A Lutheran Says What?

Sermons and random thoughts on God, the world and the intersection of the two

What Are You Wearing? Sermon on Ephesians 6: 10-20 August 22, 2021

This sermon was proclaimed on August 22, 2021 at Our Saviour’s Lutheran in Holladay, UT. It can be viewed on our YouTube Channel: Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church SLC.
The texts were:
Joshua 24: 1-2a, 14-18
Ephesians 6: 10-20
John 6: 56-69
Young Friends message: I remember that each year, no matter how old I was, I spent a great amount of time picking out my first day of school outfit. Do you all still do that? Yes, no? Well, sometimes we think about what we want to wear don’t we? What we wear sends a message to people about what we like, maybe band or unicorn t-shirts, or our school colors, or as we get older, some jobs have uniforms, like medical workers, construction workers. And what we wear tells people what we are doing, such as if we’re wearing workout clothes, or fancy clothes. I probably wouldn’t wear a fancy outfit to go for a run! Or my running clothes to a nice restaurant, although I’ve been tempted! And we definitely wouldn’t wear a swimsuit to play in the snow! The right clothes can matter. In our Ephesians bible story today, we hear about putting on the armor of God. What does that sound like to you? Kinda strange maybe? It does to me! But I got to thinking about it and I realized that maybe we need to remember that just as it’s important to wear the right clothes to be warm, or cool, or even safe, so too, our actions and our words are like our clothes that let people know about what we are doing and who we are. Telling the truth, being righteous which is a fancy word for being kind and a good friend, being peaceful, having faith that God is with us all, and that God will always be with us, which is salvation, and God’s Word of love, as we have in Jesus. We don’t think of that as “wearing anything” but just as we take time to decide what to wear for our day, we should take the time to decide to show God to other people. Let’s talk some more about that!

Somedays it is a challenge to decide what to wear based on weather, what I’m doing that day, meetings, off or on zoom, etc. I want to be ready for whatever the day brings. I will admit that the days I need to wear my clerics are days I spend less time staring in my closet. While that seems like a good thing, to have that easy choice, wearing this shirt comes with other side effects. I’ll notice that people star at me, treat me differently, call me “sister,” are very confused by my holding Mike’s hand or avoid me altogether. As a pastor, who happens to be female, in a world that a) is not accustomed to seeing people wearing clerics all that often, and b) a woman wearing a cleric, it can lead to situations that range from weird, to sublime, to disturbing, to downright hilarious. People expect me to behave a certain way when they see me in a clergy shirt that they don’t when I’m in the Target in my jeans and a t-shirt. And sometimes I forget that I’m in a cleric, and sometimes I’m all too aware. For instance, if I drive past a person asking for money on a corner, it’s tempting to remove my collar so that I can’t be identified as a pastor, when I don’t stop and offer money. I have a colleague from seminary, a woman as well, who said that sometimes this shirt can feel 500 pounds because of the expectations. I honestly have a love/hate relationship with wearing clerics. Sure, it’s an easy wardrobe choice, but this shirt sets me apart. It’s a lot of pressure and forces me to live carefully about the choices I make. Sometimes, only sometimes, I long to be a “normal” person.

While yes, maybe this clergy shirt does come with expectations, but when I consider whether to wear the shirt or not, I realize that those expectations are always present. As those expectations, don’t have anything to do with the clerics, but my baptism, who I am and whose I am. My identity is far beyond this shirt or any other piece of clothing I might wear. My identity of following Jesus is known by my words and actions and those should be consistent regardless of if I am in my clerics or not. Wearing this shirt, people expect me to behave ethically, morally, truthfully, lovingly. But shouldn’t that be true if I never put this shirt on again? And yet, I know that wearing this shirt forces me to remember; it holds me accountable. When those of us who do wear this shirt behave in ways that are incongruent with following Jesus, it harms the body of Christ. Sadly, every pastor or priest has let their people down, and I’m no different, for we’re human. And yes, there are horrible circumstances when priests and pastors have abused their positions and power, lied, stolen from people or the church, or made other choices that betrayed and denied their vows to God’s people and Church. And all too often the Church hasn’t done enough to protect people, or ensure that those perpetrating harm receive consequences. As Church leadership we must repent of the harm and abuse that hierarchy and clericalism has inflicted on the Body of Christ.  

We know all too well that the clothing itself doesn’t completely control identity, words and actions, just as wearing a stethoscope doesn’t make you a medical expert, neither does wearing clericals make you closer to God or a better disciple. Each day we choose our baptismal vocation.  That can indeed be a difficult thing to accept as Jesus points out in John’s gospel, as it does sound offensive that there is a choice to be made and it makes us uncomfortable like an itchy wool sweater. There is not any give or stretch, in any of today’s three texts and that might seem harsh or unloving, or ungraceful, but I would ask you to reconsider.
Joshua asks the people, who will you serve? The people proclaim God, but in the verses that we don’t read, Joshua correctly tells the people three times, that they won’t because on their own, they can’t. In Ephesians, we’re told to dress for a spiritual battle, not for violence or mayhem but for the real possibility that life will be hard, and we’d better be ready. Jesus asks the disciples and the twelve, why is the good news that I am the bread of life hard to accept? Do you want to leave? The choice is yours.
We like choice, but the choice we want is “can’t we say we love Jesus and then do whatever we want and just ask for forgiveness?” and the choice we get is “you either get it or you don’t.” This isn’t the Jesus we like or want to profess. But it is good news. Jesus says to the twelve, I called you, all of you, even the one who will betray me, but you can leave if you want. Joshua reminds the Israelites that God chose them as God’s people, rescued them, provided for them, and made a path for them, but won’t coerce them into relationship. The good news is that God chooses us, chooses you, chooses me, each and every day. That will never change. God desires for us to choose to love and serve God every day as carefully as we might choose our outfit. God desires for us to carefully put on what will reveal the kingdom of God in our lives and the lives of others: truth, righteousness in relationships with each other, peace, wholeness, faith, salvation-safety in the promises of God, and the word of God. The word of God made flesh in Jesus, that abides in us and we in him, no matter what. We are chosen, all people are chosen by God’s love. Being chosen doesn’t make us special but makes us accountable. We are chosen and the world is watching, Jesus says. What and who will we choose? Will we choose to wear the mask of compassion, the vaccine of community, the shoes of protest for compassion and dignity for our neighbor? Or will this be too difficult to accept, and we will walk away complaining that it’s too hard? This isn’t a guilt trip or a shame fest, my friends, it’s a fact of life. It’s a fact of life that all too many people are unwilling to face, that we are called to be bold in our witness and when others walk out of hard situations, as followers of Jesus, we choose to walk in. We walk in armed with the presence of God in the Holy Spirit, armed with the word of God, the love of God made flesh in Jesus, knowing that harm and suffering is not only possible but expected. But we walk in, because what else can we do? Our neighbor needs us: our sick neighbor, our Afghani neighbor, our Haitian neighbor, our scared neighbor, our angry neighbor. Where else can we choose to go? Jesus calls us by name, calls us to wear love, makes us holy and whole, with each other, all creation and God, and separation will be no more. Jesus IS the word of sustaining life for all, that covers us and sends us out ready to love and serve our neighbor. This is the promise. Amen.


Filled Sermon on John 6 August 15, 2021

This sermon was proclaimed at Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church in Holladay, UT on August 15, 2021. It can be viewed on YouTube on our channel: Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church SLC.

The texts were:
Proverbs 9: 1-6     Ephesians 5: 15-20       John 6: 51-58

Young Friends Message:
Which flavor of Skittles is your favorite? I like orange. It’s interesting to me that they make candy that is supposed to remind us of a fruit flavor. Shouldn’t we just eat the fruit instead of the candy? The fruit is better for us than that candy. The fake sugar and colors in candy aren’t good for our bodies, and can make our bodies sick as a matter of fact. But real fruit is good for our bodies and has what you need to grow and be healthy and has what adults need to age well and be healthy. But we tend to really like the fake stuff don’t we? I wonder why? There’s a lot of complicated brain biology that is why we crave the fake, but it’s mostly because the fake stuff, fools our bodies and brains into thinking that this is good when it’s not. The real fruit doesn’t make us feel as good instantly, but it doesn’t make us feel horrible later. The real fruit doesn’t fool us. It’s honest that we don’t get the immediate feeling good of sugar. Instead, we just feel, well normal for lack of a better word. The candy is faster and easier to eat and real fruit or vegetables, take more work and we eat them slower. No immediate gratification. When we stick with what’s real, it’s better for us, even if we don’t feel good immediately or even if it’s more work.
In our Bible story from the gospel of John, Jesus is talking to the people about eating what is real, what matters. It sounds very strange doesn’t it? Eating and drinking Jesus! And it is strange. But here’s what Jesus wants you to know: Jesus is never about making you feel bad. Jesus is always about making you feel the truth, that you are loved. It might not always seem like it, but Jesus wants people to know they can have Jesus actually in them, like an orange or an apple, to take care of them from the inside out. Jesus cares for every part of you! Your brain, your heart, your lungs, your skin, everything. You’re entire body matters to God just the way it is. Jesus says that he will give you everything you need. We help each other remember this truth each Sunday with a little piece of bread and wine or grape juice, the truth that we know Jesus and so we know God’s love. We’re going to talk a little more about this.

We have the cold storage room in our basement right off of our laundry room that many Utah homes have. We use it for the storage of items such as baby clothes, baby toys, some camping items, etc. It’s also a convenient location to put items that you need to donate. When the pandemic started and basic items fell prey to supply chain issues, we bought a few things in bulk, yes, toilet paper (ok an aside from my Guam story last week, TP was one item that was rationed, so I’ve always had a thing for Costco bulk TP), paper towels, rice, beans, other canned goods and some cleaning supplies. We’ve never really been ones to have that kind of emergency food stocked up, but between the earthquake and COVID, we realized maybe it’s not horrible to have something. Because of this stocking up, Mike started calling the cold storage “The Apocalypse Room.” As the past year or more has gone on, that room began to fill with items that we no longer were using, or had replaced such as the coffee maker that constantly overflowed, the ceiling lights we replaced with ceiling fans, some stuff from our son, etc. We weren’t careful about how we threw stuff in and didn’t pay much attention to it until “The Apocalypse Room” began to overflow. It became so full that you had to dig to get to said TP or other things you might need. And it began to overflow into the laundry room. It was embarrassing. And overwhelming. And annoying. So last week, Mike and I gathered all that stuff up and he took it to Goodwill and then I organized what was left. What was left was less but exactly what we need. All that other stuff that filled the room, were things that were, well, just that, things. Things that didn’t fill any particular need or want, things that didn’t offer us anything other than covering up the things we really needed. It’s ironic that Mike calls it “The Apocalypse Room” as the word apocalypse means “to reveal.” What was revealed is that we didn’t need that room filled with all that other stuff.
I am often tempted by the lie of our consumer culture that our pantries, homes, lives need to be full to be happy and I even fall for it from time to time. Oh, that shirt will make my wardrobe complete, or that bag will make commuting so much easier and keep everything I need handy, or that protein shake will help me feel full to lose weight and be content with my appearance. But that kind of fulfilment never lasts. It turns out that I’ll always find that there is a reason to not be fulfilled. The more I try and fill myself, to get what I need for me alone, the emptier I feel. I long to be filled with what matters, with what sustains. I want a fulfilling life.
I know that left to my own devices right now, I could fill myself with the world’s goods. I could fill myself with cheap, snarky comments at people who disagree with me; I could fill myself with hoarding supplies; I could fill myself with self-righteous rage; I could fill myself with apathy; I could fill myself with the lie that I’m the only one who matters; I could fill myself with the delusion that I don’t have to change my behaviors for creation. I could fill myself, with well, me.

Luckily, I, nor you, are left to our own devices. God wants us filled with what matters as well. The gospel writer of John wants his community to trust that Jesus will indeed pour life into them; life that will over flow the fear, persecution, isolation and uncertainty the late first century people were experiencing. Jesus offers the shocking words to the crowds, disciples and religious leaders that filled with his very life blood, their lives will no longer be empty. Jesus had indeed given them food that filled their stomachs, but Jesus wants to fill them and us with so much more. When we are filled with Jesus, by Jesus, we become truly alive. We see life for all it is, the hard truths in our world and we are more careful about how we live; we pay closer attention to what matters. We live in God’s life and see the world with God’s eyes and heart.

Filled with the living Jesus, we notice that our earth, God’s creation, is literally on fire and know that it will take each of us changing how we live, both individually and corporately to stop the exploitation and destruction to the earth. It’s scary to pay attention to what is happening to the world, the report that just came out from the United Nations isn’t good. We’re past the point of stopping the earth’s warming but maybe if we all live carefully, we can keep it from getting too warm. We can reduce our consumption of fossil fuels, single use plastics, minimalize our consumer habits, reduce water waste and more.
Filled with the living Jesus, we pay attention to the crumbling healthcare systems and do what we can to slow the spread of COVID. We can all live carefully, and lovingly, together, wearing our masks, making hard decisions to not gather in large groups, or do indoor activities. We work to support medical staff.
Filled with the living Jesus, we live carefully with our words and actions in person and in on-line spaces. We can offer words that give life, dignity, worth and humanity to all people, we can use the correct pronouns for one another. We can not allow labels, name calling or other harmful behavior in our presence. We name vicious lies for what they are and not allow the truth to be buried.
Filled with the living Jesus, we pay attention to our own souls, we notice what is really, truly filling us. Is it fear, rage, worry, anxiety? And if so, how do we ensure that we make the most of our time to be filled with Jesus and the Holy Spirit? We can live carefully with how much social media, television and other distractions fill our days versus time in prayer, in faithful community, in scripture reading or other spiritual reading, in silence to listen for God’s wisdom.

Filled with the living Jesus, we live carefully trusting in God and responding to God’s pouring out of the Holy Spirit into us, into the world, with praise. That praise can be a simple “thank you,” music, a poem, a painting. Praise can be food for the hungry, shelter for the unhoused, accompaniment for the lonely, welcoming the refugee and the immigrants. Praise is being so filled with the living Jesus that it pours from us and fills other people with Jesus too.
When we are filled with the living Jesus, we fill others with Jesus, and true life that matters abounds. What is revealed is that eternal life is already here, for Jesus is already here. Yes, a day will come when our flesh and blood will be gone, but Jesus’ flesh and blood will still be filling God’s people who come after us and are yet, connected to us. Filled with the living Jesus, we give thanks to God, at all times for everything that


Anger Management Sermon on Ephesians 4: 25-5:2 August 8, 2021

This sermon was proclaimed in the community of Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church in Holladay, UT on August 8, 2021. It can be viewed on our YouTube channel Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church SLC.

The texts were:

1 Kings 19: 4-8
Ephesians 4:25-5:2
John 6: 35, 41-51
Young Friends message

When I was in fifth grade, my military family was stationed on Guam. It was not the most stress-free environment for a 10-year-old. Living on an island in the middle of the Pacific, in the middle of the Cold War, isolation from family, basic supplies rationed, lack of many amenities that one takes for granted on the mainland, disease was common, and even school was very different. We went to school off base, in a building that had concrete walls, tin roof, louvers instead of windows, no air conditioning, the door to the classroom opened straight to the outside, and families took turns providing a box fan for the classroom. The school property had been clear cut out of the jungle, so finding a jungle critter in your classroom or desk was not uncommon. Yes, kids are resilient and yes, I was a hyperaware, perfectionist, intuitive kid who was very stressed out. So basically, this personality you see before you today in a child. It was not good times for anyone in my family.

One day we were taking a test in my fifth grade classroom, and there was a breeze coming through the louvers that repeatedly blew my paper off my desk. After about the fourth or fifth time, I had had it. I snapped. I took my paper, tore it up into little pieces and stomped over to the trash can and threw them away, muttering under my breath with each step. My teacher, Mrs. Lucio, was stunned. Needless to say, my parents were called in with the concern that perhaps I needed to learn a little anger management. I remember being made to do a research paper on stress. I’m not sure that helped. But it did make me aware for the first time in my ten short years that stress was a thing and it was not a thing I was handling well. And this was when my dad introduced me to running. Unfortunately, what my ten-year-old self took away from that experience was that anger was bad, something to be pushed away, and a cause of shame. I spent a lot of years in my life thinking that I wasn’t allowed to be angry, which ironically, made me angry. It really hasn’t been all that long in my adult life that I’ve reconciled that anger is an ok emotion, just as all our emotions are neither good nor bad, but just are. What’s important about our emotions is how we act or don’t act on them. Or as theologian Father Richard Rohr says, “pain that isn’t transformed is transmitted.” Hurting people, hurt people.

What I also didn’t learn until I was an adult, is that anger is a secondary emotion. Anger often masks other emotions such as fear or sadness. Anger is a response to any other emotion. Anger can seem less vulnerable than admitting your sad or scared. Anger is part of our armor that we hope protects and separates us from what is sad or scary. It’s also one of the phases of grief. Clearly, I wasn’t angry at the wind or the test. I was grieving that my life wasn’t what I was used to living in the US. I was moving through the phases of grief, the shock of a different culture, the denial that I couldn’t force my life to be the same, anger that I couldn’t control anything, bargaining wasn’t even a possibility for my young self, and yes, eventually some acceptance that there were gifts in this phase of life too. This wouldn’t be the last time I moved through these waves of grief, and I have learned to recognize them a bit sooner. And I have learned to recognize when others are grieving. That recognition of someone’s grief allows my anger to be transformed and can lead me to come to the comfort and aid of others. Anger can be transformed.

There’s a lot of anger in our society right now because we’re a grieving society. And it’s ok. We have a lot to grieve, I would affirm. We’re going through the stages of grief around a virus, racial injustice, economic stress and more. So, we’re angry. We’re angry at the people denying the virus and the science. We’re angry that some people are willing to bargain their own convenience over the health of others. We’re angry that people aren’t willing to care for and love their neighbor. We’re angry at the exposed wealth and equality gaps. We’re angry at the death toll. We’re angry that we can’t even grieve, come together as a community for support and love the way we are used to.
So. what do we do with our grief: with our shock, denial, anger, bargaining for what can’t be, and get to some reconciliation or acceptance of what is? I don’t have a prescriptive plan for you such as five ways to deal with your grief or an anger management program. I don’t think a research paper will help this heart problem. But here’s what I do know: we are created in God’s image and called to imitate God our creator. You might recall from the biblical witness that God gets angry too. And we don’t have time today to dig too deeply into some of those traumatizing and problematic stories, and yes, the Flood narrative is difficult, the plague of the killing of the first born is horrific, the exile stories are puzzling, and my intent this morning is not to deal with the paradox or gloss over it but simply to say yes, those are hard stories and yes, God’s anger is real. I would offer that perhaps even God recognized that God’s anger wasn’t always handled well. But here’s the good news for us on imitating God: For God so loved the world. God’s anger always kindled greatest when we were harming each other, not loving each other, and separating ourselves from one another and ultimately God. But God never stopped loving us or creation. God never gave up on relationship with us, God didn’t use anger as an armor to separate from us. God’s anger was transformed by God’s love. God’s love for us moved God past anger, to covenants with God’s people over and over. God sent Jesus to be the final promise of never letting us go. And yes, Jesus got angry too, flipping over tables and systems that harmed people. God never tolerates oppression, harm, separation, or evil. Never. So, when we are admonished to imitate God, we are to love the world, both humanity and creation, with tenacity.

We are to take our anger, our grief, and allow the Holy Spirit to transform us to act out of love for our neighbor. We recognize our own waves of grief, so that we can support and empathize with others in their waves of grief. We are in a scary time, which is why we are angry. And God accepts us just as we are, imperfections, anger and all, and loves us. God doesn’t want our anger to cause us to sin against our neighbor, God wants our anger to open us to love and care for our neighbor. Our anger moves us to feed the hungry, welcome the stranger and foreigner without conditions, house the homeless, ensure clean water and air for the next generation, and act for the care of all creation. That is eternal and abundant life. Life together, messy life together, fully accepted by God who loves the world. This is our baptismal promise from God. That our grief, our anger is held and transformed by God’s love.

We are going to practice letting go of anger, allowing it to transform our hearts and continue in our process of imitating God. You have a card in your bulletin, and if you don’t, please raise your hand and one will be brought to you. Take a moment and write what is making you angry right now. Then you can tear it up, and place the pieces in the font. God promises to accept our anger and transform our anger into love for the world.


Never Torn Apart August 2, 2021

This sermon was proclaimed at Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church in Holladay, UT on August 1, 2021. It can be viewed on our YouTube channel: Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church SLC.

The texts were:

Exodus: 16: 2-4, 9-16
Ephesians 4: 1-16
John 6: 24-35

Young Friends message: I have here a Lego car from my son’s Lego collection. In order for this to look and work like a car, it took many pieces to be joined together. What happens when I take the wheel off? Is the wheel by itself a car? Can the car work without all four wheels? Nope! What happens in your family if someone doesn’t do their chores, then the rest of the family has to either do them or maybe dinner doesn’t get made, or laundry done. Church is like that too! Without people serving here in worship, or this Friday at Millcreek when we all helped to put up bulletin boards, it takes us all doing a little bit for great things to happen. God loves this, when we work together and this is what we’re reading more about in the letter to the Ephesian people today. God wants us to work together, to be like one object like this Lego car, for God’s love to shine. And so we put away our worries about ourselves. Which is hard, and sometimes we have to work with people we don’t like, or think differently than us, or have different needs. But God tells us that we are to look out for people who need something different and make sure that everyone is included. When we are missing someone or missing you, it’s like missing a piece of this Lego car, and then we don’t work as well. We need everyone, all ages, all stages, all sizes, all talents. And we need you! You matter in our community and I hope that you know that. It’s a hard concept called unity and we’re going to talk a little more about that as it’s hard for adults too!

I have a confession to make: I’m not sure what true unity is supposed to look like. I don’t. I want to know what unity looks like, and I find myself pondering and searching for how the words in Ephesians chapter 4 could be true. I desperately want them to be true. I shake my head every day at the lack of empathy in our society and wonder how in the world are we ever going to live into the oneness that Jesus prays for in John 17 and is laid out for us in the letter to the Ephesians. I looked up the Websters definition for unity and here’s what I found: “the quality or state of not being multiple, a condition of harmony, continuity without deviation or change as in for purpose or action, and finally, a totality of related parts, an entity that is a complex or systematic whole, being joined as a whole.” Never was it mentioned that unity meant all being the same, but the focus was on how pieces worked together as one. Perhaps what we need as a people is to review this definition from time to time. I know that I get caught in the false belief that unity is about sameness. Yet, oneness and sameness, are not the same thing and not even to be desired, Jesus says.

Unity is a hard reality for us to live into, as we tend to fear what or who is different. Fear makes unity, joining together for a common purpose, harder. Fear fragments us internally and propels us to cause external division and fragmentation. This week someone attempted to fragment us by cutting our RIC banner in half. Who it was is unknown and honestly, maybe it doesn’t matter all that much. Whomever it was is a child of God, who may feel that this sign of division instead of radical inclusion, they may confuse unity with sameness, and they felt a need to visually represent this fear by cutting the banner in half. They reacted to the idea of radical togetherness, after all being joined to people is scary stuff. Being joined to people who you know and don’t know is vulnerable. Being joined in purpose, action and life to people is indeed complex and may not always work how we think it should. When we’re joined together, our purpose or role might shift. This banner being cut in half could lead us to wonder if we’re cutting people off who believe that differences in sexual orientation, gender, or race either don’t exist and shouldn’t be joined to our lives of faith. After all, isn’t one faith everyone believing the exact same thing? There are some who have a list of what or who shouldn’t be joined to our lives of faith as “good Christians.”  Should “good Christians” be politically active? Support secular peace and justice movements such as BLM? Talk about sexuality, big business, climate change? Should “good Christians” hang out with people who listen to death metal, swear, drink or are into slasher movies?

 First off, I’m not sure what a “good Christian” even means as we are all saints and sinners and Jesus never really addresses this. Second, I believe we’re more comfortable figuring out how to be disjointed from certain people and activities than joined as one people with God as Jesus prays in John 17. When Jesus feeds the 5,000, he is joining them as one people, he is taking their fragmented lives and knitting them together. We rarely think about who was in that crowd being fed together, but statistically speaking, there were probably thieves, outcasts, sex workers, beggars, manipulators, shepherds, carpenters, moms, dads, surly teenagers, cute babies, grandmas, grandpas, addicts, essentially people of all kinds. I wonder if the miracle, the work of God, that Jesus is pointing in our gospel today, is less about the bread and fish, and more about everyone sitting down together. Sitting and standing next to people is very different. When you stand next to someone, you have a quick escape if you will. But we all know the angst of deciding who you’re going to sit with in the school cafeteria or in the south wing at fellowship time or here in worship. Maybe it’s why no one will sit up front with me? Once you sit down with someone, you’re stuck. You’re in this meal/fellowship/worship time together whether you like it or not. You’re joined together.

The irony is that our deepest fear as humans is being alone, cut off from what and who matters most. We want to be joined in relationships, just on our own terms. Jesus shows us that we are joined as one, but on God’s terms, and for God, everyone and everything is joined together. Nothing is excluded from God’s life and so, too, in our lives, including our lives of faith. As Lutherans, our heritage is built on the truth that every aspect of our lives is holy and belongs to God, even the parts we might be ashamed of. This is the work of God, Jesus says, that faith, belief in Jesus leads us to be joined together, even if it’s uncomfortable. God’s work is drawing us together as one body, to be one in faith, in the Spirit, in baptism, in love. That is the bread of life that sustains, as when we are joined to each other and God, our fragments are made whole, and we join one another ensuring food, shelter, health, and community to promote growth, flourishing, and thriving for all.  This is the action of unity, of love. This is the joining all aspects of our lives: the secular, the mundane, into our lives of faith. If harm is happening to any part of the body, we must speak that truth in love for our neighbor. Even if it’s unpopular and people try and cut us off. We are called to build each other up, not tear each other down.
Perhaps this is the unity that I am searching for. Perhaps this is the unity that whoever damaged our banner was searching for. The unity we aspire to in our welcome statement. True unity where we can’t cut each other off, even if we want to. True unity sitting together in tension and discomfort for the sake of the purpose of including everyone into God’s kingdom. True unity of together looking into the wilderness, into the uncertainty, as the Israelites did, and seeing the unwavering presence of God, who promises to always be joined to us, building us up in love each moment of each day. Love that joins us and refuses to let us be torn apart. It is unifying love that is above all, through all, is in all, joins all and builds us all up. Amen.