We are called together as a congregation, a community that eventually we see is global in scope, to help each other walk God’s path of love and so bring life to the world.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Third Sunday in Lent, year C
Texts: Luke 13:1-9; Isaiah 55:1-9

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

Be careful not to read the Bible all by yourself.

Obviously, you can read it when you’re alone. We all do. Just don’t read it all by yourself, as if it’s only speaking to you. That can confuse you about God’s desires. Even leave you in despair.

Take Jesus’ ominous words today: “unless you repent, you will perish like they did.” What are you supposed to do with that? What repentance do I need to do to avoid perishing? Are we talking about actual death, Jesus? It’s frightening.

Or take Isaiah’s question. Isaiah invites you to walk God’s way and be fed by God’s words. They are rich food to you, Isaiah and the psalmist agree. So why do you seek things that can’t satisfy you? Isaiah asks. Why are you going astray? Less frightening than Jesus, but still, how do you walk God’s way if you’ve only struggled to do it so far?

But what if you don’t read the Bible all by yourself? You hear Jesus’ words and Isaiah’s invitation and remember you have this this family of God here on your side, walking with you. Jesus actually uses a plural pronoun here: “Unless you all repent, together, you will perish.” We still need to sort out the perish part. But at least you’re not alone in fear. We are called together to repent, to turn to God. We find God’s path Isaiah promises together. We find wisdom and courage together. We sense God’s Spirit together.

And in this community you’ll grow to understand just how many are with you.

As we listen to God together, we realize we aren’t hearing these words by ourselves as a congregation, either. We learn we belong to all God’s children, all who are created in God’s image, friend or enemy, family or stranger, near or far.

That’s different from Jesus’ questioners. They seem to want separation. They want to know if the Galilean pilgrims Pilate murdered in the Temple did something wrong, deserved it. Jesus decisively says no, they were no worse than any other Galileans. Same with those killed in a building collapse. Tragedy happens and people are hurt. Sometimes evil is done and people are hurt. It’s not a question of deserving.

So, together, now we understand: judgment isn’t needed in pain and suffering. Since we all belong to each other, to all God’s children across the globe, empathy and love and care are all that’s needed. The only pertinent question, ever, is: can we help? Can we love?

This is the way of God, the way of life, that Isaiah says is rich, filling food for you.

Jesus agrees. But it’s hard to tell that today. Truth is, Jesus should have workshopped his saying a little better, because it sounds like a mixed message. Those who suffer aren’t to blame but without repentance you’ll perish the same way?

But just separate the two. The first is true: no blame lands on those who suffer. But the second can also be true: if you – that is, all of us – don’t repent, turn to God, we’re on a path to death not a path to life.

Exactly what Isaiah says. We talk a lot about Christ’s path being difficult. Sacrificial living, self-giving love, being vulnerable and peacemaking in a violent world. It’s definitely hard. Challenging.

But what if you saw that path with Isaiah’s eyes? That walking as Christ is a way that gives you life and hope? That satisfies your deepest longing for wholeness, for love, for acceptance? If you’ve ever felt unsatisified with your life, with what your choices have led to, with anything in your experience, what if God’s way can satisfy you at your deepest places?

That’s the vision of God’s way we need to find together.

By ourselves – by yourself – it’s more challenging. But together with all God’s children, and with those of the past, witness after witness testifies to the life they found in God’s way. They declare with the psalmist that knowing God’s steadfast love is better than life itself. They find God’s way to be water in a dry and searing desert.

Because God’s way – the way of love of God and love of neighbor – is filled with joy and hope. When we love others, our hearts expand. We are blessed. We’re acting on the love of God we already know, but in that acting we are filled again by it.

Even the vulnerability and self-giving part is satisfying and filling. If we put up walls and strengthen our defenses against others we end up in a windowless tower where no light can reach us. But when we reach out and hold another we are held ourselves, and find hope and light and healing. We find God.

And God’s dream is that being filled, we will carry that same food into the world.

Like John the Baptist, Jesus connects our turning toward God with bearing fruit. Whatever’s going on with this poor fig tree, God will dig around it, fertilize it, encourage fruit that will bless the world. God’s Spirit is doing that gardening in you, nurturing, digging, encouraging. Bringing you to abundant fruit.

And since you’re not doing this all by yourself, the Spirit has help. We garden each other. Others help you root deeper in God’s love, help you face struggles, dry times. Why else do we come here week after week, longing to see each other, hoping for connection? Because in these connections we not only have a sign of God’s love, but God’s concrete action in each other to heal us and help us bear the rich food of God’s love into a world that’s starving to death.

My spiritual director, Lois, just told our group she did some remodeling.

She had grab bars installed in her bathrooms. You know, those smooth steel bars firmly anchored in the bathroom wall so you can hold on when you need support and help. (If you don’t need them, just wait a few years and you’ll understand.)

But our group realized together that grab bars are important for all of us. Not necessarily the physical ones. But that if I’m going to fall I can reach out and hold on to you and you will keep me up. You are my grab bars. We are grab bars for each other, for support and help when anyone needs it. We aren’t listening to God all by ourselves, struggling with Christ’s path all by ourselves, fearing the future and our role in it all by ourselves. And we hope to become grab bars for our neighbors and all who are suffering and in pain.

So hold on. Hold on. There’s a lot to be done, but you’re not all by yourself. Together the Spirit of God will bless us all to walk in this way of life and bear fruit not only for our community, but for the life of the world.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

Midweek Lent, 2025 + Love Does No Wrong to a Neighbor +
Week 2: All peoples long for God, and God is with them

Vicar Natalie Wussler
Texts: Acts 17:16-32; John 4:1-42

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen

Evangelism feels like a dirty word.

