“Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will affliction or distress or persecution or famine or nakedness or peril or sword?…No, in all these things we are more than victorious through him who loved us.” (Romans 8:35 and 37)
With the new year, people tend to wonder about what the future will bring. “Will the economy improve? Will I remain healthy? What might go wrong?” In the face of many uncertainties, we tend to set goals about more exercise, more Bible reading, more self-improvement across the board. We want to control our future – at least in some small way. Surveying history, we know one thing if nothing else. We are in for surprises, and we can only control so much. So, isn’t it wonderful that we have a God who holds us and carries us through our uncertainty? A God who loves us controls what we cannot.
Yes, God is filled with a steadfast love for you…for us and the world. Jesus said, “Why, even the hairs of your head are all numbered” (Luke 12:7 NRSVue). As God’s chosen people, Isaiah tells us that the Lord called us from the womb, from the body of our mothers God already knew us by name (Isaiah 49:1 NRSVue). Paul assures us that long ago, even before God made the world, God chose us to be his very own through what Christ would do for us. Before any human every took a breath, God decided then to make us holy in his eyes, without a single fault—we who stand before him covered with his love (Ephesians 1:4 NLT).
At the Virginia Military Institute, we used to call the months before us the Dark Ages. We would get up in the dark for breakfast, and we would end our duties in the dark. There would be few holidays but plenty of work to do. The darkness seemed to hide our future from us. Yet whatever our darkness or time of year, the light of Christ is still shining. Dark and uncertainty can never overcome it. We are loved, and although Christmas celebrations might be a memory, Jesus remains “God with Us.”
We are deeply loved. We are not alone. The darkness has no real power over us. Christ is the light. As we enter an uncertain new year, may the Spirit help us trust in the certain power of God’s love holding us and guiding us forward. We can pray with confidence like St. Augustine, “Let not my doubts and darkness speak to me. Let my heart always welcome your love.” For God already loves us, and whatever happens good or bad, always will.
Originally published in the January 2023 newsletter of Christ Lutheran Church, Fredericksburg, Virginia.
Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this post are from the New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition (NRSVue) translation.
“That there were shepherds, means that no one is to hear the Gospel for himself alone, but everyone is to tell it to others who are not acquainted with it. For he who believes for himself has enough and should endeavor to bring others to such faith and knowledge, so that one may be a shepherd of the other, to wait upon and lead him into the pasture of the Gospel in this world, during the nighttime of this earthly life.” – Martin Luther
During the season of Advent and Christmas, excitement builds as the story of Jesus is told. And, it needs to be told through sights and sounds! Martin Luther understood that no one can come to faith in Jesus until they hear about Jesus from the Church – you, me, and all who believe.
Among Luther’s own efforts, you will find the Christ Child or Christkindl. He promoted that Christ be adopted as the children’s gift-giver from December 6th through Christmas Eve. (This would incorporate practices related to St. Nicholas’ Day, St. Lucy’s Day, and other traditions.) The sprite-like child would not be seen by children, but Luther hoped practices related to the gifts’ arrival would help bring attention to the incarnation of Jesus.
The Christmas tree was encouraged by Luther, but once again, similar practices already existed. Saint Boniface (675-754), who Martin Luther admired, was a missionary in Germany. In an encounter with pagans, legends vary, but he was said to have struck down (perhaps miraculously) the Thunder Oak dedicated to Thor, often a place of sacrifice. (Some legends indicate it was a similar tree dedicated to Odin.) Boniface commended the people “gather about [a new tree], not in the wild wood, but in your own homes; there it will shelter no deeds of blood, but loving gifts and rites of kindness.” Luther might not have invented the Christmas tree, but he certainly promoted it’s use. In his own home, the candles lit were supposed to remind children of the stary night above Bethlehem. The angel on top reminds us of the first angels bringing us the Good News of Jesus.
The Advent Wreath is sometimes attributed to Luther, although that is unlikely the case. It probably has deeper pagan roots. Scholars often give Johann Hinrich Wichern (1808–1881), a Protestant pastor in Germany and a pioneer in urban mission work among the poor, credit as the inventor of the modern wreath. Still, Advent wreaths were used in 16th century German, and Martin Luther encouraged families to observe Advent as a time for them to teach their children about the coming of Christ. The wreath is a handy tool at dinner or before bed for exactly that.
Among my favorite tales of Luther and Christmas is how he celebrated intergenerationally with his own children. His hymn, “From heaven to Earth I Come,” was designed to be sung with the adults playing angels coming down the stairs and the children playing shepherds singing in response.
Truly, there’s no limit to family practices rooted in your region, ethnicity, or family. Yet how do these practices witness to Jesus? How can you best share in the joy that is Jesus with others? Whatever your answers, Kristine and I pray that Jesus become more present in your life through the festive weeks ahead. We wish you all the merriest of Christmases!
Originally published in the December 2022 newsletter of Christ Lutheran Church, Fredericksburg, Virginia.
Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this post are from the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) translation.
This sermon was preached on Trinity Sunday (June 12, 2022) at Christ Lutheran Church in Fredericksburg, VA. You can listen to the sermon on my companion podcast:S1, Ep18, or watch it on our congregational YouTube channel.
Dance of the Trinity (water color on canvas) by Margie Thompson, SSJ, M.F.A. (The artist reserves all rights to the painting. Citation includes link to her work.)
