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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.

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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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November 17, 2021 · 5:02 pm

Living Amidst Wars and Rumors of Wars

The following sermon was offered at Christ Lutheran Church on November 14, 2021, the 25th Sunday after Pentecost. Due to the positive feedback and discussion, that followed, I am posting the text here. I have also embeded the worship service below. In the video, the sermon starts at approximately the 10:50 minute mark. Primary text: Mark 13:1-8.

Image by Justin on Unsplash. Used by permission.

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

As our church year comes toward an end, our lectionary circles back to some topics and stories that come from the end of Jesus’ life – things we would often here in Lent just before the victory of Easter. Today, Jesus has entered Jerusalem for the Passover Festival, and he knows it will be for the last time. He fully understands that he is there to die. As Mark’s account starts out, Jesus was tempted three times by Satan, and here the cosmic battle will be settled once and for all. Jesus will tramp the devil under his foot, not by being a king in the earthly sense, but through his suffering, death on the cross, and ultimate resurrection.

Yet in the face of this tension, he’s teaching his disciples about what is to come – at some level, what to expect – but also why to maintain our hope. Through Jesus, God reveals what one scholar calls “a future toward an end.”[i] It is a linear faith in a way. Thanks to the teachings of Jesus and the scriptures, we know the starting point (the Fall) and on the other extreme we know the ending point (full restoration as Jesus comes again). “God is shaping a future toward an end,” yet there are not many timeline details.[ii] As Luther noted, our peace during this time of temptation and tribulation comes from a God who seems often hidden. We “are going uphill and downhill and uphill again. One moment it is night, the next day, and then it is soon night again.”[iii] Martin Luther did not know of such things, but what he is basically describing is that this unfolding of history can seem like a terrifying roller coaster ride.

While it is true that I jumped out of planes in the US Army, and I’ve rappelled from great heights and faced dangerous circumstances at times in my previous vocations, I’m not a big fan of roller coaster rides. There’s just something about them that bothers me – not so much the height, nor the twist and turns, nor even any light show modern coasters might offer us…mostly, I hate the feeling of lost control. We must depend on the architects, engineers, and maintenance people to keep us safe. We are just along for the ride.

That said, I will go on one when someone like a niece or nephew begs me too, but I will tell you my survival secret. I just try to keep my sight on one direction or point before me and quiet the voices within me through prayer. I know the goal, and I trust that I will make it. That’s not too unlike life. As children of God, it is helpful to keep our eyes on Jesus and the victory before us, and when the voices of doubt and darkness spring into our head, we must try to shout them down with God’s promises. “Get back Satan! We are loved. We are saved even as we are being saved.” God is helping us no matter what we can see with our eyes, and we are already victorious through our faith and baptism. No matter what happens, good, bad or indifferent, all is well, because God will give us “the power to win through to the end.”[iv]  

If we judge our situation purely by reason or experience, we will always be wrong. Jesus teaches that faith is the key to true understanding. So, when Jesus’ disciples begin to marvel at the architecture and enormity of the Temple, they were not wrong. It was truly something with some of its stones weighing tons and individual stones proving a larger in size than some homes of the day. They were right to be amazed! King Herod the Great had expanded the Second Temple into his own work of art and glory. It was meant to be a testimony not simply of the supremacy of the Hebrew God, not only speaking of the place of the Jewish nation in the world…It also screamed of his greatness. The Jewish Temple existed as a centerpiece of Jewish identity and meaning – politically, culturally, and religiously. All sacrifices to God were meant to be made there and nowhere else. It was the place where their all-powerful God was meant to reside literally and figuratively at the center of God’s chosen people.

Yes, the Philistines had destroyed the previous Tent of Meeting and stolen the Ark of the Covenant when some priests had been unfaithful, but God gave it back. And when the people lost their way, had turned against God, the Babylonians did come in and destroy Solomon’s Temple, the First Temple that replaced the Tent of Meeting, and forced a 70-year exile of the Jewish people, but God had forgiven them. God brought them home after 70 years for a new Temple to be constructed and better days ahead. The idea of this third great Temple, the widely expanded and ornate Temple of Herod the Great, would ever be destroyed was unbelievable for most people. To destroy the Temple with its cultic and national significance, as a wonder of the world, seemed an utter impossibility. It would be an unbelievable threat to the truth of God’s promise that God would love and protect them forever.

And so, as the disciples cry out in wonder, “Look at that Temple!” Jesus deeply shocks them to their own foundations by saying, “It is not going to last. It will be destroyed.” Not only that, but he also uses this prophesy to open the door to a greater mystery yet. Jesus will die. In the eyes of the world, he will be destroyed, but he will rise again. His closest and oldest friends, his most intimate group of Apostles, have come far enough in faith not to doubt him even if this makes them fearful. When they have a chance to speak alone with him, Peter, James, John, and Andrew ask when this will be and what signs should they look for. They want to be ready. They hunger for some sense of control. In a sign of some mercy, Jesus tells them there are basically four signs: false messiahs; wars and rumors of wars; earthquakes and other disasters; and persecution.[v]

Notice, as with scripture itself, Jesus doesn’t provide details. It will all be revealed to his followers when the time is right, and as we are ready. Indeed, at some level, his prophesy came true by 70 AD. There were false prophets and calamities and persecution immediately following Jesus’ death and resurrection. The Church faced many growing pains and threats as did the Jewish people. And finally, the Roman Empire grew tired of the rebellious Jews in Judea, and the Romans destroyed everything. The great city of Jerusalem was sacked, the people scattered in an exile reaching into the twentieth Century after World War 2, and the Temple torn down. The riches that had been dedicated to our God of life and love would now be used to help build the famous Colosseum of Rome, a place of persecution, battle, and death. All that is really left of the Temple are some foundation stones, commonly called the Western Wall today.  

As a result, many contemporaries, even Paul who died in about 67 AD, assumed Jesus would return and the dead would be resurrected soon and very soon. Still, time is relative when it comes to God. That day has not yet come to pass. Like the original believers, we are left to wait in hope…to hold on to our shared belief. God’s plan was and is yet unfolding, and nothing, not even death itself, will stop God’s love from coming to its full fruition.

This section of Mark’s Gospel is often called his “Little Apocalypse.” He briefly shares Christ’s teaching not just about the end of the Temple but seemingly also about the end of the world. The ending of the world is still going on all around us. We see those four signs! I think a theologian from Valparaiso University (a Lutheran school in Indiana) is correct when she asserts that we all experience our own “Little Apocalypses” throughout our life.[vi] We have days when we wonder, “How can I do this? What’s going to happen to me?” Or, as a pastoral care professor of mine used to remind us that we suffer a little bit of death every day.[vii]

“The Devil is in the details,” people say, and when it comes to the end of the world (or when and how our own life will play out), it is likely a blessing God doesn’t let us fully in on the details of what lies before us. It might distract us from the blessings of today or cause us unnecessary fear. Instead, Jesus provides us the key to it all in verse 7, “do not be alarmed; this must take place.” This must take place. We don’t fully know why. We cannot fully understand where and when or even how. Yet, we know this, we are and remain God’s beloved. This…God has promised us. We are only asked to trust the architect, builder, and maintainer of our lives.

I wish that I could tell you that we will experience no more suffering, loss, or failure ahead, but that would be a lie. It would be unbiblical. Even Jesus had to die, so why do we resist that we must too? All the powers of the world remain against him, and if we cling to him, they will resist us too. We are part of this cosmic battle being played out to its end,[viii] and we are gifted the power to choose whose side we want to be on. We can choose to trust Jesus or not.

Last week, I saw a man on television who claimed to be sent from Jesus while peddling his “miracle water.” Used appropriately, it was said to save you from poverty. Although claimed to be “free,” I discovered through research that it has somehow made him a very wealthy man. False prophets are among us still, and some people give them power over their lives. Of earthquakes, and famines and plagues, wars and rumors of war, oh, we have had our fill. Just watch or read the news if you dare. Yet, God isn’t done with us or the world yet. We don’t know why, but the end is still to come. With that end, a new heaven and earth will come too – a new beginning. More is in store than what we can see, understand, or even imagine.

