Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts

Sunday, February 2, 2020

Presentation of Our Lord - Sermon on Luke 2:22-40

Sermon preached by Pastor Daniel Locke on February 2, 2020 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Church in Jacksonville, FL
Listen to the Sermon here

Luke 2:22-40
22 When the time came for their purification according to the law of Moses, they brought him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord 23 (as it is written in the law of the Lord, "Every firstborn male shall be designated as holy to the Lord"), 24 and they offered a sacrifice according to what is stated in the law of the Lord, "a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons."25 Now there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon; this man was righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit rested on him. 26 It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord's Messiah. 27 Guided by the Spirit, Simeon came into the temple; and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to do for him what was customary under the law,28 Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying, 29 "Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word; 30 for my eyes have seen your salvation, 31 which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, 32 a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel." 33 And the child's father and mother were amazed at what was being said about him. 34 Then Simeon blessed them and said to his mother Mary, "This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed 35 so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too."36 There was also a prophet, Anna the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was of a great age, having lived with her husband seven years after her marriage, 37 then as a widow to the age of eighty-four. She never left the temple but worshiped there with fasting and prayer night and day. 38 At that moment she came, and began to praise God and to speak about the child to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem. 39 When they had finished everything required by the law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee, to their own town of Nazareth. 40 The child grew and became strong, filled with wisdom; and the favor of God was upon him. 

SERMON
For those of you who have been following along rather closely, we’ve been moving chronologically through the life of Jesus, starting back in Advent.  From the annunciation by the angel Gabriel, through Mary’s Magnificat. From the journey of an ordinary couple to Bethlehem, to the birth of Jesus in an unusual and less-than-ideal circumstance.  From Joseph and his family fleeing to Egypt at the threat of Herod’s infant massacre, to the arrival of the wiseman and the celebration of the Epiphany. Over the last few weeks, we heard John the Baptist announce the arrival of one who is greater.  Jesus was baptized in the River and was driven into the wilderness. Last week, Christ called his first disciples. As you might expect, we’ve had some forward chronological momentum as we work our way towards Lent, Holy Week, and Easter.  
But, to keep you on your toes, we embrace the two steps forward, one step backwards dance of our lectionary.  Today we cycle back to Jesus infancy, just weeks, days even, after he was born. And we open the word of God to the moment Jesus was presented in the temple.  Chronologically, we’re jumping several years. Next week we’ll return to Jesus teaching and his sermon on the mount, but for today, we step back.
And there are two reasons for us to do so.  First, we do not know much about Jesus’ childhood, and we have very few texts that reference him as a baby or young child.  Even less are the Sundays in which our texts talk about Jesus as a child. So, when the opportunity presents itself, it is good for us to take a moment and dwell within the Word of God as an infant, indeed a baby.
Second, we jump back in lectionary time because today, Feb. 2, just so happens to be the Feast of the Presentation of Jesus Christ.  And it doesn’t happen often that th Feb. 2 falls on a Sunday, so we today we have to opportunity to celebrate this Feast Day - The Presentation of Jesus Christ.  
In many traditions, this is a significant day on the liturgical calendar, and admittedly, Lutherans are the most impassioned celebrators of the day.  In many cultures, this day is marked with major celebrations and town festivals. There are cultural traditions, with song, dance, and special food. In fact, the Feast Day of the Presentation of Our Lord is one of the oldest known traditions in the Christian church.  
Another name for this Feb. 2 feast day is Candlemas.  Within many religious traditions, it is common for families to bring candles from their homes to have them blessed on this day.  Since light is a significant symbol within the Christian church, the blessing of the candles used in the home and church serves as a reminder that each time the candle is lit, Christ is present.  The light of the world shines in the darkness and the darkness does not overcome it.  
Every year, on Feb. 2, whether we gather for worship or not, the Christian calendar celebrates the Feast of the Presentation of Our Lord, and we read this passage from the gospel of Luke.  
Now I know the liturgical calendar can be confusing, but if you’re a liturgical purist or nerd like some of us, this question is for you.  Why Feb. 2? Why is Feb. 2 the Feast Day for the Presentation of Our Lord? We know Christmas is celebrated for 12 days, starting on Dec. 25.  We know that Epiphany falls on Jan. 6 every year.  So why Feb. 2 for this feast day?
For that, we turn to Jewish law.  Within the laws of Leviticus, it says, 
If a woman conceives and bears a male child, she shall be ceremonially unclean seven days; 3On the eighth day the flesh of his foreskin shall be circumcised. 4 Her time of blood purification shall be thirty-three days; she shall not touch any holy thing, or come into the sanctuary, until the days of her purification are completed.  6 When the days of her purification are completed, she shall bring to the priest at the entrance of the tent of meeting a lamb in its first year for a burnt offering, and a pigeon or a turtledove for a sin offering. 7 He shall offer it before the Lord, and make atonement on her behalf; then she shall be clean from her flow of blood. This is the law for her who bears a child, male or female. 8 If she cannot afford a sheep, she shall take two turtledoves or two pigeons, one for a burnt offering and the other for a sin offering; and the priest shall make atonement on her behalf, and she shall be clean.
On Feb. 2, 40 days after the celebration of Christ’s birth and according to the law of Leviticus, Mary, the mother of Jesus, would present her sacrifice to the priest - a lamb in its first year for a burnt offering, and a pigeon or a dove for a sin offering.  The priest would make atonements on her behalf and she would be made clean. This is why Feb. 2 is the Feast day of the Presentation of Our Lord, because on the 40th day, Mary and Joseph would have taken Jesus and their offering to the temple so that she may be made clean.  And in this moment, as Mary and Joseph adhere to the laws of their faith, Luke introduces us to a man named Simeon and the prophet Anna.
These are brief moments in the overall narrative of Jesus, but they’re important to recognize.  This story is another reminder to us that Jesus was Jewish, born into a humble, well-meaning and devout Jewish household.  Mary and Joseph were obedient and caring, diligent in their practice of the law of Moses. And Jesus, well Jesus was there son.  Flesh of flesh. He was a very real baby with all the quirks, joys, frustrations, and sleepless nights of any other baby. And according to Jewish law, on the eighth day of Jesus’ infancy, he would have been circumcised and named.  According to Numbers 18, on the 31st day of his life, Jesus would have been brought to the Temple to be redeemed. The law states, 
the first issue of the womb of all creatures, human and animal, which is offered to the Lord, shall be yours; but the firstborn of human beings you shall redeem, and the firstborn of unclean animals you shall redeem. 16 Their redemption price, reckoned from one month of age, you shall fix at five shekels of silver.
And on the 40th day of birth, the mother would appear to the priest in the Temple to offer her sacrifice and to be cleansed.  
So, why is this is significant?  Why does this Feast day matter? Well, I think there are two important things for us to glean from this text and this feast day.  The first, is that Jesus was a human being. God took on human flesh, became truly human. God came among us in the very plain, ordinary walk of life.  To a very ordinary, some-what poor, devout family - God was born. Jesus was born in a Jewish household, to Jewish parents, and was raised in Jewish tradition and law.
I think sometimes we tend to hold the incarnation of God at arm’s length.  As a divine moment that is almost inconceivable or relatable.  But we must not forget the confession of our faith in which Christ was born fully human, fully divine.  It’s one of the great doctrines and mysteries of our faith. And it’s an important understanding, because it reminds us that God has acted and continues to act in the ordinary of life.  God knows the daily realities of our lives. God knows the weight of human joy and pain. God knows the agony of defeat and the despair of loss. God entered the ordinary walk of life to offer a new way of life. 
Much like through the ordinary elements of bread and wine, of water and word, God uses these ordinary means to offer grace, forgiveness, and eternal life.  Go uses the plain and ordinary, like you and me, to bring about the kingdom of God. And the promise of the Messiah, Jesus Christ, is that God will continue to bless us in this extraordinary and unbelievable ways.  So I think this moment is significant in our understanding of God’s incarnation - God’s beloved promise to abide within our lives.  
The second important truth that our text teaches us, is that this 40-day old, ordinary baby, Jesus Christ, is God’s son.  Jesus is God incarnate, the salvation for the people, the revelation for the Gentiles. This ordinary tiny human, is the savior of the nations.  The Messiah. The one called for. While Mary and Joseph fulfill the laws and traditions of their faith, God fulfills the promise proclaimed by the prophets and the Angel Gabriel, that this tiny human, God fulfills God’s promise to redeem the world.
There’s this beautiful, but almost haunting moment in today’s text.  It’s the Song of Simeon, the Nunc Dimittis. There was a man named Simeon who was righteous and devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit rested on him. 26 It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord's Messiah.  
To be sure, this is a man who is ready to die.  Following a full, righteous and devout life, he is near death.  But the Spirit of the Lord rests on him and reveals that he will not die until he has seen the Lord’s Messiah.  And so, he waits. Day after day at the Temple he waits. He waits for the Lord. Until the 40th day of Jesus’ life, when Simeon beholds the Lord’s Messiah, takes him into his arms and says,  
Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.  
Having held and beheld God, Simeon’s lifetime of waiting is fulfilled.  And it’s a bit haunting because he sings a song about death. But for Simeon, it’s not simply that he may die, but that he may now die in peace.  Trusting in the fulfillment of God’s promise to redeem Israel. Simeon’s song is an affirmation of the Lord’s peace, gifted to the world, a gift of peace for the people Israel.  Indeed, a light of revelation. The long-awaited Messiah has come to restore God’s people and bring forth the reign of God. Simply beholding the son of God was the assurance of God’s promise fulfilled, which allowed Simeon to now depart in peace.  
Simeon’s song known as the Nunc Dimittis is one of the Christian church’s oldest songs.  It is often sung during evening prayer, vespers, or compline. In fact, every time we gather for worship on a Saturday evening, we sing it within our liturgy.  Do you know when? As communion comes to close, once all have had the opportunity to taste and see that the Lord is good, we sing Simeon’s Song, and the timing is not coincidence.  Once all have held and beheld the grace of God, we sing, “Now Lord, you let your servant go in peace: your word has been fulfilled.  My own eyes have seen the salvation which you have prepared in the sight of every people; a light to reveal you to the nations, and the glory of your people Israel.  Now Lord, you let your servant go in peace.”
Simeon was told by the Spirit that he will not depart until he saw the Lord’s Messiah.  And so Simeon spends his days, weeks, months, who knows how long waiting. Waiting in his old age.  With his physical ailments. With any infirmities. Waiting for this moment. And when he finally beholds the Messiah, he sings a somber yet hope-filled song - and what is beautiful is that he doesn't sing it for his own sake, but rather for the sake of the world.  
That the world around him will now behold the Lord’s Messiah.   The his eyes have seen God’s salvation, which God has prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.”  And with the world now safely enfolded into the care of God’s promise, Simeon can rest in peace.
Few and far between are the liturgical moments to reflect on the infancy of Jesus.  God, in God’s infinite and unconditional love, comes to us in this tiny human, in the ordinary customs and traditions of life, and offers and extraordinary gift for all people - a gift of redemption and freedom, marked with justice and peace.   God is present. Very, really present. And God’s presence is good news for all people, in all times, in all places.
And on this, the 40th day of Jesus’ life, we celebrate the presence of God as the firstborn of Israel, the new lamb, offered as a sacrifice for the redemption of the world.  God’s promise fulfilled. Amen.
©Sermon preached by Pastor Daniel Locke on February 2, 2020 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Church in Jacksonville, FL

Sunday, January 26, 2020

Going Fishing - Sermon on Matthew 4:12-23

Sermon preached by Pastor Daniel Locke on January 26, 2020 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Church in Jacksonville, FL
Listen to the Sermon here

Matthew 4:12-23
12 Now when Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee. 13 He left Nazareth and made his home in Capernaum by the sea, in the territory of Zebulun and Naphtali, 14 so that what had been spoken through the prophet Isaiah might be fulfilled: 15 "Land of Zebulun, land of Naphtali, on the road by the sea, across the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles— 16 the people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned." 17 From that time Jesus began to proclaim, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near." 18 As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. 19 And he said to them, "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people." 20 Immediately they left their nets and followed him. 21 As he went from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John, in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them. 22 Immediately they left the boat and their father, and followed him. 23 Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness among the people.


SERMON
Let me preface today’s sermon by saying I am not a fisherman.  In fact, I have only been fishing a handful of times and I’ve learned that I am most successful if the rod is plastic, the line has a magnet on the end, and I’m trying to catch plastic magnetic fish in a kiddie pool.  I classify fishing as NMG - not my gift.

That being said, I can recall a few impactful experiences that taught me about the art of fishing.  As a boy scout, we once camped out around someone’s pond. One of the reasons for our weekend camping trip was for some folks to work on their fishing merit badge.  So, that evening, our scout master asked who wanted to go fishing in the morning. He offered to wake us up in the morning, and since I had never really gone fishing before, I thought, sure, why not.  When 4 am came, I immediately regretted my decision. Apparently, most fish are active at dusk and dawn. I guess early worm gets the fish, as they say.

My second lesson was that going fishing was not equivalent to going to catch fish.  That same camping trip I learned that you can sit for hours, doing nothing, and get no result. Fishing takes patience.

In high school I was invited to go fishing off the pier at a friend’s lake house.  I’d say that this experience was a bit more successful, but it was also the time I learned that fishing requires attentiveness.  Turns out, you can’t cast the line, lean the pole against the rail and trust the fish would bite and politely wait to be reeled in.  Apparently, fish like to eat on the go. I lost my friends fishing pole. 

Growing up, my dad got me a small tackle box.  Through scouts I had collected two or three bobbers, a few weights, some fun little lures and a variety of hooks.  I felt cool.  That is until I was invited to go fishing with a group of folks from scouts.  I took my cute little tackle box with more cubbies and compartments than things to put in them.  I really liked that when I opened the lid, the top compartment raised on its own, revealing the secret hidden compartment beneath.  Anyways, we arrived and got settled. I sat my box on the bench and opened up slowly so others could take notice.  

Meanwhile, I noticed the leader open what I can only describe as one of those giant metal rolling tool cabinets.  Cabinets lined with hooks and lures. Endless drawers full or artificial bait, bobbers, weights, sinkers, and... well that’s the extent of my fishing accessory knowledge.  He strapped on his sleeveless fishing vest. I was intimidated and overwhelmed. That was the day I learned that there are 1000s of species of fish, and every one of them is different and everyone requires a different approach to successfully catching them.  Fishing takes preparation, careful planning, and creativity.

Fishing, from my limited experience and observation is a profound hobby and sport.  And to be successful, it requires immense patience, perseverance, and experience. It requires that you know the fish that you’re trying to catch and that you have the precise tools necessary.  Successful fishing requires hope and endurance. It even means failing. And, perhaps the most profound lesson I’ve learned is that you absolutely cannot catch a fish if you don’t go fishing in some way or another. 

As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. 19 And he said to them, "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people." 20 Immediately they left their nets and followed him. 21 As he went from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John, in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them. 22 Immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him.

Almost every time I read this text or its parallel in Mark or Luke, I get hung up on the immediacy of the disciples’ following.  How is it that at Jesus’ call and invitation, they drop everything to follow this minority voice of hope. They leave it all behind to be in the footsteps of something new - to take part in the reign of God’s kingdom.  

But, for some reason this week, I was hooked by the prospect of fishing for people.  Pun- intended. The notion that as Christians we are called by Christ to become people who fish for people.  To exhaust the metaphor, we are called to cast to the proclamation of Jesus, to shed light on the dark and dreary world, to offer a message of love, grace, forgiveness, peace and hope that is so lure-ing, that others’ can’t help but bite.  Right, and in Jesus’ day, it was more about casting a wide net in hopes that you might catch a few from the many.

And I’ve found myself so deep in prayer lately about Christ’s invitation to fish for people, mostly because I’m a terrible fisherman.  Fishing takes patience and endurance. It takes perseverance. Fishing takes pride and knowledge of the fish you want to catch. And to optimize success it takes the proper use of gifts and tools.

Now look, I don’t mean to suggest that our call as Christians is to bait and lure, or even deceive people into knowing Christ.  I don’t want to overplay the metaphor.  Rather, I think that to be successful in our call to discipleship, to fully honor the privilege and responsibility of proclaiming the grace-filled reign of God, it might take some practice.  Some patience. Some perseverance. If we understand our call from Jesus through the shores of the baptismal font to go forth in the name of Christ to make disciples then at some point we have to at least go fishing, trusting in God to guide us.

Our gospel text today marks the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry.  Following Jesus’ birth, he fled to Egypt for safety with his parents, he was baptized by John in the river.  The spirit descended upon him like a dove and drove him to the wilderness where he was tempted by the devil, and now he withdraws to Galilee and the area of Capernaum.  And it’s here that he begins his public ministry within the gospel according to Matthew.  

And our gospel text opens with a stark reminder of the hostile and tumultuous time that Jesus emerges.  Again, Matthew writes, “Now when Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee.” John the Baptist, the one who came crying in the wilderness, “prepare the way of the Lord.”  The one who pointed to the Messiah and the one who is greater. John, who baptized Jesus in the river and pointed his followers to Christ, has been arrested by Herod.  
Now we won’t hear the story of John’s beheading this year, but within the other gospel narratives we can recall that John the Baptist was beheaded at the request of Herod’s stepdaughter Salome, influenced by her mother, Herodias.  Ultimately, it is a testament to Herod’s rage and violent temperament, sparked by John convicting Herod for divorcing his wife to take his brother’s wife.  

Jesus continues to live and move in the territory of a violent, tyrannous rulers.  In Jesus day, the region around Galilee was ruled by Herod Antipas. He was the son of Herod the Great, the one who tried to manipulate the wisemen into telling him where Jesus was.  Who, ultimately tried to have the baby Jesus murdered. Herod Antipas was known for his brutal nature and his utter intolerance for anyone who may threaten his power.   

Furthermore, the region of Galilee was under Roman Imperial Rule.  The roman rule was an oppressive force that affected a large portion of the population.  Most common citizens relied on brutal, physical, labor-intensive work to support their way of life.  But excessive, unjust taxes suppressed the fruits of their labor. Therefore, many also lived in poverty - void of basic life-sustaining needs.

The kingdom in which they lived was not necessarily one of hope or joy.   It is riddled with intimidation from authority, submission to the Roman Imperial rule, and a longing for the fulfillment of their ancestral promise. 

This is the power of the day that Jesus initiates God’s reign.  While there is a need to be diligent and careful in his ministry, God through Jesus has come to proclaim the presence of a new kingdom, a kingdom ruled by grace, forgiveness, justice, and love.  Jesus is the light of hope, freedom, and justice that is to shine as a light in the darkness of oppressive rule.

This is the time and place to which Jesus as a light to the darkness, proclaiming the promise of the Kingdom of God, a reign of hope, justice, mercy, and grace.  God, through Jesus, has come to offer salvation to God’s people. To raise up the lowly and cast down the mighty. To heal the sick, clothe the naked, feed the hungry, make the blind to see and the mute to speak.  To bring good news to the poor, release to the captives, and to set the oppressed free.  
And one of Jesus’ first actions is to invite others to follow, to risk it all and experience a new way of life.  Inviting them to come and see. 

As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. 19 And he said to them, "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people." 20 Immediately they left their nets and followed him. 21 

When Jesus invites the disciples to come and follow, our translation says, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.”  This translation can make it sound as though fishing for people were a task to be completed. And if you’re like me, that’s terrifying, because as you recall, fishing is not my gift.

But thanks be to God, Jesus’ invitation is a richer than our translation might seem   In fact, a better understanding of the invitation might be to say, “Follow me, and I will make you to become fishers for people.”   In this translation fishing for people is no longer a task, but rather becoming fishers of people is a new identity. Jesus invites us to come and see, to participate and learn about the work for the kingdom.  Christ promises to equip the ones who will be doing the fishing. It is to become their new identity. 

They are to become fishers of people.  In a world desperate for the hope of something better, Christ calls and invites these disciples to use their gifts and abilities for the furtherment of the kingdom of God. This is the kind of discipleship that you and I are called to as well

Despite our anxieties or doubts or fears, Christ confidently calls us to be disciples.  To become fishers or people, casting the good news of the light of Christ to all people, all times, and in all places.   And the good news, especially for someone who is not keen on fishing, it is not about us. It’s not about what you or I do.  

It’s about what God does through us.  Using our God given, gifts, abilities, experiences, to cast the story of faith, to fan the spark of hope to a world deeply in need of healing.  And successful fishing, to be sure, successful discipleship is not measured in the number of fish you catch, but rather the passion and commitment to the craft.  True discipleship takes time, patience, endurance, knowledge, experience, trust, and hope.  

Jesus entered the world at a tumultuous time.  God, the Emmanuel, came forth so that the people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned.  It was true then and it is true today.

And, as I understand it, most fishermen and women don’t just go fishing in order to catch something, but rather they often go fishing, because they’re people who fish, and fishing is what fishermen and women do.  

Amen.

©Sermon preached by Pastor Daniel Locke on January 26, 2020 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Church in Jacksonville, FL


Monday, January 13, 2020

Identity and Promise - Sermon on Baptism of Our Lord Sunday - Matt. 3:13-17

Sermon preached by Pastor Daniel Locke on January 12, 2020 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Church in Jacksonville, FL
Listen to the Sermon here

Matthew 3:13-17

13 Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. 14 John would have prevented him, saying, "I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?" 15 But Jesus answered him, "Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness." Then he consented. 16 And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and alighting on him.17 And a voice from heaven said, "This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased."


SERMON
As pastors, I think we’re discouraged from picking favorites.  I know it’s not the right thing to do, and it’s not fair to give preference to one over another.  But I need to be honest and tell you that I think Baptism is my favorite sacrament of the Lutheran sacraments. At least, for right now.  

To be fair, both sacraments, Baptism and Holy communion are abundant expressions of God’s grace.  In both, the graciousness of God’s mercy and the promise of abundant life are freely given.  Both are gifts to God’s people in which God again affirms the promise that all might have life and have it abundant.  Both are affirmations of God’s forgiveness of sins.  Both are important and both are foundation to the life of the community of faith.  But, I have to say, there is something about Baptism that warms for soul and affirms my faith.  Something about the water that draws me into the arms of our maker, healer, and redeemer.

Baptism gives us identity.  Identity in Christ.  Identity as children of God.  And forever and ever, there isn’t a thing that can diminish, remove, or compromise that identity.  The font is where the labels of the world wash away.  The font stands as the foundation of our inheritance to life and life eternal.  God created.  God claims.  God names.  In the waters of salvation, all doubts of who we are are washed away.  In the sacrament of the water, God names us beloved.  And everything else about our lives ripples out from the fundamental, grace-filled truth.

On one of my first Sunday here 2.5 years ago, I was standing in the back by the font before worship and in came Pastor Bernie Jorn.  We had only met once before at the Oktoberfest meet and greet before I was called, and we had had a brief conversation on the phone about supplying at St. Mark’s.  But other than that, we didn’t really know much about each other.  And as I stood there waiting to start the announcements at 9:30, he came through the door and he said, “Good morning.”  Good morning, I said.  Then he looked at the me, then the font, then me, and he said “Hey, would you mind splashing me.”

It caught me off guard because while I safely assumed he meant, will you touch the water with your thumb and make the sign of the cross on my forehead...it took everything in me not to take a handful of water and pour it on his head and say, “Pastor Bernie Jorn, remember that you are named and claimed in the waters of life, sweet child of God, and nothing will ever change that.”

Since then, every single time Pastor Bernie passes the font he invites me or someone else to splash water on him.  And there are lot of us who do the same.  When we pass from the Narthex to the Nave, or we leave worship and process into the world we dip our fingers in the water, cross our forehead and remember our baptism. 

And if you don’t do it, or haven’t thought about it, I invite you to try it today.  Anytime you pass that font, feel free to at least touch the water and remember who and whose you are. 

That moment with Pastor Jorn several years ago was so powerfully to me, not only because it’s a privilege and honor to remind someone of their baptism and the love of God that has claimed them…but to enter and leave worship through the water of the font is a statement to the world that no other name, label, identifier, club, organization, political affiliation, stereotype, or otherwise can come close to redefining your identity in Christ.  

Remembering your baptism at the start of worship is to reclaim the gift of grace extended to you and me.  To remember that all things will fade away.  All the hats we wear can be removed and set aside.  All the labels and qualifiers of the world are human made and exist to separate us from one another and ourselves.  But that water, that holy sacrament is a proclamation to the world that when all is stripped away, I am claimed by God.  I am God’s child.  I am beloved.  And the water unites us with Christ and with one another. 

To splash in the water is to tell the world that I belong to God.  God chooses me.  God chooses us.  And try as hard as we might to label and define one another, nothing holds a candle to the one and only who saves us.  The one and only who grants us life.  The one and only who claims us as children, as beloved.  

I want to pose a question for your reflection.  Ignite some self-curiosity if you will.  Plant a seed of self-assessment and discernment.  And if you were with us a few months ago, I put forth a similar question and actually invited you to write your answers down.  If you recall, I gave you the prompt “I am..” and invited you to fill in the blank.  Similarly, today, I want us to consider what it is that defines us.   What labels do we model, or better yet what brands us?  When you meet a stranger, who knows nothing about you, what might their impression be. 

Our world and our culture are proud on labeling and categorizing people, aren’t we?  It’s amazing that even the seemingly innocent things we do that can cause us to be defined, labeled, and prejudged.  Especially when you start thinking about the choices, we make in life that begin to define us to others.  The clothes we wear or the jersey we put on.  The car we drive or the bumper stickers we slap on the back.  Our political affiliations and ambitious, the groups we belong to and the organizations we support.  There are so many labels the world has created to define us.  

So, what is that defines you?  I often think about NASCAR cars.  Personally, I’m not a NASCAR fan, but we can all picture NASCAR cars, right?  They’re covered in labels and stickers and images and sponsorship.  And as the car goes around and round for 4 hours, you can’t help but see the relationships and organizations they support.  But, if you peel all of those labels back, and strip the car down, it’s only a car.  And if we think about our lives in a similar way, what labels and brands describe us, and when they’re all peeled back, who are we?  When someone meets you for the first or hundredth time, what labels has the world impressed upon you?

In the gospel according to Matthew, Matthew is working hard to leave no doubt within the world as to who Jesus is.  From his exhaustive lineage in chapter 1, to the multiple references to prophecy through chapter 2, to Jesus’ baptism, the descending dove, and the voice from heaven proclaiming Jesus as God’s son, in whom God is well pleased.  

Matthew wants there to be no doubt among his audience that this guy, Jesus, is the one called for.  He is the one longed for.  He is the Messiah, the great king of kings and lord of lords.  He is the wonderful, counselor, Mighty God, and prince of peace.  He is God’s son.  Emmanuel - God has come near to us.  And he shall be the savior of the people.  All of God’s people.  Matthew wants to ensure that there is no question about his identity.

And I think that deep down, when I splish and splash in the waters of life back there.  
When I touch the water to my forehead and recall my baptism, I think deep down I first lament and confess that the world may have doubts about who and whose I am.  And I desperately long for the world to have no doubt about my identity as a Christian.  As God’s child.  God’s beloved.   As Christians, washed in the waters of new life, should we too be about the word of God so that there is absolutely NO doubt as to who we are.  More importantly, whose we are.  

In the waters of baptism, God claims us as God’s children.  Marked with the cross of Christ, Sealed by the holy spirit.  The heavens torn apart; the Spirit descends.  God makes us heirs of God’s promised salvation.  God’s victory over death. God folds us into the story of compassion, love, grace, peace, and forgiveness.  God clothes us in mercy.  And NOTHING, absolutely nothing, thank God, can change the life we have in God.   Our identity, in the most holistic sense is inextricably connected to God.

And out of the waters, our new identity ought to define the world - not the other way around.  Everything else in our lives ought to be an expression of that grace.  A testament to that gift.  A ripple.  

On Nov. 11, 1943, Martin Luther was baptized in Eisleben Germany at the church of St. Peter and St. Paul.  The church was refurbished several years ago, and when they renovated the inside of the church, they did one of the coolest things.  One of the most powerful images of baptism I have ever seen.   In the front and center of the church, they placed a baptismal font in the floor.  It’s a big, deep font in which someone could easily be submerged.  And in the concrete floors of the church they etched concentric circles all rippling out from the font.  So that, no matter where you sat or stood in the church, you were within the ripples of the font.  It’s incredibly beautiful and I put in on a slide for you to see in Hart Hall.  

This is such a powerful image of Baptism, because try as hard as we might, we absolutely cannot escape the waters of our identity.  We are God’s children, grafted into gracious gift of eternal life, wading in the ripple of salvation.  In the waters God washes away the divisions of world.  Race, ethnicity, sex, gender. All the marks of human-made division fail in the grace of God to offer salvation in this holy sacrament.

We are called to be a member of the body, working for justice and peace in all the world.  We are called to proclaim who is greater, to point to the great I am, to tell of a love so deep and rich.  Called to extend compassion for the less fortunate, advocacy for the lost, and respite for the wandering.  God’s grace-filled claim on God’s people never, never fades away.  Never expires. No label of the world can supersede “Beloved child of God.”

And here is the beautiful thing, when we lose sight of who and whose we are...when the world would work to convince us otherwise, we remember that in the waters of the life also come the promise of the community.  We are not alone.  As members of the body of Christ, we are inextricably connected to one another always called to reflect Christ to others.   And I think it’s so important for us to remember that.  And if ever there were a day to be reminded, it’s today.  

Do me a favor, pull out your cranberry ELW and turn to page 228.  Page numbers at the bottom.  Hymn numbers at the top. 

*At this point I left the pulpit and my sermon to read through the promises of baptism and the communal renunciations.  The sermon closed at the baptismal font where I challenged everyone with two actions:
1) Contact someone in your life you fulfilled the baptismal promises for you
2) Fulfill the promises of baptism for someone else in your life.

©Sermon preached by Pastor Daniel Locke on January 12, 2020 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Church in Jacksonville, FL

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Sunday, September 8, 2019

What Does It Cost You? - Sermon on Luke 14:25-33

Listen to the sermon here. 

Luke 14:25-33
25 Now large crowds were traveling with him; and he turned and said to them,26 "Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple.27 Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.28 For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it?29 Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it will begin to ridicule him,30 saying, "This fellow began to build and was not able to finish.'31Or what king, going out to wage war against another king, will not sit down first and consider whether he is able with ten thousand to oppose the one who comes against him with twenty thousand?32 If he cannot, then, while the other is still far away, he sends a delegation and asks for the terms of peace.33 So therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.

SERMON
“When Christ calls a human, he bids him come and die.”   These are no doubt powerful words. Anybody familiar with that quote?  Do you know who wrote it? “When Christ calls a human, he bids him come and die.”  When put into context, these words are all the more powerful.

In 1937, at the height of the Nazi Regime, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote a well known book called “The Cost of Discipleship.”  Bonhoeffer was German pastor and theologian, and perhaps most well know for his resistance and opposition to the Nazi party.  From the beginning, Bonhoeffer publically and passionately opposed the Nazi party. Even more so, he was deeply troubled by the misuse of the gospel message and power of Christianity to justify mass genocide.  He was worried that the secularization of faith and grace was a cause for complacency and indifference - that the cost of our salvation was taken for granted, that forgiveness was an endless gift, and therefore and failure or shortcoming as disciples of Christ was shrugged away under the gift of grace.  He called this cheap grace. Grace that is abused and taken for granted. Grace that abounds despite our own sinfulness, our indifference, our hatred, and inability to act.

So, Bonhoeffer spoke adamantly of costly grace.  Grace that convicts us to live into the crucifixion of Jesus and rise again to work towards the kingdom of God, despite the costs.

In his book, he wrote. “Costly grace is the gospel which must be sought again and again and again, the gift which must be asked for, the door at which a man must knock. Such grace is costly because it calls us to follow, and it is grace because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ.

 It is costly because it costs a man his life, and it is grace because it gives a man the only true life. It is costly because it condemns sin, and grace because it justifies the sinner. Above all, it is costly because it cost God the life of his Son: 'Ye were bought at a price', and what has cost God much cannot be cheap for us. Above all, it is grace because God did not reckon his Son too dear a price to pay for our life, but delivered him up for us. Costly grace is the Incarnation of God.” 

In the mid 1930s, despite being a vocal and public opposition to the work and belief of the Nazis, Bonhoeffer returned to Germany.  For several years to risk his life traveling from town to town, educating and training clergy and church leaders in underground seminaries.  By 1940, he was shut down by the Gestapo. Banned from Berlin. He was silenced.

He accepted a job at Union Theological Seminary in the US, where he would be safe from persecution.  But within a few short years he said, “I have come to the conclusion that I made a mistake in coming to America. I must live through this difficult period in our national history with the people of Germany. I will have no right to participate in the reconstruction of Christian life in Germany after the war if I do not share the trials of this time with my people ... .I must choose but I cannot make that choice from security.”  

By his convictions as a Christian, and at a cost, he returned to Germany to proclaim the gospel and the grace of Christ.  He was silenced. Harassed. Arrested. Imprisoned in concentration camps. And eventually he was hanged.  

“When Christ calls a human, he bids him come and die.” 

I suppose today’s reading calls to question, what is the cost of being a disciple.  What does it cost to be a Christian. To be a follower of Christ. And I mean that seriously, myself included, what does it cost us to be disciples and followers of Christ?

You don’t have to answer out loud if for no other reason than I don’t know what my own answer would be.  And to be clear, I’m not talking about an hour in worship and a few hours a week of service. I’m not talking about your 10% tithe or charitable giving.  It’s so much more. And it’s what Jesus talks about in front of a large crowd today, what does it cost to be a follower. A disciple.

And I would venture to guess, that once most of us had a chance to think about it, the answer would frankly be “nothing.”  It doesn't really cost us anything. Being a Christian, being a disciple is not in and of itself a risky endeavor. On a day-to-day basis, it cost most of us nothing to be a part of the body of Christ. 

Since baptism, God claimed us and named us, grafted us into the body of Christ.  Into the one mission we share. We were called to be God’s children. And from that day forward, we’re Christians, followers of Jesus, free to invest as much or as little of ourselves, our time, and our possessions as we choose.  And we can be as Christian as we want without it costing us a thing.

But, given today’s text, shouldn’t it cost us something to follow Christ?  Should there be some sense of risk involved? Why doesn’t our discipleship stir up a bit of trepidation or hesitation?  Is following Christ really that...easy?

The word “follow” has taken on such a different meaning in the context of today’s world.  Our cultural and social media dominate life has almost redefined what it means to follow. With the click of a button you can follow almost anyone you want.  And just as easy you can broadcast all of your life for anyone in the world to follow you. Status is gained by having a higher number of followers.  

When we think about Instagram, Facebook, twitter...whatever it is, we are invited to follow the lives of whomever we want.  Famous movie stars, and athletes. Musicians, friends, hobbyists...whomever. With one click we become a follower. A subscriber. 

More importantly, we follow at a distance.  We can watch their every move, read and hear what they have to say, we can like or ignore whatever we do or don’t support.  We follow at a convenient distance. We become subscribers of content.   And the larger the following the more powerful the person we follow.  But this sense of following is actually simply observation, empty and vain.  And it cost us nothing.  

In today’s Gospel text Jesus continues his journey to Jerusalem.  Word has spread about the things he has done and said. People continue to gather around him and the crowds follow.  Now we don’t know how big the crowd was, but it was big enough for the gospel writer to make mention of it. Jesus turns to them all and offers some very blunt words about what is at stake if they desire to be his follower.  

After all, Jesus has his eyes on Jerusalem, where he’ll be arrested, beaten, tried, and crucified.  This journey is not for simple onlookers, marginal observers, and curious inquires. No, Jesus is ushering in a new reign of God, a kingdom that will rattle the foundations of the known world, unsettle the bedrock of the cultural, societal, and political norms.  And if, IF you desire to continue to follow Jesus, you must be honest about what lies ahead, and that it might cost you your very life. 

“When Christ calls a human, he bids him come and die.”

In Jesus’ day, it really was a costly decision to follow Christ.  I think we too often make light of it because in the beginning of the gospel Christ calls and the disciples drop everything and follow.  No big deal.  

But the reality was, following Jesus often meant encountering conflict...with family, friends, coworkers.  It meant forsaking or changing your life-long beliefs about the Messiah and what to expect.  It meant denouncing the ways of a sinful world, challenging powerful systems, venturing to hostile territories, dining with sinners, accompanying the unclean, caring for the oppressed, loving the last and least, finding the lost, and healing the broken. 

