You are Salt and Light - Sermon on Matthew 5:13-20

Sermon preached by Pastor Daniel Locke on February 09, 2020 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Church in Jacksonville, FL

Listen to the Sermon here: 

Matthew 5:13-20 

13 "You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot. ¹⁴ "You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. ¹⁵ No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. ¹⁶ In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven. ¹⁷ "Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. ¹⁸ For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished. ¹⁹ Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. ²⁰ For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. 

SERMON

On the North shore of the Sea of Galilee, as the small hills climb right out of the water there is a small town called Capernaum. The small town on the North East edge of Galilee became well-tread territory within the public ministry of Jesus.  It’s near these shores that Jesus called his first disciples, ate fish for breakfast with Peter, calmed the storm, and fed the crowds. This is holy ground to be sure. And today, from the sea of Galilee, as you climb the hill side full of banana trees, there is a Roman Catholic Church known as the Church of the Beatitudes.  It is a beautiful church with an incredible view. And it is there that Christian history remembers the beatitudes and Jesus’ profound moment of teaching known as the Sermon on the Mount. Research says that the natural curve of the landscape would have made for great acoustics for Jesus to teach and the shade from large trees would make it appealing for listeners to sit and learn.

This is one of the many sites we’ll visit when we take our trip to the Holy Land in October.  It’s the site from which our gospel text comes this morning.

And as we dive in, I want to say a quick word about where we are and why the Sermon on the Mount is so important.  I mentioned last week that we’ve been following the life of Jesus in a chronological sense. From the Advent of his conception, through the birth narrative and baptism, through calling his first disciples and beginning his earthly teaching ministry.  Today we continue that chronology as we Jesus gathers on the Galilean hillside to teach, and it marks a significant shift within Jesus’ ministry.

You see, in chapter four of Matthew’s gospel, once Jesus has been baptized and called his first disciples, the text tells us that he 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. 

Then it says, “His fame spread throughout all Syria, and they brought to him all the sick, those who were afflicted with various diseases and pains, demoniacs, epileptics, and paralytics, and he cured them. 25 And great crowds followed him. 

In today’s understanding, we might say that Jesus has traveled from town to town playing all the local coffee shops and small venues.  His name and reputation is spreading. And now, after much proclamation and teaching, rather than going town to town to meet the people, the people have come to him.  His proclamation of hope, demeanor of love and acceptance and his power to heal have drawn the interest and desperation of the crowds. They now follow and press upon him.  

And in the 5th chapter of Matthew, it tells us that when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. Then he began to speak and taught them.  With the crowds growing in overwhelming numbers, the time had come for the disciples to understand and accept the responsibility of their discipleship.  

The implication within Matthew’s text is that he is teaching the disciples.  But certainly, we can presume the crowds are close enough that they can hear him also.  And through the teaching moment, Jesus is educating and equipping his disciples for the full weight of the ministry to which they’ve been called.  

Telling them not who they should become, ought to become, might think about becoming, or here try this...but rather telling them who they are now.  Discipleship without action is not discipleship. Disciple as a noun is good and well, but to be a disciple of Jesus is to embrace the verb, to go about the work of being a disciple.  Discipling. And Jesus calls the disciples, indeed us, to so much more. By the nature of being a disciple, they carry a great privilege and responsibility within the ministry of God’s kingdom.  Called with reason. Claimed for a purpose.

And this section of passage is incredibly significant.  For one, it is the longest continuous teaching by Jesus in all of scripture.  Three chapters in fact of Jesus teaching on an array of subjects. And because of that, this is one of the most well-known and highly quoted portions of scripture.  

Jesus’ sermon on the mount is powerful discourse, not only about the glory of the kingdom of God and God’s grace-filled redemption God’s people, but it is also a lengthy discourse on the role, the identity, and the responsibility of being disciple.  What it means to be disciples. These chapters are an impactful commentary on what discipleship in action looks like and the responsibility of the call. 

So, Jesus says, YOU!  You are salt of the earth.  You are the light of the world.  You are. Not you should be. You could be. Or, you ought to be.  But, you ARE the light of the world. You are salt of the earth. And salt that has lost its taste cannot be restored.  It is thrown out and trampled upon. And light shines to give vision. Clarity. And Direction. No one lights a lamp and then immediately covers it.  A light by purpose is lit to shine and reveal. You are light. You are salt. 

What does Jesus mean?

Salt, in Jesus’ day was an incredibly important commodity.  It was necessary to their daily life, and not something to be taken for granted.  They would harvest salt by pouring water from the dead sea into big pits or cistern to let it evaporate, leaving only salt.  Salt, as it does today, had a wealth of purposes. Salt was used not simply to season food but to preserve it as well. When rubbed on food it preserves the meat and stops slows the process of decay.  It prevents corruption. Salt was used to treat wounds. The law of Leviticus instructs the use of Salt in religious sacrifice. Scripture talks about the use of salt in making covenants and establishing relationships.  Salt is a valuable product of trade. Even newborn babies were said to have been washed in salt. 

Light was also a necessity.  Obviously, without light, you couldn’t see.  Light enabled and empowered the necessary functions of daily living.  Light creates vision. Clarity. Direction. Light unveils the darkness and reveals the hidden.  Light guides and makes clear the path ahead. Light was essential. And as the natural light of the sun set, it was necessary to spark new light.  And Jesus makes the point to say, no one, no one having lit a lamp immediately covers it up with a bushel. That’s ridiculous. Why light it in the first place.  Rather, a light is lit for the purpose of shining. That’s what light does, and to inhibit a light’s ability to shine is to intentionally hinder the light’s ability to be effective.  To dismiss its power all together. 

Salt has a purpose.  In fact, it has many purposes.  Light has a purpose. And you, Jesus says, YOU are light of the world.  YOU ARE salt of the earth. You have a purpose. And to be a disciple, to be a salt and light, as one commentator noted is to "be tasty and lit."    Salt on a shelf is a waste of good salt. Light hidden is a misuse of light.  

Given the busy nature of our callings, Sarah and I don’t always have the chance to sit down of dinner together.  Even more rare are the chances to cook a home cooked meal together. So, we’ve been quite fond of a company called Hellofresh?  Anybody familiar with Hellofresh? Or Blue Apron? There are other companies, but they’re all essentially the same. These companies allow you to pick any number of meals from their menu and then they send you all of the pre portioned ingredients and recipes in order to make the meal.  These have been life savers for us as a family. And I really like them because it’s affordable and it pushes us to try new things. They provide everything you need for the meal except three things: Oil, Pepper, and Salt.

Now, I would guess that over the years I’ve cooked at least 60 or so HelloFresh meals.  And in my brief but vast experience, I have learned that you can always count on two things: First, 90% of meals will use an entire onion.  And Secondly, the recipe instructs you to Salt and Pepper everything at every step of the process. 

I cooked a meal the other night - roasted poblano pepper and pork tacos.  And, as expected, it called for the use of an entire red onion. And of the 3 steps in the cooking process, each and every one said, add Salt and Pepper to taste in bold.  It’s becoming a running joke for us to question the recipe when a step doesn’t tell you to add salt.  

When Jesus tells the disciples that they are salt of the earth and the light of the world, he is using very real and understandable metaphors to explain their discipleship.  He is giving them a clear and direct mission to, as the commentator said, be tasty and be lit.

So, what does it mean to be salt and light for the world?  It means to act and live in such a manner that your Christian witness is seen with clarity and understanding.  It means removing the bushels of the world that we put in place to squelch the light. It means shining light in the face of injustice and revealing peace and hope.  It means denouncing the bushels of hatred, envy, greed, oppression, exploitation, abuse, and shame...denouncing, as we do in baptism, the forces that defy God...so that light may be seen and reflected.  

To be salt is to season the world with flavor.  To spice up the despair of life. It means preserving the natural goodness of God’s creation.  It means stopping the world and our neighbors from the decay of sin. It means acting in the waters of baptism and promise of salvation to work for justice and peace.  It means seasoning grief and despair with hope, flavoring loss with accompaniment, oppression with freedom, and injustice and justice. It means rubbing the powerful systems of injustice with the healing power of God’s kingdom. 

Salt is such a powerful metaphor.  I was visiting someone in the hospital the other day, and it dawned on me…when you’re admitted to the hospital, what is one of the first things they always do no matter your symptoms or illness.  They start and IV. And what is an IV? It’s a saline solution. Essentially, saltwater because salt is important to your body’s natural healing.  

And if salt has lost its saltiness it is worthless and thrown out to be trampled on.   It’s said that untrustworthy vendors would sell salt diluted with white sand, rendering the salt useless and saltiness-less.   Therefore thrown out to be trampled under foot. Salt was essential to life. And if salt lost its flavor or saltiness, then it was worthless.  

Think about it, we don’t take things and add them to salt to dilute salt and make it better do we?  No. In the same way that we don’t cover a freshly lit lamp. Rather, a lamp is lit to shine, and salt is applied to preserve, season, nourish, and heal.

And I think for Jesus, he is teaching the disciples that as disciples they must denounce the bushels of the world.  They must reject the sins that dilute their calling. Rather than be impressed by the world around them, they’re called as disciples to form and reform the world and their neighbors.  Called to usher in the kingdom of God. To shine and season. To be light and to be salt.