A reading from The Word in Season (those little daily devotional guides available in our welcome area) gave me a lot to think about recently. On November 6, an entry really challenged me, as I faced the life and death struggle of yet another friend from COVID-19. The author pointed out that Jesus was indeed a master storyteller. As when he spoke about the lilies of the field, he was a great poet. “But when necessary, he was able to speak with simple directness, ‘Have faith in God.’” Have faith in God. There’s an urgency there and a call to utter dependence if not total surrender. Do we trust our God who is love or not? “‘Have faith in God,’ said Jesus, and live the love that can make the whole world whole.”[ix] That’s all we can ultimately do – trust while seeking to live in love. Other than that, strap in and hang on. With God in control, we are in for one awesome ride – one which can only end in joy and laughter over all we have been through together….all that God has gotten us through together. That is God’s promise to us. That is God’s plan, and we can trust it. Amen.  

[i] Brobst-Renaud, A. (November 14, 2021). Working Preacher. Commentary on Mark 13:1-8.

[ii] Langknecht, H. (November 15, 2009). Working Preacher. Commentary on Mark 13:1-8.

[iii] Luther, M. Sermon on St. Peter and St. Paul’s Day,” EA6:294f.

[iv] Ibid.

[v] Card, M. (2012). Mark: The Gospel of Passion. Intervarsity Press: Downers Grove, IL. p. 159.

[vi] Brobst-Renaud, A. Working Preacher.

[vii] His name was The Rev. Charles Brown, PhD, Union Theological Seminary.

[viii] We believe as Lutherans that the battle was won with Jesus’ cross and resurrection, but the powers of sin, death and the Devil fight on it their death throws until Jesus returns.

[ix] Word in Season (October, November, December 2021 edition). p. 39.

As noted above, our worship service can be found below. The sermon begins at about the 10:50 minute mark.

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January 28, 2019 · 10:31 pm

Farewell Sermon at Messiah Lutheran Church in Mechanicsville, VA

Farewell Sermon, Pastor Lou Florio
Messiah Lutheran, Mechanicsville, VA
Feast of the Conversion of Paul
Close of the Week of Prayer of Christian Unity
January 25, 2019

Year C Readings:
Acts 9:1-22; Psalm 67; Galatians 1:11-24; Luke 21:10-19

conversionSo here we are…Many miles and more than eleven years have passed since I first came to Messiah as your pastor. What an adventure it has been! We’ve made a lot of progress, and yes, we have taken a wrong turn a time or two as well. Yet with God’s grace and guidance, holding onto each other’s hands and caring for one another’s hearts, we’ve made it to this day. It proves a surprising day where God is doing something wondrous and new, and yet it is as God always does on every day, whether we are aware of it or not…even when it seems sad or hard. God is always doing something wondrous and new.

Still, it appears to be a pretty big if not dangerous turn in the road ahead, doesn’t it? What will happen to Kristine and me as we enter a new congregation with new challenges and new people? … And challenges and people often go together, don’t they?… And what about Messiah, who will be sent to walk with you into a future the prophet’s promise will be one filled with hope? Well, if I know anything of God after my 55+ years traveling on this globe, I know this. The journey will not always be easy…in fact it will often prove extremely hard…but God’s loving grace will always be there to carry us forward. In good times and bad, God will send us to the people that need our help and encouragement. God will also send us the people we need.

Amidst this certainty, how much like Paul we can still prove to be…so often blind to the plans of God…frequently resisting them even as we think we are doing the right thing. And then suddenly, in profound moments of grace, we catch a glimpse of Jesus. Perhaps through the circumstances or people sent our way…maybe it’s a still, small voice speaking to our heart…but we ultimately hear Jesus challenge and encourage us. Amidst our fears or missteps, he tells us, “get up and enter the [future], and you will be told what you are to do.” You see, Jesus, Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, is in that future already waiting to welcome us. Through our faith and baptism, he has claimed us. He upholds us. It is he who ultimately guides us as a shepherd, and it is he who wills to see us travel together home.

Like Paul, we might have to repent of some of our ways, and maybe we will need an Ananias or two to help us keep straight. And for all of us, wherever we are on this journey, we are invited as children to continually grow in our knowledge and awareness of Christ. It is together through this relationship called “church,” we hear the word of God and share the Lord’s Supper. We together proclaim the Gospel and serve the Christ in others. We grow in this communion of love; in oneness with Christ, his angels and all the saints. And yes, this wondrous new reality includes those of all traditions in his universal church.

On this pilgrimage of sorts, we discover that we are men and women, children who belong to the Way. Claimed in our baptism and continually formed and transformed by the Holy Spirit, we go forward into a certain future…one of hope…despite the fact we do not know the way on our own. And so with Simon Peter, we might meekly, longingly and perhaps even sadly in desperation say, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You [alone] have the words of eternal life.” Yet we can trust with Paul, even in our weakness, that we have been chosen and called to be instruments of Christ’s love. We have something to offer no matter how messed up, weak or small we think we are. Our ultimate victory is assured.

And thus, it is no surprise to me as to how many more scales came from my own eyes as we entered the Way more deeply together. I saw Jesus in how a previously wounded congregation united in love. It was willing to do anything it could to not only reconcile but also to welcome the stranger. As these people came into our lives, they were often helped with housing and food. Several were moved from homelessness to the working world. Others were embraced when the world and even their own families had thrown them aside as if they had no value. Some stayed as our brothers and sisters here at Messiah. Some went on with our blessing. And although disagreements and even sin could arise, we loved one another and forgave one another time and time again.

A wonderful thing happened on this walk with Jesus and one another. We were blessed even as we sought to bless others. I, for one, had the opportunity to grow in my understanding of Jesus and the power of his love. Yet we also made new friends. Yes, this includes many of those we helped, but we also found that God sent us still others to serve beside us. Our brothers and sisters at All Souls Episcopal come to mind first and foremost. (I lovingly call them my “Episco-peeps.”) Who would have thought God would do so much through our two little, sometimes struggling congregations just by the opening of our hearts, our buildings and our missions to one another? Jesus has been most certainly doing something unique in and through these two bonded congregations. I dare say he won’t stop now if you dare to continue to listen and walk with him. Whatever happens, whatever Jesus has in mind for your relationship, I echo Christ’s own command and urge you to love one another. That love has made a profound difference in the world already, and your relationship proves to be a living parable of communion for others.

And although they were often secular in nature, our cooperation with many other community organizations proved important too. It also meant since we were there, Jesus was there. This led to some discovering Jesus and his Church in a positive way perhaps for the first time, or at least becoming more aware of them. Still others were affirmed in their already existing faith. Serving humanitarian needs or even the needs of our animal friends, the world was made a better place, and that’s partly through the new relationships forged.

I remember one woman who had visited us several times after we warmly and sincerely welcomed her and her dog at our pet blessing and craft fair. Before that, she had become disaffected (if not wounded) on her journey with Christ’s church. One Sunday after several months of visiting here and there, she stopped coming without saying a word. Yet a few years later, she visited us for Christmas Eve, and she told me that she had moved to the mountains and joined a Lutheran congregation there. She said, “Your congregation is why I became Lutheran.” I stopped to consider her statement, as I have done many times since. Through the very little that we had done…the authentic welcome of a women and her dog in Christ’s name…with no ulterior motive…the Spirit had been at work for a life-changing purpose.

How many other little moments of blessing went unseen nor fully understood? I imagine many. I could go on and on with stories of “Jesus sightings,” acts of quiet yet profound generosity, offerings of forgiveness and love. Unfortunately, there’s not enough time. The blessings are too many and the time much too short. It is now time for me and Kristine to leave. And this makes us truly sad.

Yet, I have also learned on my journey that partings, although sad, can indeed prove part of God’s plan for the desert to bloom. As I left the brothers of Taizé, I cried, but I knew a little bit of their hearts would remain with me, and mine with theirs…that the promise of the communion of saints would prove true. Indeed, I give God thanks for them each day when I think of them. What a surprising joy it was to have them with us last April for our young adult event! It was as if we had never parted, and I now wonder if our paths will cross again. Later as I left the Native American youth I loved so deeply and sought to serve as a missionary in South Dakota, I pondered (and continue to ponder) how they made my life better and informed my faith and service here at Messiah. I still sense that I remain in communion with them, and when we are in touch through the internet, our hearts are found to remain connected; never truly parted. We remain better for our relationship. And as I went on from internship in Maryland, and hospice chaplaincy, and now move on from being your pastor, I trust I will remain connected to you and the many others who have walked with me in beauty and love. Through the power of the Holy Spirit, through the faith, hope and loved shared, Kristine and I will remain in communion with you all forever. Our lives have been transformed, and we can’t go back.

This has been a sacred journey, but it isn’t over yet. The Way is with us, and it lies before us. The Way calls us to remain one in faith and mission until the day of his glorious return. Through my time with you, my eyes have been opened wider; my life changed more for the good. I will glorify our God more often and more clearly because of you. And despite all this good, I still must leave you. God is calling me to share what I have received here with others. I know not why yet, but someday God will make it clear to me. I also trust that God will use what we have shared to move you and others forward in proclaiming our faith, that Jesus is the Son of God. This makes my heart glad even as we have shed tears at this parting. As Martin Luther said, “This is not the end, but it is the road.” It is the road made for us; the one we must travel. (I just wish there weren’t so many bumps!)

Walk on my brothers and sisters. Do not be afraid. Wherever God will lead us through our comings and goings, it remains true that we who are loved by Christ never walk alone. And although separated by miles, or years, or even by suffering and death, the Way carries us together toward one certain destination, a new heaven and new earth…a new home with the Triune God and all the angels and saints forever.

So, “Come, Lord Jesus! Come!” We long for you to lead us home, wherever the Way might take us. Amen.

©The Rev. Louis Florio, January 27, 2019

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December 25, 2012 · 3:26 pm

Sent into the World

The following are the three meditations I shared during our Family Christmas Eve Service at Messiah Lutheran Church and School in 2012. Our theme was “Sent into the World.” We remembered both how Jesus was sent into our world to save us as a newborn babe and how we are sent as his church out into the world. Thus, the service included many hymns and carols from all over the world. The three below were part of the meditation portion of the program, but it was a night filled with music and fun.

The Gift of Jesus

Reading: Isaiah 9:2-7

Prop: small Christmas tree ornament of the globe

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness—on them light has shined” (Isaiah 9:2).

Consider the world [holding up ornament]….Ok, it’s a bit larger than this ornament, but it’s a relatively small place in the vast, extensive darkness of space. Proportionally, this ornament in comparison to your own size is much, much larger – infinitesimally so – than what we would find with a God’s eye view of our planet. Our world is only a small rock in a vast galaxy that itself is only one of millions of galaxies. Our universe was created from a black void – both the Bible and science think so – and this poor little sphere spends much of its time suspended amidst that darkness; hidden by larger heavenly bodies, and threatened by them as well. Yes, our fallen world is filled with threats and horrors and many terrible unknowns, and it always has been. Yet, light breaks in to give warmth, nurture life, and bring joy. Amidst a cosmic battle, God doesn’t leave us unloved or alone in the dark. Instead, he chose to dwell among us…even became one of us on this tiny, out of the way planet we call home.

Long ago, the great prophet Isaiah lived in the 8th Century BC. It was a time of much darkness. Certainly, they didn’t have our modern conveniences or scientific knowledge, but they shared in our troubled humanity. Throughout Isaiah’s life, the nation of Israel faced wars and rumors of war. At least three times, the existence of Israel was at risk of obliteration and exile. It was a time of early death due to violence, famine and disease. There was seemingly too little joy and never enough peace. Yet, a son was born to a young maiden, wife of the king, and the prophet saw in this somewhat ordinary experience the promise that lay within. God would be faithful no matter how dark the days got. God’s plan to rescue his Holy people would never go unfulfilled. Later Christians would understand this same passage to testify to the coming of Jesus Christ.

Over the last few weeks, we have seen too much darkness. Many are still homeless in the northeast after Hurricane Sandy. Diplomats in Benghazi were horrifically killed. In Connecticut, we hear the cries of  modern “Rachels” weeping as foretold by the prophet Jeremiah. (See Jeremiah 31:15-17 and Matthew 2) They cry over too many innocents and our own innocence lost in the safety of their small town school. Closer to home and only in these past few weeks, members of our community have suffered new joblessness, accidents and serious illness, and our beloved Assistant to the Bishop, Pastor Chip Gunsten, died unexpectedly. More tears. More death. Darkness. We might be tempted to echo the writer of Lamentations wondering, “Why God would allow such things? Why would he punish us so?” as we groan anew:

