Mount Olive Lutheran Church

  • Home
  • About
    • Welcome Video
    • Becoming a Member
    • Frequently Asked Questions
    • Staff & Vestry
    • History
    • Our Building
      • Windows
      • Icons
  • Worship
    • Worship Online
    • Liturgy Schedule
    • Holy Communion
    • Life Passages
    • Sermons
    • Servant Schedule
  • Music
    • Choirs
    • Music & Fine Arts Series
      • Bach Tage
    • Organ
    • Early Music Minnesota
  • Community
    • Neighborhood Ministry
      • Neighborhood Partners
    • Global Ministry
      • Global Partners
    • Congregational Life
    • Capital Appeal
    • Climate Justice
    • Stewardship
    • Foundation
  • Learning
    • Adult Learning
    • Children & Youth
    • Confirmation
    • Louise Schroedel Memorial Library
  • Resources
    • Respiratory Viruses
    • Stay Connected
    • Olive Branch Newsletter
    • Calendar
    • Servant Schedule
    • CDs & Books
    • Event Registration
  • Contact

A Share of the Spirit

September 29, 2024 By Pr. Joseph Crippen

You, and everyone, are not alone in your faith journey or service to the world as Christ: you have a share of the Spirit to encourage, empower, and help you.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 26 B
Texts: Numbers 11:4-6, 10-16, 24-29; Mark 9:38-50

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

Moses finally cracked under the pressure.

Leading thousands of people through a wilderness, being the focus of all their complaints and expectations, doing a job he didn’t want but God called him to do, all came to a head in today’s reading. The latest complaint is they want meat along with the manna, and Egypt sounds pretty good to them.

And Moses loses it. He accuses God of treating him badly, abandoning him to the burden of these people that Moses didn’t give birth to or decide to drag through a wilderness. Moses says that if God loves him at all, God should just kill him.

And immediately God tells Moses to gather up 70 trusted elders of the people so God can take some of the Spirit on Moses and give a share of God’s Spirit to each one. It’s such an immediate, easy answer, it feels as if God is asking Moses, “who told you that you had to do this all alone?” After all, when Moses protested he was a horrible speaker, God told him to bring Aaron. Here, the second Moses asks for help, God offers it.

“Who told you that you had to do this all alone?” That’s a good question for you and me to ponder.

Like Moses, these days sometimes push us to the brink.

As the election nears, as hateful rhetoric increases, as panicked poll-watching raises anxiety, we can despair. “What on earth can I do?” On top of the election, all the other problems are still there: oppression, racism, sexism, hunger, war, violence and systemic pressure against the weak and vulnerable.

I sometimes think like Moses – these are your children, God! What am I supposed to do about this?

But today God asks, “Who told you that you had to do this all alone?” And look, today Jesus promises that what the 70 got, you and I also get: a share of the Spirit. Jesus promises the women and men following him that they – actually that everyone – will be salted with fire. It’s a mixed metaphor, but he’s referring to Pentecost. The Spirit of God will pour into people and make them salt, seasoning. You get a share of the Spirit, and so do all, so that you, and I, and all, can be salt for the world, bringing the flavor and joy of God’s healing and hope to all. And no one said you had to do this all alone. We’re all helping in this together, all with a share of the Spirit, with millions around the world.

But there is another layer to this gift. To see it, we first have to deal with Jesus’ odd metaphors.

The other layer is your faith life, how you walk Christ’s cross-shaped path.

But Jesus uses challenging metaphors to describe it.

First, he talks about removing things from your life that cause you to sin, to abandon your path of Christ. But he uses a particularly gruesome image, the removal of body parts that get you into trouble. And he does it three times, deepening our discomfort.

Second, he says the path of Christ leads to life, and sin that takes you off that path leads to the valley of Gehenna. This is a ravine outside Jerusalem that was basically the stinking garbage dump of the city. Fires were constantly burning in it. So following Jesus leads to real life, while sinning, breaking away from Jesus, is throwing your life away into a garbage dump that’s always burning. Again, a particularly ugly metaphor.