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
On this Trinity Sunday, I was reminded of a brief but illuminating story shared elsewhere. An elder member of a congregation was feeling lonely in a nursing home when members of his congregation stopped in for a visit. While there, one read some scripture, another offered prayer, and together they all shared memories of their past along with the joys and sorrows of their present. As the visit concluded and the visitors prepared to depart, the older man said, “How did you know this is what I needed today? This was awesome!”
There had been no visions or prophesy shared. There were no miraculous healings visible. Yet, the man and his visitors both knew they had shared something sacred – something awesome and holy had been experienced. The man felt strengthened and encouraged for whatever lay ahead. He felt connected to these people, his congregation, and God once again. He was reminded that he was not alone…was never alone…and remained loved. That’s no small thing. And so, the man expressed his amazement and wonder the best way he knew how. He named what he had experienced with one, imperfect word, “Awesome!”[i]
When we sense that we have experienced the sacred, our human words often fall short. Poets and artists might try. Scientists of faith (such as Isaac Newton, Robert Boyle, George Washington Carver, or even Florence Nightingale in her work to create safer and more sanitary medical care)…so many scientists including many modern ones…have experienced awe inspiring, faith affirming events through their work. Yet whoever they were or are, they could never fully explain their experience. There was always something more to know. Yet this shouldn’t surprise us. How can a limitless, infinite, omnipresent and omniscient God be captured by any human means of communication, art, or even science? With our limited abilities and brain space, as created beings, we cannot fully understand God, or we would be God.
So, we try as best we can to make sense of it all and express the mysteries of God. We use allegories, allusions, similes, and more to capture bits and pieces of who God is and how God interacts with us. Theologians write and write and write trying to identify God and our relationship with God. In Martin Luther’s case over fifty-five very thick volumes of his writings have been collected and translated into English (just those in English!). Still, these millions of words fall short. God’s works are so wonderous and so many that the psalmist writes, “Were I to proclaim and tell of them, they would be more than can be counted” (Psalm 40:5).
This holy conundrum represents the issues we might experience with our theological understanding of God as a Trinity. We cannot fully explain the relationship between Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. We cannot fully describe our encounters with God. Indeed, from the earliest times of the Church, some people have rejected this Trinitarian construct. Early radicals and nonconformists of the Church tried, but their teachings were deemed heretical and rejected. Later, Christianized barbarians and still other believers rejected the Trinity, and the Church answered them all with creeds – imperfect yet concise statements of our belief (credo means “I believe” in Latin”). Indeed, even today’s Feast of the Holy Trinity was addred to the Church Year to help combat the rejections of and misunderstandings related to the Holy Trinity or Godhead – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
The Apostles’ Creed, the Nicene Creed, and the Athanasian Creed all speak of God in terms of Father who is the Creator, Son who is Savior, and the Holy Spirit which prays for us, guides, protects and nurtures us, and draws us into belief of and communion with our Triune God and Christ’s Church. The Athanasian Creed (the last creed created as agreed to by east and west) proclaims as it begins, “Now this is the catholic (universal) faith: We worship one God in trinity and the Trinity in unity, neither confusing the persons nor dividing the divine being. For the Father is one person, the Son is another, and the Spirit is still another. But the deity of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is one, equal in glory, coeternal in majesty. What the Father is, the Son is, and so is the Holy Spirit.” The creed goes on and on (it’s the longest of our three Ecumenical Creeds), but in short, it identifies that the Godhead or Trinity has varied attributes or characteristics, different functions that we might see or recognize, but somehow, some way, remains always one. Again, the creed reminds us, “What the Father is, the Son is, and so is the Holy Spirit.” At some level, the Church knows it (the Trinity) when we see it, but we see it only when and as God reveals itself to us. Thus, we cannot exactly put our finger on it, but with God’s help, we know it is there. (Whew! Does your head hurt yet? Now, you know a bit of what it feels like to be in seminary.)
In our first reading, we meet a personification of Holy Wisdom as a female. When God made the heavens and created all things, it was there. So, many see this passage as a reference to the Holy Spirit. Jesus, himself is called the Alpha and Omega in scripture (the first and last letters of the Greek alphabet) to help us understand that Jesus always was, is, and will be. God, who is called Father in one popular prayer gifted to us by Jesus, is also alluded to as being like a Mother Hen, or like a mom nursing a child, as well as described with other feminine imagery. We are told that God, our Creator, spoke everything that is into being out of nothing. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are one…of spirit…existing in and outside of time simultaneously …working within and yet not subject too all the physical and metaphysical laws and constructs one might be able to identify. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit were one at creation. And with the many male and female attributes of God, it has been revealed that God is neither male or female but ultimately spirit, and we are told that male and female alike are created in God’s image.
Yet, humans meet God over linear time. We came to understand God better as we met God throughout history…much like a deepening relationship. And so, we are tempted to think that God the Creator came first, then Jesus was born, and then the Holy Spirit came on Pentecost. That make sense to us because we live in time, yet…ehhhh (making a buzzer sound)…that’s wrong…totally wrong. As some hymns try to convey (“Lord of the Dance” or “Come to the Dance of the Trinity” for example), it is as if the three persons of the Trinity eternally dance together throughout time, outside of time, and in our lives. God is Lord of the Dance, and we created creatures are invited to dance amidst the Trinity. It is in dancing that God reveals God’s self, and we come to know God, but God always was, is, and will remain more than what we experience or understand.