My friends, YOU, You are salt and you are light.  In the waters of baptism, God removes the bushels of sin, and through confession and forgiveness, God calls us to season the world with God’s grace.  And like the recipe calls for...Salt everything, every step of the way.

And being salt and light looks like the ordinary acts of Christian witness in everyday life.

It’s serving at the food pantry or habitat build, working with volunteers in medicine.  

It’s being guardian ad litem, giving rides to the elderly to the Dr. and grocery store. 

It’s taking altar flowers to shut-ins, tutoring at our local school, and making chili to raise almost $400.  It’s a red wagon overflowing with food week-in and week-out.  It’s empowering a preschool that nurtures 120 kids and families.  It’s adopting children, caring for grandkids, and teaching Sunday school.  It’s baking a meal or sleeping on a couch so that homeless families may have a safe place to rest.  It’s singing the promise of God, leading the community of faith in worship, taking communion to our sisters and brothers.   It’s praying by name for anyone who asks. Salt is powerful and it doesn’t take a lot to be effective.  Light is powerful and once lit it stands for all to see. 

So, my dear disciples, You! You are salt of the earth.  You are light of the world. And as you were charged in baptism: Let your light so shine before others so they may see your good works and glorify your father in heaven.  Amen. 

©Sermon preached by Pastor Daniel Locke on February 9, 2020 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Church in Jacksonville, FL

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

Repent or Perish - Sermon on Luke 13:1-9

Listen to the gospel lesson and sermon here.

Luke 13:1-9

At that very time there were some present who told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices.² He asked them, "Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans?³ No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did.⁴ Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them—do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem?⁵ No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did."⁶ Then he told this parable: "A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and found none.⁷ So he said to the gardener, "See here! For three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and still I find none. Cut it down! Why should it be wasting the soil?'⁸ He replied, "Sir, let it alone for one more year, until I dig around it and put manure on it.⁹ If it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.' "

It seems no matter how often I read this text, I get caught up on Jesus saying, “but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did.”  Perhaps it’s because he says it twice...or maybe it’s because it’s a bit of a terrifying, out-of-the-ordinary statement from Jesus. Repent or Perish.  And to drive his point home he uses the image of a perfectly innocent fig tree, which has a rather fruitless history. And because there is no fruit, which is a metaphor for repentance and a life in God’s will, the master is prepared to cut it down.  But the gardner intercedes and advocates for patience. Give it just one more year. Allow the tree to be tended and cultivated..to be properly nourished and nurtured. Surely then we will see fruit. And if it bears fruit next year, well and good; but if not, you can cut it down.'”  So the Master yields. 

Repent or perish.  These are powerful words with dangerous implications.  There are whole ideologies in our world, especially in this country who take these words out of the context of the gospel and use them not only to condemn anyone they consider to be unworthy of God’s grace, but they also celebrate tragedies as signs of God’s divine judgment upon sinners.  These folks, whom I refuse to give any power to their name, they prey upon victims of serious natural or national tragedies. And I don’t mean prayer as conversation with God. I mean they prey upon them like a lion in the wild, ready to pounce on people’s pain and suffering to amplify their misconstrued theology that bad things happen to you because you are sinful.  Repent or perish is there motto. It’s a powerful and scary interpretation of Jesus’ words this day. It’s a dangerous destructive theology. And it’s all the more reason to give these words the time and attention they deserve. 

In today’s text Jesus is still en route to Jerusalem.  He knowingly continues to the city that will be less than welcoming.  In fact they will be hostile and abusive. And all throughout his journey to Jerusalem he never relinquishes from teaching and healing.  He never tires in his work for the Kingdom. 

Today he encounters some folks who share a tragic story and then ask a very understandable and difficult theological question.  They tell Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices.” And the question that arises is if these Galileans were sinners, and even more so, were they murdered for their sins.  Why did these people die? Jesus references another tragic event, in which some 18 people were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them. Again the question is raised, why did these people die? Were they sinful?  Did they die as a result of their sinfulness. Is God issuing some form of divine judgment? And if so, should we be nervous? 

These are common ponderings aren’t they?  Why do bad things happen to good people? Why do earthquakes debilitate 3rd world countries for a generation?  Why do hurricanes regularly level coastlines and why do wildfires continue to decimate communities? Why do our children continue to die at gunpoint?  Why do soldiers face the destruction of war? Why do buildings fall and bridges break? Why do accidents happen to innocent people? Why are women and children sexually assaulted, and whole populations of people abused and neglected for their uniqueness.  Why is cancer so ravenous and destructive? Why do bad things happen to good people? What did they do to deserve this? How did God allow this to happen? 

These are the vulnerable pleas of our faith.  And today that crowd approaches Jesus on our behalf and raises the question of divine judgment or worse, punishment.  

And honestly, these are all truly unfortunate occurrences.  The Galileans killed by Pilate and the 18 killed by the tower of Siloam falling.  They are sad. But the truth is they are completely independent of anyone’s sin or innocence.  

Natural disaster and national tragedies are awful.  Truly unfortunate. Things break. Bridges fail. Towers collapse.  The earth shakes and the mountains tremble. Oceans rage and fires spread.  All terribly sad. But I refuse to believe that any of these tragedies are the result of a victims’ own sins or sinfulness.

Certainly such acts or disaster or tragedy are the result of a sinful person making a sinful decision.   We see this all the time, especially with gun violence now-a-days. Pilate killed the Galileans...a sinful act resulting in unfortunate tragedy.  But I refuse to believe that God is casting divine judgement as punishment for a victim’s individual or corporate sin. 

Being the victim of a tragedy is not punishment for one’s own sin.  Nor is it an indication for sinfulness. Despite what the picketers may say.   And thank God for that, because if it were so, then we would live our lives in constant fear of divine judgment.  We’d constantly be looking over our shoulder. Such tragedies do not teach us about God’s divine judgment or God’s grace.  If anything, such tragedies...like Pilate murdering the Galileans or the tower falling on 18 innocent bystanders..the teach us of the frailty of life.  

And tragedies make life short.  Eighteen people died when a tower fell on them.  These folks were no worse than anyone else. It was a random occurrence, and honestly any of us can be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and become the victim of an accident or tragedy.  This is the kind of fear the crowds laid before Jesus in this morning’s text.

So what do we make of Jesus saying “but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did.” 

At first glance, it seems that Jesus is placing repentance at odds with perishing as divine judgement.  Suggesting that these are your only two choices, and we must decide now. And to not repent means perishing for sinful behaviour.  So choose wisely. No, I suspect Jesus is being a bit more rich than that, in light of the crowds concern with recent tragedy and accident.  

Perapas, rather than interpret Jesus as offering an ultimatum, Jesus is acknowledging that life is short.  Tragedy and accidents can make life short. Too short and too unpredictable in fact, to live an unrepentant life.  And for us to think that human suffering is a result of divine punishment for sinfulness...that’s too easy. Too simple.  So, Repent, Jesus says, because life is too short, and it’d be truly unfortunate to die or perish unrepentant. Seems like a relevant message for the season of Lent, doesn’t it?

This is why we begin Lent with Ash Wed….a humble and vulnerable proclamation that life can be short.  That we will all die one day. And from dust and dust, we proclaim and worship a God who is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.  God is patient and persistent. Like a patient, passionate gardner...abiding to the fig tree as long as needed.

And the good news is that repentance is less about finding ourselves or working to become a better person as it is about being found by God.  Acknowledging God’s gift of a life and grace. Accepting God’s relentless pursuit of God’s children...regardless of sin or innocence. Repentance isn’t a measure of human ability or achievement.  Repentance is a the full acceptance of God’s abundance. God’s patient and love-filled pursuit. 

And the truth is, we run.  We love to run and resist the abundant love of a patient and passionate God.   And so repentance is to be found. To be found by a persistent God who never relinquished love.  To be found and loved. To be forgiven by grace. Repentance is to acknowledge God finding us, and turn around...with our whole hearts in worship and praise.

This is the power of a more abundant theology.   Repent or perish isn’t an explanation for tragedy or accident as divine judgement or punishment.  Rather, repent or perish is to acknowledge that frailty of life….A life rich with God’s love, and to perish is to deny, ignore, abandon, dismiss, or take for granted that love.  To perish is to live in absence or ignorance of God’s love. And Jesus deeply desires and longs that no one perish.

This brings us back to Lent.  A season dedicated to self assessment and discernment.  For a mere 40 days we identify, name, and turn away from the parts of our life that cause us to perish...to disrupt, dismiss, or destroy our relationship of God.  Our time in Lent is an intentional commitment to being found. 

And when are found, again and again, God, who is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love, offers us nourishment and nutrient.  God empowers us with love, and waters us with grace. So that we may grow to bear good fruit. Fruit of a God’s gracious love. Fruit of repentance.  Fruit that boasts to the world of a God who creates, nourishes, and nurtures...not punishes and destroys. A God who is compassionate and forgiving, not vengeful and vindictive.  A who God who is empowering and affirming. Abiding and abundant. A God who allows no one to perish. 

Amen. 

© Pastor Daniel Locke, Preached March 24, 2019 @ St. Mark's Lutheran, Jacksonville, FL

The Warm Embrace of the Kingdom - Sermon on Luke 13:31-35

Listen to the gospel lesson and sermon here.

Luke 13:31-35

31 At that very hour some Pharisees came and said to him, "Get away from here, for Herod wants to kill you."³² He said to them, "Go and tell that fox for me, "Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work.³³ Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.'³⁴ Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!³⁵ See, your house is left to you. And I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when you say, "Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.' "  

Well friends, We’re 10 days into the season of Lent now, and since I asked last week, I figure I’ll ask again, How is your Lenten experience going thus far?  Have you encountered, resisted, or given in to any temptations? Have you confronted any demons or experienced any release in your self-assessment and discernment?

Lent is such a unique gift for us as Christians.  We intentionally enter into a 40 day journey of exploring our faith with the grace to weed out all the noise and false hope in our lives.  I was talking with a friend the other day who has Lutheran tradition in her past, but now attends a non-denominational church. And she was lamenting that while deep in her liturgical soul she knew it was lent, but she was now in a community of faith that didn’t recognize or celebrate the liturgical calendar.

And my heart was heavy for her because even though she could certainly take on the season of Lent on her own, I could tell that she was deeply longing for a community to journey with.  A community that was willing to be vulnerable with her and intentionally take on a season of penitence and reflection. Introspection and contemplation. 

That’s what Lent is, and the beauty of it all is that it is something we choose to do.  It’s an opportunity we take on, Perhaps begrudgingly at times, but as a community of faith, rooted in our liturgical tradition, we spend a mere 40 days looking within ourselves and our lives to discern the aspects that disrupt our relationship with God.   And we do so among our siblings in Christ. A community committed to the humble and vulnerable practice of Lent, which helps us to be mutually accountable. 

Ya know, God is fully invested in us.  God abundantly and endlessly pours out grace upon grace, naming and claiming us as children of God, brining is in to the one body of Christ. 

And so it is together, as a community, as a whole that we spend time confessing and repenting that we have fallen short.  Naming the temptations that fester, disturb, and destroy our God-given relationships. 

This is why we Lent.   Starting with Ash Wednesday- a service of extended confession and an imposition of ashes.  Reminding one another that we were created by God from dust and to dust we shall return. And God does remarkable things even with dust.  And on our dusty foreheads we bear the overwhelming yet freeing witness that we are utterly and wholly dependent upon God. Everything else fades away, but God and God alone creates, empowers, sustains, and saves.  This is why take on Lent. This is why we journey through Lent together.

So, as I asked last week and will likely ask again, how is your Lenten journey going?  10 days, are you weary or even renewed? 

In our gospel text today we meet Jesus already in the midst of his own journey.  Last week we read about Jesus’ own battle with temptation in the wilderness, as the crafty and luring devil makes several valiant attempts to lead Jesus into false power and false hope.   Since then Jesus’ has been busy with the work of the kingdom, teaching and healing, restoring lives, extending grace, and ushering in hope. 

In chapter nine, there is a definitive moment when Jesus turns and set his sights on Jerusalem.  He gathered his disciples and said, “We are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be betrayed to the chief priests and the teachers of the law.”  And so in the 13th chapter of Luke today, Jesus is working his way to the great threes days.  He’s journeying to a final destination, a city that will reject, ignore, beat, and ultimately kill him.  

Our text today begins with a word of warning from the Pharisees.  They advise Jesus that if he stay on his current trajectory, Herod lays in wait.  And even the Pharisees, for whatever reason, advise Jesus to turn around. To go the other way, lest he risk being killed. 

Last weekend I had the privilege of meeting with a 7 year old girl and her family to talk about baptism.   And during our conversation of talking about Jesus, I mentioned that they killed him. And she looked at me stunned and said why?  Why would they want to kill Jesus? All he wanted to do was love people and be nice. Why would they kill him. And all I could think to say was, “That’s a brilliant question.”

But that’s what we do with prophets.  Those who speak with prophetic voices...Whether a message that convicts or confronts our comfortable way of life, or a message that rocks our core because deep down we know it to be true, but don’t want to face the weight of truth.  We like to rejected because the message they carry is not one we want to hear. Or at the very least ignore. Maybes it’s simply fear or ignorance, but we, and I mean our history of saints as well, tend to have an aversion to prophets and those who speak prophetically.  So Jerusalem, and us still today, like to suppress the prophet. In Jesus’ case they kill him.

But Jesus is not provoked nor is he deterred.  His journey to Jerusalem and ultimately his death is unwavered because Jesus knows something that we have yet to full learn.   That is the work of the Kingdom of God...the work of healing and justice, of releasing demons and ushering hope...the kingdom work is not conditioned or dictated by Worldly structures, political leaders, or human influence.  The work of God in Jesus Christ and the work of the Kingdom will continue and it will come to fullness on God’s time. On the third day.

So rather than turn around, Jesus looks ahead to this broken city and laments.  

Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!  Jesus uses such powerful imagery. How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wing.

Beautiful.  Jesus has such a gift for using incredible imagery to help the disciples and others understand what he is teaching.  This is one of the things that makes him such a great teacher. 

Just prior to today’s story, Jesus taught the disciples about the kingdom of God using images like a mustard seeds, yeast in dough, and a narrow door.  Later, in chapter 14, he describes the persistence nature of God with parables sheep, coins, and children.  Jesus has such an eloquent way of using the aspects of common day life to teach about God’s abundant grace and love and the impending kingdom of God.  And Jesus always spoke this way to help people understand what he was teaching. So as he laments over Jerusalem this morning, he does it again….How often have I desired to gather the children of Jerusalem together as a hen gathers her chicks beneath her wing. 

                        

The image of Jesus as a mother hen is such a beautiful image.  It’s delicate, much like the image of Jesus as a lamb, but it carries a sense of  strength, authority, and protection, like the image of Jesus as a shepherd. 

We know that feeling don’t we?  If not, I’m sure we long for it.  Who among us hasn’t experienced or desired a longing to be brooded like a chick to a hen?   Maybe you recall a time when we were younger, more innocent. Perhaps it came from our own mothers or fathers or a family friend?   An experience with someone so loving that they offer both sense of authority and security while also offering an embrace of warmth and comfort?  

I remember so fondly as a kid, I would climb on my dad’s bed and provoke him into a wrestling match that I knew I would lose.  He would bear hug me...I would struggle to break free. After only a few min, I would be so tired and body would go limp...and I would lie in the protection and comfort of my dad’s arms. 

Perhaps you know that feeling?  Or have experienced that embrace?

Story about losing my passport in Germany.  Listen to audio above.

This image of a hen is so powerful. Jesus wants an intimate connection with the people of Jerusalem.   Like a hen with her chicks - and if you’ve ever seen a picture of this or actually seen a hen covering her chicks with her wings, it’s something very special.  The hen puffs out her feathers and ushers them all in and the chicks almost disappear completely beneath her wings. The chicks are so absorbed in the hen that it’s hard to see where the hen ends and the chicks begin.  So what Jesus is saying with this image is that he wants the children of Jerusalem to come and be protected and intimately connected to him - absorbed into him and his ministry. He wants to offer them protection through salvation. He wants them to see and encounter the kingdom of God that he is proclaiming. 

And maybe it would seem a bit ironic that this is how he wants the people of Jerusalem to feel.  Ironic that Jesus wants to gather these people up and protect them.  Jerusalem, this supposed holy city, that continues to turn against God and against the prophets and messengers that God sends to them - this city that Jesus grieves over.  Jerusalem is the city that will, in just a few weeks, turn Jesus over to the authorities and cry out for his crucifixion.   This is the city that, even after Jesus’ death, refuses to turn toward God and follow Jesus’ disciples.  

Jerusalem, the city that is unwelcoming and unkind to prophets, the very city that will reject, deny, punish, and kill Jesus...these are the people Jesus longingly desires to pull in, comfort, protect, and envelop in his love.

And maybe that’s not simply ironic...But rather the epitome of the gospel.  God’s unwavering and unconditioned love for the world. The the gospel in one image.

This kind of unity, this kind of brooding is what Jesus calls us to when he calls us under his wings. He desires for Jerusalem to come under his wings and participate in his work with him, going along as he goes, healing as he heals.  Jesus wants to pull people into himself so intimately that they are a part of him, participating in the work that God has called him to do. He longs for all people to be brought into the kingdom of God. As we say now, becoming the body of Christ. 

Jesus wants us - you and me - to be caught up in this kind of work too. Like a mother hen endless offering embrace, Jesus is constantly coming after us.  Relentless pursuing us for participation with the kingdom work he is doing in the world. Like the children of Jerusalem, Jesus longs for us to witness and participate in the kingdom of God today. It is in our baptism that we are first called into the body of Christ and every time we eat the bread and drink the wine, we are renewed and sustained in the body of Christ. It is these two practices that keep us in synch, that keep us nestled under the protective wings of Christ. 

In this season of Lent, when we are called to examine ourselves and examine our lives, we hear something calming, reassuring, warm - as if we are being nestled under the wings of our savior.  We hear of Jesus’ relentless love. We hear of a God so loving that God would send God’s son to heal the sick, bind up the broken, give sight to the blind, and raise the dead to new life. We hear of a savior that wishes to save and comfort the very people who have denied him and so many prophets before him. We hear of a savior so heartbroken for his children that even as they put him on the cross, he asks his father in heaven to forgive them. We hear of Christ’s relentless love that never fails, even when it is crucified. 

So despite all of our fears and failures...despite how your lenten journey may or may not be going...despite that we too often deny the voice of the prophet, just like Jerusalem, Jesus still desires to gather us in, like chicks under his motherly wings, so that we might come to know, to taste, and see the power of relentless love.  So that we might participate and join others to nestle within the kingdom of God. Amen.

© Pastor Daniel Locke, preached March 17, 2019 @ St. Mark's Lutheran, Jacksonville, FL.

Claimed by God and Nothing Can Change That - Sermon on Luke 3:15-22 - 01.13.2019

Listen to the gospel lesson and sermon here.

Luke 3:15-17, 21-22

15 As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah,¹⁶ John answered all of them by saying, "I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire.¹⁷ His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire."²¹ Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened,²² and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, "You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased."

A little show and tell for you this morning.  “This certifies that Daniel Brady Locke, son of John and Susan Locke was received into the Holy Christian Church through The Sacrament of Holy Baptism in the name of the Father and of the son and of the Holy Spirit in St. Mark’s Lutheran Church Claremont, NC on July 19, 1987.  Signed by Pastor Stanely L. Stiver.

This is my Certificate of Baptism.  My show and tell for the day. I also have, believe it or not, a bulletin, a picture, and the baptismal cloth used to dry my head.  I can never remember what hymn we sang that morning, so it’s nice to look back and see we sang “Rock of Ages, Cleft for Me.”  

July 19, 1987.  That’s the day God washed over me, cleansed me, made me whole, and made me an heir to the promise of eternal life.  That is the day that God named and claimed me as God’s child. And from that moment on, there was NOTHING, is nothing that I could/can do, thank God, to change that.  Daniel Brady Locke, child of God.

Now, believe it or not, I don’t remember much of anything about that day.  And to be completely honest, I didn’t know many of the specifics of my baptism until my seminary application directly asked questions about my baptism.

But pictures from that day tell me that I was surrounded by my parents and grandmothers, my 5 year old brother, aunts and uncles, and of course a entire congregation of people I didn’t yet know.  

At 6 weeks old, I was introduced to the sacrament of Holy Baptism.   Water was poured over my head. I was cleansed. I was washed clean from the power of sin, death, and the devil.  God intimately and inextricably claimed me forever. 

How many of you can recall your baptism?  Certainly most of us have no actual memory of the event, but rather do you know what day you were baptized?  Who were your sponsors? In what community of faith were you baptized. Do you recall the promises made by God? By your parents and/or sponsors?  By the community of faith.

Or if you haven’t been baptized, have you given any thought into being baptized?  Do you desire to be apart of the body of christ, to die in a death like Christ, and rise into new life like Christ?  

To be washed by the water and claimed by God as a child of God?

Or best yet, how many times have you participate in a baptism?  As a family member, sponsor, or simply a member of the congregation?  How many times have you replied “We Will and we ask God to help and guide us” when the pastor asks, “Do you promise to support and pray for the newly baptised in their new life in Christ?”

I grew up in the church.  The ELCA was born when I was a year old.  The Lutheran church is all I’ve ever known.  And even though as a kid I didn’t know much about my baptism or the significance of being baptised, I distinctly remember the font.  It was made of wood and stood about 4.5 half feet off the ground. It was about a foot and a half wide and was in the shape of an octagon.  It had pretty, decorative wood carvings around the edges. I have seen many like it since then.

But what I remember most is that it had a silver, metal bowl that sat in the top and there was a wooden lid with a cross on the top.  And for my entire childhood, the font sat off to the side of the sanctuary, with no water, and the lid on top. It was only opened and filled when there was a baptism. 

In retrospect, it seems so strange to me that we would keep something so central to our faith, a sacrament none-the-less, something so foundational to our identity, that we would keep it off to the side and out of mind unless needed.  Why not bring it front and center.  Prominent and overflowing.  A constant visual reminder of the grace of God.  A testament to who and whose we are?

Today we celebrate Baptism of Our Lord Sunday.  Following Advent and Christmas, we continue to the season and Spirit of Epiphany...of Christ being made known, and we celebrate Christ being baptized in the river Jordan.

And Today, our gospel text brings baptism front and center.  John the Baptist was busy preaching and teaching. He was on the scene out of the wilderness and he had developed quite the following. 

Our text says that people were filled with expectation, eager with anticipation. They were questioning whether John might be the one.  The messiah they had longed for. 

