Tag Archives: Jesus

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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Still Risen

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash. Used by permission.

You can listen to a podcast version of this post on anchor.fm, season 1, episode 16.

As we move further into spring after Easter each year, we ponder the earliest stories of the Church. We see Peter grow from a struggling fisherman to a skillful shepherd. We meet Stephen, the first martyr, and encounter a new Apostle, at first a persecutor of the Church and now surprisingly called to serve the gentiles. His name will be changed from Saul to Paul; reflecting the change in his heart and understanding. We learn of resurrections of the dead such as Tabitha (raised through Peter’s faith) and Eutychus (raised through Paul’s faith). Such events don’t become a norm, but these miraculous healings, exorcisms, and resurrections serve as a sign of the truth to what God has done through his only Son, Jesus. In all these things, people will not only come to believe, but they will also continue to grow in belief as they maintain their walk with Jesus.

The liturgical season of Easter is only fifty days, lasting through Pentecost (on June 5th this year), but the impact of the resurrection is eternal. The story is not over, for it continues to be spoken by God in and through our lives. We find that we aren’t so different than those who came to believe so long ago. We face disease, war, poverty, and all kind of sin as they did. We struggle to believe at times just like them. And yet through it all, at any time, Jesus can appear to us. His words remembered can strengthen us. We encounter him in the Word heard preached and our participation in the Sacraments. We can meet the Risen Christ through those who need us, and those we need. Even in the face of those whom we don’t like, Jesus might be staring into our eyes asking forgiveness. Jesus is risen. His resurrection speaks to us of a present and future with him.

As school ends and summer begins, as Easter turns into the Season after Pentecost, we will be likely traveling more and having more opportunities for fun. Yet as you rightly enjoy these things, I encourage all of us to look for Jesus wherever we might be and whatever our circumstances. Remember the assembly and your call to service. Consider how work, sport, and all your activities, even rest, might serve the Risen Christ and proclaim his glory. Faith is not just for a season. It leads to life itself. Jesus is and remains risen so that people may experience abundant and eternal life in him.

Originally published in the May 2022 newsletter of Christ Lutheran Church, Fredericksburg, Virginia.

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

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Death is in the air

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The following is a sermon preached at Christ Lutheran on the Fifth Sunday of Lent, April 3, 2022. You can listen to the audio of the text here (recorded at the 9 am worship service) or watch the video from the 11 am worship service posted below. Photo credit: Pascal Meier on Unsplash; licensed under CC0 as found at WorkingPreacher.org.



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

        When we think about this passage…if I were to ask you as I did our weekly Bible study group what stands out to you…it is likely that two answers would emerge: 1) the selfishness of Judas; and 2) the lavish generosity of Mary. In the same room…facing the same future possibilities…there’s a clear tension here between Judas who is false and Mary who is true. And within that tension, we have a scene also pointing us forward. Mary’s washing of Jesus’ feet foreshadows the time when Jesus will wash his disciples’ feet in loving service. Judas’ desire for money prefigures the time when he will betray his friend for thirty pieces of silver. And in this situation, we are also reminded of our own.

        Yes, John shares this scene with us…not just to report history…but to help us wrestle with our present and future. We are in that very room in a sense to stare down death with Jesus. In the face of current or upcoming hardship, struggle, or loss – and in life we experience all these things for we cannot avoid them – will we choose the extravagance, pleasure, effusiveness, and exuberance of Mary’s choice, as one pastor[i] calls it, or will we be overly concerned with self-preservation, practicality, and getting what we think we deserve? Will we echo Mary’s loving actions in our life, or will we choose Judas’ path? What will be our legacy? Each and every day, if not moment, we must choose between death and life…selfishness and generosity…isolation (with its me first attitudes) or community (loving God and neighbor as oneself).

        If life were a dinner party, it certainly would be like the room we enter through this story today. You see, the stench of death is in the air of that room, just as it lingers and taunts us in our lives. Remember, Jesus has announced he would be entering Jerusalem even though he knows he will die. Much as Thomas verbalizes elsewhere, Jesus followers expect to perhaps die with him. At the best, they know whatever comes will likely hurt. Lazarus, who was only recently raised from the dead was there eating with them. His presence is a consistent reminder of death. Judas is a prime mover in today’s passage. For the early Christians who heard this passage just as we have, they know what he will soon do. He is a betrayer and false friend. His actions no matter how one might rationalize them or try to understand them helps lead to only one outcome…Jesus’ crucifixion…and perhaps Judas might remind us of people who have been false to us…or how we have been false to others. And the smell of that perfume – oh, that perfume – one used commonly for preparing the one you love for burial…it lingers thickly, perhaps suffocatingly, in the air. Some dinner party! If you have ever said a final goodbye to someone you love, you know a bit of what it was like to be in that room.

         Now, I know I likely have a different intimacy with death than some of you. (And, I don’t share this to shock you, but it helps explain my point of view.) I first encountered death in kindergarten. Death was part of the daily reality of my military and police service – potential death and actual death as when a police colleague of mine was violently slain – and in total, in and out of police work, I have had four people – four people – I know and love who have been murdered. I later served as a hospital and hospice chaplain accompanying people as they died. In doing so, they have become part of me, because I came to love them. In my missionary work among Native youth, I had children die…children die…long before what should have been their time. Yet, despite all this experience with death, I do nit and will not claim any comfort with death. (It is always uncomfortable and painful, no matter how hard we might try to hide it.) I don’t claim to understand all about it. (No one can.) Still, I do seek to accept a Lenten, hopeful, realism about it. (Yes, it can be hopeful.) “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

        With that in mind, let me explain further. I recall an older friend who was immensely popular in his region; loved and respected for his work, generosity, and loyalty. He was a steadfast friend and loving person, so as people were sick or entered the hospital, he would surely go visit and offer support. And if they were to die, he would be there to grieve, but also to honor the love shared with his friend by seeking to extend that love to the friend’s family and other mourners assembled. Yet as he aged, and more and more friends died – and he had so many – he felt like he was always going to funerals. It was rightly depressing. And one day he asked me about it. It seemed sort of unfair…hard to escape. Why does God allow so much pain in the world? Why does the smell of death linger so?

        I don’t know in detail the answer to his question, but I did point to Jesus. He humbled himself to share in our life and our death. He suffered for our sake, so that we could live eternally. He chose to love in the face of misunderstanding, rejection, and outright hatred for our sake. Whatever the cost, even death, Jesus chose to love everyone. And in accepting his death on the cross, he knew that it could only lead toward more light and love than we could ever dare hope for.

        Somehow, mysteriously, God has a plan to restore us from our fallen, sinful, selfish nature, into the children of God. Part of that plan is for us to follow Jesus in faith…into and through death…accepting our own sacrificial crosses on the way…and in the manner we choose to love God and others…in the way we pray and live…“Father, not my will, but your will be done.”

        No, we aren’t ever to accept death any more than Jesus does. We don’t seek to accommodate it. And we certainly don’t ignore it…Death is in the room…but as Christians, we choose to resist and fight death. Now, we don’t do so by clinging to life (selfishly, desperately holding on). Instead, we choose to surrender our lives. We offer our lives – our body, mind and soul and all that we have – because death has absolutely no real and lasting power over us. We can always choose to love. There is a grief author (Megan Devine) that observes: “When we choose to love, we chose to face death and grief and loss, again and again and again. Just as much as we welcome the friendlier parts of love, it’s all there, present and contained in everything.”

        Yes, Jesus says there will always be poor with us, but we are to choose to share what we have with them anyway. There will always be war until Jesus comes again, but we are asked to seek and nurture peace instead. There will always be disease, but we are charged by Jesus to comfort the sick and dying. We are to do so because even with the smell of death persistent in our nostrils…death is not the only thing in the room. Jesus is there too…the one who has conquered sin and death through his resurrection and who will not rest until sin and death is utterly destroyed…trampled underoot…gone from our lives forever.

        As the disciples gathered, they had every right to be sad. Jesus had made it clear that they were about to face some very difficult days ahead…just like us. (We cannot avoid this condition, try as we may.) Thus, let us find courage as we remember that in the face of death, God has chosen to gift us with life. We bathe in the grace of baptism where it is God  – not the pastor – who baptizes us and claims us forever. We eat of it at the Lord’s Supper, where again we truly encounter the very real body and blood of Jesus along with forgiveness of sin and promise of eternal love and life. We meet and interact with Jesus as we gather as one body…in the best of times and worst of times, never alone…for Jesus promises to be with us whenever two or three gather in his name. More than that, he promises to be always with us with his ever-present Spirit finding a home in our hearts.

        Graciously, we walk wet through the power of our baptism[ii] – claimed, empowered, and loved by God – throughout our life and beyond our death. For as Luther wrote, baptism is that “which delivers us from the jaws of the devil and makes us God’s own, suppresses and takes away sin, and then daily strengthens” us. Baptism remains always efficacious to us, for even if we were to fall away, Jesus loves those entrusted to his care. He will constantly seek us out. Baptism empowers us to love in the face of death, because it along with the Lord’s Supper gives us the grace which we need to help us daily choose to love as God loves us. These Sacraments change us and our experience with death. For nothing, not even death has the power to separate us from a love like Jesus has for us. In Jesus, God remains extravagantly, lavishly, effusively generous to us.

        Yes, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” Yes, the stench of death is in the room, and it seeks to accost our sensibilities and frighten us. Lent reminds us of this. And yet, that is not everything we are to remember…We are to remember Jesus…I think Professor Powery of Messiah College summarizes this passage and the daily choice before us well. “John 12 is a reminder that death will not have the final word. Lazarus is a reminder of that promise, even though his human body will die again. The ointment is a reminder of that promise. The people who gathered for another meal are a reminder of that promise. The prepared, anointed body of Jesus, of course, is the ultimate reminder of that promise. Death will not have the final word. During the season of Lent, we remember that death will not have the final word.”[iii] Amen.

The recorded 11 am worship service can be found below. The service starts at about the 7:30 minute mark…


[i] Skinner, M. (March 21, 2010), Commentary on John 12:1-8. Downloaded from https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/fifth-sunday-in-lent-3/commentary-on-john-121-8  on April 1, 2022.

[ii] Bishop James Mauney of the Virginia Synod used to often preach about the ongoing power of our baptism by proclaiming that we “walk wet.”

[iii] Powery, E. (April 3, 2022). Commentary on John 12:1-8. Downloaded from https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/fifth-sunday-in-lent-3/commentary-on-john-121-8-5  on April 1, 2022.

Many thanks to Professor Powery for his splendid essay on Working Preacher which very much served to inspire this sermon and me. Death is truly in the air, but it does not have the final word.

[iii] Powery, E. (April 3, 2022). Commentary on John 12:1-8. Downloaded from https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/fifth-sunday-in-lent-3/commentary-on-john-121-8-5  on April 1, 2022.

Many thanks to Professor Powery for his splendid essay on Working Preacher which very much served to inspire this sermon and me. Death is truly in the air, but it does not have the final word.

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

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



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Arising love

Image edited from a photo by Wolfgang Hasselmann on Unsplash

The audio version of this post can be found here.

What must it have been like for those first disciples? Facing defeat, struggling to accept that Jesus had been crucified, feeling exhausted, frightened and alone, they must have been devastated and in shock. Yet, the story doesn’t end there. Despite the threat of arrest or even attack, some came to the tomb to care for the body of Jesus. (In those days, families and friends directly cared for the burial of loved ones.)

Death could not stop their love for Jesus. And lo and behold, they were met by an angelic being who asked, “Why are you looking for the living among the dead?” On this Resurrection Morning, everything had changed. Sin and death had been defeated, and a new life was now possible thanks to Jesus. The Kingdom of Heaven had broken into the real world like a spring tulip or shaft of wheat might break through the ground. We still can only see the first signs, but once Jesus rose, there was no going back. “He *is* risen!” we shout. Jesus lives and remains lovingly at work in the world, even as he awaits the day when he comes again in glory.

So perhaps instead of focusing too much on what is bad with the world or our individual lives, we can use our time to look for Jesus among the living: as we seek to serve refugees, feed  our hungry neighbors, care for the homeless, volunteer with friends at local nonprofits, watch and wait with others in medical centers or prisons, share in sabbath rest or fellowship together, even as we might pray for peace in our world. In all things, we can look for the Risen Christ and make him known. As Paul advised long ago in the face of persecution, “…whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” (See Phil. 4:1-9)

No, Jesus is not among the dead. Nor is Jesus lounging in some remote heaven far above and away from us. Jesus might seem hidden at times, but he promises that he is with us always – in those we need and those who need us, and yes, in our hearts, too. Therefore, he’s ready to surprise us as he bursts into our lives, much as he busted out of that cave-like tomb. Like the first disciples, we will probably be surprised. Whatever is happening in your life – good, bad, or indifferent – rejoice and be glad, for Jesus has risen for you…is risen for you. Death cannot stop his love for us, and it never will. “Love is come again like wheat arising green.” (1)

Blessed Holy Week and Easter,

Pastor Lou

(1) Now the Green Blade Rises – Evangelical Worship, Hymn #379

Originally published in the April 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.

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

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Sleep well, dear Church

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Image by Cdd20 on Pixaby. Used by permission.

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

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The Magnificat & Me

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

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

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

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

Yes…yes, it does.

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What have you to do with me, Jesus?

  • Second Sunday after Pentecost, Year C
  • Texts: Isaiah 65:1-9; Galatians 3:23-29; Luke 8:26-39
  • Pastor Lou Florio – June 23, 2019

Evil…There is something about evil in the world that frightens us. And yet, it can simultaneously have the power to entice us…to draw us in. Slowly but surely, if we don’t reject and repent from the evil of the world around us, it can seem to become part of us…It can in a way consume us. In just about every culture of our world, faith traditions try to warn us. “Stay back from evil! Turn away! Repent! Focus on the goodness and promise of this life, or else we risk becoming possessed by the evil we fear.” Our lives can indeed become consumed by the tempting evil around us and the sin at work within us. Life itself can become a kind of nightmare.

Now certainly, we might not always recognize many of our struggles as demonic spirits at work like our ancient forbearers tended to do. Yet after so much time spent as a missionary among Native Americans who see the world in grand, interactive spiritual terms, I can’t say there isn’t a spiritual element to many of our problems. It is indeed the same worldview of the Gospels, and I’ve seen and experienced too much. The many twelve step groups that deal with varied addictions (and have been used by God to help so many) assert this as well. Much of our foibles and sin at some level grow out of an unanswered spiritual hunger or emptiness within us. Yet rather than turning to God, we tend to seek our own way, and that’s when we risk getting lost.

And so, as we approach today’s Gospel story, I would implore us to keep an open mind. We moderns like our demons in movies, not in life. Yet, I would argue we all have demons we deal with at some level. And there certainly seems to be powerful, explicit evil force at work in the world if not our lives as we struggle with sin, death and the Devil each day.

Therefore, however it happened, I feel deep compassion for this man calling himself Legion. I wonder how he got to live naked and alone among the tombs of Gerasene. Did he give in to temptation one too many times? Or perhaps beaten up by the world, did he withdraw from reality and loose himself on the way? Or, he could have even dabbled in magic or other black arts while trying to control the world around him…evil making itself slowly at home in his mind and his heart over time?

We don’t know the answers to how he got to be seemingly consumed by evil. We don’t have his history, but we do know that the path of sin leaves wreckage in our wake: broken relationships, isolation, a loss of our identity as beloved children of God. Sin, our sin and the sin and evil we encounter systemically in the world, has the power to destroy us and all we hold dear. This, to me, is perhaps the scariest part of the story: I fear the deep pain growing in his heart as he began to hate the world around him, our shared life, and most likely even himself.

Yes, this demon possessed man might have forgotten who he was intended to be, but Jesus didn’t. As part of the Triune God and the promised Messiah, Jesus’s actions will embody the Good News as well as fulfill the words of the prophets of old. Jesus will get into a boat to cross the sea of Galilee. It almost seems like a whimsical decision. “Let us go across to the other side of the lake,” Jesus says. And so, they put out. And on that trip, they face death in a storm that Jesus will calm – as only a god could do.

Then, he next arrives in a land occupied by outsiders to their faith, the gentile Gerasenes. Here, he will show his power over the spiritual realm. Right away, he is met by a man who lives among the dead; who claims the name Legion. (This term, recall, is a military unit of 6,000 Roman soldiers and thus perhaps an indication of the many demons hidden but at work inside him). The man cries out at the top of his voice (in Greek the words indicate a deep, guttural, almost painful cry), “What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God?” (“What business do we have in common?” is another translation.) Why do you care for or bother to come to me?

Jesus lives his answer. He has come to defeat sin, death and the Devil…to trample it underfoot as one of our communion prayers reads. He has come to call the lost, save the sinner, offer mercy and abundant, eternal life to all those that suffer in mind, body or spirit. He will even die for all, so that we might live forever with him. Jesus embodies the promise of Isaiah, the very attributes of God, as he reveals himself to those who did not ask for him and will be found by those who did not look for him (see Isa. 65:1).

Jesus will save this man with amazing grace. He will send that man – now healed and whole – back to his home to share the good news of what God has done for him…to share his faith in Jesus. Jesus loved this man, and he has crossed the waters to save him. Nothing else is reported from this trip, only this one story. It seems as if Jesus has come only for him…loved him as if he were the only one because that man needed Jesus.

Certainly, this is an ancient story with an ancient worldview, but it remains a story that plays out in our modern lives. Jesus comes for us who are broken hearted, who hate how we behave, who are lonely, who struggle valuing ourselves and the life that we have been given…a sometimes very difficult life. Think of whatever the deepest most hidden sin you struggle with, or consider your greatest fear, and then ask Jesus, “What business do you have with me? Why should you even care?” The answer remains the same, “I wish to share everything I have with you, because I love you.”

So here he is, Immanuel (God with us)…Jesus…reaching out to us, but too often, we are afraid to believe…afraid to trust him. We doubt the power of his cross to make a difference in our lives. “It is too good to be true,” we might say. “My sin is too big to be forgiven.” “I am unlovable and worthless.” To be honest, as a human in need of saving, I’ve heard these phrases in different forms whispered in my own mind at times. Also time and again, as a missionary, chaplain and pastor, I have heard these fears shared by others using varied words. It seems part of our shared, earthly experience – our corrupted spiritual DNA perhaps. These lies (and that’s what they are) tend to haunt us.

In response, always remember that Jesus speaks to us too: in our life among God’s faithful people; in hearing the Word and sharing the Lord’s Supper; in our proclaiming the Good News of Christ through word and deed; as we serve all people following the example of Jesus and strive for God’s justice and peace…Yes, in faithfully living our promises of baptism, we, too, are blessed and healed while evil is sent running away.

Jesus uses these lived promises to perform miracles. He draws us away from the powers of this fallen world and closer to himself. I know it can remain scary to leave what we know (even sometimes the pain of sin itself) in order to embrace this new life in Christ, but Jesus has come far to lead us home. Believe in him, hold on to his promises, and do not be afraid, for we are about to witness miracles beyond our wildest dreams. Amen.

Photo credit: sl3p3r on pixabay.com

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

© 2019 The Rev. Louis Florio. All content not held under another’s copyright may not be used without permission of the author.

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Jolt of Beauty

As I came to work, it was a dreary, cold, gray day. As I left to go home, the sun was out, birds were singing, and a large, pink flowering tree had suddenly exploded in vibrant color across from Christ Lutheran’s parking lot. This immediately captured all my attention. What had happened? It all seemed like Disney magic in its colorful perfection. Spring had finally arrived! (At least, nature said so.) What was once old and tired had become a new and exciting day.

Now, I realize that this wasn’t magic – the Disney kind or otherwise – but it was a kind of miracle. Throughout the winter months, the trees have been dormant. Their metabolisms, energy consumption, and growth all slowed, but they continued on. Life was waiting to burst forth anew.

As humans, we might experience similar dormant periods in our spiritual lives. Joy seems far away. Love might feel a bit colder. We can grow tired or our struggles; all the storms of life. Yet, God’s still at work. Through our faith and baptism, the Risen Christ is with us and the Spirit active. Life is waiting to burst forth in us. We only need to wait in trust, and much like springtime, abundant life surprises us when the time is right. We can never force it.

Ultimately, new life in Christ isn’t about our feelings. And certainly, winters of all sorts can fall over our lives at any time. Nevertheless, the fire of Christ always burns with love for us. He’s present within our hearts even when we forget him or our attention wanders elsewhere. Jesus always loves us, and sometimes we are blessed to notice.

With the paschal mystery before us, we remember Christ’s rising from the dead with shouts, “Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!” Yet, he is crying out to us as well. “You are loved! You are mine! You are worth dying and rising for!” The resurrection surprises us with a sudden jolt of beauty. Easter arrives to awaken us to just how much God loves us even when we might not love God. Whomever we are, God desires to bring our souls back to life. Come and walk with us this Easter. Let’s see how God surprises us all…

Originally published in the April 2019 newsletter of Christ Lutheran Church, Fredericksburg, VA.

© 2019 The Rev. Louis Florio. All content not held under another’s copyright may not be used without permission of the author.

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Tangled Branches

The Hub, March 20, 2019

Recently, I came across a piece of art called “Majesty,” by Tacita Dean. Inspired by one of the oldest, most massive, twisted, complete oaks in the United Kingdom, the tree has certainly witnessed much history and has become a symbol of the community. Using an enlarged black and white photograph of the tree split over four overlapping fiber-based papers, the artist used white gouache to painstakingly make every twig on every branch uniquely visible. In person, this reveals the intricate lacework of that ancient yet still living tree.

As we travel through Lent, we are encouraged to use varied disciplines to examine the lacework of our lives. Thus, we gather for Wednesday night worship in community. We will reflect upon some fruits of our faith: grace, mercy, justice, righteousness, wisdom, hospitality, and service.  Despite our being battered by all the elements of life, even sin, life remains. And so, each week, we are adding simple bands of varied colored clothe to a symbolic tree of life. This dead tree will grow and change, and we will begin to note our beautiful interconnectedness to every twig and branch of the Church, as well as to the one called Jesus. As Lent ends, we will remember yet another tree – how Jesus rode on in majesty only to be hung on a cross for our sake. As Isiaiah proclaimed, “See, the former things have come to pass, and new things I now declare; before they spring forth, I tell you of them” (Isa. 42:9). It is Christ’s love that connects us forever and even now brings forth new life.

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

© 2019 The Rev. Louis Florio. All content not held under another’s copyright may not be used without permission of the author.

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Amidst Our Mess

The Hub, Mar. 6, 2019

Some memorable items displayed in my new office.

Recently, I faced an ugly reality…my old office. After eleven years, it was time to pack up and move to Christ Lutheran. With the help of my wife, Kristine, we went to work. It took more than a day, but in the end, my things were packed, and the office clean again. I found there was plenty of dust and trash tucked away in unexpected places. Over time without really recognizing it, my workspace had become disordered. Yet, how pleasing it was to find amidst the dirt and grime small treasures that sparked many happy memories.

There are times in our lives that we need to set things straight. Liturgically, the Church offers us Lent. Many Christians give up certain foods or other pleasures as a discipline to help them recall the pain of sin and Christ’s own sacrifice. Others meet with their pastors to confess their struggle with sin and discern ways to make amends. Still others recommit to extra scripture studies, worship, or acts of mercy, charity and generosity. As the clutter clears, we might remember Jesus’ love more and see our lives in a new way.

Through the season of Lent, we reconnect to Gospel joy. Brother Roger of Taizé called Lent “forty days granted us in which to marvel at a love too great for words.” We participate in Lent not to become perfect, not to revel in our darkness with long faces, but to reconnect to a love longing to spark a springtime in our lives. Amidst our mess, we are offered new life through Jesus.

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

© 2019 The Rev. Louis Florio. All content not held under another’s copyright may not be used without permission of the author.

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