SERMONS
Mortality as Gift
Perhaps that is why I and many others love this day. It is the most honest, the most human day in our liturgical year. We are mortal. We are finite. We will die. And grief will hurt.
It is the price of love. It is the sting of being human. It is what makes life precious.
Most of the time we live in denial. Not today, we think to ourselves. We block out the truth of our mortality with gadgets. Or being busy. Or living as if there are endless tomorrows.
Halfway
Yes, we are changed by the transforming love and power of God who meets us daily in the valley of our lives, not just the mountaintop experiences. Mountains are where we get our inspiration. Valleys are where we live and serve.
As we celebrate 150 years of ministry this year we take stock of what we’ve done and ask one another who we can be–in this community, in the neighborhoods of Lakeview and the South Loop, and wherever we live. We are transformed when we identify in ourselves, and for each how our passions, energy, and gifts are being called to meet the world’s needs. We are transformed when we challenge one another to use our gifts, money, and resources to heal a hurting world that is broken by poverty, racism, war.
After the Light Fades
Gentle rainfall at just the right moment, a pleasant or surprisingly deep conversation with a stranger, hearing or reading exactly the words you need to hear on a hard day, or simply a peaceful silence. These quiet, gentle reminders that Jesus is here walking with us can often mean just as much as any mountaintop moment could.
Is there a cure-all?
Call them ailments, diseases, addictions. Hurts, grief, fears, worries. We all are carrying some kind of brokenness, it seems. That is what it means to be human. Whether by genetics. Or choice. Or chance. Whether chronic or lifelong. Or something that seems to come and go.
But what about the miraculous healings in the scriptures? Wouldn’t you like one from time to time? Our gospel says that Jesus cures people. Was this only for biblical times? Is there a difference between curing and healing? Wouldn’t you like a cure-all, a remedy to cure whatever your ailment?
The Fears and Joys of Liberation
Anna’s hope, the hope that permeates Black History, the hope we see in global calls for liberation - including that of Palestine - is not swayed by the knowledge that there will be hard things to face. We hear from the whole Gospel, from the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus that God’s work doesn’t stop at revealing what’s wrong. God’s work doesn’t stop at creating a new law. Simeon’s paraklésis, Simeon’s call for aid has been answered. God is here to do the work with us, to change our hearts, and to change our world. So let us do the work together with Joy.
WWJD
In our world today we still hear scripture quoted to promote silence for the sake of peace and unity. We may even hear scripture quoted in direct support of genocide. If we fail to speak against this twisting of scripture, we become complicit yet again. Complicit in a new atrocity.
As Christians when we ask, “What Would Jesus Do?” Let's not forget the image of Jesus we see in this scripture. A Jesus who addressed uncomfortable topics and difficult situations with confidence. A Jesus who called out injustice boldly, both inside and outside of the synagogue.
Drop Your Nets
What if Jesus doesn’t expect us to change who we are to fit this call? What if Jesus has already shaped and molded the call to suit you?
It's About Time
Every day you’re presented with hundreds of choices about what to do with that day. You can give it to family. Friends. Bosses. Causes. You can succumb to the distractions of the pings and pops on your wrist. In your pocket. And because time is what you’re made of, and all you really have is time…it’s prudent to pay attention to where and how you spend it.
Come and See
You are called to a lifelong relationship with God. In the waters of baptism, you were called to see that the Holy One is with you and loves you more than you could ever imagine. You are called in all the places you work, study, and play to stand up for justice. To stand up for truth. To trust that the Holy One is with you.
Little Epiphanies Everywhere
What made the perils of my adventure bearable was knowing that I was not alone. I was journeying alongside my family and friends, many of whom were also immigrants and people of color. We affirmed each other and stood together even when we were told that our experiences of racism in the US were not real. We named our experiences and found healing in community. I learned that journeying together is always better than journeying alone.
Hodie. Today.
We were in Bethlehem about a month before the attacks of October 7. Tucked away in a large church, we joined other pilgrims in entering a small space in which it is believed to be the cave where Jesus was born. Kneeling and kissing or touching the birthplace. We went to other holy sites where Jesus was born, walked, lived, and died. On each site a church was built.
What moved me wasn’t necessarily that “Jesus was here” two thousand years ago. Rather, it was observing the present-day pilgrims that moved me. Many of them were with groups, often Roman Catholic or Orthodox, and at each site they celebrated a eucharist in a small chapel designated for this purpose.
O' Little Town of Bethlehem
O’ little town of Bethelem, how still we see thee lie above thy deep and dreamless sleep, the silent stars go by. Yet in thy dark streets shineth, the ever-lasting light, the hopes and fear of all the years are met in thee tonight.
For many of us, this beloved carol has framed our image of Jesus' birth—a quiet, still night. The sky filled with holy darkness, but a beam of everlasting light shines a spotlight on the scene with Mary cradling Jesus at her breast and Joseph standing lovingly by her side. In the little town of Bethlehem, all hopes and fears come together and are met in the Christ Child.
Out of the blue
The angel appeared out of the blue. And it changed everything. Natural disasters, violent attacks, accidents. Unplanned pregnancies or pregnancy complications. Resignations or terminations. Announcements of divorces or closings or moves. These can occur out of the blue.
Think of your life. What kinds of big changes came out of the blue for you? Something you could have never planned or expected? Something that changed everything?
The Darkness is Holy Too
So in this season of Advent when there is so much focus on the light of Christ and the love of God breaking into our darkened world, I wonder how we can honor both, light and dark, as gifts of the Holy One. Light and dark are both good, valuable, and holy even though we often speak of light, Christ’s light, banishing our darkness.
Comfort, comfort ye, my people.
Coming out of Covid into multiple wars around the world, climate instability, and political realities that would have seemed incomprehensible decades ago, we seek comfort from community, from music, from scripture, from sacrament, from the presence of Christ, from the faithfulness of God.
Christ, ever-stranger, ever-near
It takes all of us to create a world where the hungry, thirsty, naked, sick, imprisoned strangers are treated like our Gospel envisions. Like we see Christ - who is ever stranger, ever near - in them. Like they are made in the image and likeness of God. Like they are part of the body of Christ. Like they are beloved members of our communities. Like they are us. It takes all of us to answer the Christ who says, "Welcome me."
Risk Tolerance
As people of faith we do not do this alone, we are called to take risks together and not dig holes. As a community of faith, Holy Trinity Lutheran Church is working together to boldly proclaim that the kingdom of God is drawing near. We invest our lives in service to one another and in assisting those who are more vulnerable than we are. We lean into reparations work and invest in repairing the damage done by generations past. We’re drawn to call out racism and demand an end to violence. We are called not to dig holes and bury ourselves and our gifts, but to take some risks and boldly proclaim, not only with our words and our prayers but also with our actions, that Christ is not only coming again but is here with us now.
It's more than the light that's fading
I relate to the drowsy bridesmaids, weary from the bridegroom’s delay. I, too, am weary waiting for justice, for kindness, for peace, for a better future to dawn.
Someone the light shines through
A Sunday school teacher once asked a question to her young students, “Do you know what a saint is?” One of the little girls thinking about the big stained glass windows in the church that depicted saints throughout the centuries, said “A saint is someone the light shines through.”
It's unlikely that the little one understood metaphor and theology in such a profound way. But she gave an eight-word sermon that morning without even realizing it.
Trick Question
For when life is complicated and anything but simple, with so many unanswered questions and with so much uncertainty, it is not only what we give to God, but what God showers upon us: mercy. What we need more than anything: mercy. The hope for our wounded world: mercy.