Then John does what in my opinion is one of the most humblest things in all of scripture.  Rather than play up the crowds and anticipation and soak in their affection and curiosity. John steps out of the way.  He moves to the side. He points to Christ. John redirects their attention. He bows out and lifts up Christ. 

And out of the crowds, out from among them, Jesus comes forth to be baptized.  And what seems like just another baptism, this one has a different result. The heaves split open and the Holy Spirit descended upon Jesus in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” 

Front and center, at the start of Jesus’ public ministry, God declares Jesus as God’s son, a beloved child, in whom God is well pleased.   Jesus is the Messiah, the one hoped for. All of the crowds’ and the world's expectations fulfilled and assured in that moment.

About the time I was in late elementary school, Pastor Stanley Stiver retired from St. Mark’s, and we welcomed a wonderful man, named Jim Stephenson.   Within his first week, he made two major changes to the worship space. 

First, he pulled the altar away from the wall.   I’ve since learned that they were called Walltars.  Anyways, he moved it forward so that he could stand behind it during communion. 

The second thing he moved was the font.  He placed the baptismal font in the front of the sanctuary, just in front of the steps.  He removed the lid and filled it with water.  And every single sermon, after reading the gospel from the pulpit, he would make his way to the font and preach from the water.  He had a small index card for his notes, and no matter what the topic of his sermon, no matter the text he would always always find some way to play in the water.

He was notorious for splashing around in the water, reminding us of our baptism.  His affection for the font and the water gave deeper meaning and and appreciation for who and whose we are.   He was known for dipping his hands in the water and saying, “in the name of the father, the name of the son and the name of Holy surprises.”

On his last day as our interim, after reading the gospel from the pulpit, he made his way to the font.  Looked down and Smiled as three goldfish swam around in the font. He said, “I wondered how long it would take for this to happen.” 

Pastor Jim brought baptism front and center.  I couldn’t tell you much detail about my baptism, but to this day I can tell you with confidence that Pastor Stephenson's commitment to keeping the sacrament front and center has stuck with me.  I credit him for my love and affection for the sacrament. 

Jesus, God made flesh, born among us took on death and was victorious.  Jesus conquered the grave and the abiding promise of God was fulfilled. God overpowered sin, death, and the devil, making way for new and life eternal.

And it is in the waters of baptism that God claims us as God’s children.  Marked with the cross of Christ, Sealed by the holy spirit. The heavens torn a part, 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.  

Baptism is God’s action.  God’s claiming of us. God’s choosing and naming.  God welcomes us into the body of Christ and makes us heirs to the most incredible promise.  God does this purely out of God’s own goodness. God’s love is that powerful.

On this second Sunday of Epiphany, we celebrate baptism, we bring it front and center intentionally, lest we ever forget who and whose we are.  In the waters we die to our old selves, we are made new. We belong to God. Our identity, in the most holistic sense is inextricably connected to God.

And out of the waters, everything else in our lives is to be a expression of that grace.  A testament to that gift. That child of God and the body of Christ is our one and only true affiliation.  

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.

Make no mistake that every group, organization, party, club, or other affiliation is a choice we make in our lives.  Some may have dues or regulations, rules and commitments, but in the end, they’re all choices and they all have the ability to fade away.  But baptism, God’s grace-filled claim on God’s people never, never fades away. Never expires. 

This is why baptism and remembrance of baptism is so important.   I love love love our font. I admit I wish it was deeper, but I’ll save that fight for another day.  I love that we literally have to walk around it in order to enter and exit the worship space. And if it weren’t cemented in the back of the church, there’s a good chance I’d be splashing in the water right now.

A few weeks ago, during the birthday for Christ service, I was standing in the back with Tracy Williams and her two daughters.  Cassidy and I were looking at the font and whispering to one another about the font and what it means. So I dipped my fingers in the water and sprinkled a bit at her and said “remember your baptism.”  Cassidy, without missing a beat took her hands in the water like you would in a pool and shoved a big ol wave back at me. Tracy turned around immediately and I confessed that I instigated.

Martin Luther said that we should rise every morning, splash water in our face, make the sign of the cross, and remember that we belong to God.  

The waters are a foundational, integral part of who and whose we are.  If you don’t already, I encourage you to acknowledge the gift of God’s grace each day.  Make the sign of the cross when you wash your face. Open the ELW to page 228 and remember the promises made.  Run your fingers through the water when enter and exit this space. And thank God, who is well pleased, that there is absolutely nothing in all of creation that can change that truth.  

Amen

© Pastor Daniel Locke, preached Jan. 13, 2019 @ St. Mark's Lutheran Church, Jacksonville, Florida