In today’s Gospel from John, we hear Jesus definitively make such connections without using any pure and pat Trinitarian formula. What belongs to God belongs to Jesus. What the Spirit shares comes from (belongs to) Jesus and thus also God the Creator. They are one, unified in purpose, essence, in all things. And yet, curiously, Jesus doesn’t go into any long explanation. Who God is gets revealed to us, and at best, it remains a matter of trust (of faith) because we cannot know all there is to know. Would Jesus lie about such things? I don’t think so. And yet, I must confess, I cannot fully understand the Trinity either. No human can.
As humans, it can be hard to accept that we can never fully obtain knowledge of God in this life. We like being in control, and knowledge gives us such power to contain and organize our lives that we might think that we are in control. Yet, life is never fully controllable. Good things happen to bad people at times, and bad things happen to the good among us at times. And yet, as we hear scripture where new meanings are discovered that seem to speak directly to us and our situation, when we fall in love with someone who just seems to get us, when someone calls at just the right moment, when the door that helps us escape an unpleasant situation opens toward a new future filled with hope, when we witness a new birth in creation or our family…ah, we know it (the Trinity) when we see it. A spark within us helps open us to the sacred at work right in front of us, and we perhaps come to believe just a little bit more. Maybe there is a meaning to life after all? Maybe there is a God who loves us?
And perhaps when all the words are spoken, when there are no more scientific theories to be conjectured, and when artist’s imaginations run dry…perhaps then, we will see God as God truly is….as John elsewhere writes, “God is love.” Maybe that’s enough for us to know. God created the world out of love. Jesus offered his own life for us out of love. The Spirit resides with us, guides us, and connects us out of love. We are told that God loved us in our mother’s womb, down to each hair on our head. God loves us even when we run away like Adam and Eve or any of the Prodigal Sons and Daughters among us, or even as we fail. God love us enough to share in our death, so that we can be free from the power of death. God loved us before we ever knew of God, and our Triune God promises to actively, presently, always and forever love us. I don’t know about you, but I would say that God is awesome. Maybe like the man in the nursing home, that’s all one can really say. Amen.
[i] Story adapted from “Daily Discipleship” (June 3, 2007) by the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America.
Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this post are from the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) translation.
Raising of Tabitha, sarcophaus fragment, Musee de La’Arles Antique, 4th century AD. Giuseppe Wilpert. Rome: Pontificio Istituto di Archeologia Cristiana, 1929. Plate CXLV, no 6.
This sermon was preached on the Fourth Sunday in Easter (May 8, 2022) at Christ Lutheran Church in Fredericksburg, VA. Currently the worship video is not available due to a techincal issue.You can listen to the sermon on my companion podcast: S1,E15.
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
As the Book of Acts recounts the anecdotes of the early Church, we see Jesus’ teachings play out, become real, and even be expanded upon if not clarified within ordinary, everyday human lives. God works in history, yet these stories aren’t meant to be historical in the modern sense. In short, Acts is primarily a theological treatise hoping to spark and sustain faith.
Indeed, the author of Acts, St. Luke, writes that he set pen to paper to help provide the world with “an orderly account” of the promises that had been fulfilled among them as the early Church (see Luke 1:1). Starting in his gospel account of Jesus and extending into life amidst Christ’s earliest followers, Luke supplies us with a kind of “apologetic historiography” that helps establish and justify the origin and development of Christian peoples among the many faith traditions and cultures of his time.
Basically, as Professor Carl R. Holladay outlines in one of my favorite scholarly journals called Interpretation: A Journal of Bible and Theology[i], Luke seems to tell his story in such a way to help the hearers believe, but also he wishes to help us identify divine cause and effect. For example, Paul’s mission to eastern Asia Minor leads to the Jerusalem Conference (Acts 15) to discuss the future of Gentiles in what has primarily been a Jewish movement at that point. Then, the decisions made at that conference lead directly to Paul’s mission in the region of the Aegean Sea and eventually toward Rome. Indeed, in Luke’s understanding, just as the prophets’ life and testimony pointed to and connects with Jesus’ own glory, it is Jesus who animates and sends us out into the world. Our story is sewn into this larger, eternal story. Christ’s love at work in our lives leads to miracle upon miracle.
And in approaching history in this way, Luke understands that God’s ways are woven into all the tapestry of history, including individual lives and the smallest events. There’s both a personal intimacy and an overarching divine purpose being worked out among us…being fulfilled among us. We aren’t subjected to dumb luck or coldhearted fate; God has a loving plan for us…each and every one of us. And although bad things can happen to good people in a fallen world, or we can make bad choices hurting ourselves and others, it remains ok. God has the power and God wills to ultimately work things out for our welfare and to God’s glory. That’s partly why Luke doesn’t account for the Apostle Mark’s work establishing the Church in Egypt, or St. Thomas’ work in India, or other important Apostolic stories. It isn’t that these events weren’t significant or that miracles didn’t happen. No, Luke’s focus is on the grand design that wishes to spread faith from the center of the Jewish world, Jerusalem, into and throughout the gentile world as represented by Rome. Luke wants to clarify the Church’s role in the world in comparison to its two primary, contemporary accusers, Judaism and Roman religion and culture. So, his tale tends to follow Peter and Paul in their roller coaster ride toward Rome.
Certainly, Luke is not recounting some dull and dusty history. Luke is telling the story of Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, who died and is risen from the dead…for you and for me. And Jesus’ power is still at work in, through, and around us. Luke sees a connection between what happened in “former times,” what is happening in his day, and right through our lives to “the last days” – the end of time. There’s a singular, loving purpose connecting all lives and moving us toward an ancient promise yet to be fulfilled – the resurrection of the dead and establishment of a new heaven and earth where we will live eternally with God in glory. As such, the Book of Acts incorporates the stories of many diverse individuals, and again, Luke assumes we play a part in this narrative too.
And so, we now come to the story of Tabitha – a life linked to the story of Jesus and our own. A fellow graduate student of mine, now a seminary professor, Dr. Raj Nadella, succinctly summarized the scene: “The story of Peter raising Tabitha from the dead parallels the story of Jairus’ daughter in Luke 8:40-56. While Jairus’ people advocated for his daughter in Luke 8, believers at Joppa advocate for Tabitha in this chapter. In both stories, the miracle occurs in a private setting. Just as Jesus sends everyone except Peter, James, and John out of the room prior to the miracle, Peter sends everyone out in this story. In both accounts, the deceased comes back to life after being ordered to get up. It is as if Peter, who was present when Jesus raised Jairus’ daughter from the dead, replicates a similar miracle at Joppa.”[ii] Do you hear the recurring, reverberating sound of God’s love at work as Luke tells it? God’s love echoes throughout time. As so many observe, Luke sees that history repeats itself. Yet, it is not exactly the same story, is it? Things have changed. Most importantly, Christ is risen! (Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia!) That Easter promise is still unfolding; the Kingdom of God birthing into our world through our lives. In this incident of resurrection, people with the help of the Spirit can understand that Christ’s authority has been truly shared with his followers. It is a hope-filled experience where Luke sees the victory of God and God’s people over the forces of death. Luke’s expectation and hope is that those who hear it for the first time or remember it in the future will come to an ever-deepening trust in Jesus as Lord.
Sadly, there are some who argue against the truth of such stories because they have never seen such things. Others in their enthusiasm or greed, sell videos on how you, too, can raise the dead. (It is true. As crazy as it might sound, I’ve seen them, and I know of someone who fell for this scam.) Yet even the Bible indicates raising from the dead is a rare thing. Surely, it wouldn’t be deemed such a big miracle if rising folks from death was a norm. It is important for us to recall that with the thousands of years covered, the Hebrew scriptures only preserves a handful of resurrection accounts enabled through the faith of prophets. Perhaps more surprisingly, Jesus himself is reported to have raised only three people from the dead during his earthly ministry (the widow’s son at Nain, Jairus’ daughter, and Lazarus). When someone is raised from the dead or miraculously healed…or not…one can always be sure that God has a very good and special reason for what God does or does not do. Somehow, God’s answer to our prayer – whether yes or no – will always be informed by God’s love for us and the world.
And so despite doubters, one can certainly find stories here and there of those risen from the dead or miraculously healed or helped if one looks. In my own life, there was a time when I served as a hospice chaplain to a person actively dying. (This means there were medical signs of impending death as judged by competent medical authorities). The family was Christian, but they had a hard time accepting his death and prayed for a miracle. As I prayed, they started to take over. They begged, pleaded and cajold hoping against hope that they could have even one more day with the one they loved. As I left that night, he was in a comatos-like state. When we were done praying, I said my goodbyes and went home. The next day, I received a call from a nurse. Somehow, someway, he was up and walking around, alert and talking, the next morning. The man’s doctor, nurse and hospice staff were rightly amazed. I was amazed. Science could not explain it. Yet the family that prayed so diligently, so passionately, with me that night saw this clearly as an affirmation of their own faith and hope. They gave thanks to God. All good things come from God, so who can say – however it happened – that they are wrong. I certainly will not! Strange things happen…miraculous and unusual things. Yet with all such miracle stories – whether Lazarus, Tabitha, or even the man I knew who was actively dying – the people involved eventually died. This incident wasn’t the End Times’ eternal, resurrected life with Jesus that we have in this passage. No, these miracles happen to call people into or affirm faith while we wait for that day. That’s what God uses miracles for. The love of God shows itself in a unique, concrete, if not intimate way for a particular and greater purpose. And so perhaps today’s account isn’t ultimately about Peter’s exemplary faith or Tabitha’s getting up from being dead after all? These details remain important, but I would like to suggest with others that Luke is pointing us toward something more. Again, this story is our story.
In Tabitha, we have a poor woman (a person at the margins of society likely due to her social and economic status and sex), and yet, our mighty God graciously, unexpectedly chooses to work miracles in her life. By that, I don’t mean God worked just through her resurrection (for that’s the low hanging fruit of the story). No, humble Tabitha, named Dorcas in Greek, was a seamstress who was known for her “good works and acts of mercy.” She echoed God’s love throughout her life. Her life and faith touched the lives of others and changed them for the better through relationships built on love. As Dr. Nadella also notes, “Her compassion and care allowed her to build a beloved community that became her family.”[iii] That’s the big and lasting miracle here – her legacy of love…ultimately Jesus’ legacy. Tabitha would experience death again, but in Christ, through her love shared and still being passed on through the Church, she lives on. And one day, Christ promises that we will all stand with him resurrected in his glory forever. Her story, our story, in no way ends with death.
For some, no matter what is said or how one tries to account for it, the story of Tabitha will remain an old wives’ tale. Yet, I believe with the early Church that the same divine love which raised her to life can be found at work in the lives of all those ordinary people who trust in Jesus – including yours and mine. That love was at work in Tabitha all along even before she or others perhaps recognized it, and it is still at work now. It is always at work even when we don’t see it or fully understand it. As a past seminary professor of mine attests, “God’s love creates, redeems and sustains without ceasing.”[iv] Through a faith, hope, and love lived out…echoing from and embodying Christ’s own life given for us…we become one with Christ’s story, power, and purpose…one with his love. We are transformed through that love into a resurrected people, walking in the world to change it, sharing in a legacy of love that will ripple throughout time without end. We can live generously like Tabitha, assured that death does not have the final word, because Jesus is the final word. And, it is he who has claimed us as his own forever. Amen.
[i] Holladay, C.R. (July 2012). “Interpreting Acts.” Interpretation: A Journal of Bible and Theology, 66(3), 245-258. Washington, DCs: Sage Publications
[ii] Nadella, R. (May 2022). Commentary on Acts 9:36-43 as downloaded from workingpreacher.org on May 5, 2022.
This sermon was preached on the Feast of the Resurrection of our Lord (April 17, 2022) at Christ Lutheran Church. Currently the recording and video is not available due to a techincal issue.
Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
On a perfect Easter morning, as the sun rises and sanctuaries overflow with the scent of spring flowers…as we hear the giggles and screams of children searching for all those elusive Easter eggs…it is easy to be caught up in all the excitement. The music, the greetings, songs and prayers, even the food shared…all of this creates a tone of celebration if not victory. Rightly so, for Christ is risen! (Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia!).
And yet at the same time, how far away from that first Easter morning we can thus find ourselves. No, nothing was certain or celebratory on that first Easter morning. People only understood that Jesus had died. Those who loved him had hurriedly placed him in the tomb before the start of the sabbath, and now on the first day of the Jewish work week, women who loved him, disciples, came to finish their job preparing Jesus’ body for eternal rest. Amidst the pain and worry of the last week, Jesus’ promises of resurrection had been pushed aside…if not forgotten. The immediacy of the threats around them captured their attention. The grief related to his tortuous death consumed them. There was no celebration as they came to the tomb. They expected the worse. They expected death. Indeed, most of Christ’s disciples had abandoned him at his arrest and remained in hiding.
Yet when times get hard, why do we look for the living among the dead? We are much like those first disciples – those in hiding and those women trying to muddle through by doing just what they need to do to get through their day. We can forget about Christ’s resurrection promises. We can focus on our need, our grief, or our obligations and worry instead. We get lost in the present when Jesus and his Spirit all along keep trying to point us toward a future filled with hope. Yes, how humbling…those disciples are much like us. We can struggle to believe. We can wrestle with our faith. We can doubt.
And at such low points in our lives, the empty tomb lies before us. Its legacy reaching through the ages to confront our unbelief, our doubts and darkness. Again, why are we looking for the living among the dead? Why don’t we live as if Jesus lives? As we spoke about a few weeks ago, the stench of death is always floating around us, taunting us…telling us to be afraid. And yet so much more is going on. Jesus rose to defeat sin and death and guarantees us (guarantees us!) that even as we might struggle for our daily bread…or hope…an abundant, fruitful life can be ours starting now – from the very moment we believe. Amidst death, we can choose life…we can choose to trust in Jesus…because Jesus lives.
Much like those women, if we come to belief in Christ’s resurrection, we will likely struggle with our words. It might seem an idle, foolish tale to even our friends and family. It might be hard for us to believe never mind express. Christ is risen! (He is risen indeed!) Yet what does that mean for us…to us? How does his victory over sin and death resonate if not resound in and through our lives? Christ’s resurrection should matter with our every breath and transform each of our steps into sacred ones. Yes, “As it is written, ‘How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!’” (Romans 10:15).
With the resurrection of Jesus, everything has changed. All is new. Truly, St. Paul called it the start of a new and final age of history…a time for expectation to replace fear. We understand from scripture that the Kingdom of God is no longer just near, it has broken into our world and is still rushing in until it reaches its fullness. Imagine, heaven in the real world! It seems preposterous…impossible… and yet that is what the resurrection proclaims to us. In the risen body of Jesus transformed from death to life, we are asked to find an affirmation of all that Jesus taught and promised. Facing the empty tomb with these women disciples and Peter, we are asked to remember Jesus’ words and choose to believe.
Prior to Jesus’ death, he asked his disciples, “Who do you say that I am?” That question has only now grown in importance. We know what others might say, but who do you (Robert, Judy, John, Anne and Lou, whoever you may be)… Jesus is asking, “Who do you say that I am?” We cannot explain the mystery of the resurrection, so why do you…why do we…believe? That’s a sobering question because we can never know enough about Jesus. As imperfect humans, we can never understand enough or become worthy enough. At some point, we must surrender our need for knowledge and explanation; throwing our lives into the arms of our Risen Lord who is waiting to welcome us. In our weakness and want, we can only trust.