Following Jesus truly and literally meant following in his footsteps.  It meant, as the definition goes, paying close attention to Jesus, acting according to his example, conforming to his ways, and striving for his witness.  Following Jesus meant you were bid to come and die. Die to the old ways of life, be transformed by his radical witness of love and justice, and live in proclamation of God’s kingdom.  

So when we ask ourselves what does it cost us to be a disciple and follower of Christ and our answer is nothing, then I think we must re-encounter the gospel message, reassess Christ’s call to come and follow, reevaluate our identity as Christians.   I suspect that when Jesus laid out the cost of being a disciple to the crowd, several people turned around and said never mind. I bet they went on home where life felt safer, easier, and more content.  

Friends, being a Christian, a disciple, a follower of Christ is not something we should take lightly or for granted.  Because the truth is, the call to discipleship has in fact cost us our lives.  

In the waters of baptism we drown to the old way of living and rise again, claimed and named into a new way of life.    And baptism isn’t simply a Rite of initiation. We don’t haphazardly click subscribe to be a Christians and follow safely from a distance.   Leaning in when convenient or beneficial. Stepping back when too risky. 

No, we’re in the thick of it.  IN the footsteps of our radical, counter-cultural Messiah, we’re on a journey to Jerusalem, where our very lives are stake.  Believing in the death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus changes the way we see the world. Being washed in the waters of costly grace and fed at the holy banquet table, where we receive a foretaste of the feast to come transforms the way we live out our life.  Our calling. Our discipleship.  

And in part, that’s exactly what God’s Work. Our Hands day is about.  It’s not just a time of church wide service. It’s not simply about giving our time and resources to intentional serve our neighbor.  God’s Work. Our Hands. Is intended to be a public affirmation...a re-affirmation really that we are called, claimed, named, and appointed disciples of Christ.  

As followers of Christ we don’t just choose to get our hands and feet dirty in the muck of the world, we absolutely cannot help but engage with the brokenness of the world.  
As followers of Christ we cannot help but forsake the lifelong teachings of sinful world, Can’t help but denounce sin, death, devil, and all the forces that defy God.  

We cannot help but challenge unjust systems of power, venture into hostile territory, break bread with sinners, accompany the unclean, care for the oppressed, and love the last and least.  We cannot help but heal the broken and care for creation.

And the truth is, this calling may cost us everything.  Following Christ, being a disciple may cost us everything.  And for many of the apostles and early church leaders, it did.  It cost them their lives.  

My siblings in Christ, our world is bent, broken, oppressed, and in desperate need of healing.  And as the church, the incarnation of God’s costly grace, we absolutely must engage. We must pick of the cross, take the risk, and harken Christ’s bid to come and die. 

Because through death is the promise of resurrection.  And at the cost of following Christ, God promises hope.  God promises forgiveness. God promises grace. God promises everlasting life.  And thanks be to God, it is freely given. 

Amen.

 © Pastor Daniel Locke, Preached on Sept. 8, 2019 @ St. Mark's Lutheran JAX, FL

Sunday, May 19, 2019

That's the Power of Love - Sermon on Luke 13:31-35

Listen to the sermon here. 

John 13:31-35
31 When he had gone out, Jesus said, "Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him.32 If God has been glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once.33 Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me; and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you, "Where I am going, you cannot come.'34 I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.35 By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." 

SEMRON 
Love one another.  Amen? Easy enough.  Amen! 

Did you know that the longest sermon ever preached is 53 hours and 11 minutes.  Yes, you heard me, 53 hours 18 minutes. 3 days of preaching. Now I couldn’t verify it as a certified Guinness World Record, but that’s the claim.  In fact, several reputable news outlets reported the even. 53 hours. 

These are the kind of things you find when Google sucks you in and your mind wanders.  And so I kid you not, it was widely reported that in November of 2014, a 31 year old pastor named Zach, preached a sermon...never stopping for more than 30 seconds...to a rotating crowd of people in, get this, Mount Dora, FL.  Practically in our backyard.

53 hours and 18 minutes.  Now, to be fair, in an interview, Zach clarifies that his motivation was not only to proclaim the word of God, but it was to raise awareness and money for a local organization.  

So my friends, sit back, and relax, order some pizza, I think today is a good day to chase the record.  53 hours and 19 minutes. Joking, sort of. 

So, like you, I found myself wondering, “What does someone even talk about for 53 hours?”  Thankfully the interviewer asked this question. Pastor Zach said, “I chose to speak on the Bible and kind of cover the entirety of the story from Genesis to Revelation.  My goal of the whole sermon was to talk about God's ridiculous commitment to God’s people, even though we give up on God that God never gave up on us.” 

53 hours on the theme of God’s ridiculous commitment to God’s people despite our failure.   Now I didn’t read the transcript, but if I interpret the theme correctly and paraphrase just a bit, it seems to me that the entire preaching event was about God’s love for God’s people.  It was about the love of God. A love we are desperate for. A love we are not worthy of. And a love we would do well to learn, receive, and imitate. Love!

There’s the classic tale of a preacher giving the shorte sermon on record.  Obviously, there is no exact record holder, but I’m sure you’ve heard the tale.  Preacher steps into the pulpit. Looks intently across the congregation. Takes a breath and says one word.  Love. Then sits down.

The world’s longest sermon and the world’s shortest.  And when you parse it all out, it seems the theme is the same.  Love. I mean no disrespect to my brother preacher, but you gotta wonder, why in the world use 53 hours of words when one will do?  On average, a person speaks 125 words a minute. That’s 400,000 words, amplifying a theme of love. And here’s the crazy thing, neither had a more powerful message than the other.  Neither was more right. Neither is more theologically brilliant or insightful. Love is love is love. Be loved. Now love one another. Love. Amen?

Beyond raising money for a good organization, why the exhaustive lesson on God’s love?  The more I thought about it, the more I came to realize, because there are times in our lives when we need to hear again and again,  and I mean, 400,000 times, how loved we are. How loved you are. How powerful love can be. Love of a God for God’s people. A passionate, dedicated, ridiculously committed God...who would even take on death...gruesome, humiliating, painful, and tragic death...for the sake of those whom God loves.  You and me.

