Tag Archives: sermon

January 3, 2024 · 6:18 pm

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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March 2, 2023 · 9:48 pm

Forgiveness is complicated

Joseph Chaumet, detail of Via Vita, 1894-1904. Sculpture, Musée eucharistique du Hiéron, Paray-le-Monial, France.

This sermon on Matthew 18:15-35 was preached at Christ Lutheran Church (Fredericksburg, VA) on the First Sunday in Lent, February, 26, 2023.You can also find a recording of this post at my 2 Penny Blog Podcast.

We just listened to a bit of the fourth of five great discourses made by Jesus as recorded in Matthew’s Gospel. Just as the Books of Moses came in five – called the Pentateuch, the first five books of the Hebrew scriptures – Jesus’ teachings come in five primary installments as Matthew tells the story. Again, this, Matthew hopes, will help people identify Jesus as the Messiah…a figure similar too but greater than Moses, as Jesus is no ordinary prophet. Matthew wants us to see that Jesus is truly the Son of God.

This discourse (our teaching segment today) is often called the Discourse on the Church, for it anticipates the shared life and ministry of the future community we now call “Church.” As humans that form the Church, we live within human relationship and mutuality, bound by the Holy Spirit. Still, some people among us will struggle with vanity, selfishness, or lose their way. There will be a need to call people to correction, but just as with the Old Testament, we will hear Jesus speak of justice wrapped within mercy and grace as well. Humility, self-sacrifice, and love, Jesus teaches, are the virtues that will bind this new community together and help it thrive.

Among the many difficult dynamics that come with human relationship, among the most complicated of topics that Jesus addresses, remains the gift of forgiveness. And indeed, forgiveness is a gift at its heart. After all, Jesus died for the forgiveness of our sins before we even asked…Before we were even born, Jesus responded to our need. Our salvation is pure gift, and with his cross and resurrection, Jesus died for all our sin: the sin that’s always part of us as human, fallen creatures; the sins we have done; and the sins we have yet to do. As John writes in one of his letters (1 John 4), “In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins.” He argues that we love because God loves us first. Thus, through Jesus’ own example and teaching, we should understand that we also forgive because God forgave us first. Yet, we aren’t Jesus. We can struggle mightily with forgiveness.

When we are hurt deeply, we can tend to cling to our anger and pain. We can become too focused upon it. We can get stuck and ruminate on our wounds. Now, anger itself isn’t sin. Jesus who never sinned got angry at times, but we are cautioned in scripture to avoid sinning in our anger (Eph. 4:26). So, as we focus on the sin we see as perpetrated against us, we might feel justified anger, but we can also slip into sin. We aren’t Jesus. Normal humans can tend to hold onto grudges and even nurse them. Then like a disease, those human, sinful feelings can begin to seep out of our wounds, misshaping our choices along with our view of others and our world.

There’s an old saying, “hurt people hurt people,” and although it is simplistic, I find it often profoundly true. Looking at criminal offenders or people in our family who perhaps don’t love us like they should, we often find their behaviors might not be able to be explained away, but we can often see that their own lives lacked love, tenderness, and forgiveness. They themselves might have been abused or forgotten, and their hurtful choices often might reflect their desire to be significant, have their needs met, or act out like a small child. They might not know the words for their pain and longing. They might not even be aware they are in pain. That’s just what they know. Sadly, the examples they have seen of loving relationships are too often far from the love that Jesus teaches about and exemplifies. Of course, they can be bent inward upon themselves, selfish, as Luther says. The best humans can make bad choices when they have free choice.

In families, the sins of the parents can be revisited upon several generations until someone finally says enough is enough and seeks to return to God’s ways…or so says Deuteronomy 5. Yet, not everyone who grows up exposed to brokenness offends, and just because a parent struggled to love you doesn’t mean that God could not have taught you how to love in some other way. Again, there’s an element of free choice. God can send us people to love us in lieu of a family incapable of loving as they should. So, we should not be too quick to just say “turn the other cheek” or “forgive and forget.” I am not suggesting wrong should be explained away. For our safety, for the safety of others, and even for the protection of the person we are mad at, erasing any error might cause more harm than good. Consequences can sometimes protect people or help teach people to do better.

Some of you have heard my story of a women I met as an officer while on a domestic dispute. She had faced many years of emotional and physical violence, and this night, she had been injured. Her spouse hit her so hard that her cheek was swollen up like a grapefruit. When I suggested to her that she might need to put up some protective boundaries between her and her husband, she ironically said with her swollen face in tears, “But Jesus told us to turn the other cheek.” I had to explain to her that Jesus loved her too, and he likely wasn’t calling her to martyrdom (or more likely unnecessary victimhood) at the hands or her husband. Jesus loved her too, and sometimes when situations are toxic or dangerous enough, it might be best to turn the other cheek and walk away.[i] This doesn’t mean we stop loving them, or praying for their welfare, or caring. It might just be a humble recognition that we aren’t the one’s called to save them from themselves…In such cases, we might need to love ourselves as much as we say we love them. After all, Jesus said the law and the prophets was summarized in our loving God with all that we are and loving others as ourselves…not better than ourselves.

Yes, forgiveness is complicated. Wounds can run deep and last long. A man once told me that he used to get in terrible fights with his wife. Yet it wasn’t the physical wounds that bothered him. Those scars can heal. He wouldn’t think of those physical incidents unless he stopped to look at his scars. No, often for him, the wounds that come from ill chosen words, gossip, betrayal…emotional wounds…those can be the ones that last the longest. Those can be the hardest to forgive and heal. And yes, he is right. Forgiveness is hard. Jesus never said forgiveness would come quickly like someone turning off a light switch. We might need to try to forgive, and then try again, and again. We might find a place of peace only to have something remind us of past pain, and we need to forgive yet once again. It might take a lifetime to forgive, and we might never quite fully make it. Yet, we aren’t only asked to forgive for the sake of the offending party. In just trying to forgive, in our willingness to be open to it, forgiveness heals and frees us whether the other person benefits or not.

When we seek to forgive, it is not admitting what they did was ok. Counselors suggest, “By forgiving, we are making a conscious decision to let go of any resentment, vengeance, or anger that came from being hurt because we believe we will be better off not having those emotions and thoughts floating around inside us.”[ii] It is not about the person deserving forgiveness or changing their ways. It shouldn’t be that we want the person to suffer more before we forgive. Those are ultimately justice and trust issues, and as an Orthodox saint[iii] reminds us, if God was truly and only just, each of us would be in BIG trouble. As fallen humans, we ourselves can never be fully trusted, and we can never earn our salvation. In God, of necessity, justice comes with mercy. So again, modern counselors note, the person who hurt you might not deserve forgiveness…they might not be worthy of trust… “but that doesn’t mean you deserve to live with the resentment and bitterness.”[iv] Our ability to heal and move on requires forgiveness, so Jesus (who loves us and wants what is best for us) asks us to forgive. It might take a lifetime of trying, but in trying, in praying for our enemies, we will discover that we are always blessed…and sometimes reconciliation might yet come.  

How often should we forgive? Peter likely reflecting a the shared consensus of the Apostles suggested seven times. He was being stingy…better than many, but stingy. In context of this conversation, Jesus shares the parable of the Unforgiving Servant in response to Peter’s guess. The parable applies to Peter too, as much as it applies to us and to all. Jesus says we should forgive seventy-seven times (or in some texts seventy times seven times)…an eternity of times, because we have through faith forgiveness for eternity. Jesus is asking us, “Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?”

Ultimately, sin has the potential to harm communities including families. It can injure or murder the spirit of someone. We cannot take it lightly. Yet as professors like Dr. Kimberly Wagner of Princeton University point out, “just because sin has the potential for collective harm, doesn’t mean the sinner should be dealt with harshly. Instead, the text lays out a process that foregrounds compassion, strives to avoid shaming and embarrassment [as demanded in Deuteronomy by the way], and ultimately seeks restoration.” This “is a procedure that insists that the spiritual and relational wellbeing of each person is something worth fighting for and restoration to community is worth our time and energy.”[v]

Yes, we are asked to recognize the consequences of sin, but we are also asked to see the humanity in one another…including our vulnerability and need. We all need forgiveness. Grounded in God’s grace, seeking to love others as ourselves, praying for our enemies even as we ask help in forgiving, or as we ask for the wisdom to know what we need to repent from and set aright…trust that justice will come from God eventually, but the blessings that flow from forgiveness can be ours right now. Amen.

[i] Hemfelt, R., Minirth, F., & Meier, P. (2003). Love Is a Choice: The Definitive Book on Letting Go of Unhealthy Relationships. Nashville: Thomas Nelson Publishers.

[ii] See https://www.emerycounseling.com/3-reasons-why-people-dont-forgive

[iii] Isaac the Syrian or of Nineveh (613-c. 700 AD)

[iv] Ibid.

[v] Wagner, K. (2023). Commentary on Matthew 18:15-35 at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/narrative-lectionary/forgiveness/commentary-on-matthew-1815-35-3

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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February 26, 2023 · 7:46 pm

Seeing things in a new way

Raphael’s Transfiguration (1516-1520), Oil tempera on wood. Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

This sermon was preached at Christ Lutheran Church (Fredericksburg, VA) on Transfiguration Sunday, February, 19, 2023.You can also find a recording of this post at my 2 Penny Blog Podcast.

Some of you might have read the story by Antoine De Saint-Exupéry called The Little Prince.[i] If you haven’t, you might have at least heard of the title. After eighty years in print, it is still considered a masterpiece for its exploration of the themes of loneliness and love, loss and friendship. It is said to reflect the ever-changing nature of life, and thus it resonates with many.

The narrator begins weaving this tale by pointing out something important. Grown-ups often struggle to identify important things as they truly are (or perhaps can be) even when the truth lies right in front of them. As the story unfolds, we learn of a young prince visiting various planets in space, including Earth. It is a fanciful story in many ways, perhaps seeming obtuse to some, but there is much wisdom to be found.

On one stop of the recorded adventures, the Little Prince visits a small world with a great king…at least he tries to be great. The King is the first grownup the little prince meets, and the King exemplifies the often-foolish desire of grownups to be obeyed. This need in the King is so great that he will revise his orders endlessly just so that it seems like he is always being obeyed by everyone and everything. In trying to prove his authority and benevolence, the King offers the Little Prince the role of Minister of Justice, but the Little Prince rightly notes that there’s no one else on the empty planet to judge. And here, unwittingly, and ironically, the King speaks a great truth. He says, “It is much more difficult to judge oneself than to judge others. If you succeed in judging yourself rightly, then you are indeed a man of true wisdom.”[ii]

Sadly, the King does not judge himself rightly at all. He’s delusional in his feelings of import and power. And yet, there’s a little bit of the King in all of us as humans. We can become puffed up, lording over others, as Paul warns against in his letter to the church in Corinth.

Yet perhaps more often for many of us, we can also tend to underestimate our significance… a significance that is based on God’s great love for us. Each one of us with all our liabilities…with all the sin we struggle with…is invited to be part of the coming Kingdom…not just that, but heirs to Christ himself. That is partly why chrismation – the mark of the sign of Christ’s cross (traditionally using olive oil) – is used as part of the baptismal ritual. You are being anointed and dedicated to a special purpose, as the pastor proclaims, “Child of God, you have been sealed by the Holy Spirit and marked with cross of Christ forever.” You might look the same. You might feel the same…but what the Church is trying to tell you in the name of Jesus is that you are not the same. You are part of God’s plan in a special, more intimate way now. In fact, God promises to be with you through the power of the Holy Spirit every step of your way.

Yet, we aren’t the first ones to ever underestimate ourselves. The early Church did too. When Matthew shared this story of the Transfiguration in his Gospel, it was likely sometime between 80-90 AD. Think about what was going on by then. The first Christians who were Jews initially expected to continue worshipping in the Synagogue if not the Temple. After all, Jesus came to fulfil the law and prophets, not destroy them. Yet against expectations, even though Jesus shared warnings, they found themselves thrown out of synagogue communities and often persecuted.

As for the Kingdom of Judah and its capital Jerusalem, the Romans had grown tired of its rebellious ways. The Romans had crushed the nation, destroyed the Temple, and carted off its treasures in 70 AD. A great diaspora began as Jews were forced to leave their homeland and only a few remained. By the time of Mark’s Gospel, faithful people were asking, “What was God doing?” If not doing, what was God allowing? Many felt confused if not powerless.

Yes, it seemed an apocalyptic time. You know what I mean, “Human sacrifice! Dogs and cats living together! Mass hysteria!”[iii] Ok, that’s a quote from Ghost Busters, but hopefully you are starting to catch my drift…Things were profoundly wrong, and many Christians were afraid and doubting. It seemed like the end of the world.

Rome was a threat. Jews who did not believe that Jesus was “bringing about the transition from the broken present age to the [Kingdom] of God” were a threat. Christians were even fighting one another over what should be done with the new gentile believers among them. How Jewish should the Church remain? My goodness, even the Temple, the sign of God’s presence among God’s chosen people was no more. It was not just the Temple rocked off its foundations by this, the Jewish people and the Church were too.

Here, Professor Ronald Allen (of the Christian Theological Seminary in Indianapolis) rightly points out, that Matthew writes the First Gospel “in part, because some in the congregation are losing confidence in the coming of the Realm. Some are drifting away. Matthew shapes the narrative of the first gospel to encourage them to remain faithful even in the midst of the fractiousness of their moment in history.”[iv] Matthew, for his part, “wants the community to interpret their struggles beyond and within the congregation as suffering on behalf of the” coming Kingdom. God will use, repurpose, and redeem their suffering![v] As Professor Allen also writes, “At the transfiguration, God gives the Matthean church a vision of the future: Jesus as he will be on the day God resurrects him and as he will be when he returns to complete the work of replacing the old world with the new.”[vi] That’s right…this will happen at the End of Time when Jesus comes again.

And for the modern Church…the afflicted Church amidst growing doubt…with people losing heart if not faith and sometimes wondering away…with threats from powers of this world all around us…this is where we also find ourselves. We are in “the in-between time” – Jesus risen and ascended, but not yet returned…the Kingdom broken into our world, but not in its fullness. Suffering happens. Death still happens. We are here awaiting the day when all tears will be wiped away.

Facing this reality, like the Matthean Church, we might ask God, “What are you thinking?” We might wonder even if being a Christian is worth it. Following Jesus can be scary. Yet in response, we hear God’s words speaking directly to us just as they did to the earliest, persecuted, suffering, doubting, struggling-with-sin Church that came before us, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!”…Trust in him.

God’s asking us to see what we are going through in a new way…to see ourselves in a new way…not with arrogance, but with spiritual maturity, bravery, and humility. It is much like what the Fox in the Little Prince tries to teach, “It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”[vii] It is the truth of the Gospel, such as when Thomas learns that he must stop doubting and believe as his hands touch Jesus’ wounded side, or when Paul boldly proclaims we must live by faith and not be sight. This is an eternal truth being revealed to us, that something more is going on in us, through us, and around us – thanks be to God – than we often comprehend.

We cannot always recognize God at work, that’s why Luther often calls God our “Hidden God.” We cannot often fully understand what’s really happening…how everything will work for our good…that’s why we are not ourselves called God. Yet, God promises to be with us, and to use us, and to free us. That, my friends, is God’s will…that will which Jesus taught us to pray for.

And so, there are powerful, transforming implications of the Transfiguration playing out every time we seek to love another in Christ’s name, or forgive, or when we ask to be forgiven, or when we must sacrifice or even suffer in faith. It is like that painting from Raphael of the Transfiguration.[viii] I shared it before our Monday Night Bible Study on our social media. In the painting, we see Jesus in his glory up above in the top panel, but juxtaposed to this, connected to this directly underneath, we see Matthew pointing to a scene of the Church. And there, we see disciples healing a demon possessed boy. The boy’s healing helps testify to Christ’s power displayed in the Transfiguration but also alive in and at work through Christ’s Church…in you and me…just waiting to be lived out if we only can hold on in faith.

With our adult eyes, surrounded by what we might be tempted to call reality, we might struggle to see things as they truly are and can be…see them as Jesus does. We have been chosen. We have been called for a time like this. Just as Jesus’ friends were told that they could not stay on the mountain top, we, too, have work to do. We must go down into those valleys because of the Shadow of Death that’s there.

I know it is easier up on the mountain – those times we see God more clearly, sense joy and love more fully, maybe even experience God’s peace. I’d love to keep the pain of life away, but that isn’t why Jesus came, nor is it why we were created and called. It is in following Jesus that Christ becomes our life, and we begin to share concretely in his glory. Often, this includes our own crosses.

Therefore, we must understand that nothing should stop us from following Jesus…not our stupid most embarrassing sins, nor “torments brought on by memories of a recent or distant past.”[ix] Much like low self-esteem or low confidence may cause us to hide ourselves away from social situations, cause us to stop trying new things, or avoid things that we find challenging[x]…a lack of faith can do the same.

Yet remember, we are promised that “the Holy Spirit comes to help us in our weakness.” No life that God created and called is meaningless no matter our education, abilities, our age, or station. For with every relationship…in every person we meet…others who suffer and doubt like we do…our lives and love might become a lifeline to hope…to Jesus himself…and that’s a miracle.

What miracles will you see this week? Child of God…not “Grownup of God”…Child of God…you are certainly going to be provided opportunities to see yourself and this world in new ways. Facing the enormity of the Little Prince’s grief at the loss of just one rose that he loved, feeling his own limitations, the narrator says, “It is such a secret place, the land of tears.”[xi] Through the Transfiguration, Jesus seeks to remind us that this land of tears, as secret and beyond comprehension as it might seem, is meant to become a sacred place…and will…as we watch, as we wait, as we seek to love and serve one another and our Lord.

Oh, yes, Jesus is coming back, but Child of God, don’t you see? Don’t you hear? Jesus is not missing in action…he’s alive through the faith, hope, and love that we dare to try to share as Church despite any odds. Children of God, let us judge ourselves rightly. There’s important work for all of us to do in Christ’s name. Wherever and whenever we find ourselves, no matter how bad things get, Christ is there too. As Jesus declared in the Beatitudes, we are blessed. Amen.

[i] The following edition was used as a resource for this sermon: Saint-Exupery, A. (2021 electronic edition; first edition 1943). Woods, K., translator. Italy: M.E. editions.

[ii] Ibid., p. 50-51

[iii] Ghost Busters (1984). Written by Aykroyd, D, Ramis, H., and Moranis, R.

[iv] Allen, R.J. (February 19, 2023). Commentary of Matthew 17:1-9. Downloaded from https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/transfiguration-of-our-lord/commentary-on-matthew-171-9-6 on February 16, 2023.

[v] Ibid.

[vi] Ibid.

[vii] Saint-Exupery, A. (2021), p.  85.

[viii] See this painting with citation at the head of this article.

[ix] Br. Roger of Taizé. (May 1995). Choose to Love. As downloaded at https://christian.net/pub/resources/text/taize/lt96gb.html

[x] National Health Services (u.d.). Raising Low Self-Esteem. United Kingdom: Crown. As downloaded at https://www.nhs.uk/mental-health/self-help/tips-and-support/raise-low-self-esteem/

[xi] Saint-Exupery, A. (2021), p.  35.

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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January 10, 2023 · 5:21 pm

Jesus was baptized for you

You can find a recording of this sermon on my blog’s companion podcast located here.

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

Today’s sermon is a little different. You see, I have been reminiscing a bit more than usual through the holidays and with the New Year. I think that’s not uncommon at such times. Then, the Facebook memories function went ahead and reminded me of a momentous day in my life. It is hard for me to believe, but as I reflected upon today’s text about Christ’s baptism, I remembered my own…60 years ago, this coming December 2023. Wow, it blows my mind that so much time has passed, and yet it remains one of the most profound and sometimes underappreciated events of my life in my busyness. Hopefully, your baptism is recognized for its profound and lasting impact, but I must confess that I sometimes don’t stop to remember the power of my own.

Now, I am not trying to suggest you remember the day in detail. Afterall, I certainly don’t. I was only 11 days old. Yet I do know the stories and people involved thanks to my family. For one thing, with baptism, I officially received my “Christian name.” That’s commonly called being “christened.” In Martin Luther’s time, one practice was to be named after the “saint of the day” on the liturgical calendar. So, Martin, born on November 10, is named after St. Martin of Tours, the saint remembered on Luther’s baptism day of November 11. As is a tradition among some Italian families, my dad was named after his maternal grandfather, Luigi Marini, and Luigi after his maternal grandfather before that. The name was ultimately in honor of a popularly venerated saint, Aloysius of Gonzaga (in Latin). He is more commonly called Luigi of Gonzaga in Italian. Born in the US, my dad’s name was Americanized, so you narrowly escaped having a Pastor Luigi standing before you today. Yet with my name, in my baptism, I was encouraged to represent myself well. For though it and my life, I represent the legeacy of my genetic family, my Christian family today and throoughout time, and Christ’s own name. I come to bear the name of Jesus Christ. That’s no small thing.

He Qi, “Baptism of Jesus.”

And thus, as I was baptized, I was also gifted two wonderful, loving godparents, ultimately what we often call sponsors today…to be with me at my baptism, to speak for me, and there, promise to love, help, and guide me (the best that they could) into a life of faith. (In the old days, there might even be an expectation of adoption if the parents died, but that’s not the case today.) Arthur Coughlin, my godfather, was a dear friend of my dad’s. He ultimately co-owned one of the most successful sporting goods stores in the Boston area, Holovak and Coughlin. Yet what he was most known for was his deep religious faith that one could see evident in the way he walked through daily life, in his long-lasting friendships, and perhaps most especially from his generosity. He and his business donated lots of money and time to those in need. And, he was among one of the first people to sense a special call by God in my life. I remember clearly the exact moment he asked me about this at my eldest sister’s wedding…He had seen me help at the service, and refelcting upon what he knew of me and my life, he asked, “Have you ever considered being a priest?” An important seed was planted. (And as Pastor Anne can tell you as a member of the Virginia Synod vocations team, that’s a thing we look for – not just an interior sense of call, but that someone sees something at work in you.) Meanwhile, my godmother, Anna Kendrick, was my mother’s cousin. She was never married but worked all her adult life with an accounting firm. Yet what stood out to me most, once again, was her love, grace, and piety. She humbly and efficiently cared for and loved her widowed mother, who was declining with an early onset of dementia. All the while Anna kept working, sacrificing, and keeping the extended family going. Through both people, I was gifted with their prayers, a willingness to love and support me, but perhaps most wonderfully, a witness to faith that went beyond words. They helped preach those sermons I could see.

So, now you know that I was baptized as an infant, and that leads to a third, likely most significant impact leading to many other countless ramifications…many I won’t likely ever recognize in this life…In baptism, I became a child of God in a special way. Through the Water (a sign) and the Word (the promise of God), my intimacy with God changed. Did you catch that nuance? All members of humanity are at some level created in love by God and loved by God as children. And explicitly according to scripture, Jesus came to call all people into relationship. Yet, we also know that there are some who respond to God’s call through faith more than others; while some not at all. Thus among the faithful, we hopefully seek to listen to and follow Jesus Christ. And one of his most important commands was made to his new Church as he prepared to ascend to heaven. As recorded (in Matthew 28:18-20), “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” In Mark 16, he goes so far to declare one who believes and is baptized will be saved (Mark 16:16a). And so today, the Sunday following Epiphany, as the Church sets out into another new year, we annually remember Jesus’ own example. We stop and ask, “Why is baptism so important that Jesus, born without sin, be baptized? Why should we be baptized? So, let’s gather at the river for a moment and take a closer look.  

As we heard during Advent and hopefully over the years, John was the greatest of all prophets according to Jesus. He had the special job of preparing the way. He called people into repentance, and he baptized them as a symbol of their new start. Yet he wasn’t the first to baptize. Baptism was already a ritual of the Hebrews. Each synagogue had ritual baths for people and items to help them fulfill Levitical and rabbinic laws and teachings. The Mikvah, or bath, was used and is still used by our Jewish siblings, for full immersion in water of people and things for ritual purification…the restoration to a condition of “ritual purity” in specific circumstances. I’ve read it was not called baptism per se, but it is like baptism. Also in John’s time, the Essenes, a mystic Jewish sect, lived out in the wilderness as they sought to separate themselves from the sin of the world. They shared a communal life. They committed to practice piety toward God and righteousness toward their neighbor. Many of the Essene groups appear to have even been celibate. They lived a spartan life, as John did, as a sign of their heart’s desire to repent. And as new members joined their community, they were invited to be immersed…to be baptized. Yes, John’s activity was firmly rooted in what came before and other practices around him…and yet…and yet…he pointed to something new. He pointed to Jesus and a new baptism. “I baptize you with water for repentance,” he cried, “but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me…He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.” And so, Jesus did come, and John resisted baptizing one he knew to be the Son of God, one without sin. “I need to be baptized by you,” John argued.

This is a critical passage. This is a major event. At some level, our baptism is meant to be a physical sign of a new covenant, a loving promise more than a contract, in a long line of increasingly intimate covenants. God has reached out over and over again to humanity, whereby now, we can be marked by the cross of Christ and sealed by his Holy Spirit through baptism forever. Indeed, God’s promise made to us at baptism is more important than any of those we make near a font, pool, or river. Using baptism, God is fulfilling an ancient promise made for the final age. It is found through the words of the prophets, such as Ezekiel (36:26), “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.” John knew that his baptism was for repentance, a symbol. With Christ, access to something new came…baptism of fire and Spirit.

No, our Christian baptism isn’t just a bath. It is not just about ritual purification or blessing. It isn’t just a symbol of new birth or entrance into a community. It is these things, BUT it is more than those things. Baptism as understood by the majority of Christians across the world…the vast majority today and throughout time…has been recognized as transforming. Baptism changes us. The Spirit claims us…grabs hold of us in love, and never wants to let us go. Throughout one’s life, the Spirit is at work. Sometimes easily seen, that work can be subtle as well. Luther used to say God seemed often hidden, yet God never stops working to call us more deeply into relationship…to make us holy…to save us. In baptism (as with the Lord’s Supper), we are promised that God touches us with grace in a most intense way. It is a means of grace…a way of grace to strengthen us on our way. It saves us as we become part of God’s most intimate family, the church. It saves us as the Spirit tries to protect, bless, and guide us each day. It will help save us as we appear before the throne of God to face judgement, not because we did something to earn salvation, but because in baptism, God has gifted us something which enfolds us more fully into Jesus’ own saving ministry… his own life, death, and resurrection. (See Romans 6:3-11 for example.)

In the early Church, baptism was thought so important, converts in biblical times would be baptized by household – fathers, mothers, grandparents, children, servants and yes, even slaves. As the church formalized, baptism became part of the worshipping community’s activities, often celebrated at the high feast of the Resurrection of our Lord, commonly called Easter. Throughout Lent if not longer, adult converts would be called catechumens and be prepared to receive the sacrament…to try to teach them about a mystery that no one can ever know enough about…a love so vast that no human mind or words can ever capture it. And so, because we can never know or do enough, there also remained the practice to baptizing infants among the faithful. For whom can ever know enough to earn God’s grace…do enough…no one can but Jesus is worthy. Thus, two or three (or more) gathered in Jesus’ name gathered (and continue to gather) at a river, pool, or font…turn to God and ask in faith for the Holy Spirit to be present in that infant’s life…not just that day…but forever. And it is Jesus himself who says that God will surely answer such prayers.

Yes, some who are baptized can wonder away. Not all the slaves baptized likely had any heart of faith. Even adults can think they are ready to commit to Christ but fall into grave sin after baptism. Yet the Church says, echoing promises of scripture, even then…even if you were to give up on God…God will not give up on you. God will never give up on you. I see that in my own life looking back. Despite my good start, the world was hard. You’ve heard some stories before today, and we don’t need to revisit them now. Just know that I wondered far. Trusting in God’s grace, I confess openly that I deeply hurt myself and others. Yet I can look back on my life and now see people, places, and events…even an interior stirring (or burning of the heart as Wesley and other saints have spoken about)…calling me back by name…inviting me into a living forgiveness… allowing me a new start each day…calling you, too.  

In Jesus’ baptism, we hear an affirmation of his sonship. We learn that the Spirit will affirm him, drive him forward, and sustain him. Jesus humbled himself. As Paul writes, he emptied himself by taking the nature of a servant. (See Phil. 2) Thus, his baptism teaches us of our own. As Professor John Yieh proclaims, “For Jesus and for Matthew, the righteousness of God is a gift from God that requires believers’ commitment to hunger and thirst for it (5:6, 10), to practice (5:20), to seek (6:33), and to bear its fruit (3:8; 21:43). In other words, Jesus is showing his followers how they should take seriously the ritual of baptism, the life of repentance, and the pursuit of righteousness as he did through his humble baptism by John in the Jordan, and in his whole life” (Workingpreacher.org, January 8, 2023).

As this new year begins, no matter what we have done or failed to do, no matter what questions we still have about our worthiness or purpose…in baptism, God has declared us loved and God’s own. Don’t give up, but seize the day…seize the gift being offered you…no matter how hard. For, God is not done with you yet. Or as Martin Luther puts it, even more forcefully: God, who cannot lie, has bound himself in a covenant with [us], not to count [our] sin against me, but to slay it, and blot it out’” forever. (Treatise on Baptism).

Whatever comes, seek to remember your baptism, for God remembers you. God has chosen to love us forever…And if you haven’t been baptized? In the name of Jesus Christ, we invite you to do so. For God loves you, too, child of God, and is calling you by name. Amen.

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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October 19, 2022 · 7:25 pm

Through the Tumult

Art: Crossing the Red Sea, by Gitty Fuchs. Learn more or purchase at https://www.gittyfuchs.com/

This sermon was preached on the Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost (October 2, 2022) at Christ Lutheran Church in Fredericksburg, VA. You can listen to this sermon at my podcast, 2 Penny Blog.

For unknown reasons, God chose Egypt to be a land intimately connected to our salvation history. For a few examples, consider that Egypt was the land that saved the family of Joseph from starvation. Years passed, and the extended family later grew into a numerous people who became viewed by a later Pharoah as a threat. As a result, they were enslaved. Out of Egypt, God would call what had become twelve disparate, squabbling tribes (descendants of Joseph and his eleven brothers) to become one people serving God but also intended to bless the world.

“Out of Egypt I called my son,” spoke Hosea for God. The people of Israel were the inheritors of God’s grace, God’s children. That’s how Hosea understood the story of the Exodus when he originally spoke the words that we heard quoted in Matthew’s Gospel. Yet, Egypt also becomes the place Jesus as a child would find safety with his family from Herod’s power. Jesus, God’s only true son, would be called later from Egypt to fulfill his purpose in a way Hosea likely could not have imagined.

You might also know that Mark the Evangelist would seek to build the Church in Egypt. He would become the first Bishop of Alexandria (Egypt). For a time, it was the most Christian nation in the world until Islam oppressed the church in that region and supplanted it. Yet no human, natural or supernatural powers can fully extinguish faith. Believers remain.

And perhaps most curious of all, one sees in today’s reading from the Book of Exodus how God used Egypt’s folly and sin to firmly establish God’s sovereignty before the people of Israel and all the earth. More than a mere rescue or miracle story, the story of the Red Sea’s parting is ultimately revealing God’s self and purpose.

This is an extremely ancient story. Although there is only one historic column found thus far in Egypt with hieroglyphics believed to be identifying the people of Israel, scant other physical or extrabiblical, written testimony of the escape from Egypt remains. This should be no surprise, as Egyptian pharaohs tended only to preserve the history that lifted them up as gods and declared their power as supreme. Defeats and struggles were to be forgotten, as these didn’t fit their agenda.

The location of Yam Suph, or technically “the Reed Sea,” might lead us to consider the crossing in the north. This is where marshy waters of the Red Sea basin historically existed. Yet, tradition only indicates the crossing was through what we know today as the Red Sea. It does not indicate exactly where the Israelites traveled. Some scientists have tried to explain the waters parting through the impacts of wind. Perhaps it was a miracle not so unlike the reverse storm surge seen with Hurricane Ian. In this historic case, what is called a wind setdown is suspected. With a wind setdown, strong winds — a little over 60 miles per hour — create a ‘push’ on coastal water which, in one location, creates a storm surge. But in the location from which the wind pushes — in this case, the east — the water moves away.”[i] Other ideas have been suggested.  

Yet when all is said and done, we have this inherited story lasting thousands of generations, a story that shapes the identity of the Jewish people and our own. For the events did not just happen for the sake of those present on that shore long ago. As noted elsewhere, “The story of the stunning triumph of Yahweh over the great power of Egypt is told in order to summon Israel to faith.”[ii] It is a faith we have inherited and share. Trapped before the waters, the people cry to God in fear. They also attack Moses three times. “Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you have taken us away to die in the wilderness? What have you done to us, bringing us out of Egypt? Is this not the very thing we told you in Egypt…” (Exodus 14:11-12). And Moses replies three times, explicitly calling them to faith, “Do not be afraid, stand firm, and see the deliverance that the Lord will accomplish for you today…” (Exodus 14:13-14). Much as Joseph had a defender in God, Moses says the people who God chose to love will be defended. Moses shouts, “The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to keep still.” This understanding is echoed later in the Psalms and elsewhere when God says, “Be still and know (trust) that I am God.”

With the greatest army of the earth at the time descending upon them…facing the most developed armaments of war, the chariot, with basically no weapons…the people of Israel are asked only to be still…to trust in God. Even in the face of defeat, they are conquerors. Some scholars suggest that it is unlikely Saint Paul would have understood Jesus in the same way if not for this incredible scene.[iii] In Romans 8 (verse 37), he would declare, “No, in all these things [all the sufferings and tribulations of our lives] we are more than victorious through him who loved us.” (Or many translations say, we are more than conquerors.) Even facing our greatest losses, challenges, or defeats, when pushed up against raging seas of despair, we are conquerors because of God’s great love for us. God will do what we cannot…always. God will save. We will survive the tumult because our ultimate destination is assured. This has been decreed by God since before the time of Israel…promised us…and as I often quote and Luther often said, “God does not lie.”

Psalm 46 teaches us, “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore, we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging” (verses 1-3). The theological understanding behind these later words is the same reality of the Israelites cornered at the sea. It remains true for us as we are cornered by whatever threatens or demoralizes us. God is with us. God loves us. Watch, wait, and see for our deliverance – even when the face of death is near.

This is an amazing promise. It is perhaps even hard for us humans to believe, and yet stories like today’s challenge us to cling to God in faith like a life preserver.[iv] Be still before this awesome God who loves you…before this remarkable God who wills to save you. Trust, believe, and worship. Stop what you are doing, still your mind, “and acknowledge that God alone is the sovereign ruler of the universe and commit to following him”[v]…wherever God leads us.

Through our support and rescue, through the many Hurricane Ians, the wars like the one in Ukraine, the economic hardships of recent times…the daily loss and death before us…nothing will separate us from the love of God. Indeed, I don’t think my faith would be as strong if I had not come from a family with so many troubles, seen so much violence, or faced cancer. God will be glorified and his sovereignty be made known as he helps us through and saves us. Then as we praise and give God thanks (even when we can only do so with tears in our eyes), others will come to believe.

“Be still and remember who God is, be still and stop fearing, be still and see what God is doing, be still and acknowledge his greatness, be still and know God is with you…now spread the knowledge of who he is!”[vi] So counsels Christian blogger, Liz Auld. Be still doesn’t mean we no longer need to try. The Israelites still had to walk through those two imposing walls of water, didn’t they? It doesn’t mean things will be easy. It doesn’t release us from toil or tears. Again, the history of the Israelites exemplifies this. Yet, God’s faithfulness teaches us that we will be ok no matter what we face.

Do not fear. Stand firm. Trust and see. Everything that has already been done by God, has been done for you. Indeed, God gave his only Son to die for you. After so much effort, God won’t give up on you now, so don’t you give up. Keep walking in God’s love, for no empire, no principality, not even our own doubts or darkness will stop our God’s will to save us. Amen.

[i] Moony, C. (December 8, 2014). “No, really: There is a scientific explanation for the parting of the Red Sea in Exodus.” Washington Post. Washington, DC: Nash Holdings.

[ii] Keck, L.E. (2004). “Exodus 14:1-31.” The New Interpreter’s® Bible Commentary Volume I: Introduction to the Pentateuch, Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy, p. 796.

[iii] Ibid, p. 796

[iv] Image from Alcoholics Anonymous literature.

[v] Auld, L. (2 march 2021). “What does “Be still and know that I am God’ really mean?” Downloaded from https://www.crosswalk.com/faith/bible-study/what-is-the-meaning-of-the-verse-be-still-and-know-that-i-am-god.html on September 30, 2022.

[vi] Ibid

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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October 1, 2022 · 11:52 am

God is our defender

Image from the blog post, A Trivial Devotion, “Joseph’s Other Coat.”

This sermon was preached on the Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost (September 25, 2022) at Christ Lutheran Church in Fredericksburg, VA. You can listen to this sermon at my podcast, 2 Penny Blog.

           As one reads through Genesis, we are taken from the macro level to the micro level…a cosmic scale to the personal. After creation related stories (which include the Flood and the Tower of Babel), we have a cycle of stories about Abraham, followed by a cycle about Jacob, later renamed Israel, Abraham’s son, and finally the famous story of Joseph, Jacob’s most beloved son. Roughly fourteen of fifty chapters of Genesis deal with the saga of Joseph, so we can expect that the story just might be an important one.  

         Many of us are familiar with the story – Joseph’s amazing, valuable “coat,” a gift from his father, setting off the jealousy of his brothers. This leads him to be cast into a pit and eventually into slavery. It is in that darkness that his gift of God’s favor, exemplified by his ability to interpret dreams, his uprightness, and skills, lead him into an historic rise to eventually sit in a seat of power by the side of Pharoah. Yet today’s part of the story is often overlooked. It is quite scandalous after all. It is uncomfortable. Joseph is accused of one of the most violent and horrific crimes one can commit against another.

         Here, we have a slave, who by the norms of the time did not even own his own body, reject the advances of his master’s wife because he knew it would dishonor his master and more importantly his God. The commandment against adultery did not exist yet, but even the ancients understood such betrayal can lead to great harm and even greater violence. Potiphar’s wife coveted Joseph in his youth. Once denied, she betrayed him further. Holding onto his cloak as Joseph ran away, his cloak, his nakedness, would be used to prove the case of violent sexual assault that she would raise against him.

As an aside, I find it interesting that just as a cloak caused him to be cast into slavery, a second cloak now would be used to cast him further down into prison – if not toward death itself.[i] Further, I think it is interesting to note that the Hebrew verb often used for garments and cloaks, beged, sounds very much like the noun, bagad, the word sometimes used for marital unfaithfulness (as in Jeremiah 3:7-8, 20; Malachi 2:14).[ii] Perhaps these similar repetitions help reflect the ancient oral roots of this story before it was even written down. Repetition and rhyming would help people remember the story. We just don’t know for sure.

In any event, we have a man falsely accused and testified against. Potiphar’s wife seeks to discredit him not only as someone guilty of sexual assault but also, worse than being a slave perhaps, he’s labeled as a foreigner. She would use whatever bias and accusation she could to diminish and punish Joseph even though she knew of the potential consequences. Poor old Joseph was cast into the pit once again, so to speak, and left for dead. This time, he was in prison perhaps for the rest of his life.

Yes, we likely want to judge Potiphar’s wife harshly. I’ve been at the receiving end of false accusations especially when a police officer – a few times very serious accusations – but fortunately, people recanted, or there was plenty of evidence to prove the accusations unfounded. Yet, each time I’d feel angry…wounded…set adrift as I waited for vindication. I imagine many here know of what I speak, even if the accusations and gossip you faced were not as serious. People can gossip and lie about us. Perhaps the wrongs we think of were even committed by a family member. My goodness, I think my little brother’s favorite phrase in the English language was, “He did it!” whether I did it or not.

Joking aside, in families and society, we can be quick to judge and accuse. We can be like Potiphar’s wife. Sometimes the accusations and suspicions can be so severe that the victim of these lies suffers greatly and does not recover easily…an example might be Richard Jewel who was falsely accused of being the bomber of the 1996 Atlanta Olympics. (There’s a recent movie about his experiences.) At other times, we hear of people that harm themselves or others because of accusations, gossip, or doubts. It is hard to live among others when you feel everyone is judging you…has perhaps labeled you…in effect has abandoned you.  

Of course, sexual assault is very serious, but so is the act of false accusation itself. Such behaviors can tear a community or person apart. It can murder a person’s spirit. A little lie can become a great injustice. Through the Ten Commandments, God will later appeal to Moses and the twelve tribes of Israel, descendants of Joseph and his brothers, to not bear false witness. God knows the disunity and violence that can result. Many moderns wrongly assume this alludes only to serious proceedings in court or the public square, but that’s not traditionally how it was understood among many earlier Christians. Some of the earliest leaders of the Church would argue that instead of accusing others, we should instead make excuses for our neighbor and judge ourselves harshly.[iii] St. Ephrem famously prayed, “Yes, O Lord and King, grant me to see my own faults and not to judge my brother, since you are blessed to the ages of ages.”[iv]

In his work of reformation and his own experience with grace, Martin Luther argued similarly but perhaps pushed it a bit further. Recognizing how important our reputations are (our honor) to living with others, he understood the theft of such honor…the killing of another’s honor through even the act of idle gossip…was a great sin. Indeed, in the Large Catechism as he examines the 8th Commandment as Lutherans count them (“Thou shall not bear false witness”), he argues we all have been guilty of it. In our own misuse of scripture or “other sins of the tongue whereby we may injure or approach too closely to our neighbor,” we violate this precept.

He writes: “Here belongs particularly the detestable, shameful vice of speaking behind a person’s back and slandering, to which the devil spurs us on, and of which there would be much to be said. For it is a common evil plague that everyone prefers hearing evil to hearing good of his neighbor; and although we ourselves are so bad that we cannot suffer that anyone 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.” Yes, we can grow jealous like Joseph’s brothers. If one doubts Luther’s insights, consider all the money made from gossip related articles, social media posts, and shows just over the last week about the royal family in England. Humans seem to hunger for gossip and scandal when it is about others.   

In Luther’s argument, “False witness, then, is everything which cannot be properly proved.” It can be rooted in our jealousy or judgement of others. We can acknowledge wrongs. Yet, we don’t have the right to judge anyone unless called to serve as a civic judge, or unless (ultimately) we erroneously think we are God. More than that, like the Patriarchs in the early church, Luther argues that we should always seek to speak the best of people…to reframe them and their behaviors in the best possible light…to be gracious to them as God is so gracious to us with all our own secret sin and shame.

In this sacred account, we don’t hear if Potiphar’s wife ever faced consequences for her sins, but we do see how Joseph responds. One might argue that he turned the other cheek. He does not obsess about her. Even as he acknowledges he had been wronged; we never hear that he cursed her to hell. Instead, we see a young man with seemingly everything against him who perseveres and preserves his own honor before God. He seeks to honor God through mastering his own behaviors and response. It reminds me of a 12 step maxim. When in relationship with other neighbors doing wrong, making a mess on their side of the street, all we can really do is clean up our own side of the street. That’s the only place we really have power. We do so and trust that God will make things work out in the end.[v]

The Psalms, often songs of lament, speak of such betrayal as well. A young couple I know, dear friends of mine, were recently tasked to write a song representing Psalm 109. The lyrics could be our own prayer when we are gossiped about or betrayed:

I come to you small and needy,

my heart knows many scars.

My friends have all betrayed me,

You know just who they are.

My enemies surround me, they curse me with their tongues,

repaying good with evil, returning hate for love.

So, I pray when my hands and heart are weak,

when there’s nothing left in me, you’re my Defender.

And through the night, you’re bringing truth to light,

So, I don’t have to fight, you’re my Defender.[vi]

Yes, as with Joseph, the Lord is our defender, and we don’t have to fight. We don’t have to lower ourselves to act like our accusers. We are asked only to trust God and love as best as we are able in Jesus’ name. For whatever others might say, Jesus says he loves us and is with us always. We are clothed in God’s grace, and our accusers, not even Satan himself, will ever win the day. Amen.

[i] Strom, B. (2017). “Luther on Do Not Bear False Witness Against Your Neighbor” downloaded from https://seekingvirtueandwisdom.com/luther-on-do-not-bear-false-witness-against-your-neighbor on September

[ii] Hamilton (2022). The Book of Genesis: Chapters 18-50. New International Commentary on the Old Testament Series, 465, as quoted in “Joseph’s Other Coat” at A Trivial Devotion blog downloaded at http://trivialdevotion.blogspot.com/2011/12/wrongfully-accused-josephs-other-coat.html on September 21, 2022.

[iii] Strom, B. (2017). “Luther on Do Not Bear False Witness Against Your Neighbor” downloaded from https://seekingvirtueandwisdom.com/luther-on-do-not-bear-false-witness-against-your-neighbor on September 21, 2022.

[iv] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prayer_of_Saint_Ephrem as quoted by Strom, B. above.

[v] Alcoholics Anonymous.

[vi] Labriny, S. and Henretty, N. (2022). “Defender.” Stewarding Praise (Psalms 107​-​112) by Cardiphonia Music.

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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September 12, 2022 · 12:33 am

God will never leave us to drown

Photo by Phillip Flores on Unsplash

In this sermon, I take a deeper look at how our interactions with “the floods” of our modern lives can be changed by reflecting upon the promise found in the ancient tale of Noah’s flood. I do not suggest that no one ever drowns, or suffers, or dies. In the real world, people do. Yet, thanks be to God, not even death need be the end of our story. This sermon was preached on the Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost (September 11, 2022) at Christ Lutheran Church in Fredericksburg, VA. You can listen to the sermon on my companion podcast: S1, Ep19.

That such ancient stories as Noah’s ark should apply to us today, or even encourage us, might surprise some people…especially when the story of Noah is so violent and filled with death. If we think about it, despite the many baby rooms decorated with arks, animals, and rainbows, we don’t discover a children’s story. We encounter our God who goes to war against a prideful, self-centered, violent humanity. One point of the flood was to destroy and kill. (That does not seem like a very warm and fuzzy bedtime story to me.) Yet, we also should keep in mind that this God (our God) who judges, punishes, and destroys so often in the Hebrew scriptures is the same God who has come to save us. If we look deeper, we find God’s justice in tension with God’s mercy. We can find both law (a kind of accusation or judgement against us in our sin) and gospel (good news of God’s love come to save us). Remember, God also used the waters of the flood to make all things new.

         As humans, we tend to be myopic and dualistic in our thinking. We like to have things clearly labeled good and bad in our minds, but when the world is at its worst – if we step back – we find it is often somewhere in the in-between. In my own life, I know I can struggle with this at times. Some of you know that I have had a lot of challenges over the recent weeks. I could easily make a list of all the personal struggles and losses I have faced. Beyond personally having complications with COVID due to some immunity issues, I also had two extended family members die from COVID while I was recovering. That was sobering and a heavy burden. And while still ill, my truck broke down not once but twice. My trash disposal stopped disposing, and my air conditioner stopped conditioning on a ninety-degree day. There were other troubles too. I was like, “Where’s that kick me sign on my back. I want to get it off,” but I never found one. I was feeling overwhelmed and wondering what was going on.

Yet as I thought about it, I recognized that this is just kind of the way life goes sometimes. At times, problems do seem to come fast and furious, and things don’t work out. And, we actually know from research – and what we learn in the Bible bears this out – that if we can accept that we live in a fallen world and there are problems…if we can accept them, not meaning we never fight them by trying to do our best amidst them…yet if we accept them in the sense that we don’t dwell on them and recognize that God loves us and cares for us no matter what is going on…we actually can prove more resilient. We can do better fighting disease and in our relationships. We live in a troubled world, and sometimes troubles will come. We will be ok.

Yet even in the best of times, I could make a very long list of troubles at almost any time, because as a fallen human, my heart can easily focus on the bad, the fearful, my need for hope. Woe is Lou. Certainly, such troubles – some passing and some not in this life – can capture our attention. At some level, they need our attention, but we can go too far. We can dive to deep into our troubles. We can give up hope while focused solely on the bad, even though “no temptation has overtaken us except what is common to all of humankind.” And as Paul further suggests, when we are so tested, “God will provide us a way out.” (See 1 Corinthians 10:11-13.) These are common struggles and feelings that pop during dark or troubling times. My goodness, look in the Psalms and you can find such dilemmas of faith. Even Jesus on the cross (quoting the psalms) asked, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” He might not have given up on God the Father, but Jesus in his humanity hurt. Although fully divine, he was fully humane too. His heart hurt, and he felt alone.

Like a horse, we humans tend to have blinders on while God wants us to take them off to see the bigger picture…so that we remember God’s promises. Instead, genetically, we tend to focus on the threat before us because that seems to need our attention most. Yet unlike the horses using blinders for protection (to keep them focused on their task), they don’t work so well for humans. We can miss opportunities and options with blinders on. We can overlook the good of God at work around us…the promise from God through Jesus that all things will work for the good of those that love God. It is a promise still being worked out even in the worst of times. We might forget that our story isn’t over yet…that God is still speaking…acting…loving. Indeed, God is still with us amidst any annoyance or suffering, even when we don’t see God. Jesus promises to always be with us to the end of the age.

So, how can a cataclysmic story like Noah’s help refocus our gaze….or help shape our own lives for the good that is promised us? Well, first off, in this story, we meet a God who isn’t far away…disengaged and thundering in the clouds. Our God cares…always cared…for us. Creation has come. The Fall has happened. Yet God doesn’t give up on us. God was paying attention to this world and its creatures, and God noticed there was a problem. Humanity had become consumed by evil thoughts and actions. Violence reigned in the world, and God cared that the fallen human condition did not reflect God’s will for humanity or even the tiniest of creepy crawly things crawling on the earth.

True, God’s sense of justice was pushed toward a breaking point back then. God was close to starting things over. Yet, God noticed one person, a man named Noah…just one in a world of many…and God’s own heart was moved to mercy. We hear that Noah found favor with God, not so much because Noah is perfect…we see later in scripture that he was not…but that Noah was righteous. “Noah walked with God,” we are told. In the Hebrew way of understanding…and remember this is a story preserved in the Hebrew scriptures…righteousness is not an abstract notion but rather consists in doing what is just and right in all relationships.[i] What is the fulfillment of the law? Not rigid perfection, but loving God with all that we are and our neighbor as ourselves. Noah finds favor with God because of his open heart…and thus God gifts Noah with unmerited grace.

Through Noah and his family, God will seek to correct humanity’s course…but not just humanity’s…all of creation’s course. And isn’t that also partly why we as Christians are told that we are gifted with God’s grace and saved through faith? Jesus came for the renewal of a fallen world…the ultimate creation of a new heaven and earth where we will live with our God forever. Notice…Noah’s call and Jesus’s own purpose are united in a shared goal. God’s vocation (so to speak) is seeking the welfare of the wider world, and we, as Christ’s body are invited to also play a part. We are part of that same story.

While the human heart can still turn from God and often tends to ignore God’s love, God turns toward the world and would not give up on it or us. Seeing the human heart in conflict with God’s own, the scriptures tell us that God’s heart filled with pain. God grieved and suffered much as a loving parent might when a child goes astray. Yet instead of turning away, God at the time of Noah decided to enter our brokenness[ii]…which of course, he will do even more intimately and ultimately through Jesus.  

No question, the flood was a horrific event with great loss from the human perspective. Yet, the flood also served to make all things new. People of that age saw God as a warrior, much as other gods were envisioned and understood at the time. And so, it is no small thing that God puts his bow down in the sky to declare peace. God covenants (or promises) to never destroy the world or its creatures in such a way again. God commands with steadfast love (as God first did at creation), “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth” (Gen. 9:1).

God’s decision for the flood was no arbitrary act. Amidst the flood, we find, as one scholar suggests, “a God who expresses sorrow and regret; a God who judges but doesn’t want to, and then not in arbitrary or annihilative ways; a God who goes beyond justice and determines to save some creatures, including every animal and bird; a God who commits to the future of a less than perfect world; a God open to change and doing things in new ways; a God who promises never to do this again.”[iii]

With the flood, there’s no real difference made in humanity, just less humans around.[iv] We remained sinners. Yet with God, through God, love has grown.[v] A new way is possible now. God commits to love us, not in spite of our sin, but because of it. Through the flood, we see the tension between God’s sense of justice and mercy resolved as God wills not to destroy but rather to save.[vi] And now, wrapped within that loving promise, Noah and Noah’s descendants can move forward through any challenges and horrors with confidence and hope…if they dare to believe.[vii]

When we face challenges…when we face pain…when we experience want or loneliness…we may encounter the same powerful God as Noah. We are asked to trust in God’s promises. Our hearts may cry, “Lord, save us! We are perishing!” Yet we should try to remember that God’s heart is oriented toward us in love even then… perhaps even more so then. Why are we afraid, we of little faith? Why do we only look for the bad and the fearful instead of to the hills for God’s coming help? At such times, our worry can become a flood,[viii] and those floods might seem to last for too long a time. Yet God’s love for us is more enduring still. God will never leave us to drown. Jesus who has power over wind and wave has power over death itself, and he wills to claim us as God’s own forever. He died to make it so. Amen.

[i] https://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/righteousness

[ii] The New Interpreter’s Bible, Vol 1. (1994). Nashville: Abingdon Press, p. 395.

[iii] Ibid.

[iv] Narrative Lectionary 324: Flood and Promise, a podcast by Working Preacher. September 2, 2018.

[v] Ibid.

[vi] The New interpreter’s Bible, Vol. 1 (1994). Nashville: Abingdon Press.

[vii] Ibid.

[viii] “Flood” by Jars of Clay.

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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June 12, 2022 · 4:26 pm

A God beyond us, but always with us

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.

© 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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April 4, 2022 · 4:00 pm

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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February 13, 2022 · 1:00 pm

Loved, Craddled, Blessed

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[i] Natalie Grant, “Held” (2006).

[ii] Natalie Grant, “Held” (2006).

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

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