Don’t look up hoping you’ll find Jesus in the last place you saw him. Look around, out, and in to the Holy Spirit sending you out to be Jesus in the world

Vicar Natalie Wussler
Day of Ascension
Text: Act 1:1-11; Psalm 47; Ephesians 1:15-23; Luke 24:44-53

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

“Why do you stand looking up toward heaven?” 

That’s what the angels ask the apostles as they look toward heaven, staring at the place they last saw Jesus before he disappeared into a cloud. And it’s a jarring question. Jesus just… left. Their beloved friend and teacher, the one who turned their lives upside-down, who healed and welcomed sinners, the one they just saw die and rise was gone… AGAIN! What else could they do but bend their necks and strain their eyes to catch a final look at their risen and ascending friend? 

And it’s easy to understand why–because, if we’re honest, we look up, too. 

We look up, to find Jesus where we last saw him. We look up, searching for that same feeling, that same comfort, that same certainty, that same closeness we once did. We look up, wishing for our faith to feel easy and joyful again. We look up, hoping that maybe it’ll make the pain, the confusion, and the doubt go away. And maybe if we could find Jesus where we last saw him, life wouldn’t be so hard.

And even though we know that because of the ascension, Jesus fills everything and everyone and sends us out, even though we know that Pentacost is coming, even though we’ve heard stories of saints who stayed faithful to God despite all odds, and even though we’ve maybe even felt God’s presence in our own lives, we all still look up.

And if anyone knows about looking up, it’s me.

In the summer before my senior year, I felt broken. My junior year was full of heartache in my relationships and in my faith. I arrived at a Christian summer camp that I had worked at the summer before in serious need of Jesus. I was desperate for a faith that felt simple and easily joyful like it was the summer before. But instead my faith was easily breakable. I was easily breakable.

I kept looking up asking “where are you Jesus? Why do I feel so empty?” And one day I sat with the camp nurse and told her everything, and she just held me, cried with me, and prayed with me. She didn’t make the pain go away, but Jesus showed up in her arms as they held me, in the tears we cried together, and in prayers she prayed over me.

She showed me that Jesus was not up in the clouds, buried deep in my happy memories and my shallow hopes. No–Jesus is present, active, and responsive even in the hardest moments. And Jesus is never leaving.

And her love for me felt a lot like what the angels say to the apostles, “Why do you stand looking up toward heaven?” which, to me, sounds a lot like: “Don’t look up. He’s not there anymore.”

And that’s an invitation to you and to me
To get your head of the clouds and back onto earth
To see and join into where Jesus is now

And just like the apostles, who could no longer rely on Jesus’ audible voice to answer their questions or give them comfort
Just like they had to figure out where Jesus was now and how to be Jesus in the world,
We can’t rely on where Jesus was to see where Jesus is now.
We need to be brave and curious to look for Jesus in new ways.

Because, on Ascension Day, Jesus wasn’t gone. Jesus didn’t ascend into heaven and go somewhere we could never find him. Jesus ascended to heaven so he could be more present than ever. Jesus is no longer confined to a person, place, time, or memory. Jesus fills the world and walks beside you and beside me every step of our journeys. The risen and ascended Christ is the one in whom we live and move and have our being, as Paul says later in Acts. That means wherever you are, you’re known, you’re loved, you’re held by the one who holds all things together. And no matter where you go, Jesus is there–in your tears and your joy, in your questioning and your confidence, and in the voice of someone who says, “I see you. You’re not alone in this.”

And at the ascension, you and I and people all over the world throughout history are sent out to be the fullness of Christ’s presence in the world right now.  It’s how someone offering you a shoulder to cry on or an ear to listen can feel like the presence of Jesus–because it is. And it’s how you become Jesus for someone else when you do the same, because the ascended Christ fills you and reigns within your heart. It’s the same spirit, but through your hands, your feet, your voice. It’s how in every meal we share, in every hand we hold out to someone in need, in every table we widen, in every cry of the oppressed, in this community gathered to worship, in the bread and the cup given for us, in our tears, and in our doubts, in you, and in me, whenever we act in love, Jesus is still teaching and revealing new things, still healing, still calling, still sending. It’s how we become Jesus’ ministry of hope and healing, and then we become the ones gently whispering to those around us “don’t look up. Jesus isn’t there. Jesus is here.”

So beloved, on this Ascension Day, hear this:

Don’t look up…Instead,

Look out–to the world that Christ sends you into. Look out for the places where Christ is still healing and feeding and teaching.

Look in–for the Holy Spirit who lives in you and fills you.

Look around–to the community of believers who remind you, like the angels remind the apostles, that Jesus is still here.

And maybe that’s why the apostles left the Mount of Olives in joy, praising God that day–

Because they had confidence that Jesus isn’t just in some heavenly realm far away, Jesus isn’t just in our memories. Jesus is right here, reigning in our hearts, sending the holy spirit to fill us and sending friends to remind us to look out, in, and around, not up. Sending us to be the healing presence of the risen and ascended Christ.

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

The Holy Spirit has a vocation to walk alongside you to help and assist you. And to do the same for the whole creation and all people.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Sixth Sunday of Easter, year C
Texts: John 14:23-29, with references to Lamentations 3 and Romans 8

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 if God has a vocation, a calling?

We know God calls us to vocations. But is it possible that the Holy and Triune God who made the heavens and the earth is also called ? Only God has the authority to call God, so any vocation God has would somehow come from within the Trinity. This is more mystery than we can know, but we do have a precedent. The Scripture talks of the Father sending the Son, and since the Father and Son are one, as Jesus often says, that sending is from within the Trinity.

And so is this calling. Today Jesus says that the Father is giving us the Holy Spirit. Or, as Jesus names her, “the Advocate.” Somehow, inside the life of the Trinity, the Spirit is called to be with us. Because that word “advocate” is all about calling.

The Greek here is a word we struggle to translate to English.

In your Bible translations you might read “Comforter” or “Counselor” in verse 26. Some translations say “friend” or “helper.” All are aspects of this vocation.

But that it’s a vocation is clear from our current translation, “advocate,” a word English got from Latin, meaning “called to.” The Romans used the word as we still do, as someone who appeared on another’s behalf, or was a mediator, or an intercessor.

But in the original Greek it’s “paraclete,” and that’s the word to cling to. “Paraclete” literally means “called alongside.” A Paraclete is called alongside someone to be of assistance.

That’s our wonder: the Holy Spirit has a calling, a holy vocation, to come alongside you for your help, comfort, aid, counsel. It’s the Spirit’s job, not an optional activity.

Paul says the Spirit is your “called alongside person” as intercessor and mediator.

Just as an advocate in Rome would do those roles, so does the Spirit. Paul tells his Roman congregations in chapter 8 that the Spirit speaks on our behalf before God “with sighs too deep for words.”

The Spirit plumbs the depths of your heart and carries your heart into God’s heart. At all times, but especially when you don’t know what to say to God. The Spirit always knows your fears, your joys, your sorrows, your needs, your thanks. We still pray. But this connection is always flowing even without our words.

And Jesus and others in the Scriptures say it goes the other way, too. The Spirit, alongside you, speaks as God into your heart and mind and spirit, sometimes with sighs too deep for words, too. The Spirit is God’s way to communicate with you, reach you, talk to you, touch you.

One way the Spirit communicates is through the words of Scripture.

In Lamentations, Jeremiah is deep in grief and sorrow over Israel’s ruin. The book aches with pain.

But suddenly in the middle he stops lamenting for a moment and says, “But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, God’s mercies never come to an end.” (3:21-22)

“This I call to mind,” he says. The Holy Spirit spoke those words to Jeremiah. Jeremiah knew the promise of God’s never-ending mercies is written throughout Scripture. But now in his deep need, the Spirit gently called this promise to Jeremiah’s mind. And he found hope. I know, because this same thing has happened to me.

I’ve struggled my whole life with fearing making mistakes. Mostly I feared that if I got things wrong, people would stop loving me, I’d be done. Over my life I’ve learned to trust the love of others and I don’t get too trapped in this anymore.

But I’ve also held that fear about God’s love. And this is where the Spirit has blessed me. More times than I can count, hundreds of times maybe, when I’ve been in fear or anxiety, I’ve heard this word, “Nothing, nothing can separate you from God’s love in Christ.” And I found hope, like Jeremiah. Walking alongside me, the Spirit always knows when I need a reminder and graciously gives it.