It’s the first word in our denomination’s name, yet we shy away from it, and for good reason. Evangelism has a pretty bad reputation in our 21st century minds, because for many of us, it means sidewalk preachers outside of sporting events with large signs threatening eternal torment if one does not repent and follow Jesus. Evangelism has meant seeing people as projects in need of converting and saving, rather than God’s beloved children, deserving of love exactly as they are. It’s associated with coercing people into pews without caring for their wellbeing. And on a large historical scale, evangelism has been a scapegoat for massive human rights violations–the crusades, the inquisition, the colonization of Christianizing of indigenous people in all corners of the world, the continued oppression of LGTBQ+ people, and the governing of women’s healthcare choices.

Love does no wrong to a neighbor. So if sharing our faith comes at the cost of someone else’s rights, their sanity, or their self expression, we don’t want anything to do with it. And yet, we are people of good news and ambassadors of Christ. We worship a God who loves all people and desires to be near all people. We are bearers of Christ in the world. So perhaps our evangelism and our sharing of good news could be something of more substance. And perhaps we could engage other people of faith in a holy sharing that could lead down a path toward real reconciliation and repair.

It starts with a deep understanding that God is already with all people.

God created all people, loves all people, and is compassionate to all people. Our Psalm says God’s mercy and love extend further and deeper than any of us could imagine. There is nowhere that is untouched by God’s love. And that’s good news for us. We are not tasked with bringing Christ anywhere, because there is nowhere that Christ is not already present. God’s love does not abide within the limits that humans set, nor is it exclusive to people who proclaim certain beliefs. And when we spend time with those who do not believe the same as we believe, we should reflect God’s compassion without agenda.

Jesus realized that. Jesus meets the Samaritan woman at the well. Jesus and this unnamed woman’s people had a violent past; both sides convinced that they both worship rightly in the correct places. Damage has been done in the name of their beliefs. Mistrust persists between Jews and Samaritans. Yet, Jesus initiates a conversation with this woman. There are so many societal reasons why Jesus and this woman should not be speaking like gender roles and religious conflict. But Jesus and this woman bravely break barriers to treat each other with kindness and compassion and they value each other’s voice.

Jesus treats this woman with dignity and respect. He recognizes her marriages as symptoms of an oppressive system that does not value women. He knows she’s likely experienced real trauma. Jesus sees her as someone who God already loves and is at work in. He sees her deep faith and desire for truth. And because Jesus has created an unexpected grace-filled space for her, she, in turn, begins to understand and trust in who Jesus is–first as a prophet then as the Messiah. She goes out to her community as the first evangelist. She shares her story, asks a question, and invites others to join her in a deeper understanding of who Christ is. God was already there, preparing the hearts of all to receive living water, the Holy Spirit, who nourishes our every spiritual need, quenches our thirst in love and mercy, and sends us out into the world to do God’s work.

Just as God was already with the Samaritans, God was already with the Athenians.

Paul trusted this. Before Paul ever began to talk about Christ, he spent time with the Athenians, learning about their culture and way of life. He engaged in conversations with them in synagogues and marketplaces, and he discovered that God was already with them and had already embraced them. And because of his openness to engage with them, the Athenians gave him an opportunity to speak on a large public platform, the Areopagus, where great minds debated big ideas. Paul starts his conversation with the Athenians by first acknowledging their devotion to their religion. He recognizes their curiosity as God-given. He offers no words of condemnation. Rather he speaks to them in their own language through the words of their own philosophers and poets and talks about their own shrines as a way to build common ground. He meets the crowd where they are and treats the Athenians as fellow beloved children of God. And through his words and the prodding of the holy spirit, some came to trust in Christ, and some decided to leave, and others decided to continue speaking with Paul to learn more about this God that’s foreign to them. And God still wrapped all the Athenians in a loving embrace, regardless of any creed they confess. That’s always been God’s way. So it should be our way.

We can follow in the footsteps of Paul, Jesus, and the Samaritan woman as we share our faith with others, loving and serving our neighbors as Christ without agenda before we speak about Christ.

When we start from a place of curiosity, radical listening, active compassion, and recognition of our shared humanity and belovedness to God, and when we humbly share our stories and our beliefs, and find common ground with our neighbors, we build bridges where there have been walls. And when we trust that God is already at work in the lives of our neighbors and repent of the ways Christ’s name has been co-opted to bring harm, our focus shifts. God changes our hearts to be affected by our neighbors’ stories. We can learn more about the God we worship.

And through our continued holy sharing of ideas, stories, and beliefs, we build partnerships that can lead to healing, not only for our relationships with our neighbors, but for the whole world. And if evangelism is marked by loving, serving, and sharing with those of different faiths without agenda, if it’s a willingness and openness to letting God change our hearts through the stories of others, if it’s working with beautifully diverse perspectives to bring peace and justice and healing, that’s an evangelism we can get behind. That’s an evangelism that can lead to repair of what’s been broken.

Let us anticipate seeing God’s face and hearing God’s voice through our neighbors of different faiths, and through our conversations and service; and through mutual listening and partnership we can begin to heal the harm that’s been done in Christ’s name.

May we be compassionate like Jesus, listen like Paul, be curious like the Athenians, and brave like the Samaritan woman. May our lives and the way we treat people testify to God’s all-consuming love.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen