday nights hear this over and over again), we need scripture to interpret scripture. What we are reading is not meant to be heard in isolation, for it is just part of a much larger, all-encompassing story which isn’t just in the past. This story, God’s love for us, embraces us in the present…even on the worst of days. “God is with us,” Immanuel. We learn this with Jesus…but God was always with those and for those God so lovingly created and called. Most assuredly, you have likely heard someone at some time use such passages to try to scare people straight…you toe the line or suffer in hell eternally, as you deserve….Yet as true as hell and consequences might prove, those kind of threats never worked for me. I just lost hope. It is only God’s love and grace that ultimately turns most lives around.
As we look at Isaiah’s prophecy today, we need to read it with the proper lens and context. Just as we heard the prophet Hosea call the Northern Kingdom of Israel to account, Isaiah’s task was to seek the repentance of the Southern Kingdom of Judah. Yet, the prophet Isaiah begins with a somewhat strange literary motif of his day. His warning is hidden within the guise of an ancient Hebrew love poem.
Long ago, the vineyard was a symbol of a nurturing, sweet, growing love. And so, we hear of God being like a planter. God expected a great deal from the love he planted in the lives of this chosen people. God’s time had been invested selecting the richest soil, digging, pruning, and watering throughout their history and present. To protect them, there would be a watchtower, and hedges and walls (perhaps these represent his power, angels, laws, and of course grace). The ancient vineyard required hard, intentional work for the grapes to flourish (much as with any healthy relationship). Symbolically, the poem represented God’s work and God’s blessing benefitting God’s people…those God loved.
Yet, surrounded by international and natural threats, the people were afraid. They forgot God’s promises. They did not trust them. And so, the people reached out to false gods to help them feel in control and safe – sometimes idol worship and superstition, but also sinful actions and distractions can become idols too. Yes, there was evil in the world striking out at them through the Assyrian and later Babylonian Empires…but they themselves had also torn down the fences and stomped on the grace of God with the daily choices they made. A people who should have born good fruit began to bear rottenness, selfishness, and other sins. Jesus would echo Isaiah in John 15 with his own parable of the vineyard saying, “My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples. As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love.” As with the vineyard prophesy in Mark, Jesus would recall how the people had a tendency to reject the fruit of love from God – not only prophets, but also himself.
Sadly through Isaiah, we learn that Judah has failed to abide in God’s love…failed to love God and neighbor. That’s their primary sin. And so Isaiah’s song or parable of the vineyard will go on to enumerate their sins and consequences to leave no doubt; much like a prosecutor before the judge who is God: Covetousness and greediness of worldly wealth and land where the poor were ignored shall be punished with famine (v. 8-10); rioting, drunkenness, and lives of excess (v. 11, v. 12, v. 22, v. 23) shall be punished with captivity and all the miseries that attend it (v. 13-17); presumption in sin, and defying the justice of God (v. 18, v. 19); confounding the distinctions between virtue and vice, and so undermining the principles of their faith (v. 20); Self-conceit and lack of reliance upon God (v. 21); perverting justice, for which with the other instances of reigning wickedness among them, for these sins a great and general desolation is threatened, which would lay all waste (v. 24-25). This would come to be through a foreign invasion (v. 26-30), referring to the havoc which would come by Assyria’s army and the later Babylonian Empire.[i]
Despite God’s intention of blessing and life, their choices were leading to death. Isaiah warns that Sheol, the place of the dead, shall open its mouth wide and swallow them all. Their own bad choices and lack of vision would see to that. Is it any wonder that the people felt afraid as their world was falling apart…as if they had been abandoned by God? This is so human! Yet, God still longed for them…hoped for them. “Turn to God and live!” prophets would cry out. Still, they tended to blame the messengers or others…anyone but themselves. And so, the Assyrians would come…and then the Babylonians…and finally about six decades of exile and suffering would come as well. In this prophecy of doom and through the shortsightedness of the people, sure, we can see and understand parallels within our own lives. Our similar actions might result in similar consequences, but let’s cast a wider glance.
As Isaiah shares about the consequences of sin or a fickle faith with his people, he also points the people’s vision toward God. If God didn’t love them, would God have sent prophets to call them back into relationship? And so, he shares his call story in the next chapter. Then, he encourages the King and the people. He proclaims, “the Lord himself will give you a sign. Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son and shall name him Immanuel.” Although Christians see Jesus in this ongoing promise, Isaiah pointed to the birth of a son to inherit the throne as a sign and promise for a future filled with hope in his time. And even as lack of faith will lead to periods of loss and suffering, as all bad choices do at some level, Isaiah urges them not to give up hope. Justice will surely come because God’s love is already at work in their midst. And because God is just, those leaders and powerful who take advantage of or abuse others, and even arrogant Assyria, will all eventually face the consequences of their behaviors and haughtiness, too.
Yet those who remain faithful, who are imperfect but strive for justice and peace, who seek to love God and neighbor, all will be well. All is well, for God always loves them. Even today as we face our problems and pain, Paul, too, assures us that we are already victorious. Why? It is not because of anything we do or don’t do. It is because God has chosen to love us, and Jesus came – not for himself – but for us and our benefit…to do what we cannot…save us.
As we wrestle with harsh realities all around us, God is with us…God promises to be with us! Bad times will pass. Death has lost its sting. Sins can be forgiven, and lives restored. And so today, we jumped a bit forward a bit and also heard from Isaiah as recorded in chapter 11. Professor Michael Chan of Luther Seminary points out, “The concrete expression of this new future is a ruler on whom the spirit will rest (verse 2). Promise comes to Israel in the form of a person—a human king who embodies the best of Israel’s traditions: He is wise and understanding (verse 2), powerful in war (verses 2, 4), able to judge for the benefit of the poor (verses 3-4), and obedient to God (verses 2, 5).”[ii] God will elect leaders to lead them toward a more peaceable kingdom. More than that, beyond Isaiah’s own hope perhaps, Christ will come. Later Christians, struggling as Jewish believers before them had, will see Jesus’ work hidden within these same passages.
Pastor Chan goes on, “At the end of the day, Isaiah 11:1-9 does allow us to celebrate Jesus’ ministry in the past and especially in the present, but the text also urges us to the place of intercession, where we long for creation’s promised destiny, as a place where peace, justice, and grace have the final word.”[iii]
You see, the promised new heaven and new earth with Jesus’ return is still yet to come. Sin and death though defeated are in their death throes around us. Life can still hurt. People can still fail us…We can fail ourselves. Crosses might yet need to be carried. Still, never fear. Although sometimes hidden or hard to see clearly, God is here. You are loved. And nothing, not even death, will have the final say. For through our faith and baptism, don’t you see, we are part of God’s story. Despite how things might look at times, God loves us and has promised to never let us go. Even now, God is doing a new thing. God is leading us home. Amen.
This sermon on Ruth 1:1-17 and Mark 3:33-35 was preached at Christ Lutheran Church (Fredericksburg, VA) on the Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost, October 15, 2023. You can also find a recording of this post at my 2 Penny Blog Podcast.
Mother-in-laws can get a bad rap. True, sometimes their relationships with their son or daughter-in-laws may be difficult, and mother-in-law jokes abound, yet they can be a gift. I’m fortunate that my own mother-in-law has always supported and encouraged me even if my own mother did not at times. Now, she’s not afraid to challenge me, but she always does so with dignity, love, and grace. So, I feel very blessed. That is why I often introduce her as my favorite mother-in-law (she’s my only one), and I jokingly tell people I am her favorite son-in-law. This doesn’t always go over big with my brother-in-laws in Pennsylvania and Ohio, but she reminds me that I am her favorite son-in-law in Virginia. She loves and appreciates each of us as if we are all her favorite one.
Surely, defining and understanding family and tribal relationships is not always easy. Getting along with others never truly is. And so, Jesus often uses familial language in very broad terms. He encourages his disciples to think of one another as brothers and sisters…siblings of God. And on the cross, he turns to a beloved disciple and his mother, and gifts them to one another: “Woman, behold your son!” Then He said to the disciple, “Behold your mother!” (see John 19:25-29). He does not want his widowed mother to be alone. It is a very moving scene. His teachings stretch the common understanding of the time surrounding tribe and family.