5 [God] has besieged and enveloped me
with bitterness and tribulation;
6 he has made me sit in darkness
like the dead of long ago.  (See Lamentations 3)

Yet in these times of trouble, hear the promises that come to us through Isaiah. Much like that time long ago, there is a sign to remember and hope to be found amidst our darkness. When the time was right, a virgin did conceive, and a very different child was born…one like no one before or since…perhaps beyond Isaiah’s own understanding. He would be a miracle of light, giving hope, joy and love to all the nations. This king would not be a king in our political sense. Instead, he would suffer under the political forces of our world as we might. He would live amongst the ill and dying. His life would be continually threatened from the slaughter of the innocents in Bethlehem until his own death on a cross. God had come, not to punish us, but to share our lot and change it; to end suffering and bring everlasting peace. All authority rested on Jesus’ shoulders, and yet out of love, he took upon those same shoulders the weight of sin, death and the Devil to defeat them all and save us.

Like that original Christmas night long ago, Jesus comes to our tiny planet to touch our tiny lives and hearts today. He wishes to be God with Us, Emmanuel, and so none of the political chaos, evil or darkness is powerful enough to stop him. Although it might be hard for us to recognize him with our human senses at times, our faith hears his voice and trusts he is near. Together as church, we gather as one, holding on in the darkness and never alone. God does not will such suffering. God is only love. Jesus remains our proof, and the fullness of God’s Kingdom will banish our darkness forever when the time is right.

Until then, we testify to the light and hold on to one another – teaching, serving, worshipping, loving God and neighbor. For, “What has come into being in [that baby] was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it (See John 1).”

Although we remain in this land of darkness, the light shines on us and through us still, and our Lord Jesus promises that it always will. No matter what worries us or threatens us…no matter the darkness we sense around us or in us, rejoice! Rejoice with the choirs of angels and all God’s saints for the promise of Christmas has come to us, and we will never again be separated from his love. Amen.

Carol, “Angels We have Heard on High,” Red, 289 

 

The Gift of Grace

Reading: Titus 2:11-14

Prop: Wrapped package or gift bag – empty inside

One of my favorite traditions each Christmas Eve is to gather with my extended family and friends, share a special meal and open gifts. It is such a great joy to see the look of expectation through the eyes of my young nieces and nephews gathered together. Unfortunately sometimes…and I’m afraid it was the same when I was young too…the package comes all wrapped and beautifully bowed…it gets opened frantically, quickly…only to have the child move on just as rapidly to the next gift. The gift delights for a moment, but then the child moves on perhaps as if that beautiful gift box or bag was filled with nothing. [Emptying and examining package]

We, the children of God, spend much of our lives in a similar fashion. We chase after the next bobble or possession, seek positions of power that don’t last, and spend too much time in activities that can’t love us – costly time away from our family and friends. I often hear when someone has a near death experience or approaches the end of their life, “I wish things were different. I have wasted my life.” Yes, as children, we can easily lose our way.

Yet through Christ, a different gift lies before us; one that is eternal and can fill all our life’s empty places. We sense that something is missing, and that perhaps, we could do better. We somehow in our hearts expect more from this life. And so, Jesus calls us buy name, offering us the ultimate gift of his love and friendship.

The theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer compared us to miners trapped underground. We might feel that we are without hope – waiting for death – until suddenly a voice is heard, calling from seemingly nowhere, yet calling in our darkness. “Where are you? Help is coming!” The helpless miner stands up, mustering strength to cry out in return, “Here I am! Come through to me and rescue me!” Faced with the inability to save himself, the miner admits his neediness, “I cannot come through. I cannot help myself. But I wait. I wait and will hold on until you come. Only come quickly.” The miner sees nothing, nothing at all to give him hope. He only hears the promise of the savior, “I am coming for you!” Blow after blow, the sound comes nearer. There is a last crashing, seemingly thunderous blow of the hammer…light breaks in…at first just a hope or glimmer of light…but yes, more…certainly more! One strike and he will be free. New life will be his.[i]

This story is a metaphor for the giftedness of our present life. Jesus has come to save us, he is with us, and he will come again. That saving work began in a small stable. It continued on a cross. It proceeded from a tomb. Yet this is only the first breaking in of his light and love. His saving work continues to dawn in our daily lives today. He calls us to wait…listen for his voice, hold on for his help, and live in his hope. Look up, raise your heads, and expect salvation…a salvation that not even the power of death can keep from us.