Jesus said today that the Spirit will remind you what he said. I’ve found the Spirit takes those reminders from all of Scripture, and they’ve saved my life.

But these aren’t the only ways the Spirit is alongside you.

The Spirit might fill you with an unexpected peace in the midst of turmoil. The Spirit might nudge you to do something, care for someone, say something. The Spirit might be a nagging voice telling you to change direction, go a different way. The Spirit might fill you with joy when you need it or courage when you’re afraid. These are just some of the ways I’ve felt the Spirit help me. Others could tell you about many more.

That’s why we need to be better about witnessing to each other. I don’t normally share my own personal things in sermons, as you know. But I did today because we need to be more bold in telling each other what we’ve known and experienced from God.

When you experience the Spirit’s help, tell someone. If you see the Spirit move in them, name that. We can be such gifts of grace to each if we’re willing to share what we’ve seen and heard and known from the Spirit. We can help each other know this presence.

God has a vocation, to be with you.

Let that sink in. It will change your life. If you want to really know this, find quiet places in your life, times for contemplation. When you can listen and actually hear, with no music or news or internet or phones or anything. If we’re so loud in every moment that we can’t hear ourselves think, how will we hear the Spirit’s voice? Read your Bible, too, so the Spirit has words to remind you of in your need. So: listen, watch, read, wait, trust, and you will know: you are not alone, you have help. God is alongside you.

And Jesus and the Scriptures say God’s Spirit is called alongside everyone, all God’s children, all creatures, the whole creation. That’s the joy. So whatever you fear about the world in these days, whatever anxiety you have about your life, know this: the Holy Spirit is called alongside all of that and she is there, working, loving, inspiring, healing.

That’s the job. That’s what the Holy Spirit is called to do. And it will be done.

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

 

God’s love is so expansive it crosses borders we consider uncrossable, and that brings us and the world healing and life.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Fifth Sunday of Easter, year C
Texts: Acts 11:1-18; John 13:31-35

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

Pay attention: this the second time Luke told this story of Peter and Cornelius.

Want to know how many other stories Luke repeated? Two. He told the story of Jesus’ ascension at the end of his Gospel and again at the beginning of Acts. He told of Paul’s conversion on the road to Damascus in chapter 9 of Acts and then twice again near the end.

And then there’s this story of Peter’s vision and his visit and stay with a Roman centurion. In chapter 10, Luke narrates the story as it happens. What we heard today, chapter 11, is Peter’s retelling.

So three key events were so important to Luke’s understanding of the Gospel he felt a need to reiterate them. And given the obvious importance of the first two, we need to pay attention to this story – one less known or celebrated – and why it’s so important.

Each of these three stories change the future of the newly emerging Church.

Jesus’ ascension reveals the mission of the church. In ascending, Jesus hands on his ministry of love and reconciliation to all who trust in him and follow. At the Ascension we learn God’s plan was always to have all of Christ’s followers become Christ for the healing of the world.

With Paul’s conversion, Jesus changes an enemy into an advocate. This conversion is a lived-out, visible example of the core commandment to love we heard today. Through love Jesus creates a servant of Christ for the ages, transformed from a zealous arrester of believers, an enemy of Christ, into the most influential evangelist and preacher ever to serve Christ.

Peter’s transformation foreshadows what Paul will boldly proclaim. Because in this story, the believers are told in no uncertain terms that God’s love and grace in Christ are for all people. What began as a Jewish movement is now offered to all God’s children. This was a massive shift, and transformed the church.

Pay attention, then, to understand what happened.

At this point, every Christian was Jewish. The Messiah was a Jewish promise, found in the Hebrew Scriptures. Jesus was a Jewish rabbi, attracted fellow Jewish people throughout Galilee and Judea. Luke says that after Pentecost the believers in Jerusalem still worshipped at the Temple. None of these believers imagined a Christian life that wasn’t embedded in their own Jewish faith practices, or a community in Christ shared with non-Jews.

And now Peter, one of their most important leaders, claims not only did he proclaim the Good News to Romans and stay in their home and have them baptized, but the Holy Spirit gave him a vision that all God has created are clean and welcome and loved, and the same Spirit poured out on those Romans, with the same results as what happened to the Jewish believers at Pentecost.

And Peter paid attention. He wisely thought, and said, “If the Spirit of God has already come to them, who am I to hinder God?” The Spirit made Peter’s baptism decision for him.

This shift wasn’t stable at first.

Instead of rejoicing that the Spirit had come to Gentiles and Peter had baptized them, the other members of the Jerusalem Christian community demanded answers. How could Peter allow this? What was he thinking? They wanted people to be filled with the Spirit and follow. Yet all they heard in Peter’s story is “it wasn’t the right kind of people who got the Spirit.”

Paul’s demands years later that the Jerusalem leadership approve the mission to the Gentiles made it officially acceptable to this community. It took time. Peter himself wavered a little and took steps back from this, which Paul angrily charges against him in the Galatian letter.

The new Church had to learn that God’s expansive love they so cherished was so expansive it would cross boundaries they thought were uncrossable.

Our challenge emerges already on Maundy Thursday, we heard again today.

Jesus commands the women and men in the Upper Room to love one another as he loves them, we heard today. This will be the only sign of whether they are his disciples, if they have love for one another.

But is “love one another” focused only on insiders? “Love the people in your faith community as I have loved you”? Maybe. But this is the Jesus who commanded love of enemies and prayer for those who persecute. Who forgave all involved with his crucifixion while he was being nailed to the cross. Who draws all people and all things into God’s life through his cross. Jesus never meant “love one another” as purely insider love.

As Peter learned in his vision and visit with Cornelius and his household. As the Church gradually learned in its conflict with Paul. We’re always needing to catch up to where the Triune God is moving and loving and bringing life. So it’s a lesson we need to learn, too.

So pay attention to God’s Spirit, like Peter.

Keep your eyes open to where God is leading you and the Spirit is moving. And learn to answer like Peter, “who am I to hinder God?”

Jesus claimed God’s Spirit lives in you, in me, in all people, not just those called as prophets, or rulers, or priests. He said that when you look at the face of any other person, you see the face of God. In the faces of those who are hungry, thirsty, naked, sick, imprisoned, or strangers. In the face of your neighbor. Or the one who hurt you. Or in your enemy.

So, pay attention and you’ll see God’s Spirit at work in them, and in all people. If you don’t divide the world between those God can love and those God can’t, but rather say “God is in everyone,” you’ll see the need for your love to be as expansive as God’s. Otherwise, as Peter realized, you’ll be hindering God.

This won’t be easy. It wasn’t for Peter and the others.

We know God’s love is so expansive it crosses borders we consider uncrossable. And that that means life for us and for all. But we make those borders so solid. It’s hard to imagine them breaking open.

But they did back then, and God’s love spread across the whole world. So if you and I can start loving enemies and hateful people, praying for them, hoping for God’s grace for them, can we not expect the same transformation today? Where enemies become advocates, like Paul? Where divisions are healed and oppression is broken down and all God’s children find life and healing in God’s love and in each other?

Maybe we’re still stuck in the first verses of today’s reading, demanding someone account for how this is a good thing. But if we’re wise, we’ll pay attention to what God is saying and doing, and maybe we’ll find the same joy Peter and Cornelius found. And even see God changing this world in our day.

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

Listen to the Shepherd’s voice and follow to life and joy.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Fourth Sunday of Easter, year C
Text: John 10:22-30; Acts 9:36-43

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

Why did the Christians at Joppa send for Peter?

At this point in Acts, Peter was becoming known for being able to heal. But Tabitha was dead.

When Peter came, Luke doesn’t say they asked for anything. Peter went upstairs to pray for her, met many of her friends who were mourning. They showed Peter all the clothes she had made for them, talked about what a wonderful person she was. Nothing was said about raising her.

Now, Luke says that this resurrection became known throughout that city, and “many believed in the Lord” because of it. But if you’re only trusting in Jesus as the Messiah because of Tabitha’s resurrection, that could be a problem.

The Judeans also have a problem of knowing how to trust Jesus.

How long will you keep us in suspense? they ask. Tell us plainly, are you the Messiah?

At this point in John’s Gospel, Jesus has healed, fed thousands, taught many, and become known in the north, in Galilee. But now he’s in Jerusalem, at the Temple. And the Judeans want their own answers. As we heard in Adult Forum last week, there likely was some urban snobbery among the Judeans about rubes from up north in Galilee. So they wanted to know for themselves.

But one chapter earlier, in Jerusalem, Jesus healed a blind man and it caused a stir. A Pharisaic investigation was launched, people were questioned, the man himself was grilled, it was big. They certainly knew of this.

And so Jesus says that words aren’t going to help; he’s already told them who he is and they didn’t trust that. So, he says, look at what I’m doing. You’ve seen for yourself.

But it’s not enough. So, what do they need to trust Jesus? John says he wrote his Gospel so that you, too, could trust that Jesus is the Messiah, God’s Son, and, so trusting, have life in his name. So, their question is also your question: what do you need to trust?

No matter what Luke says, don’t expect Tabitha’s experience.

Sure, lots in the city came to faith because of what Peter did. But Jesus only raised three people from the dead. Later in Acts, Paul will raise someone. Peter never had raised anyone before, and never did again as far as we’re told. It was rare even then. And 2,000 years later, Tabitha is dead now; she’s not walking among us. And all her lovely friends met their deaths without an apostle handy to divert the funeral.

The problem with believing in Christ because of Tabitha’s story is that it’s likely never to happen to you or me. If God thinks such resurrections, or even eye-opening miracles, are what you need to trust Christ, why are they so rare? And if they’re not what God thinks you need, what is?

Jesus tells you today: I’ve shown you all you need.

If you want me as your Shepherd, listen to my voice. Follow me. Then you’ll know. Nothing prevents the people of Jerusalem from becoming Jesus’ sheep except their unwillingness to listen to his voice and follow. And nothing prevents you. You’ve seen what you need to see.

You’ve seen that God in Christ loves you beyond and through your sin and offers you unconditional forgiveness, a life cleansed from guilt and shame. So you don’t need to fear what you’ve been, only boldly be who you are in Christ.

You’ve seen at the cross and empty tomb that God’s love cannot be stopped by death. That not only will you have life in Christ after you die, but countless believers before you have told you that resurrection life is possible now, abundant, rich, fulfilled life following in the way of the cross, the way of Christ. So you have a path right before you, ready for you to walk without fear, to being a kinder, more loving, vulnerable, embodiment of God’s love, and a bringer of God’s healing to this world.

You’ve been fed here at Christ’s forgiveness table, guided here by God’s Word, blessed here by God’s people, and given strength and support.

And you’ve seen that the risen Christ has promised to be with you, so you can ask for your faith to be strengthened, for God’s Spirit to fill you, so you can trust in your Shepherd, even without all the evidence we always seem to want.

And that’s the true joy of Tabitha’s story.

Tabitha was a follower of Christ who changed her world with her love and generosity. She lived in a community that also loved in Christ’s name, made a difference, cared for their neighbors. They had life in Christ that helped them face their fears and live with boldness and courage.

They heard the voice of their Shepherd and followed. And rejoiced in the life of love they had, a life that was all they could think about when their sister died. Peter raising her was an unexpected extra. The joy there is the life of a community of faith that served others and made a difference in the world.

My sheep hear my voice and they follow me, Jesus said.

And nothing can snatch any of my sheep from my hand, nothing.

That’s all you need to know to trust in your Good Shepherd. The One who gives you abundant life here, even in a world of death and fear. Who fills you with the Spirit to transform you and your life into a loving grace and gift for the world. Who holds you always, no matter what, in this life and even through and past the death that awaits us all.

Follow that Voice you know so well, step by step, day by day. Listen, and let the Spirit change you. And in that following you will find joy. And so will everyone who knows you.

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

No matter what you think may disqualifies you from the risen life of Christ, God’s not done with you.

Vicar Natalie Wussler
The Third Sunday of Easter, year C
Text: Act 9:1-20; Psalm 30; Revelation 5:11-14; John 21:1-19

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

This Easter season, we’re reminded that resurrection isn’t just something  Jesus did 2000 years ago and it’s not something that only happens after we die, it’s something we’re called into, today. Resurrection is a daily invitation into a life marked by a love that heals, a justice that restores, a courage that takes risks for our neighbors, and a mercy that transforms us. This is the life that Christ has made possible for us through dying and rising. And yet, we doubt–we doubt if we’re ready or if we’re good enough. We doubt our worth and we doubt if God can really use us. And we worry that our doubts, our fears, and our past mistakes keep us from living out this risen life. And sometimes we’re filled with so much anxiety that we exclude ourselves before giving God’s love and ourselves a chance. And we’re in good company.

