HOPE Holding Onto Promises Expectantly November 29, 2021

This sermon was proclaimed at Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church in Holladay, UT on Nov. 28, 2021, Advent 1 Year C. It can be viewed on our YouTube channel: Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church SLC. The texts were:

Jeremiah 33: 14-16
Psalm 25: 1-10
Luke 21: 25-36

Young friends message: Ok I want you to right where you are crouch down like this (show them how to get small where they can’t lift their heads very well or see much, particularly in the pews) and tell me what you see: Accept all answers. Ok, now, stand up and tell me what you see: accept all answers. In what position could you see more? Standing up! You can lift your head better, turn around, etc. Which for you was more comforting when you could see more or less? Why? Yep, sometimes that can go either way, sometimes we’re happy seeing less, knowing less and not worrying about as much. And sometimes we feel comforted seeing the whole landscape, seeing everything that is around us. This is the first week in Advent for the Church, every Christian church everywhere is starting a new liturgical year today. Sort of like New Years for the Church. Advent means “an arrival” and we are waiting both for the arrival of Christmas, when we celebrate Jesus’ birth, but we are also waiting for the full arrival of God’s kingdom. We have a good idea of what Christmas day will look like for each of us, probably going to church, presents, family, a meal together, but we don’t know what the arrival of God’s kingdom will look like and so people try and guess. People will try and scare us that God’s kingdom coming WILL be scary, and want us to be afraid so that we crouch down and hide. But Jesus says, don’t be scared. Stand up! See it all! Don’t hide from something because it might look scary or new. Even when we’re scared, or confused, or unsure, Jesus words of love, mercy, and hope never leave us, or as Jesus says “my words will not pass away.” Scary situations end, and new experiences become known, but God’s love and presence with us never ends and that gives us something called “hope” which is what we think about on the first Sunday of the Church year. I thought of an acronym for HOPE: Holding Onto Promises Expectantly. Hope lets us stand up and see God’s work even when we’re scared. Hope is isn’t making a wish, hope is continuing to look for God and share God’s love even when we don’t understand the world around us. God promises to hold us, to never let us go, and it’s in that promise that we can live in hope. So whenever you see signs of hope, like new leaves on a tree, or a baby animal or baby human, that is God’s hope holding on to you. We’re going to talk about this more.

HOPE-it’s a four-letter word that is tossed around almost as much as the word LOVE in our society with as little understanding of what it means. Hope is often confused with wishes, or naivety. Hope is different than either of those concepts however, as hope, like love, is active. Hope isn’t passively sitting around waiting for circumstances to change, not saccharine sentimentalism, no, hope moves us to be part of the force that will change circumstances. Hope is vision and action melded together in a way that can be a powerful catalyst for transformation if we allow it to be. Loss of hope is devastating and many of us have witnessed someone who has lost hope. When hope is absent, it’s as if we curl in on ourselves like when we crouched down a minute ago. Losing hope goes along with losing vision, losing perspective, losing connection. While I am not necessarily an optimistic person, I want to always remain a hopeful one. I hope to keep seeing the world how it really is while also being able to imagine how the world COULD be when we proclaim that the kingdom of God is near. And I know that some do not share this hopefulness. There have been a couple of stories lately about the rise of young adults saying that they do not want to have children at all. The reasons range from lack of financial abilities to the belief that the world is not progressing for the better and they don’t want to bring a child into a dystopian future. Essentially, there is a lack of hope that anything will transform for the better. I don’t want to critique this worldview, as I do understand it, I really do, and I can’t adhere to it either. I believe that this is where our message as followers of Jesus matters immensely in our world today, and we have an obligation and a duty to speak hope into a world that seems to be leaning into hopelessness.