In return, we are only asked in the present age to seek lives that are self-controlled, upright, and godly, 13while we wait for the blessed hope and the manifestation of the glory of our great God and Savior,* Jesus Christ (see Titus 2:11-14). He will do all the heavy work, so that through faith, we receive a gift beyond price – a saving grace, a living grace…a grace that must be shared with others, so that we may one day taste our freedom fully together. With such a life reborn of faith, we’ll sense the light of Christ is near us even amidst our darkness. Amen.

Carol, “I Am So Glad Each Christmas Eve,” Red, 271

The Gift of Church

Reading: Luke 2:1-20

“Props”: the people of God!

 

In these modern times, skeptics demand proof. “Prove that the reason for the season is Jesus! Prove to me that God is love!” What signs can we give them?

Long ago, some less modern skeptics gathered in a field. They were of lowly status, shepherds of sheep. They were known for dirty bodies and dirty lives filled with drinking, lies, and even theft. They were a hard people shaped by the hardness of life, and they expected little.

“Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.” (see Luke 2)

The long expected sign for the King of Kings, the Messiah, our Savior…the one who would change all the world…was a baby! It was a poor infant from a poor family in poor circumstances. A child swaddled in simple, torn strips of cloth. That was the great sign of God’s love. God had come to share in the hardness of life and free us from it.

That child would grow to be a boy wise beyond his years. Then, he would become a man who preached and taught not as the scribes and priests did but as one with the authority of God. This great rabbi would travel the land by foot. He would walk far and wide reaching out not only to the expected Chosen Ones of God, but all people: the lepers, the wounded, and the greatest of sinners. Even on his cross, that man would share comforting words of God from scripture, pray for his persecutors, offer forgiveness to someone crucified beside him, care for his mother, and give up his own life so that others might live. Jesus’ life and being was and remains that greatest of signs of God’s love for us.

And so here we are, gathered as millions and millions of Christians have done over the millennia and do so tonight. We would not be here if Jesus hadn’t been born as one of us and risen from the dead…if people like us hadn’t been touched by the light of his life and past that light on to us through the ages (as we will symbolically do with candlelight later this evening). The incarnate Christ is who we worship…the ever so real and yet divine Jesus…and he is present in our world through the incarnate church, the embodiment of his teachings, life and love.

We can be a hard people with a hard life, and yet the angels speak to us…call us to become Christ’s messengers. “Do not be afraid! To you is born a Savior”…for you a Savior. He is a gift come to you, so that you with others might share one communal, eternal, joyful life with him. Through faith, we are to be his body, a sign of good news and great joy for all people.

As his body, we are asked to share in his life, suffering, death, and resurrection out of love. It is his Spirit that washes over us in our baptism, and his flesh and blood that touches our own in our sacred meal. Just as Jesus’ life is the final answer to sin, death and the Devil, he has spoken us into being for this time and this place with all its unique challenges. Look to your right and left…see yourself in a mirror. We are the church! We are to be Christ in the world!

We are called to be Christ’s church together, a gift to the world as Jesus was God’s loving gift to us. As the Spirit was a gift to the first disciples that same Holy Spirit seeks to empower us now. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations (see Matthew 28:16-20)…be zealous in good deeds (Titus 2:14)…walk in his light (Isaiah 9:2)…For God so loved the world that he sent his only Son into our world to rescue us and dwell in our hearts (John 3:16-17). Out of that same love, God sends us back out into that hard, dark world – strengthened and never alone – to share his light not just on this holy night, but always.

May we like those shepherds, praise God and share with one and all what we have seen and heard. Amen.

Carol, “Infant Holy, Infant Lowly,” Red, 276

 

[i] Paraphrase of a portion of a sermon by Dietrich Bonhoeffer as translated in Robertson, E. (trans. And ed.) (2005) Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s Christmas Sermons. “How a prisoner awaits for his release.” December 3, 1933. pp. 88-90.

 

 

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

© 2012 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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