Having come to belief, the women did not know and understand all. As they went to tell others, they struggled with their words. The other disciples wrestled to trust in their story. Peter himself ran to the tomb to see for himself…only to find it empty…and with all that he had heard and seen, he walked away – not confirmed in his faith – but amazed…amazed! He was scratching his head…rubbing his eyes…trying to make sense of it all…wondering if his hope could really prove true. These great saints, the first of Christ’s chosen ones, struggled with faith. And so perhaps we can go easy on ourselves if we struggle at times too. Yet although gentleness might be called for, we are asked to share in not just their amazement and wonder but also their courage and hope. We are invited to believe without seeing and have our lives transformed.
As I’ve said elsewhere, the resurrected life that we are invited to share in is one of living relationship and experience. Faith must be lived. According to Jesus, ours is to be a resurrected life of service, fellowship, and corporate worship. It is one where we seek to follow Jesus each day as best as we can and introduce him to others even as we stumble in our telling. It is one where we might yet be called to share in the sting of Christ’s sacrifice and cross out of love for God and others. In hoping, believing, seeking…in daring to live for Jesus without all our questions being answered…Jesus will make himself known to us on our way. Jesus will prove true to his promise because Jesus does not lie.[i]
Yes, for our part, we are asked only to dare to hope…dare to hope…that this two thousand plus year story is true. It has come to us from person to person – against all odds – from people who had their lives changed for the better through belief while often under severe persecution. It has been affirmed through reported miracles. And indeed, some of these miracles were great, but most often miracles are ordinary things…small things…understood in an extraordinary, grace-filled way. I’ve also seen the resurrection testified to through the lives of others…great saints and ordinary ones…like my friends’ parents who loved me as a troubled youth and testified to Jesus in the way they did so…or as with the Ethiopian pastor who I met who rather than recant his faith suffered imprisonment and torture…or my friend from Bosnia who escaped genocide (crossing snow covered mountains on foot) under the threat of death because he knew he could not…would not…give up his resurrection hope in Jesus. For centuries before us, people have been willing to testify to the resurrection with their lives…risking their lives…stretching their lives to welcome others in Christ’s name…They did so because they dared believe in Christ’s resurrection. Such people and stories encourage me to risk believing and loving daily. As I recall such people and their stories, they help me walk on in faith.
Yes, the conundrum of the resurrection will never be solved by science. It cannot be proven beyond the shadow of a doubt with any human words. Yet, its truth can only be found through faith…in daring to live as if it is true…and the Risen Christ, because he loves us, will reveal himself to us…not just in times of victory but also amidst our times of doubt and darkness too. Christ is risen! (Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia!) Jesus is no longer amidst the dead. He is heaven in our very real world, inviting us to follow him…to walk with him…and to come see his glory for ourselves. As a friend wrote, “It is he, the Risen Lord, who brings us together. Although he remains invisible to our eyes, he can be mysteriously present for every human being, for each one of us.”[ii] We gather, and serve, and hope because Christ is Risen! (Christ is risen indeed! Alleluia!) Amen.
[i] “Jesus does not lie” was a favorite saying of Martin Luther.
The audio version of this post can be listened to here.
In 2011, I remember when members of a former L’Arche community from Lynchburg, Virginia visited my past congregation, Messiah Lutheran (Mechanicsville), for the first time. Speaking of such communities, L’Arche USA explains, “The first L’Arche community was founded in 1964 in the small town of Trosly, France in response to the inhumane conditions of the large institutions where people with intellectual disabilities had been placed.” From that first community of four people living together as one, with one person more able and three persons having profound disabilities, has grown an international network of communities based on love and mutuality. All members give of themselves. All members receive gifts of God’s grace through others. My friends in L’Arche Metro Richmond testify, “L’Arche is global community of faith that celebrates the gifts of persons with developmental disabilities – gifts of welcome, wonderment, spontaneity, and directness. They touch hearts and call others to unity through simplicity and vulnerability.” Honest, trusting, loving relationship binds them and helps everyone grow.
In preparing our welcome, we had taken down the center altar rail where people normally communed. We knew a number of those visiting us had physical disabilities and some used wheelchairs, and this simple change would help with access. As soon as I had invited people forward to share in the meal, a young lady from L’Arche came running. She came right up to the altar itself and joined the assisting minister, acolyte, and me as we prepared to offer the Lord’s Supper. She came hungrily, joyfully holding out her hands in front of me with one of the biggest smiles I have ever seen. She wasn’t concerned about propriety, yet she was reverent. She understood that this was a moment of sacred celebration – Christ with us. She felt loved and accepted, comfortable enough to charge up to the altar with great abandon as if she was sharing a meal in her own home at L’Arche. Even as a stranger to me, she absolutely belonged. There was something beautiful in that moment. There was something theologically and perhaps even scripturally poignant if not profound. Those so often seen among the least would once again be first. They would bless us with their joy and simplicity of trust that they were loved by Jesus, even as they were welcomed by Jesus through us.
As we prepare in 2022 to enter Christ Lutheran’s 75th anniversary year, I wonder what we can learn from that experience. What keeps us back from fully embracing the gift of community offered us? Where can we tear down barriers both concrete or symbolic that might otherwise serve to keep those who might be timid or afraid away? We have a great deal to celebrate in a community that has blessed us in so many ways, but how can we better share that blessing with others? With this anniversary, we aren’t just to look backward. We are invited to rush forward seeking Jesus! He is calling others who might not yet know him. He is waiting to come to others through our hands, feet, and hearts. Each one of us has a part to play if only we will risk showing up.