On this first Sunday of Advent, we light the candle of HOPE and hear these passages from Jeremiah, Psalm 25 and Luke and wonder how they help us to speak hope: the Holding Onto Promises Expectantly, into the world, when it seems what is reinforced is calamity, fear and confusion. We need to take a step back and see the forest for the trees, see the big picture, which hope helps us to do. In Jeremiah, we hear what God will do: cause new life to spring up from a dead branch. Life where none existed. In Psalm 25 that we will read after the sermon (spoiler alert), it’s a prayer of God’s steadfastness, love and covenant, which means promises, to hold on to us no matter what. Jesus in Luke 21 recalls the promise that when everything that we know, trust and think is certain, passes away, or dies, God’s word, God’s presence, will not. God’s presence holds us in hope, that God’s kingdom will prevail and God’s love will flow. So don’t bury your heads, stand up, lift your heads, and see the signs of hope and share them. Lifting our heads, our hearts, our lives in prayer are one way that we hold onto promised expectations of new life, that it won’t always be this way, and we are called to be part of the transformation. Jesus shows us this hope in action: feeding the hungry, being in community with the outcast, the lowly and the people whom society declared worthless, turning over tables of exploitation. Jesus’ life was one of hope, hope that didn’t stay still but went from community to community actively proclaiming that God’s hope is real, and holds us, even in suffering and death. God holds on to us, God’s loving grip on us can’t be shaken, and so we are freed to live and act on this hope, we aren’t trapped by the hopelessness of the world, but we lift our heads and clearly see the world how it is and work to bring the transformational reality of God’s kingdom to creation. This is our redemption, our healing, what we look up to see: God holding out all hope and expectation that we are being transformed in this waiting time for the kingdom to fully come and that we hold out all hope that God will keep God’s promises for abundant life to come now, for healing mercy to come now, and for unending love to come now. We stand in the promises of God, that this transformation will come upon all who live on the face of the earth. We stand in this hope, we stand before the love of Jesus. For we can do no other.   Amen.

Sermon for Maraget Warrick November 21, 2021

This sermon was proclaimed at the worship service celebrating the baptismal journey of Margaret Warrick at First United Methodist Church in Salt Lake City, UT. It can be viewed on their YouTube Channel: First United Methodist Church SLC.
The texts were: Psalm 121
Revelation 7: 15-17
John 14: 1-7

When we think of the life and faith of Margaret Warrick, we all immediately begin to hum, whistle or sing a beloved hymn, Bach fugue or toccata. For most of us, music is icing on our life’s cakes, but for Margaret, it was the cake, icing, candles, decorations…it was life and her life in God. As her children, Steven, Carolyn Janet, Susan and husband of nearly 72 years Harry and I gathered to plan this day, the music was central, sacred and holy. There were so many hymns and organ pieces that could have been chosen. Music was how God’s word, love and mercy flowed to the world for Margaret, and she cherished proclaiming that loving, merciful and grace-filled word to us every chance she could. For me, one of the hymns on my lips when I remember Margaret, is “My Life Flows on in Endless Song.” The refrain asks us “how can I keep from singing?” The fact is that Margaret couldn’t keep from singing or playing the music that welled up in her.
Margaret’s life of 94 years sang out to the world in so many ways, yes in serving as a church organist faithfully relaying the gospel week after week in music, and her life sang to her beloved students for nearly 70 years, her PEO sisters, and her family. Margaret’s heart couldn’t keep from singing, when she met this tall, lanky young man at Boise State where they were both enrolled. Her heart sang so boldly, that she invited Harry to a dance! Yes, their first date of the 75-year romance involved music.
I can only imagine the music that burst forth from her when her four children were born. When I would visit Margaret and Harry, her joy, pride and love for the four of you and your families couldn’t be contained. I felt like I knew you before we met. In that way, Margaret shared her gift of music by connecting other people to her life’s song. As the new pastor in town, Margaret called me weekly for a while in the midst of the pandemic to check on me. Her life not only sang with joy but with generosity and care.

She genuinely cared about people, not only people she knew but people in general. Musicians often have a deep intuition and tap into the broader social emotions of the world around them, and Margaret was no exception. Margaret wanted all people to have the love and care that they deserved as God’s people, the life that she knew in the love and care of God. Just as music was foundational for her, the core of who she was, so her faith and love in Jesus was deeply intertwined. Music was how she experienced and knew God’s love, care, protection and shelter in her life. How she knew that she wasn’t alone on her journey, that God sheltered her all her days, as the psalmist wrote in Psalm 121 that Pastor AJ read. And now her eternal life in the arms of Jesus, indeed flows on in the endless song of praise and she sings, or perhaps even plays the organ in worship of God continuously in God’s presence.
Margaret’s life song flowed to us and the song doesn’t end with her death. Margaret’s song of love, grace, hope and faith still sings to us today and each day to come. Her life’s song still rings in our ears and in our hearts and we add our own voices to the song. The song that tells us of God’s love through Jesus, the promises of God for abundant life here and now, the promise that there is room for all voices in this song of love that Margaret and we so intimately know. And joining our voices together in the chorus of God’s people, we sing of new life today and the life to come in the Kingdom of God.
Jesus’ love song resonated in Margaret for 94 years and now she claims her baptismal promise of eternal life in the music of God’s kingdom. This song of faith, hope and love was for Margaret, and is for you, for me and for us all. May this love song from Jesus surround you, hold you and may your life flow on in endless song you can’t keep from singing. Amen.

What We Seek Sermon on Matthew 6

This sermon was proclaimed in the community of Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church in Holladay, UT on Nov. 21, 2021. It is the last Sunday of our liturgical year. Worship can be viewed on our YouTube channel: Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church SLC. The texts were:

Psalm 126
1 Timothy 2: 1-7
Matthew 6: 25-33

Young Friends message: What does your shout for joy sound like? Have you shouted for joy lately? Yes! Those are all good reasons to shout for joy! Has anything made you cry lately? You don’t have to share what-we all have things that make us cry. Where have you seen God in your life? That’s harder isn’t it? Sometimes we see God in our joy and sometimes we see God in our sadness and sometimes we have a hard time seeing God at all. In our confirmation classes and youth group, we share our highs/lows and God moments, where we’ve seen God in our lives. Highs and lows are easier, aren’t they, but it’s about us and our experiences, but God moments are harder, often we have to stop and really wonder where we’ve seen God. That’s ok. All our bible stories that we just read today, are about how we as people struggle to see God in our lives, and how we can seek what God is doing, or what Jesus calls “seeking the kingdom of God.” That sounds like going on a quest like in Lord of the Rings or Indiana Jones, but what Jesus is saying, is look for where God is doing God-like things. What are God-like things? (Accept all answers) We’re going to talk a bit more about that.

Seeking the kingdom of God feels complicated and a bit esoteric, doesn’t it? Seeking the kingdom of God seems like something only the very spiritual, pious or mystical can do, like the 4^th century desert fathers and mothers or monks, it’s not for the everyday Jesus follower. One must be endowed with some sort of spiritual vision to seek the kingdom of God these days it seems to me. As I just mentioned, one of the rituals I have taught families, including my own, congregations and other gatherings, is to share your highs/lows and God sightings or sometimes I call them God moments. Nearly every person can quickly and easily come up with their high’s and lows for the day or week. As a matter of fact, I want you to turn to the person closest to you now and offer one high and one low for the week. I’ll give you about 90 seconds… That’s not too hard for most of us. We can recall what has made us joyful and what caused us to weep with accuracy and speed. We focus easily on ourselves. But God sightings? I bet right now you’re all scrambling in your brains to come up with where you saw God afraid that I’m going to make you do that next and you won’t have anything with substance to offer. Don’t worry, you’ve got time and I’ll prime you.
I know for me, it can be difficult to seek the kingdom of God, to see what God is doing in the world amid the noise and worry in the world. I can focus on what worries me, what impacts me and what will happen to me. So much grabs my attention, from the mundane: is my retirement fund enough or hoping that the grocery store has what I need, to the seemingly endless injustices of our nation and world: lack of equal pay, the lack of equal healthcare, housing, and this week how our legal system isn’t a justice system. I get worried about the future and how I can ensure safety, security and welfare of myself and others. The reality is while those concerns can seem valid, urgent and necessary, the truth is I can’t see God’s presence, God’s God-like actions when I’m only looking at what I’m worried about.
Jesus, in his sermon on the mount here in Matthew, knows that as humans this is our reality. We have so many worries, and we miss God’s invitation to trust in God. I have to admit that to compare our lives to the lilies of the fields or the birds of the air feels quaint and naïve, I mean, oh Jesus, that’s so adorable! There life span is so short, and they don’t have to prepare for old age! But that is Jesus’ point. They inherently trust God, now, obviously, they don’t articulate that, but they trust that whatever they do that day, is enough, that they will have enough, and their purpose is fulfilled. They live fully present in this day. Jesus is inviting us to look beyond our worries and see what God is doing, to see God’s kingdom coming before our very eyes. To see and know God’s God-like actions.
When I take a step back and do this, I can see God at work. I see God’s work, God’s kingdom coming in how we are welcoming and caring for the Afghan refugees in our community. I see God’s kingdom in how government agencies, yes, you heard correctly, the government, is working with Family Promise to ensure that FP gets the grants they need to house more families this winter. I see God’s Kingdom in how this community cares for our seniors and young families with care packages. And sometimes I see God at work in places I won’t go, I don’t want to see and in people I don’t like. God at work in our world can also seem dangerous and distasteful. I’m reminded that we seek a kingdom where the lowly, poor and powerless are centered. Jesus was God in action with the sick, the leprous, women who were abused, the children neglected, in over throwing tables of injustice and exploitation, in being arrested, beaten and executed. God’s actions don’t always make sense, but God’s actions are always about bringing life and hope where we see only death and hopelessness. God’s action in resurrecting Jesus is against all odds and is exactly what we seek. What are your God sightings this week? Again turn to the person closest to you for about 90 seconds:
Jesus understands that what we see first, is what our vision will be. Jesus invites us to seek God’s kingdom first in our lives, to see how God cares for us, first and foremost. God looks on us with love and care and desires for us to return that gaze not only to God but each other. When we seek out God’s kingdom, we see our neighbor through the eyes of God’s vision where healing, mercy, trust and love flow. When we can trust this vision of God, we learn to trust each other, which ultimately is God’s vision. Trust that we will emulate God’s actions, that we will care for each other, put the flourishing and well-being of people different from us, those we know and don’t know, ahead of our own worries about ourselves. God seeks first our good, our well-being, our flourishing each day. God seeks you: to be with you, to love you and to hold you. As we end this liturgical year, and begin a new one, we seek God’s presence, love, hope and kingdom to come for us and for all creation. Amen.

Forces of Life and Breath Sermon on Mark 13 November 14, 2021

This sermon was proclaimed at Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church in Holladay, UT on Nov. 14, 2021. It can be viewed on our YouTube channel: Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church SLC. The texts were:

Daniel 12: 1-3
Psalm 16
Mark 13: 1-8
Young Friends message: This week’s story of Jesus and his disciples wondering about the future and what to do about it got me to thinking about how we know when we’re going astray. What does it mean to go astray? (Accept all answers) So how do we know when we’re not going astray? (Accept all answers) It’s hard! We often don’t know but we have to trust that God will keep us from going astray, which we pray in the Lord’s Prayer: “and lead us not into temptation.”
Well, we were talking about this in Monday Bible study (all of you are invited! 1:30 p.m. on Zoom!) and Bertram taught me something about physics that I didn’t know but for me connects and helps me to ponder the forces of God in my life: the concepts of static and dynamic equilibrium. Static means no movement, dynamic means movement and equilibrium roughly means in balance or centered. *Bertram will show them how these concepts work by attempting to balance a wooden dowl on his finger (when the dowl moves in the slightest, equilibrium is lost and it falls. But when he holds the dowl vertically from his fingers, when the dowl is pushed or pulled, it will come back to center and equilibrium is maintained even though it’s moving. Thank you Bertram! While these concepts aren’t EXACTLY what is happening here in our gospel story with Jesus, I think it can remind us that the world will try and push and pull us, try and scare us, dazzle us with big buildings, bright shiny objects but God’s force of life and love will always bring us back to God. We’re going to talk a little more about that now.

Many folks don’t know that I am a trained birth doula. The main role of a birth doula is to accompany and guide the birth team. Often that means encouragement, offering different positions and movements, breathing techniques, and helping the birth team work together even if the birth plan doesn’t quite pan out the way they planned. The breathing is very important as when we are in pain, suffering and fear, we tend to hold our breath. This response is an attempt to control the situation and to not cause more pain. But in reality, it does the opposite. Not breathing intensifies the body’s fear response and causes us to lose focus. So as a doula, getting the mom and dad to breathe, by breathing with them, draws them back to the here and now. One contraction at a time, one breath at a time. Often a mom will say something like “I can’t do this.” And I say, “You are doing this, we are together.” Yes, it’s hard, and yes, those birth pangs are real, and yes, a new life is coming. When I was a hospital chaplain as part of my clergy training, I discovered that all my doula training was relevant for the dying as well. Bringing the dying person and the family back to the present, breathing with them, one breath at a time, one dying pang at a time was also beneficial. Family members would often echo what those birthing women said, “I can’t do this.” But I would say, “You are doing this, we are together.” It turns out that these life transitions have much in common, wanting to know the exact time and date of the life transition ahead of time, fear of what is next, fear of more pain, fear of the life change that is about to happen. It’s all very decentering, and pulls us into places that aren’t life giving, that feel isolating, and despondent. We don’t know which way to go: give into the fear or stay in the moment. But regardless, a new life is being revealed. Now breathing and being in the moment with community doesn’t take away the pain, but it allows us to endure it and focus on the new life that is awaiting us on the other side.
 There is so much is pushing and pulling us in different directions right now, and it seems we can’t even catch our breath. So much is being revealed in our world and we don’t know what to make of it. While, this level of global anxiety is new to us, it’s not new to history. Chapter 13 in the gospel of Mark is often referred to as the “Little Apocalypse.” Now we hear that word and usually what comes to mind is some sort of dystopian society, but that is not what the word “apocalypse” means. It means revelation, revealing, an uncovering. In Jesus time, it was being revealed that the Pax Romana, the Peace of Roman, was only peace for the rich and powerful. We pick up Mark’s story with Jesus and disciples exiting the Temple where Jesus had turned over tables, confronted and denounced the chief priests and scribes with their own hypocrisy and called attention to the widow who literally had nothing to lose, because she had so little to give, so she gave it all away as a protest of the unequal Temple taxation. So, despite all this, apparently what the disciples got from it was how impressive, impenetrable, and too big to fail the Temple was. I can almost see Jesus shaking his head in disbelief at how easily they were led astray by the myth of human achievement. Pulled into the allure of grandeur and grandness.