And sometimes we are so broken.  So beaten. So jaded, torn, distraught, misguided, abused, and neglected. That it takes some repeating.  Maybe even 400,000 reminders that you are loved. 

“I give you a new commandment, Jesus says, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”

Anybody hear the old Nat King Cole classic from 1948?  Nature Boy. It’s been covered so many times, but in the final line, Nat so smoothly sings, “The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.”  

This new commandment to love one another happens on Christ’s final night with his disciples.  Our small excerpt occurs within a larger story, a story we typically hear on Maundy Thursday. Christ gathers for a meal with his closest friends.  He removes his outer robe, takes on the role of a servant and washes their feet. Then he dines with them. He offers bread and wine, as body and blood of a new covenant.  He even shares the cup with Judas who will soon betray him. And just as Judas leaves, we hear today's text. “Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.” 

Here’s an honest, vulnerable question.  Is there anyone among us who would argue with Christ’s command to love?  Anyone stand in opposition to Christ’s command, that perhaps love...love for each other and our neighbor is not the way of Christ and the root of our Christian calling?  Any objections?

No of course not.  And why would there be.  Why oppose love? I believe each and everyone of us understand that our call as Christians, as people of God, as believers and witnesses is to love.  As Christ loved us, we should love one another. That makes sense, doesn’t it? 
Seems like an easy and common sense concept right?  Seems like a quality characteristic we might aspire too.  Surely we want to be known and remembered for our love. After all, if God is love, and we are created in God’s image...if Christ teaches and commands us to love...if love is the foundation of our faith and the theme of our Christian narrative...

Then why is it so gosh darn hard for us to love one another as Christ loved us?  Now hear me out. I am not suggesting that anyone among us is void of love. Or lacks the ability to love.  Each and everyone of us is loving, and I’m sure we each have a list of people to attest to that fact. But, let’s be honest….we all at times, whether we mean to or not, show partiality in our love.  

I think we’re all guilty of cherry picking who we love.  Choosing to go against our being and Christ’s command by withholding love when it comes to loving as Christ loved us.

And to be clear, we’re not talking about familial love or brother love.  Love between friends, neighbors, colleagues, and families. There are specific words for that type of love in the original greek.  The love that Jesus commands is agape love. Selfless, sacrificial love. 

Agape is to have love for someone, based on sincere appreciation and high regard...it’s not a love rooted in emotion or feeling.  It’s a love rooted in the preservation and dignity of life. A willingness to humble yourself to lift up another. An intentional and imbedded sacrifice for the sake of the other.   To empty yourself, pouring out for another, with absolutely no reason, motivation, or incentive other than that is who you are created to be.

We might say that such a level of love.  Agape love, seems to be the exception in our society and culture.  Selfless, sacrificial, non-incentivized love is the exception. And Christ calls us to not only receive such love, but to reflect back to the world as well.

So why is it so hard?  Why do we struggle? What within us causes us to put conditions or incentives on love?  It’s easy for me to say that I love everyone, but the truth is it is just as easy for me to justify and convince myself into withholding love.  And the true confession, friends, is that love seems easiest when the other person either looks just like me, or I know that I have something to gain from offering love.

Why is it so hard to love as Christ loves us and as Christ commands.  Are we afraid to be vulnerable? Are we scared we won’t be loved in return.  Maybe we prefer not to be so selfless? Maybe we fear there isn’t enough love to go around.  How can I be so selfless to so many?

I think it ultimately comes down to power, and a fear of giving up our power.  You see, to love as Christ loved is to relinquish power. To humble yourself in order to raise up another.  To remove any power you may hold. Because when we withhold agape love, we deem someone unworthy or unfit of love.  That’s a power move. An abuse of power, even. To have something to give or offer, and to say, I’d rather not offer it for you is a power play.  And God knows, it’s hard to give up power.

This is what makes Christ example of love so radical.  Christ never withheld love. In fact, on the night of our text, Christ removed his outer robe, put on a towel and took on the role of a servant.  Humbled himself before his followers and friends, even those whom we may argue you were unworthy. And Christ washed their feet. He had nothing to gain.  

This what makes Christ’s sacrifice on the cross so radical.  He gave up everything, including his own life, with nothing to gain, for the sake of the world.  Even in his final breaths, Christ prayed for forgiveness for those whom we may argue were unworthy.  

This is Christ’s example of agape love, and holy smokes, we’re called to do the same?  It’s no wonder we struggle with such love. 

There is no weakness if relinquishing power.  In fact, there is power is weakness. Power in vulnerability.  Power in sacrificial, unconditional, Christ-commanded love.

There is power in such love, because loving one another as Christ love us means restoring, preserving, and celebrating the life and dignity of all God’s children.  
It means equality and equity are the norm, not the exception.  
It means acts of generosity and mercy are the norm not the exception.  
It means that siblings take precedent.  
It means we are no longer motivated by fear of the unknown or the other. 
It means health, wholeness, and justice upstage profit and self-interest.  It means empowering the hungry, homeless, last, least, and lost, challenging the systems of oppressive power and preferential love. 
It means washing the foot of unworthy, affirming the unfit, forgiving the unforgivable, and becoming one of the least of these.

In the power of such love, everyone will know that we are Christ’s disciples.  In the power of such love the first heaven and the first earth pass away, as John reveals, and God will dwell among us in the kingdom of God.  Every tear will be wiped away. Death will be no more. Mourning and crying and pain will ease. All things will be made new. 

So, it may seem fair to ask, how do we love as Christ loved?  
First, you dip your fingers in the water of the font, you taste the bread and wine, and you remember that you are loved.  And even more so, you are worthy of Christ’s love. Now and Always. 

Second, we confess that we have not loved with our whole hearts and not loved our neighbors as ourselves.   

Third, you hear the words of forgiveness and acknowledge that you do not have to love perfectly in order to love powerfully.  

Lastly, remember and affirm that love and the power of love are gifts from our grace-filled God.   There is no and will never be any shortage of love. 

As much as you pour our love, God fills you again and again.  And so you love, love, and love some more until the Kingdom of God is fully at hand and Christ’s glorious name is proclaimed by all.

Amen. 

© Pastor Daniel Locke, preached May 19, 2019 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Jacksonville, FL