A 75th anniversary is traditionally understood to be appropriate for gifts of gold or even diamonds. Yet, our true treasure can only be found in Christ often as we share his love. That’s why we were created and called. It is our deepest, most meaningful significance. If you don’t sense that wonder or joy yet, do not be alarmed. Christ is still shining within you. He promises this, and his love has burned within you even before you knew him. Seek to listen to him instead of the darkness whispering within and around us. Jesus once told his disciples, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” You are his child, not because of what you do or your strength of faith, but because he invites you. Come, taste and see!
Pastor Lou has been bleesed from being an active member of L’Arche Metro Richmond’s Community Life Group, an official project of L’Arche USA. If you would like to support them in their life together as they move toward full community status or you want more infromation, please visit: larchemetrorichmond.org
Originally published in the February 2022 newsletter of Christ Lutheran Church, Fredericksburg, Virginia.
Click this image to read the article alluded to below in my blog, “Why Do Confederate Lies Live On” in The Atlantic.
“When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways” (1 Corinthians 13:11).
Recently, I came across an excellent article in The Atlantic called “Why Do Confederate Lies Live On.” It was written by Clint Smith, an African American staff writer with the magazine. Focused on his experience with the chapel at Blandford Cemetery, it gave me reason to pause and reflect about my own life.
VMI Cadet Hartsfield of the Battle of New Market is buried somewhere in the Blanford Cemetery in a grave lost to history. In 2014, Petersburg’s VMI alumni group asked me to offer an invocation and benediction for their recognition of the 150th anniversary of the Battle of New Market on May 15th. I was serving as a pastor in Richmond at the time. I naively expected a small, outside event from what I was told. It ended up being a larger event in this cemetery chapel. (I had never heard of this chapel before my visit.)
I was told a World War 2 veteran who survived landing just a day or so after D-Day and fought through the war would speak about his experiences. He did, and that was positive. I did not expect a local SCV color guard with the Stars and Bars battle flag or the explicitly Confederate windows. It was sort of creepy and fascinating at the same time.
My previously prepared prayer alluded to the errors and evils of the Civil War. Yet now, I wish that I had explicitly and strongly refuted slavery and racism as part of it. I mentioned how the cadets’ actions under fire likely helped lead to the preservation and restoration of VMI after the war and perhaps indirectly helped shape or inspire folks like George C. Marshall and Civil Rights Martyr, Jonathan Daniels, and others to bravery or to do their duty. (At some level, I think that remains true for me.) I realize that God can make good come from anything, even our sin. I prayed VMI and our nation would become ever better, more just, and reconciled.
On one hand, I was honored to be asked by fellow alumni, especially for this momentous 150th anniversary year of the Civil War. My fellow alumni were hospitable, and like many alumni including myself, love VMI. On the other hand, I wish I went further and spoke more clearly about the sins of racism, slavery and treason. I value history, but we need to tell the whole story – even the ugliest parts.
Even though I’m from the north, even though some of my ancestors fought for the United States during the rebellion, even though my First Class dykes (senior mentors are called dykes after the cross-belts or dykes worn as part of the uniform) used to have me answer, “The United States of America, Sir,” to the question at VMI about who won the Civil War, the Lost Cause Myth can insidiously take hold of a person if we aren’t wary. It can obscure our vision and understanding, as well as stir division or wound others unintentionally. The myth dresses up and softens what’s ugly. After all, that myth and racism in all forms are just more signs of sin at work in our lives and world. And, sin often traps us subtly over time.
I’m not the person I was in 2014. My attitudes have hopefully continued to evolve, and I pray I continue to grow in understanding and empathy. Wherever needed, I desire the wisdom to repent of my sin including any sin related to racism. I want the courage to challenge racism wherever it is encountered. I’m not looking to erase history. I understand all of us, even the best of us, can only be simultaneously sinner and saint and never perfect. It can be helpful to remember the past. Yet as Christians, we understand we are always reforming. We need to separate ourselves from rigid, dualistic (that everything is all good or all bad), or simplistic thinking and bravely embrace the truth of our past and our present whatever we might see. We can love and respect our enemies, even those of the past, even as we seek to see them and their failures as they truly are.
In springtime, I often come to think of Thérèse de Lisieux as I take my walks. Thérèse was known for seeing God in the little things, even spring flowers or butterflies. She would regularly stop to reflect upon their intricate beauty. In her own way, it was a source of what we might call meditation or mindfulness. By focusing on her experiences of the moment, she discovered a deeper sense of peace and beauty around her and ultimately at work in her. She recognized even as she battled chronic, often debilitating illness, that she had reason to hope. Even in her illness, she could serve and be faithful to God. Simplicity was her watchword, often called by her “the little way.” And she herself eventually became commonly known as “the Little Flower.” For as much as many would overlook God’s work in creation, contemporaries often overlooked the spiritual beauty found in her lifestyle and vision. Yet today, she is remembered in Roman Catholic and Protestant seminaries and congregations across the world.
Martin Luther once quipped, “Our Lord has written the promise of resurrection, not in books alone, but in every leaf in springtime.” This is most certainly true! Yet, in this busy world, do we often stop to reflect on the gracious beauty at work in each of us and the world? Through our faith and baptism, God is still sharing the promises of the Gospel, and although not everyone will notice or believe it, all our lives make a difference. Indeed, Jesus died and rose from the dead for every one of us. As we are and for what we will become through grace, he sees value and beauty in each of us.
Much as Paul argued that each of us play a varied part in the body of Christ, Thérèse saw us as flowers in the garden. “I understood that every flower created by Him is beautiful, that the brilliance of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not lessen the perfume of the violet or the sweet simplicity of the daisy. I understood that if all the lowly flowers wished to be roses, nature would no longer be enameled with lovely hues. And so, it is in the world of souls, Our Lord’s living garden.”
Scripture reveals to us that God is our Master Gardner. God has planted us in the region of Fredericksburg to do some particular good, to add unique beauty, and to be individual and communal signs of life and hope. We bloom through worship, fellowship, and service. We are rooted in his love. Yet as summer travels begin again, local gatherings increase, and some might have to continue to stay away due to medical issues or other concerns, know that you are not forgotten. Indeed, you are missed. Come back to us when ready with new stories and love to share. For you make a difference to us, and together, we are most beautiful. I wish you a happy and meaningful summer ahead.
Image: Picture by the author.
Originally published in the June 2021 newsletter of Christ Lutheran Church, Fredericksburg, VA.
“Pursue peace with everyone, and the holiness without which no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one fails to obtain the grace of God; that no root of bitterness springs up and causes trouble, and through it many become defiled.” Hebrews 12:14-15
As I write this, it seems a bitter time. Some suggest the fall will see a spike in pandemic cases. Others fear or argue over the nomination process for the Supreme Court. There’s concern about the vitality of the economy, protests, violence, corruption and crime. The list could go on, but will listing out all that is wrong with our fallen world help us? In my experience no, and I think scripture agrees.
If we look at the world, ourselves, or others and only see the bad, we are making a mistake. I have done that in my past, and it led me into a dark and lonely place. It fractured my relationships. It might be human, but sin is very human too. Even in Martin Luther’s time, it was 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 everyone 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.” He challenged believers to: think the best of people (show them compassion and grace); to consider why in their woundedness they might be acting or speaking as they are (practice empathy); to not rush in judging (where we might fall into sin that is greater, acting as if we are God). Simply put, if we see the world in simple terms of clear good and evil, our vision is impaired. We are the one’s who choose to wound ourselves. Then like a sickness, anger, cynicism and sin can and will most certainly spread to others.
Sometimes, I find it hard not to get angry at others. Yet, when I struggle, I try to remember the warnings and encouragement of scripture and our Lutheran confessions. “We love because God loved us first.” If Jesus had not risen from the dead, if he did not promise to return, if he hadn’t said that there would be times of trial, fear and even persecution, but we would be and are ok, perhaps then scorn might be justified. Instead, we are asked to remember that Jesus is the vine and we are the branches. He’s the anchor we can trust in during any storm. Jesus has already made us victors over sin, death and the devil, and we can choose to love – love even those that don’t deserve it or love us back – no matter what happens because he loves us.
Now, I’m not saying consequences or tough actions are never needed. I’m asking, as I ask myself, “Why are we doing what we are doing? How does it reflect Christ’s own love for us?” We need not act like “everyone else.” We are to be in this world but not of it, and that’s a tough spot to be in. Yet it remains true, that we are baptized. We are forgiven and loved. We are empowered by the Spirit to be ambassadors for Christ’s kingdom no matter what political winds blow. Just as evil can spread person to person, so can the justice, peace and love of God. What will we choose to be part of in this world – a root of bitterness or blessing?
Yes, people can prove difficult, ignorant, or worse. I can’t deny it. Yet, they are only human after all. And the world can be unfair, but so is God’s grace. Despite all the storms raging around us, we have been chosen to be like the first bow God put down in the sky declaring a beautiful and everlasting peace.
Unless otherwise indicated, all scripture quotations for this article are from the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV) translation.
This pastoral letter was originally published in Christ Lutheran Church’s October 2020 newsletter.
I wouldn’t post this if it weren’t for the fact I see too many friends on Facebook expressing the same opinion in not so many words. “Sacrifice the weak. Reopen the economy.” A simple, utilitarian approach is antithetical to Christian faith.
No, we need not unnecessarily “martyr” the economy nor “sacrifice the weak.” Yes, I understand that sacrifices will need to be made, among all, and these sacrifices won’t always be perceived as fair. Life isn’t fair. Yet, we do need to remember the “least of these” and the most vulnerable of our society as we seek a way forward. They must remain an important part of our “equation.”
Out of love for our neighbors, some freedoms and prosperity might need to be given up freely; not out of obligation but in love, at least for a time. There is no other way forward if we want to walk with Christ. Loving your neighbor cannot be based solely on death counts or the perceived liabilities of “others.” Who rightly judges who is “weak” and without worth? That’s the way of that past in Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union.
Tough economic decisions can’t be based solely on fear of the virus nor fear about where our daily bread will come from. We can and must do better. Jesus said, “…But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous” (Luke 14:13-14). If you hope to someday celebrate an economic recovery, you might just want to invite these folks as well.
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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