But led astray they were, as all humans are, and lovingly and firmly, Jesus reminds them that nothing of human origin is forever and they need to not be pulled and pushed by the values, norms and fears of the world. Yes, this will all go away and some person will come along telling you that they have all the answers about God and the future. They will lead you astray through your fear and anxiety of the future. There have been and always will be forces that will try and capture your imagination, capitalize on your sense of self-preservation, and need for control. These forces will seem the strongest, the most alluring, the safest bet. But they are not a force that will bring life; they are forces and ultimately bring death and separation. We can’t escape pain and suffering, no matter how hard we try, and we will be pushed and pulled by those forces, but the promise Jesus says, is God’s force of life is always stronger. These birth pangs, that seem like death pangs, the pain that must occur for new life to emerge, is a stronger force that draws us into the very heart and life of God.
When everything seems to be ending, it’s because new things are beginning. God’s life and love force is always on the move in our lives through the Holy Spirit and is more powerful than the other forces of the world. God is a dynamic, moving God who desires to center us in relationship with God and each other. Just as when Bertram tried to create equilibrium on one finger, with just the slightest disruption, the stick fell. But when Bertram held the dowl with more than one finger, equilibrium, being centered could occur. Yes, the dowl could be acted upon, but the dowl was always brought back to center. We don’t have to fear movement, change or newness, because God is always our center, breathing with us in the Holy Spirit. God is our center when everything else falls around us. Walls may crumble but that let’s in the light and for us to see the new life on the other side. The crumbled walls of security, status quo, comfort allow us to see how those walls were never forever. Everything will change, we will change, our own walls of self-preservation, ego, fear and control must crumble for God to reveal new life to us. We might get dusty, dirty and a little bruised, but God will pull us form the rubble into new life. God’s life force courses through us and all creation. Each time we breath, we are taking in the very life of God. And we are doing it, together. Breath by breath, each moment of pain and suffering at a time, releasing the worry of what might come next but trusting in God’s promise of abundant life. This is the hope that we live into, God’s life and love pulls us more closely to God and each other, for the life of the world to come. Amen.

BLESSING OF BREATHING

That the first breath

will come without fear.

That the second breath

will come without pain.

The third breath:

that it will come without despair.

And the fourth,

without anxiety.

That the fifth breath

will come with no bitterness.

That the sixth breath

will come for joy.

Breath seven:

that it will come for love.

May the eighth breath

come for freedom.

And the ninth,

for delight.

When the tenth breath comes,

may it be for us

to breathe together,

and the next,

and the next,

until our breathing

is as one,

until our breathing

is no more.

—Jan Richardson

from The Cure for Sorrow: A Book of Blessings for Times of Grief

Image: “Until the Breath of God Breathes in Me”

© janrichardsonimages.com

Lord, If You Had Been Here: All Saints Year B 2021 November 7, 2021

This sermon was proclaimed in the community of Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church in Holladay, UT on Nov. 7, 2021 commemorating All Saints Sunday. It can be viewed on our YouTube channel: Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church SLC. The texts were:

Isaiah 25: 6-9
Psalm 24
Revelation 21: 1-6a
John 11: 32-44

Young friends message: Have a Where’s Waldo book-talk about how hard it is to find Waldo and even though you know that he has to be somewhere on the page, the longer you look, the more you start to doubt that Waldo really exists. But then you see him and then you can’t unsee him, and if someone else is still looking, you might be like, oh it’s easy! See he’s right there! I kinda dislike those Where’s Waldo books, my kids loved them. I have to admit that if I don’t find Waldo in what I consider a reasonable amount of time, I give up and go do something else. But it will bug me that I can’t find him too. It kinda makes me mad. How about you? Our gospel story this morning is called the Raising of Lazarus, but that’s not really what the whole story is about. It’s about how we wonder where Jesus is sometimes, and why we don’t see Jesus easily or exactly when we want to. Mary and Martha were Lazarus’ sisters, and they were mad at Jesus because he didn’t come right when they wanted him to and they didn’t see how God could possibly be at work in the midst of the death of their brother. They were so sad, and mad that Lazarus had died. When people we love or a pet dies, we feel so many emotions! What are some emotions you feel? Yep, sad, mad, confused, scared, all of them at once sometimes. And you know what, all emotions are ok, God doesn’t mind that your mad at God. As a matter of fact, in our story today, we heard that Jesus was “greatly disturbed,” do you know what that really means? Angry. Jesus was also angry that his friend had died and his other friends were suffering. Jesus doesn’t want anyone to suffer.
Jesus wants us to see life even when death is close and to know that God is with us even if we can’t see God. God’s voice will call to us even if we’re locked away, like Lazarus. And God gives us people to help us to see God, like the people who took off Lazarus’ grave clothes. We see God in one another, and we help each other to find God no matter what. We’re going to talk a little more about that.