But remember the end of this teaching: “everyone will be salted by fire.” Now fire isn’t punishment but purification. So the fire of Pentecost is good news: the share of the Spirit you receive will burn away those parts of you that lead you to sin – maybe a more helpful metaphor than dismemberment. And now, hear God’s question again.

This time it’s: “who told you that you had to do your discipleship all alone?”

Sometimes even more strongly than thinking about our life in the world we think our faith journey is all on us. Our failings, our lack of vision, the challenges we deal with, our falling back when we thought we were moving forward, all is our problem to solve.

But who told you that you had to be a disciple all on your own? Jesus asks. I give you a share of my Spirit so that you are never alone. God’s Spirit not only burns away the parts that lead you astray, God’s Spirit empowers you, encourages you, fills you with hope. You are transformed into Christ, and you have God’s Spirit to pray to for help, to lean on for strength. You’re not expected to be faithful all by yourself. You have God’s Spirit.

But there is a warning in both these stories today that we need to hear.

Joshua is enraged at Eldad and Medad and wants Moses to shut them down. They were among the 70 on the authorized list of elders, but they didn’t gather at the tent of meeting. And the Spirit filled them, anyway. This can’t be tolerated, Joshua says. But Moses is so thrilled to have other Spirit-filled people to help, he tells Joshua he wishes that everyone would be so filled. Everyone.

And then this strange person somehow is casting out demons in Jesus’ name. John wants this shut down, since he’s not one of them. But Jesus says that anyone who does good in his name is on their side, even if he’s not part of the group. The only way the demons would be cast out is if the Spirit is with this stranger, so Jesus is fine with it, like Moses.

So here’s today’s warning: having a share of God’s Spirit doesn’t give you the authority to try and control who else gets that Spirit or to shut people out. Remember, our last view of Jesus in last week’s Gospel was with a child in his lap, urging that she be welcomed as Christ. No time elapses between these verses, so Jesus still has little Esther in his lap as he warns against shutting people out or causing little ones who trust in him to sin. That’s what’s at stake for Jesus: every child of God. It’s what’s at stake for you and me, too.

No one says you have to do your faith life on your own. No one says you have to heal the world on your own.

That’s your good news. And mine. So you can embrace the hope of Moses and the confidence of Jesus, that the Spirit getting out to everyone is always going to be a gift and blessing, and rejoice.

Because if Moses’ dream becomes reality, that everyone receives this share of the Spirit, can you imagine what this world would become? If Jesus’ promise that all will be salted with the Spirit’s fire becomes reality, can you imagine the spicy joy of the whole creation? All that God dreams for God’s children and the whole creation could come about through you, and me, and, well, Moses hopes, through everyone.

And wouldn’t that be a wonder to see?

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

Filed Under: sermon

More

September 22, 2024 By Vicar at Mount Olive

While the culture of the world moves us to crave more, Jesus says “the first shall be last.” This word encourages us to go to the margins of society and live a life of service to others.

Vicar Natalie Wussler
The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 25 B
Texts: Jeremiah 11:18-20, Psalm 54; James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a; Mark 9:30-37

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

It’s the water we swim in, woven into the fabric of our society. More. This insatiable desire for more. We can see it everywhere we go. More money, more power, more status, more stuff. More. We’re caught by a selfish kind of ambition with never-ending cravings, forcing us into a rat race to the best places in society, not settling until we reach the top, and all the while looking over to see if what we have measures up to what our peers have. We have unlimited access to all the ways we can be more or become enough right at our fingertips! And it’s exhausting. Looking around, it seems like our culture is governed by the philosophy of “more”. James sensed this in his 1st century church. James observed his people ascribing to a self-centered earthly wisdom that fosters selfish ambition and envy. A quote, unquote “conventional” wisdom causing his people to look around at others and covet what they did not have.

And what was the fruit of this selfish ambition and envy? James says, disorder and wickedness of all kinds. Conflicts and disputes between people. Does this sound familiar to anyone else? What James talks about feels eerily similar to the conditions of our current society that run us all ragged in pursuit of more. Now this is not some tirade about ambition in our earthly existence. James makes an important distinction here. Selfish ambition that leads to envy is what we should flee from. An ambition that takes our eyes off of God and those around us and centers squarely on the self. This ambition hoards in pursuit of more, it does not share. This ambition envies the success of others. It’s a systemic, competitive struggle that leads to disputes that break down communities. It makes no space for those who can’t keep up in the race. This race to the top distracts people, leading some to say “pull yourself up by the bootstraps” to those who have no boots. Selfish ambition ultimately lets vulnerable people of all kinds fall through the cracks, leading some to feel like lambs led to the slaughter, like an uprooted tree cut off from the land of living, like someone who has been forgotten completely, Jeremiah says. This is what happens when the pressures of this cutthroat culture move us to crave more.

The disciples seem to get caught up in this same self-centered culture of “more”. While Jesus is trying to explain to women and men following him for the second time that he will be like a lamb to the slaughter, the disciples are confused and in fear, they don’t ask any clarifying questions. Maybe it’s because they don’t want to look stupid in front of each other and potentially lose their imagined superiority among the group. Or maybe it’s because the last time someone made a comment about Jesus’ death prediction, that person (Peter) was called Satan, and that would be super embarrassing, right? We’ll never know what caused their silence. But their fear to ask Jesus for whatever reason was greater than their desire to draw close to him. Their confusion soon turns into competition. 

They fall into selfish ambition and begin to dispute who among them is greatest. And in their squabbling, they once again miss the point and their hearts are hardened toward the reality of Jesus’ prediction. Their useless pursuit of more not only creates interpersonal strife, but it distorts their understanding of God’s mission on earth. This is what can happen to us when we follow the world’s conventional wisdom–we, like the disciples, can miss what is truly important about a life following Jesus. We can become too caught up in our own accolades instead of drawing closer to God and to each other.

And Jesus, knowing all along what the disciples are quarreling about responds: “Anyone who wants to be first must be the very last, and the servant of all.” This is a radical word, both in Jesus’ time and now. It’s hard to imagine a world where the first are last when the world we know is built on the power of a few so-called “firsts.” Jesus flips the world’s hierarchies around and prioritizes those considered “last.” And as an illustration, Jesus embraces a child and calls the disciples to do likewise. Welcoming children wholeheartedly, in this time, gained you nothing, as the Romans believed the only value children carried was that one day they would be adults.  This isn’t just a cute message about embracing children. Jesus is asking the disciples to welcome those who will gain you no earthly notoriety, no medals of honor, no promotions. But will mean everything in heaven. Jesus is directing his disciples to stoop to the lowest places and serve all. That’s our call today. 

It’s a path we do not take alone. Jesus, himself, took this path. We worship a God who was willing to be last of all and servant of all, a God who stoops down to us. Jesus spent his ministry in the low places with the sick, the grieving, the prostitutes, the tax collectors; those relegated to the low places in Roman society. Jesus stooped low to wash the disciples feet, a job typically only for the last, the forgotten people. And his message? “I have given you my example, do as I have done for you.” This is where God’s love is realized, serving in the low places.

And that’s our invitation. Jesus invites us to follow his example: get off of the earthly ladder to success and serve. To make ourselves low so that all be served and experience God’s love made manifest for them, whether they be poor, sick, houseless, grieving, abandoned, or forgotten. We can take our focus off of our endless pursuit of “more” and onto the needs of those who society puts down. In setting aside our earthly honors, we can dwell in a community where the lasts are firsts and the vulnerable are embraced. When you welcome these people wholeheartedly, Jesus says, you are welcoming the very presence of the Triune God. And as we bring ourselves low, God reminds us that we are beloved without anything we’ve gained in this life. That our value is not in our accomplishments, but instead in our identity as children of the Living God. As we are made last we gain everything. More community with less strife. More confidence in our enoughness in the face of God. More. This is the good fruit of the heavenly wisdom that James talks about. 

When we stoop to the places where our earthly titles and possessions carry little value, we can look at each other not as competitors, but as siblings in Christ, the greatest servant of all. We can set our selfish ambition and envy aside, quit the rat race, rest, and sit at a table where all are welcome, served, and loved.

In the name of the ☩ Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

Filed Under: sermon Tagged With: sermon

Sustained and Transformed

September 15, 2024 By Pr. Joseph Crippen

We are all called to the path of Christ together, sustained and transformed by the love of Christ who leads and is beside us on the path.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 24 B
Texts: Mark 8:27-38; Isaiah 50:4-9a

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

“God has trained my tongue so I may know how to sustain the weary with a word.”

That’s what Isaiah claims, and what a gift that would be for any of us dealing with each other in this world. Because we are often weary.

We’re weary that there is so much polarization and so much anger and so much entrenched opinion in the world, while our neighbors here and around the world are still suffering. We don’t know what to do. It’s wearying to wake up every day and face that helplessness.

And we’re weary that as much as we know the call to love our neighbor, even to pray for our enemies, as much as we hope to bear God’s love in the world, we struggle doing it. It’s wearying to wake up every day and face disappointment over how we live.

So if there is a sustaining word in our Scripture today, it would be worth knowing.

Instead, we hear Peter rebuked by God’s Son, called Satan, told he’s in the way. It’s not a terribly sustaining Gospel reading. Especially when it ends with God-with-us talking about being ashamed of us.

But there’s a lot more to this story than rebuke and shame.

To begin with, Peter isn’t rebuked for failing as a follower but for blocking Jesus.

Peter’s just proclaimed Jesus as God’s Anointed, God’s Messiah. Jesus sternly orders him and the others to keep quiet about that. And proceeds to say his path is leading toward Jerusalem, toward rejection and death. And yes, toward resurrection, but Jesus kind of buries that lede.

So Peter takes Jesus aside and says, “that’s not the way a Messiah should go.” Whatever Peter understood when he called Jesus the Anointed, he was pretty sure it didn’t involve humiliating death.

And that’s when Jesus rebukes Peter. Because Jesus is going to go on this path, whether anyone likes it or not. Jesus, God-with-us, is going to bear the love of God for the world, reject violence and power, and keep bearing that love even if he is killed by those that love threatens.

And nothing can get in his way. In Matthew’s account, Jesus adds that Peter is a stumbling block. That’s what “Satan” means in Hebrew: someone who opposes and obstructs. And Jesus can’t have anyone stop him from this path of self-giving, vulnerable love. Not even one of his trusted leaders.

Of course, if Jesus is going on this path, he’s going to invite folks to follow.

Peter might’ve only reacted to how Jesus understands he will be Messiah, but very quickly Jesus says, “where I go, you go. That is, if you’re going to follow me.”

Now, we don’t know what drew Peter to follow Jesus in the first place. We don’t know why Peter and Andrew dropped their nets, or why the sons of Zebedee did. We don’t know what motivated Susanna or Joanna to follow Jesus, or Thomas or Philip. We intuit Mary Magdalene’s reason – Jesus healed her of demonic possession. And maybe Matthew followed because he was treated with respect and kindness by a Jewish rabbi, something he as a tax collector wasn’t used to.

But here Jesus says to the women and men who are his disciples, whatever reasons you had for following, for being here, now we need to get on the same page. There might be 40 or 50 or more following Jesus at this point, with 40 or 50 or more reasons. Now there is only one: to take up the cross of suffering love, of sacrificial love, that God-with-us is taking, and follow.

No matter if they came for the meals or the miracles, or if they really loved listening to Jesus talk. If they’re going to keep following, this is now their shared path.

But that’s also our first sustaining word.

Because it is first Jesus’ path. This love that heals the world, a love of forgiveness, grace, and welcome, a love that crosses boundaries and sees all as God’s children, that sacrifices comfort and safety to embrace a neighbor in need, this cross-shaped path of being Christ is the path Jesus first walked and wouldn’t be stopped from. So Jesus – now risen from the dead – can walk with you and me and give us strength and courage for our journey.

Morning by morning, Isaiah declares today, God wakes me up and teaches me, opens my ears to listen, shows me the way. And the way Isaiah describes is very much Jesus’ cross-shaped path: not fighting those who strike you, not hiding from those who despise you and spit at you. But Isaiah says the God who teaches you, morning by morning, day by day, will make sure you’re not disgraced, will vindicate and strengthen you so no one can stop the love of God you bear.

Yes, if you follow Christ on this path it’ll be hard. You’ll struggle and fail at times. But you have God’s guidance and strength and grace with you. Christ transforms you with the Spirit’s courage and always walks at your side. And through your love on this path, and mine, the suffering that makes us and the world so weary will be changed and healing will come.

Now, go back to Peter and you’ll find even more sustaining hope.

If I’d been a disciple and was called Satan, an obstruction to God’s way, by Christ himself, I’d have been devastated. I imagine Peter keeping to the fringes of the crowd surrounding Jesus, keeping his head down. Apart from the humiliation, believing you’ve failed and been publicly called out had to be brutal.

But only six days later, as Jesus prepares to go up a mountain in prayer, where he will be transfigured, as early that morning he walks among all these women and men who love and follow him, he taps James and John and Peter and says, “Come along with me. I need you.” Can you imagine Peter’s relief? He was still important to Jesus, an amazing grace and welcome.

See, no matter how often you stumble, no matter how frustrated you are at your discipleship, or dismayed on the days you seem to take two steps back, Jesus still needs you. Loves you. Wants you by his side on the path. Christ may challenge you at times, but always in love. And will always invite you to follow once again, transforming you in the Spirit as you go.

Morning by morning God wakens you, to open you up to listen and follow.

So today you’ve woken, you’re listening for God. What do you hear? How is God calling you to this path of Christ just for today? However it goes, you’re embraced in God’s love and given what you need to do that. And tomorrow God will waken you again.

But this is Jesus’ urgency today, that we all come together on the same page as Christ’s people on Christ’s path, no matter how we started. But that means we’re all in this together, transformed together. And nothing can stop the love of God in Christ from healing this world. Even when you and I carry it.

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

Filed Under: sermon

Lifted High

September 14, 2024 By Vicar at Mount Olive

Jesus Christ on the cross tells us that the present pain, death, and shame is powerless. But when the pain of this world feels too heavy, His scars tell us that’s okay.

Vicar Natalie Wussler
Holy Cross Day
Texts: Numbers 21:4b-9; Psalm 98:1-4; 1 Corinthians 1:18-24; John 3:13-17

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

Hungry, tired, longing for rest, the Israelites did what many of us might do, they complained. They said their chains back in Egypt sounded like refuge compared to this wilderness. And instead of getting a solution to their problems, they received snakes. Snakes that bit and killed many Israelites. These people felt scared. Their lives were in danger. Some felt hopeless and believed that these snakes would be their end. But others turned to God, declaring their trust that they could be delivered. 

And God, in love and mercy, did. A bronze serpent lifted high offered healing to all those who had been bitten by just looking at it. God didn’t take away these snakes, their venom or even the pain from the bite. What God did do was take away the snakes’ capacity to kill. These snakes still bit and it still hurt, venom did still enter the people’s bodies, but with the bronze serpent lifted high, the Israelites had found a saving grace. Perhaps now, in the presence of these snakes, the Israleites felt less fear. Maybe when the serpents bit, the Israelites didn’t panic and fear imminent death as they once did. God gave them the promise that these snakes would not be their demise. Through God, the Israelites no longer had to fear their death by snakes, and were assured that God would sustain their life another day.

Cut several thousand years in the future, and Jesus is doing a similar thing. With God’s love for you and for me fully realized, Jesus Christ, the word of God incarnate, was lifted high on a cross, and died a criminal’s death. He rose from the grave, and all at once defeated death. Our gospel reading today says that all people who believe in Jesus will not perish, will not be lost, will not truly die, but will live eternally. Like the sting of snake bites having no hold over the Israelites, because of Christ crucified and risen, the sting of death has no hold over you. Yes, your body will die and you will feel pain in this life, but, if you look to Jesus and believe in Him, you too will be healed, from death, from sin, and all that separates you from God and from your neighbors.

You get to enjoy the resurrection, and once this life passes onto the next, you will have a seat at the feast that has no ending. AND, while you live this temporary life, you get to live in relationship with the Triune God. God’s spirit dwells within you, giving you a new nature. Daily you can lean on the Holy Spirit to direct your path, rather than relying on your own self-serving inclinations. Your new nature directs you to an abundant life of love for God and for all people.

This isn’t just some blessed assurance for after you die. It’s an invitation to daily die to the inclinations of this world and rise in Christ until you finally return to your heavenly home with the Triune God and all the saints that have gone before. 

Though death, sin, and the pain of this world might sting now, they truly have no power, against the backdrop of Christ crucified and risen. 

And, that sounds great, right? 

Until we feel pain. 
Until someone we love dies. 
Until we feel the shame of our sin. 
Until we feel betrayed by a friend, or receive life-shattering news. 
Until life hurts.

Yes, God’s promises through the cross of Christ are true, but in the face of a tragedy or any kind of trial this world throws at you, a victorious Christ might not feel like the balm for your wounds. If in the midst of a personal crisis, someone said to you, “Oh, the present pain doesn’t matter, because it has no power. Rejoice! Christ is victorious over everything. You’re going to live forever,” this kind of statement might feel they’re minimizing your pain, because even though we do have those promises, and they can sustain us, life still stings. Sometimes, we can feel like the Israelites in the wilderness being bitten by the snakes prior to the bronze serpent–alone, scared, hopeless, hurting, and in the midst of a whole lot of suffering. And, church, that’s okay. 

Jesus definitely has something to say about this. Jesus, God made flesh, lived a human life and experienced the world as we do. He felt weariness, anger, despair, and anxiety. Jesus was denied and betrayed by his closest friends. He died a human death, an excruciating one. The life and death he led left their marks on him, even after the resurrection. Fully redeemed and resurrected, Jesus’ body still bears the scars of the crucifixion. If Jesus’ very life was restored to his body, don’t you think the holes in His hands and feet and the wound in his side could have also been healed, too? Maybe, just maybe these wounds were meant to show us that life’s pain is not outside of the eternal, abundant life God has for us on earth. We can be risen with Christ, and attentive to the ways we and others hurt. 

God does not need you to check your pain at the door. God wants all of you. Yes, Jesus defeated sin and death, but death still scarred his body. It’s by touching these scars, and bearing witness to the trauma Jesus endured that the disciple Thomas comes to believe in the resurrection and good news, and it’s by believing in these same scars on the resurrected Christ that we can come to know God’s love for us. Jesus’ scars show us that he has been through the most difficult parts of life. Jesus knows pain. The word of God made flesh knows what a human life feels like. Through Jesus, the Triune God understands and empathizes with the way the world hurts. The Triune God understands and empathizes with the way that you hurt. Your pain matters to God. The Triune God cares so deeply about you and is with you through your hardest moments. There is nothing that you could ever experience that God won’t understand.

And in the midst of your hardest moments, God assures you that though pain may wound you, it is not the end of your story. Because to every Good Friday moment, we have a resurrection on Easter Morning. We still have hope that sustains us through this life. We have hope to live a life centered on Christ, hope that we can learn to walk in Christ’s ways better everyday, hope that we will live after our bodies die, hope that our present suffering doesn’t have the final say. It’s a hope that does not deny suffering. In fact, it looks suffering straight in the face, and assures us that this is not the end for us. As people of Christ, we can affirm our pain and Christ’s promises at the time, discounting neither. We can be bearers of this same hope to others. Sitting with people on their Good Friday’s, so that Easter morning’s hope might come.

Some days, you may need the image of a victorious Christ, who lives now and forever, who went to the grave and came out the other side, who redeems all your pain and declares it powerless, who sustains you until you’re on the other side of eternity. Yet other days, you might need the image of a suffering Jesus, the one who was lifted high on the cross, with his blood and agony visible for all to see; whose body, though resurrected, is still scarred, and sits with you in your pain. Yet other days, you may need a Jesus that lives in the liminal spaces between resurrection and suffering. Our resurrected yet scarred savior abides in all these places, declaring that there is hope for wherever you are. Look to Jesus Christ lifted high on the cross.

 

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

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g3G3xMgPX2I

Filed Under: sermon Tagged With: sermon

Who Acted?

September 8, 2024 By Pr. Joseph Crippen

To be saved is to act as a neighbor, because you are forever bound up and embraced by the non-negotiable love of God.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 23 B
Texts: James 2:1-10, 14-17; Mark 7:24-37; Isaiah 35:4-7a; Psalm 146; and using Luke 10:25-37

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

“What do I have to do to be saved?” a lawyer once asked Jesus.

Since this was a religious lawyer, an expert in God’s law, Jesus said, “you tell me.” “Love God with all your heart, soul, strength, and mind, and love your neighbor as yourself,” the lawyer replied. “Great,” Jesus said. “Do that and live.”

“And who is my neighbor?” the lawyer asked.

Now, this isn’t our Gospel today. But James’ words kept calling me into Jesus’ Samaritan story. See, Jesus tells a story as an answer and completely reverses the lawyer’s question. He tells of a man beaten and left for dead, of a priest and a Levite who walk by on the other side of the road, and of a Samaritan, one the nearly dead man would have looked down on, regarded as lesser, even as enemy, who binds his wounds, and gets him to a safe place.

And then Jesus asks the only question he thinks matters: “Who acted as a neighbor?”

And James chimes in with a hearty, “Amen, brother.”

James sees the partiality, the prejudice, his people are living with, judging others by their looks, clothes, wealth, status, and treating those who impress them with care and consideration. Those who don’t are ignored, treated as lesser.

And James can’t understand how people who claim faith in Christ Jesus could act that way. You’re doing well, he says, if you keep Christ’s law, “love your neighbor as yourself.” But when you pick and choose who gets to be your neighbor, you’re breaking that law.

For James, it’s clear: if you say you trust in Christ Jesus, and you don’t act in a changed way, a way of divine love, there’s no point. If your faith doesn’t make you into Christ, loving as Christ, serving as Christ, he doesn’t think it’s worth anything other than a quick burial.

Here’s where we clutch our Lutheran pearls to our chest and sink down in a faint.

Isn’t James mixing works with grace? we ask. If being saved means loving your neighbor, acting as a neighbor, what about God’s free grace? Aren’t we just throwing that away?

It’s time we stop that nonsense once and for all. It is the clear witness of Scripture, of Christ Jesus himself, that you and all people are beloved of God now and always. The Triune God revealed that love in person in Christ Jesus, taught it, showed it, carried it to the cross and broke death with it. God’s love for you, for me, for all people is non-negotiable. Always.

But we have it on the authority of God-with-us, Jesus himself, that being saved is more than the reality of God’s love. The Triune God’s non-negotiable love is the truth of the universe, the reality behind all things, the foundation, the air, the atmosphere of a saved life, a saved world.

But a life that is saved, according to Jesus himself, is a life lived in love of God and love of neighbor. When you love your neighbor you know salvation, or healing, as the word also means in Greek. When you act as a neighbor, that is, act as the God who loves you, you know what it is to be healed and whole.

“Who acted as a neighbor?” Jesus asks. “That one knows salvation.”

And James adds, “and that one knows no distinctions.”

This is the challenge of the saved, healed life: to end all our distinctions between people and see as God sees, love as God loves. To see beyond wealth and nice clothes. To give more than words to someone who is hungry and actually feed them. To love enemies and pray for them. To see God’s face in all people. To make no distinctions between whom you will care for and whom you won’t, because God doesn’t, and the question is never “who is my neighbor?”, but always “who acted as a neighbor?”

And if you think it’s hard, you have company. Even Jesus struggled with this. Luke and John tell a different story, but in Matthew and Mark, Jesus seems to have to learn this. This woman who insists on having Jesus see her and her daughter is one of the most important persons in the history of the Church, according to Matthew and Mark. She’s the wedge who forever cracks open the Son of God to expand the mission to all God’s people, not just the Jewish people.

And here’s the true grace in all this:

We belong to the one who “does everything well,” as the people marvel about Jesus, “who even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak.” Jesus is the longed for coming the psalmist and Isaiah promise today: “God will come and save you, open the eyes of the blind, and the ears of the deaf, and heal the limbs that are lame.”

Now do you understand? The Triune God in Christ heals you, saves you, by making you into God’s love in the world. God opens your blinded eyes to see all of God’s children in need as your concern. God unplugs your deaf ears to hear all the cries of God’s children, even the ones you don’t like, so you can act as neighbor. God cures your paralysis, your lameness, and gets you up off your couch and empowers you to go into the world as God’s love and do something. Do something. Be a neighbor.

So, “be strong, do not fear,” Isaiah says.

This is the heart of God’s grace. The non-negotiable love God has for you and for all people is also the power that heals you to be a neighbor and bring God’s love wherever you go.

And when you act as a neighbor, as God’s love, the same love that holds you and surrounds you and feeds you and gives you breath, you will know what the Triune God means by saving you.

And then, Isaiah says, look out. That’s when water breaks forth in deserts, when people start leaping for joy, singing like they’ve never sung before. That’s when God’s dreamed-for healing of this world really starts to happen.

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

Filed Under: sermon

  • « Previous Page
  • 1
  • …
  • 13
  • 14
  • 15
  • 16
  • 17
  • …
  • 171
  • Next Page »
  • Worship
  • Worship Online
  • Liturgy Schedule
    • The Church Year
    • Holy Days
  • Holy Communion
  • Life Passages
    • Holy Baptism
    • Marriage
    • Funerals
    • Confession & Forgiveness
  • Sermons
  • Servant Schedule

Archives

MOUNT OLIVE LUTHERAN CHURCH
3045 Chicago Avenue
Minneapolis, MN 55407

Map and Directions >

612-827-5919
welcome@mountolivechurch.org


  • Olive Branch Newsletter
  • Servant Schedule
  • Sermons
  • Sitemap

facebook

mpls-area-synod-primary-reverseric-outline
elca_reversed_large_website_secondary
lwf_logo_horizNEG-ENG

Copyright © 2025 ·Mount Olive Church ·

  • Home
  • About
    • Welcome Video
    • Becoming a Member
    • Frequently Asked Questions
    • Staff & Vestry
    • History
    • Our Building
      • Windows
      • Icons
  • Worship
    • Worship Online
    • Liturgy Schedule
    • Holy Communion
    • Life Passages
    • Sermons
    • Servant Schedule
  • Music
    • Choirs
    • Music & Fine Arts Series
      • Bach Tage
    • Organ
    • Early Music Minnesota
  • Community
    • Neighborhood Ministry
      • Neighborhood Partners
    • Global Ministry
      • Global Partners
    • Congregational Life
    • Capital Appeal
    • Climate Justice
    • Stewardship
    • Foundation
  • Learning
    • Adult Learning
    • Children & Youth
    • Confirmation
    • Louise Schroedel Memorial Library
  • Resources
    • Respiratory Viruses
    • Stay Connected
    • Olive Branch Newsletter
    • Calendar
    • Servant Schedule
    • CDs & Books
    • Event Registration
  • Contact