Sometimes, we’re like Peter, ashamed and confused. We meet Peter today after he’s denied Jesus but knows he’s risen, and has no clue what to do next. Peter is so caught up in shame that he covers his body when he sees Jesus, like Adam and Eve do in the garden when they meet God, because he feels so exposed and embarrassed by his mistakes. We’ve been there–scared to live as who God has called us to be, ashamed because we didn’t live up to our potential, embarrassed by our mistakes, and anxious about what it all means for our future. 

We’re like Saul, later Paul, who’s confronted by his past of dehumanizing and hurting people. If you’ve ever been woken up to the long error of your ways or pain that you’ve caused people,  you know Saul’s regret. You know his fear that the path he’s walked for so long has led to death and pain. You might know how shocking it is to realize you’ve been going the wrong way, and how scary it is to pick up the pieces and start walking toward a new life.

And we’re like Ananias, called to lay his hands on Saul and heal him, but terrified to do it. He knows Saul’s reputation, he knows Saul was coming to Damascus to kill people like him, and he believes even being in the same room as Saul could mean death for him and his community. He’s feeling the real anxiety that comes when we’re asked to love our enemies, and he resists God’s call. He doubts whether God could actually transform someone from breathing threats of murder to proclaiming the good news of the risen Christ. He’s counted Saul out. And we’ve also had moments of doubt. We’ve been scared about doing what we’re called to and worried that our acts of love are too risky. We’ve counted someone out because of who we believe they are, and we’ve failed to love our enemies.

But even with all their flaws, their messy pasts, their mistakes, and their fears, God still called on Peter, Saul, and Ananias. God still sent them on paths to be leaders of the early church, and to proclaim God’s love and to serve people everywhere. God was not done with them.

And here’s the good news: God’s not done with you–

For all the ways you feel ashamed and for all your past mistakes, God’s not done with you.

For all the things you regret, for all the ways you’ve taken the wrong steps, God’s not done with you

For all the ways you fear or resist taking the next step on this path toward risen life and all the ways you’ve doubted, God’s not done with you.

And God will never be done with you. When you bring God your shame, your fear, and your doubt, God will meet you exactly where you are, ready to offer grace and mercy where you need it, and remind you of the risen life that you’re called into, and nothing will ever change that.

And we’ll mess up. That’s a guarantee. We’ll still fear, we’ll still doubt, we’ll still make mistakes, we might even still hurt people. But our hope is that God is always resurrecting us. Resurrection means that nothing–not death, not failure, not your past regrets, or your fears for the future–has the final word. God’s grace and love do. It’s not about being perfect, it’s about trusting that God’s Holy Spirit is always transforming your heart and mind and sending you to be a part of love’s never-ending work in the world. It’s about trusting that God is still resurrecting us to new life–like Peter was transformed from embarrassed and ashamed to the rock of the early church, or how Saul went from being a persecutor of Christians to spreading Christ’s message throughout the ancient world, or how Ananias went from believing Saul would kill him to calling him brother and praying for him. And even now, this same resurrection lives in you–helping you grow, heal, and become who you’re called to be, one step at a time.  God is always guiding you by the Holy Spirit into new life.

God isn’t waiting for you to be good enough, or faithful enough, or to have the right answers. God is calling on you, now, exactly as you are to tend God’s flock, feed God’s sheep, and follow in Jesus footsteps, to lay hands of healing on the people who need it, to feed hungry people, to love the person who is struggling with their mental health, to come close to the person who’s mourning, to uplift our siblings on the margins. To trust that God will meet you in the moments that feel heavy and hard to bear and encourage you on your journey, whether it’s through a friend who speaks words of healing and hope to you, or through the warm embrace of a community that fills your cup, or through that peace that shows up when it makes no sense, or through that still, small voice that assures you that you’re loved beyond all reason. God is asking you to trust that God knows what God is doing by calling you specifically.

So, beloved, go out knowing that nothing can ever separate you from the God that loves you. Go out trusting that God has called you to be hands of healing, no matter what you’re ashamed of, or scared of, or have doubts about. Serve trusting that God will be with you, resurrecting you to new life everyday, calling you into love’s way, and preparing you for the moment you’re in, exactly as you are. God’s not done with you. God’s just getting started.

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