In indigenous, tribal populations, adoption was and remains common. There were mechanisms and rituals to adopt people into the tribe and family, and in some cases, a murderer might even be adopted into a family to replace the son or daughter who had died. Tribes throughout the earth often had mechanisms to create extended or what scholars might call “fictive family.” It was good for society and individuals to have connection. This broad idea of family reaches from ancient tribal times into Jesus’ world, and into our own time. This practice crosses cultures, including Jewish culture, although with varied rules. I’d wager many of us here today are god-parents or “aunties” or “uncles” to people of which we have no blood relationship. I have twenty-three people who love me as their uncle and call me that – eight of which have no blood relationship. When it comes down to it, what defines family is not laws, culture, or social practices. It rests on a decision to love another person as family. That’s it. We choose to love.
Sure, family is important sociologically. Tribal and national identities in their best sense may serve to unite and protect us. Yet, in our DNA, perhaps reflecting the realities of a fallen world, some genetic and sociological studies suggest that even infants are designed to inherently trust those who look like them more than those who don’t, and this might extend into adulthood.[i] If these studies prove true, some suggest this could reflect an instinct for tribal relationships built into our survival skills. Outsiders (those who look different) rightly or wrongly can be viewed as a potential threat (outside the “tribe”). Certainly, sociological impacts and experiences can influence this too, fermenting racism and other forms of hatred. Sin can play upon our human nature – magnifying it negatively even when some traits might have been implanted in us to help protect us in a dangerous world.
Upon reflection, we see a tension here. There might be an instinctual, fallen tug on us to limit who we see as neighbors or family, but God wants more for us. We can be tempted to dehumanize those who are against us, but Jesus teaches us another way. All the while, God pulls us toward reconciliation and trust – if not unity. That’s God’s promised goal. And yet, the ancient Israelites often interpreted the Ten Commandments application quite tribally. You shall not steal, or murder, or covet another’s property unless perhaps it was someone in a non-Israelite tribe. This ethical construct proved true among many indigenous populations too, including Native American tribes. It wasn’t unique. It was conventional thought.
A lot of this tribal thinking had to do with interpretation, context, and understanding. Familial and tribal relationships were seen through the lens of a dangerous world, and so although exceptions were made, these boundaries tended to be quite strong. Yet if you look deeper at the Mosaic Law, the call was always there for kindness to the foreigners, poor and outcasts among the Israelites. Despite this, in Jesus’ time, outsiders could still be looked upon and treated as an “other” – there were some people with less rights socially, or they became someone yoiu should distance oneself from in order to maintain religious purity, safety, or help ensure cultural, political or personal survival.
In response, Jesus stretches this human understanding toward the divine’s own. He ate with outsiders. He forgave serious sinners. Heroes in his stories could be from the hated Samaritans or Canaanites. When asked about the identity of our neighbors so that we could love them, Jesus interpreted this in the most open way possible. He taught neighbors were anyone around us, regardless of their ethnic, religious, or socio-economic status. When asked who his followers should treat like siblings, an even closer social status, Jesus answers, “Whoever does God’s will is my brother and sister and mother.” Again…not just someone who believes exactly as I do, but those who do God’s will are our siblings.
In life, relationships are complicated, and few families don’t experience discord over politics, inheritance, or even who loves who more at times. Families remain necessary in a difficult world, but they can have issues. These past years and days sadly remind us that nations can be necessary due to very real dangers. And yet, as a fallen humanity, we don’t always love God or our neighbors as God intended. In return, some family members or neighbors can mean us harm or become toxic to us. Despite our best efforts, ancient tribal animosities may rise within us, and wars might start causing people to argue over who started what…and thus we hurt innocents all along our way.
True, God never called us to be doormats. Sometimes, to turn the other cheek means we turn and walk away. Yet at other times, many Christian theologians (those not explicitly pacisfist) tend to argue that force might be necessary at times – the most limited force possible with the least number of innocents lost…yet force, nonetheless. In any war, even the best of wars, innocents will die. As a former police officer and soldier trained to use force, with friends and acquaintances who have used lethal force, I know that such force can leave a mark on a person’s soul. Moral injury (which is when one feels they have acted outside their conscience or moral compass) is real. I deal with that at times counseling others as a chaplain. And our Orthodox siblings even invite soldiers to confess as a healing medicine no matter how just a conflict. They do so because the best of wars is interwoven with the stain of human sin – always. Our brother’s blood can be heard crying out to us from the ground, like a voice calling for revenge, as it did when Caine killed Able (Gen. 4:10). There is just something inherently wrong with war and killing people even when necessary in a fallen, messed up, dangerous world. It is never God’s hope for us, our families, or the world.
And so, wars may come whether we wish it or not. Violence might visit our household at any time, because people can be overcome by sin and do evil things toward us and the one’s entrusted to our care. We, too, can err. Yet as we seek to discern our own call in response to the realities around us, whether pacifist or warrior or somewhere in between, Jesus’ perhaps hardest challenge to human reason remains. How can we best love even our enemy?
This past week, I have had many ask my opinion on the recent, horrific terrorism and resulting conflict in Israel. I don’t know the full answer. Perhaps, I don’t really have any answers in a situation that is embedded in centuries of ethnic, political, and religious struggles. Yet, I do know that terrorism, racism, antisemitism, and any calls for genocide or war crimes must be clearly and unequivocally condemned…always. Facing this, we are to seek to love everyone – especially the most vulnerable among us – and always pray for our enemies. From the Mosaic Laws, prophetic teachings, and Jesus’ own words, we are seek to show mercy even as we strive for justice…even when fighting for life and death.
So, as the Lutheran World Federation has done, we can urge all sides to value the innocent, respect life, and uphold international law.[ii] For when all is said and done, Jesus was sent to offer salvation for all people, and the Lord intends to bring all peoples to himself. Some might reject Jesus…some might hate us…try to hurt or kill us…but forgiveness, mercy, and love are Christ’s work among us even now…This is God’s will that is trying to work through us. Yet, it remains a tough go…it can seem an impossibility.
And so perhaps it is a gift that the Narrative Lectionary draws our eyes to the very ancient story of Ruth and its possibilities this day. The story is from the time when Judges ruled the Jewish tribes. (Judges, you might recall, were like chieftains of the Jewish tribes before the monarchy. Some were prophetic and spiritual, and some were great warriors just as with the Lakota I worked and lived with.) Those days were a chaotic time. The Tribes were free from slavery. They were finally in the Promised Land, but they were not always good to one another. Also, enemies still abounded because they had not fully defeated the resident tribes as God ordered. Despite the direct commands of God (the Ten Commandments) and all that Moses had taught in his law applying those commandments, people still flirted with foreign gods and did not love their neighbor. And so, the Book of Judges tells us that it was a morally questionable time, “In those days,” it says, “there was no king in Israel.” (One might also argue that God was not even appropriately king of their lives.) And it goes on, “Everyone did what was right in his own eyes” (Judges 21:25).
And yet in the face of this reality, we have this mother-in-law and daughter-in-law lifted up to us for our examination. They are of different tribes (Jewish and Moabite), and despite this, they boldly hold onto one another in love as family. Our Jewish siblings often read this story on the Feast of Shavuot (also known as Pentecost, celebrated fifty days after Passover). It is a time when they remember the gift of the Law (the Ten Commandments) given to Moses. (We Christians tend to remember the gift of the Spirit arriving on Pentecost.)
For her part, Ruth, the non-Jew, receives and accepts God as her God and in effect promises to live by the Torah – receives the Law as her own. The promises of God thus become her gift as well through faith. In another parallel with the feast, the story happens during the harvest, and the feast gives thanks to God for God’s bounty. It is an ancient and surprising story thought to originate in the Judges period and was orally transmitted until written down after the Babylon exile had ended. (I’d encourage you to read the complete story at home this week. It is short, but very engaging and informative.)
Ruth’s name means “compassionate friend,” and as is often the case with ancient tribal names, she is just that. Naomi had married a Moabite, as had her now deceased son, and that’s how Ruth and she came into relationship despite being from different peoples. Naomi wanted to accept her fate among her Jewish people. For her part, Ruth could have gone back to her own people, but she feared Naomi might starve or come to harm. So, in the face of danger, she stays regardless of consequences. She stays out of love.
In a patriarchal time, they have no husbands and no sons. They have no one to legally or culturally represent or protect them. They have no formal social safety net, but they do have the law of the Lord which calls for the people to love widows, orphans, and aliens. They have allowances for gleaning fileds to help care for for those in need. On top of that, the Mosaic code calls for a Redeemer (a Goel). A Redeemer is a person who, as the nearest relative of someone, is charged with the duty of restoring that person’s rights and avenging wrongs done to him or her. This duty and eventual love of Boaz, a faithful and observant Jew, becomes a mechanism for Ruth’s formal adoption into the people of Israel. It happens as he comes to see the inner beauty, love, and faithfulness of Ruth underneath any family or tribal name.
As I said, this story was likely written down upon the return of the exiled community. They came back to a land where only a small, faithful remnant remained, and Jewish women and men had come to marry into other tribes. It was a hot button issue of sorts at the time. In addressing this historic reality, A Jewish resource states, “Rabbis use her story to show that true ‘Jewishness’ is judged not by ancestry, but by acceptance of God and the mitzvot [commands of the Torah]. Indeed, it is from this convert’s line,” they teach, “that the savior of the Jewish people must be born.”[iii]
One might say that she was saved by grace through faith in the one true God, the faith of Abraham, and we as Christians believe that the ultimate Savior, Jesus has come. You should remember that as time unfolds, Ruth becomes the great-grandmother of King David and ultimately an ancestor of Jesus. Yes, even Jesus was not purely Jewish. (How appropriate for a person who has come to save the entire world, regardless of tribe or family status.)
For Jewish believers and Christians alike, Ruth is a model of steadfast love and mercy. In Hebrew, this is called hesed. It is loving kindness often offered to those who do not deserve it. It is love for love’s sake, As we wrestle with our anger or fear, as we face evil in the world or the hearts of others, perhaps we should seek to remember Ruth’s story. It challenges us not to sin in our anger, or exact revenge instead of justice, or ignore the suffering even of our enemies. For God hopes they will become part of out family, too. One seminary professor writes, “Like many other Old and New Testament passages (Exodus 4, Joshua 2, 2 Samuel 11, Acts 10:34-5, Romans 2:14-5), [the Book of Ruth] shows us that loyalty and faithfulness includes us among God’s people, not biology, genetics, culture, or history.”[iv] For whether we want it or not, always like it or not, God is calling us to ultimately live like family with one another.
So, tough love might sometimes be needed. Separation for a time for the sake of safety might be required in certain circumstances. Consequences, justice, or even war come to pass as needed. Yet, empathy, compassion, and love – no matter if one deserves it or not – always remains our ultimate call from God. Hesed should inform any action.
Yes, I know that we all will struggle with this as a fallen humanity prone to sin and holding grudges. True, we might never clearly see such an idyllic world come to pass in our lifetime. And still, God invites us to join in his holy efforts. Christ wills to draw all people to himself. The Holy Spirit ferments communion and seeks to transform the heart of everyone in love.
Whether others do or not, we are asked to strive to make hesed a reality and our ethical norm for all our actions…to seek to live like Naomi and Ruth. No matter how hopeless it sometimes seems; we are asked to hope in and live for God. For this is God’s will, and someday it will come to passs. Amen.
Most everyone in the United States recognizes St. Patrick’s Day (March 17) as a day for fun and wearing green. The genesis of our modern celebration comes from the many past Irish immigrants to the United States. We can trace the celebration’s origins back to New York in 1762 when Irish soldiers serving in the British military marched through the city to commemorate the “holy day,” giving rise to one of the most famous parades in the world.[i] Yet at its heart, St. Patrick’s Day is a religious feast day on the liturgical calendar. In Ireland, families traditionally go to church and have festive dinners. Although to be frank, the American style of celebration (too often centered on drinking beer to excess) has begun to impact Ireland over the last decades.
However, St. Patrick’s Day is not the only big day during this coming week. Just two days later (March 19), we mark the religious Feast of St. Joseph. Like the story of St. Patrick’s Day, Italian immigrants maintained and expanded upon traditions from home, as did Czechs, Poles, and many others who are inspired by St. Joseph. In many Italian communities, St. Joseph’s Day is HUGE. Reasons for this affection vary. There are indeed mythic if not superstitious stories of people saved from famine, shipwreck, or other calamity when they asked for St. Joseph’s blessing. Although we Lutherans reject the petitioning saints[ii] for aid since the Reformation, Lutherans still have Joseph on our liturgical calendars on March 19. The Church gives God thanks for Joseph’s loving life and witness of faith, and since at least the 9th Century, Joseph has been honored with the titles of Guardian, Educator, or Adoptive Father of our Lord.
With the feasts close association to the Italian community, how do people traditionally celebrate? Well, some cities offer special worship, festivals, or parades. Italians in New Orleans will have their parade on March 25th this year. Bostonians, near where I grew up, wait until July for their major festival. With St. Joseph’s Day falling on a Sunday in 2023, some will celebrate on the following Monday.
As they celebrate St. Joseph’s Day, people often wear red in the United States. I’ve not been able to determine why. I suspect it might be related to Joseph’s being a patron of workers in Catholicism. Workers movements often wear red, and as a carpenter (or builder) himself[iii], St, Joseph has been historically held up in opposition to Communism. In 1955, an additional feast day was declared by Pope Pius XII and is celebrated on May 1, International Workers’ Day (or May Day), rebranded as the separate Feast of St. Joseph the Worker.[iv]
Yet in light of his role in the Holy Family, people often seek to celebrate “family” as they remember St. Joseph. As they gather, families might create large St. Joseph Tables (or St. Joseph Altars) with three tiers of food, three representing the Trinity. These are sometimes created in a cross shape. People place flowers, limes, wine, fava beans, cakes, breads, cookies, and other meatless dishes (due to the feast day falling during Lent), as well as zeppole, an Italian pastry consisting of a deep-fried dough ball of varying size. Zeppole is often topped with powdered sugar or filled with custard, jelly, cannoli-style pastry cream, or a butter-and-honey mixture. In lieu of zeppole, a treat popular in Naples, Sicilians tend to prefer Sfingi, donuts that are often made from a dough of flour, sugar, eggs, and ricotta and rolled in sugar.
Why so many pastries? There’s an old legend that while exiled in Egypt, Joseph supported his family by selling…pancakes! (This was not necessarily our modern dish but suggests a Middle Eastern bread-like meal like pancakes.) Indeed, March 19th serves as Father’s Day in Italy. Originating in Tuscany and Umbria, Frittelle di San Giuseppe, a fried rice “pancake” (more like a small American doughnut), is now often served throughout the nation. If you are afraid to make such traditional Italian pastries and treats yourself, they are usually available on St. Joseph’s Day at local Italian deli-bakeries. Just ask. If that’s not for you, why not just have a pancake supper with your family?
Embodying sacred stories in celebration help create wonderful memories, but they also can plant seeds of faith. Thus, many Italians prepare special Lenten dishes that include breadcrumbs. The crumbs are meant to remind us of the Joseph’s vocation as a carpenter. You can also find artisan breads of varied shapes: a Latin cross (to remember Christ’s sacrifice), a baby (to honor Joseph’s role in the Holy Family), St. Joseph’s staff (legend has it that St. Joseph’s staff blossomed into a lily, a symbol both of life and death), a purse (a reminder to give alms), a sheaf of wheat (reminding us of John 12:24-26 but turned upside down serves as St. Joseph’s Beard), and many more.[v]
Due to the Joseph-related stories involving famine in Sicily, food proves a large part of the festival. Yet it isn’t a day for self-indulgence, hospitality is the goal along with providing food to any hungry neighbors. Making donations to help meet the needs of others is a common, important family or congregational activity. You might run across congregations inviting you to come help fill “St. Joseph Bags” for the hungry. People might give extra alms. So, perhaps you might like to make a special donation to a food bank, pantry, or other service organization this year? Donating to enCircle (formally Lutheran Family Services of Virginia) might be a worthy charity as they do so much work supporting families and foster care children.
Whatever you do to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, St. Joseph’s Day, or any holiday, I encourage you to seek activities that nurture relationship, teach and affirm our faith, and serve our neighbor. If you have some fun as well, that’s ok too.
[ii] Lutherans do have feast days to remember the life and Christian witness of remarkable people, but they serve as models for us, “that we may follow their faith and good works, according to our calling.” We do not “pray to saints” (ask for their intercession), as “we have an Advocate with the Father” (1 John 2:1). Learn more by reading Article XXI, Of the Worship of the Saints, in the Augsburg Confession: https://bookofconcord.org/augsburg-confession/of-worship-of-saints/ You might also like to read Article II, Of the Mass, in the Smalcald Articles: https://bookofconcord.org/smalcald-articles/ii/of-the-mass/
[iii] Although commonly called a carpenter, it might not be that simple. “The word the Gospels use is téktōn, a common term used for artisans, craftsmen, and woodworkers (so, yes, it can translate as “carpenter”), but also, interestingly, it can refer to stonemasons, builders, construction workers, or even to those who excel in their trade and are able to teach others (as in the Italian maestro).” See Esparaza, D. (February 8, 2019). Aletia. Were Jesus and Joseph Really Carpenters as downloaded on March 14, 2023 from https://aleteia.org/2019/02/08/were-jesus-and-joseph-really-carpenters/
Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this post are from the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) translation.
Originally published in the March 14, 2023 weekly newsletter, the Hub, of Christ Lutheran Church, Fredericksburg, VA, it was expanded upon for this post.
As Lent approaches once again, I recall my return to the Church during a similar Lent about thirty years ago. As I have already mentioned in worship, life had banged me up pretty well. Growing up, I faced many challenges, and as a young police officer, I was often subjected to violence, loss, and death. Indeed, I escaped near death experiences several times. Like many young adults, I had also made some bad choices, but I had likewise allowed myself to drift aimlessly from the faith community. I was easily distracted from faith matters by what seemed more accessible and important – things of this world. My faith, for the most part, had become just words.
My heart was sick although I did not realize it. When things seemed the worst, memories of what I had learned in campus ministry, youth groups, and even long-ago Sunday school classrooms spoke to me. These memories of relationship and seeds planted called me back. I was able to contact some of these past people who had befriended me on my earlier faith journey, and they became touchstones to help me find my way back to Christ. A lot of life has happened since, and it hasn’t often been easy. Yet with God’s help and the help of others, my “face has been set like flint” (Isa. 50:7) toward something greater than myself, a God who loves me.
Perhaps I experienced a synthesizing of faith more than a conversion, as I was baptized and grew up in the Church, but something significant and life-changing happened on the evening of March 7, 1992. (Ash Wednesday was March 4th that year.) I decided whatever the implications, I would commit to follow wherever Jesus led. Lent was a perfect time of year for this new start. As a community and individuals, we join Jesus as he sets his face toward Jerusalem, and we are asked to turn to the Lord and live. In worship, we often hear of prophets speaking of a God who, although wounded by our indifference if not antipathy, only has love for us. We learn of Jesus who seeing the marginalized and lost, rather than judging them, befriends them as his own and heals them. Through scripture and song, we discover a God who gives all out of love for us. By his death, with Christ’s last breath, we experience this. Jesus doesn’t curse us, but instead asks, “Father forgive them, they know not what they do” (Luke 23:24).
Lent is not meant to be a burden. It isn’t about feeling sorry for ourselves or judging ourselves harshly. It serves like a voice in the wilderness where God uses the Church community to call us home. Years can take us far away, but no matter how far we have strayed from our path following Jesus, somewhere in the depths of our heart, the Spirit is calling. Do we notice this quiet whisper of our name? This Lent, I hope each of us experience or rediscover the deepest meaning of Lent. God loves us and wants us to come home. God wants us to love like Jesus loves us – with more than words.
Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this post are from the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) translation.
Originally published in the February 2023 newsletter of Christ Lutheran Church, Fredericksburg, VA.
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).
2pennyblog 