“Lord, if you had been here.” How many times in my life have I uttered these or similar words? I will admit to you that over the past 19 months it has been often. Over 5 million souls in the world and 750,000 souls in the US alone dead from COVID19. Not to mention those who have died because of the stressed medical system. The numbers are probably much higher and staggering. “Lord if you had been here.” All the division, all the hate speech, all the fear-mongering, all the selfishness of personal freedom, all the worry of money over people’s health, have made me wonder where God is and where God is at work. Like Mary and Martha, I know what Jesus can do, I know and believe in the power of healing and of abundant life and like Mary and Martha I just don’t understand why it doesn’t happen on my timeline or how I want. I want to see God’s power now as I can’t bear the thought of another parent burying their child, or a young mother taken too soon, or a whole species of animal going extinct, or my children and maybe someday, grandchildren living in a world where water, food and shelter are inaccessible, or scarce. I hold these things in tension daily, and maybe you do too.
“Lord, if you had been here.” I look for Jesus’ power in the world I want it to prevail, not someday but today. That seems altruistic enough, doesn’t it? Yet, I know that isn’t the way it works. I know that suffering is real, will continue and I know that suffering scares us all silly. It scares us so much that we deny it, convince ourselves that other people suffered for some reason: old age, bad DNA, self-inflicted by smoking, drinking, or obesity. We yearn to control the suffering and when we can’t, we demand that Jesus does. But Jesus can’t and doesn’t control suffering, suffering is part of living, and yes, it can be and often is random. We don’t know why Lazarus died, because it doesn’t matter. Death is a part of life, but it’s not the final word. Jesus is mad that suffering and death has invaded his friends’ lives, he’s angry, sorrowful to the point of tears that this can’t be avoided, not even for himself.
“Lord, if you had been here.” Jesus goes to the grave, leading the grieving crowd and us right to death, to stare at it and acknowledge it. Jesus knows that when we face death, it loses its power, its control, its sting. Jesus commands the crowd of witnesses to remove the stone and then audibly prays to God to let life’s power over death to be found, to be seen. Jesus’ voice calls to Lazarus to come out, and Lazarus obeys; maybe he didn’t even want to, maybe he was content to rest. But out he comes and again, Jesus has the community remove the shroud of death so that life is seen. The first faces Lazarus would have gazed on would not have been Jesus’ but his community, his friends and family. Jesus was there, but maybe the truth is that the community had Jesus with them the whole time.
“Lord, if you had been here.” Like Mary and Martha, like the crowds, we want to see Jesus’ power evident in our world. And like Mary and Martha and the crowds, we miss what is right in front of us the whole time, saints of God who can show us the abundant life and love of Jesus, if we only can remove the shroud of death from our faces and unbind our hearts. We can see the faithfulness of June Garrity in how she raised her son despite hardships, the care of Frank Elwart for his family, for the tenderness of Emma Peterson who trusted God each day, for the joyful spark of Bernie who cherished her family dearly, for Margaret, whose commitment to serving God through her music enriched us all. Each of these saints helped remove the shroud of death and showed us that Jesus was, is and will always be here, in one another. We might need help to see, but together we can reveal the promises of God for life for all creation. We remember in the bread and wine that feasting is here and abundance is real in the midst of the lies of scarcity. We trust in Jesus’ presence in our suffering, in our fear, in our uncertainty, amid death. We go to the grave, not to stop there, but to go through it, to remove its power and move forward to new life, to a new creation. God will wipe our tears, not because tears are bad, or wrong, no, God wipes our tears because God cries with us, and sits in the grief because sitting in grief is sitting in love. We grieve deeply because we love deeply. The Apostle Paul acknowledges that “love never ends” and our grief will not end until the power of death is no more in our lives.
 So, we move through the grief, through the suffering, through the grave, not alone, but with the saints of past, present and future, saints who call to us “Come out, the Lord is here!” We unbind each other in Jesus’ love for abundant life here and now because Jesus is here. Amen.